Tag Archives: tear down

So…. this is happening.

 

You may remember me posting pictures of our little red barn/shed.

We use it as a shed, but it was originally a small barn complete with horse. The horse is long gone…. and 40 odd years later?

The barn/shed is almost gone as well.

 

IMG_4775

 

Falling apart?

You could say that…

 

IMG_4785

 

Rotted wood?

 

 

The mere fact that it’s still standing never ceases to amaze me.

 

IMG_4774

 

It’s horrible. An eye sore on our otherwise lovely property. The bane of my existence for a long, long time.

It’s state of disrepair is the main reason we spent $50,000 and 7 years of nights and weekends building a new and much larger barn.

 

IMG_0158 (Edited)

 

The plan? All the mowers and weed whackers, the snow blower, the tractor and assorted yard tools that were in the shed/barn were supposed to go into the new barn…. and the eyesore would be torn down.

 

 

But that never happened, and now the husband….. who has already filled the new barn with CRAP wants to rebuild the shed/barn to continue housing the mowers, tractor etc.

So this is happening.

 

IMG_5836

 

Husband deemed part of the interior framing sound, and started what I thought was deconstruction of the back half…. which needs to be completely rebuilt..

Now my idea of deconstruction consists of ripping off the roof, then the walls. The husband’s?

I’m not quite sure.

 

IMG_5838

 

He put up a new piece of wood…

 

IMG_5839

 

Ostensibly to brace the roof… though why you need to brace something you’re tearing down is beyond me.

 

IMG_5840

 

But look at the piece he’s bracing! Rotted doesn’t begin to describe it…

Then…

 

 

Yeah. He trimmed it…

The rotted piece of wood.

 

IMG_5842

 

He sawed off a section of wall… by hand, even though the chainsaw was right there.

 

IMG_5845

 

And made a bigger hole.

 

IMG_5871

 

He elongated the brace….

 

IMG_5872

 

And added wood running along the bottom.

 

 

He was supposed to be tearing it down…. so WTH?

Naturally I had to ask.

And naturally, he wouldn’t answer.

It was hot, he was cranky and I dared to question his technique.

Silly me.