Work Wednesday—Posting Accomplished!


Yay! Woohoo! The posts are in the ground! All 125 of them. Or so . . .

We finished those up on Tuesday and concreted the six-inchers. Next step: screwing in about 350 boards. No idea, at this time, how long this is going to take, but I’ll guesstimate about three days. We’ll see if I’m right . . .

After that, we’ll lop off the extra at the tops of the posts, and put in the gates. Actually, we have to build one gate. Had a little trouble with Mabel.

Mabel being one of our tape measures.

Jane is the other one. Well, her full name is “Jane, You Slut.” We can’t ever find her . . . not going to tell you Mabel’s full name. We seldom need to use it.

Now, lest anyone think that setting posts in an easy thing—this means you, Dr. Ralko—I can assure you that it is not:

Let’s assume you already measured your pasture or yard or whatever and lined it out with string or twine, so you know where you’re going with this fence. First, you drill down with an auger—any variety; we have a two-man, but for this we’re using the one on the tractor. Thank God.

“They” say you should go down two feet. And “they” are correct. Unless you live in the Ozarks, in which case it requires using that tractor auger 2-3 times, slamming the hole with an iron rock-breaker stick—there may be a technical name for this, but I don’t know what it is—many, many, many times, using a hand post-hole digger and a shovel, and probably adding water at some point.

This can take as little as five minutes—in which case there is much joy and celebration—or as long as 30 minutes with calls of, “Looks good enough to me!”

Sometimes, there is a pause when one considers if one can obtain dynamite or C4 on Amazon Prime . . .

One cannot. One cries a little.

Next, assuming the hole is dug, you have to pick up a 40-pound, 8-foot post and lower it into the hole. You make sure it’s level and shove back most of the dirt you just removed from said hole. You tamp it down and add more dirt and make sure it’s all tight.

Then you measure to the next post. We use an 8-foot 2×4, because our distance between posts is, well, eight feet. Rinse and repeat, 125 times. Or so.

This is a full week: while the aforementioned concrete cures, we’ll be tilling the manure into the garden—got some from the neighbor last week—and (gulp) putting up the greenhouse. An all-day project if there ever was one.

And I might be too optimistic about that . . .

So you may or may not get pics of that greenhouse next week.

 

 

Advertisements

Work Wednesday—Farming and Fencing


Bringing you up to speed, we’re back it on the outdoor projects: farming and fencing. We  installed  the new wood furnace last week, and while we tested for draw, we haven’t actually used it yet:

img_76331

img_76341

We picked up an old Ford field tiller at an auction, and that’s certainly making the groundbreaking easier in the garden extension. It took a day to pull down the fence, work up the ground in the current garden, and put the fence back up to keep the deer out of the orchard. Come spring, we’ll add on to the fence.

img_76251

Also borrowed a rock rake. Have to take care of this year’s crop, after all!

img_76291

The pasture fence posts are here! And some are in the ground—the pasture will be about 300 feet by 100 feet, or just over three-quarters of an acre. If we ever manage to get additional land, we’ll revisit this, maybe add another pasture for cows.

img_76481

In the meantime, we’re putting in an open pole barn for shelter and hay storage, because it looks like we might have a visitor from the neighbors: Chestnut, a seven-year-old sorrel mare who needs to be saddle-broke. No, I’m not planning on riding a bronc. She’s broke to harness, and needs some refresher courses.

Of course, I’m also the one who tripped over a landscape timber and had very sore knees for a couple days, so we’ll see how this goes. I’ll keep you updated!

Also found another Midnight-lookalike horse, from the Amish, who’s harness-broke. Very, very tempting . . . I messaged but haven’t heard back. Maybe I’ll call . . .