Except for the two triangular pieces on the ends, the storage shed is enclosed. |
67 degrees/fog/drizzle/breezy
Pentoga Road
A few days ago, we were in the fourth week of a dry spell. Rain finally began to fall last week; not much, but enough to ease the drought. I woke up at 3 this morning to rain pounding on the roof. It sounded as though a herd of people were just over our heads hitting the metal roof with hammers. The result? Two inches of needed precipitation. It didn't have to arrive all at once, but hey, we'll take it.
The garden, yard, and water table, should be in great shape going into fall. |
While waiting for Mark, I blanched four quart bags of green beans and put them in the freezer.
After, I stuffed eight quart jars with cucumber slices, boiled and mixed the brine, and made a batch of bread and butter pickles.
I was uploading material for the fall semester's class when Mark pulled into the drive. We were driving screws, cutting, and carrying wood within minutes.
First came finishing the installation of the roll-up door |
Then came the sides. (Yeah, I know, I couldn't believe it either... that the walls I'd built could have been anything other than square. A few sheets required "trimming." |
So we worked the afternoon away. Mark was the brains and much of the brawn. I was the go-fer boy and attempted to make his job as easy as possible. By afternoon's end, only the two triangular pieces on each end remained to be enclosed. I'll do those, plus start on the trim in the next day or two. There's rolled roofing yet to be added, a ramp, shelves to be built, and a coat of paint to slap on the structure. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and believe me, after a summer of frustration trying to build this thing, it's the sweetest light I've ever seen.
The owner of the internet company is supposed to come this morning and see if he can discover why we're once again having intermittent service. His "climber" doesn't work today, so I'm not at all sure why he's even coming. All the working electronics are either on the roof (that is slippery and wet) or forty feet up in a spruce tree. The guy says he doesn't climb and I'm no monkey, so I may just call him in a bit and tell him to wait until next week. We've lived with it this long, another day or two won't kill us.
Sargie's off today and since the Milligan Family Labor Day Gathering meets here a week from today, I'm fairly certain Sargie is going to have all kinds of honey-do chores for me and I can't say a thing. She painted the hallway and stairwell while I was hiking this past week and it looks beautiful. Sargie's done her part and now it's my turn.
I really need to clean and rearrange the barn in case it rains next Saturday. Cleaned, it would be a good place to put chairs and for people to gather. We're also going to fry some fish, meaning that I'll be out gathering meat for the table several times this coming week. Oh Lord, the stress and pressures I endure. If only you had my life.
But then, as every male will tell you, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
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