We went over to visit some friends the other night.
Sat outside and had a few cocktails Covid style.
And then out of the corner of his eye…. the husband spied something.
It was this mini chain saw his friend’s wife had bought to clear some small brush in their backyard.
And, because you know it had to happen….
He really can’t help himself.
Four days in and we were finally ready to start adding the balustrades.
This involved a large amount of math, which as we have previously discussed… is not our strong suit.
Measuring was required. So much measuring. The fractions, the division…
Oh! The horror.
I carefully calculated the spacing of 8 rails for each section. I checked and rechecked to make sure it was accurate.
Which meant 7 of them fit perfectly.
Am I good or what?
Okay, so there were seven instead of 8.
It still looked good and things were flowing smoothly.
Until the screw heads starting popping off.
Once they were in the railing.
Which made me cringe…. and the husband grab his all purpose fix it tool.
Have hammer, will travel.
Thankfully no harm was done and we finished 3 out of the 4 sections before calling it a day.
One more section here..
Then we’ll move on to the other side.
Hopefully the heat wave will be over by then.
Hot flashing menopausal Maine women with broken toes do not fare well in temperatures over 90.
But not before another trip to the store to buy wood.
(Yes, I know the husband is wearing his mask incorrectly but his glasses kept fogging up)
Two perfect pieces for the top of the railing had to be found. And even though we were searching through the more expensive smoothed cedar boards?
They were rife with holes, chops, cracks and warty blemishes.
After 45 minutes…
We moved on to the 2×4’s.
Is it any wonder our small weekend projects turn into 3 month long slog fests?
So this is our deck, and those are the railings that will be replaced.
Hopefully by the end of summer.
Of 2020.
First step…. remove the old railings.
The first few were easy as they had been screwed.
Then it got harder with massive doubled rusty nails that didn’t want to let go.
Did I mention we picked the middle of a heat wave with record breaking temperatures to start this project.
How hot was it….?
Okay, not quite. Though it felt that way.
That thermometer was sitting on the table in direct sunlight.
It was actually this hot, in the shade.
And for Maine?
That is insanely frickin’ hot.
But progress was made.
And halted when rotting beam sections had to be cut out.
With 1950’s era tools.
Yes, I’m afraid so.
And you know what happens when you use power tools from the middle of the last century?
Nothing good.
Baby barn work commences…. again.
And I have to ask – are we the only ones who take a year to remodel what is in essence a small shed?
On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.
So we’ve moved around to the back half to finish our utterly favorite part…..and by that I mean the hellish nightmare that is angled trim work. I believe we’ve established we suck at this and not wanting to break tradition, we still do.
How badly do we suck?
I’m glad you asked.
Badly enough to require shaving corners with less than modern tools if you’re my other half.
What….
You mean 1940’s saws aren’t still viable members of the tool arsenal?
Yes, that’s always my reaction as well….
But the husband says it still has life left in it.
Corners were turned…
Though not all of them where they should be…
As the poppa barn ( who’s still screaming for paint and agrees with River how wonderful he would look in a nice rusty red with white trim ) looked on in horror.
To be continued.
I went out to lunch in South Portland a month or so ago and drove by this:
Yes.
You read that correctly.
There’s a place where you can be socially active by throwing an axe.
Though I’m guessing not at each other…. because that would dramatically cut down on the social part.
Think I’m kidding?
There’s even a league.
Which leads me to wonder if there’s another league for suburban axe throwing.
If so, I know a few soccer moms who would excel.
Also unbeknownst to me, there are a slew of videos that can teach you the finer points of the sport.
So if you’re looking for a new hobby?
Remember…. you saw it here first.
Now that the Virginia vacation saga is finally over, it’s time to clear out the photo files.
If you remember… before we left for the Cape Cod vacation in November, the husband was desperately trying to finish the remodel on our baby barn from Hell before the snow started flying.
He started putting the siding on….
Which was a nightmare of non squared corners and uneven ground.
Yeah, there was a lot of that.
His answer? Plant a shrub in front of it.
He was still using his 1950’s power tools and probably wishing for a larger wheelbarrow.
Siding around the window resulted in some very colorful language.
As did turning the 3rd corner where things didn’t exactly line up.
Unfortunately that’s as far as he got before the weather turned….
And now I have to stare at this split personality horror show until spring.
In other news, our neighbor and her daughter fed our deer while we were gone.
She sent me this picture while we were in Williamsburg, and wanted me to know the child took her responsibility seriously.
And for that she was rewarded.
Flowers for mom and a thank you deer for her daughter.
That little guy cost me a fortune but he was hand made and too damned cute to resist. Look at those feet!
It snowed right after we got back.
But the white stuff sure does make a nice contrast for the sunrise.
We were happy to see our resident buck was still around.
He’s an impressive fellow….
And clearly his women agree.
He’s got quite a little harem going.
With 4 fawns that we know of.
Funny thing is….. as much as I love to travel, it’s sights like these that always make me glad to be home again.
The first settlement in America looked something like this.
And I have to admit the buildings were larger than I thought they’d be.
This was the church.
And I swear it’s bigger than the one in my town today.
I loved the thatched roofs on the cottages.
And we enjoyed poking around inside them.
Some of them were simple.
Some a little more grand.
Check out the armor on top of the cupboard.
Nothing like some weaponry over the dining room table to get the gastric juices flowing.
Speaking of that…. there was an armory.
And it doesn’t matter how many times I see these, I still can’t imagine having to wear them into battle. I mean damn, they make my underwire bra look positively comfortable in comparison.
Needless to say the husband was loving all the old tools and farm implements.
Yes dear….
Rusty metal…. I see it.
The last building we checked out was a communal kitchen.
And you know what I found… right?
Wandering at will….
Hoping something would fall off the table.
There were also fake cocktails, which is a rude tease to those of us who happened to be thirsty.
Hell, if these fell off the table they’d bounce.
And that’s not my type of cocktail at all.
Okay.
Now we’re talkin’….
I could bore you to tears with all we saw that day, but let this suffice..
A portrait of an evil cherub who looks like she’s ready to stab Fido with an already bloody knife.
But no.
It’s just a 17th century pacifier. “Your mouth is sore sweetie? Here… suck on this metal and coral pointy thing.”
No wonder she looks pissed off.
“Inveterate dysenterical fluxes”.
Doesn’t that sound like fun?
The museum was filled with artifacts unearthed from the original site.
And things thrown down the communal well.
Naturally, the husband was appalled at the waste of all those perfectly good rusty tools.
The takeaway from most of the history we read?
We might romanticize the idea of the first settlers… opportunity, adventure, a brave new world etc., but in reality? It was starvation, illness and death.
And Pocahantas…. of whom much is written and little is really known.
The only actual image drawn during her lifetime is this English portrait:
A much later Anglicized version of her true self.
Child trading. A fact of which I was heretofore unaware.
So there you have it, historic Jamestown.
Where a t shirt we saw in the gift shop said it all…..
Leaving Jamestown, we got back on the Colonial Parkway…..
And saw some deer.
Some swamps.
And a whole bunch of these strange mounds.
Too small and numerous for beaver.
Any southerners care to weigh in on what constructs them?
The Parkway slides along the James River….
And was a lovely, peaceful, traffic free drive.
Except for the black vultures.
Which are neither lovely nor peaceful….
And often cause their own traffic jams when they discover a fresh kill.
And no, I didn’t include a photo of the canine corpse.
Although I hated to end our day, the time was drawing near and my phone battery was gasping it’s last breath.
Naturally the husband had to see the blacksmith’s shop with all it’s rusty tools.
And we were both surprised to learn that women worked there as well back in the day.
So after test driving a wheel barrow…
A few more natural wreaths…
Some private homes…
More wreaths…
And a massive Live Oak that is supposed to have been here when George Washington walked these streets….
We said goodbye to the cows we saw on the way in….
And went back to the car where we had to charge my cell phone long enough for Trip Advisor to point us to our first dinner in Williamsburg.
I love that app.
And I loved this restaurant.
Come on…. they had blue jellyfish lights over the bar.
How could you not?
Cocktails? Check.
Their Orange Crush was made with fresh squeezed OJ and was fabulous.
Hushpuppies and cornbread let us know we were in the south.
And may I just say? I had no idea how much I missed hushpuppies until I started eating them again.
Yeeha!
Dinner was tough to choose.
Husband started with mussels.
And moved on to perfectly pan seared sea scallops with garlic smashed red potatoes and green beans.
Me?
Me?
I was in the south, baby! Bring me those low country shrimp and cheesy grits.
Lord have mercy….. they were the best thing I’ve eaten in months.
Husband had room for a New York Style berry cheesecake….
And then we called it a day.
Day 1.
You realize that, right?
It took me 8 posts to get through Day 1 of our two week vacation.
Oh, don’t be so dramatic.
It’ll be fun!
Let’s face it, there’s going to be a weekly baby barn update for the duration of the deconstruction/construction.
Which, at this point…. I figure will end sometime between Jesus, isn’t it done yet? and If I have to pry one more splinter out of my hand, I’ll shoot myself in the head and call it good.
Walls.
If you’re an immigrant during this administration? Not Good.
If you’re a rotting baby barn circa 1974? Very good.
Here’s a pic of the husband using his vintage (what feels like 50lb) saw.
You’ll notice he’s hunched over and applying pressure. That’s because the damn thing shimmies like a tilt a whirl on crack and might fly apart if you don’t.
Walls.
They’re a good thing. But sometimes…
You see where I’m going with this?
From the outside all looks well.
From the inside, things went a little squirrelly on the right.
Crooked?
Do we care?
We do not.
Do we wait for the wife to bring the dust pan during clean up?
So, another weekend done.
Another section framed and ready for siding.
Did I mention that the husband’s plan of starting at the halfway point on the front and working his way around makes it look a bit odd?
Rather like a schizophrenic.
Perhaps I shall name her Sybil….
River's world..... 