Work Wednesday—Almost There


This past Weekend o’ Work is brought to you by New Toys . . .

We started off on Friday with the unloading of the fireplace. There were at least eight boxes inside a larger box, also filled with Styrofoam.

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While my husband worked on this, with my minimal assistance, I volunteered to change out the doorknobs and deadbolts on two doors. Well. It started off just fine, but quickly deteriorated. And by “deteriorated,” I mean that he had to do a little, um, readjustment.

Not much. Really.

But they look great now!

And then the truck arrived:

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I didn’t get too many pictures after that, because we pulled out and dumped about five Mule-loads of junk and trash while the guys were brush-hogging and tree-trimming—you know, how guys do it, with one on the tractor and one in the bucket. Sheesh.

Also, the two ceiling fans were installed. Again, no pictures of them. Yet.

We managed to get in two campfires and some short hikes . . .

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My husband elected to stay down there for a few extra days, so by the next installment here you should get the full effect of the sanding-skimming-painting episodes . . .

Then, it’s on to the kitchen destruction. Oy.

Oh, wait! There’s more!

We took a quick trip into town and saw:

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Yep. Standing on a flatbed truck, singing. No lie. And on the way home, there were two clowns behind us at the stoplight.

Yep. Rodeo clowns. In facepaint. What a strange day… 

 

 

Work Wednesday—We Did Nothing!


Nope, sorry, move along. Nothing to report this week—it was a holiday weekend after all, and so we took a break, finally.

However, my husband tried to work on the ceiling and he did do a little paint-scraping, thanks to my sloppiness. But we did have friends over for a barbeque on Sunday and he got in a little fishing while I practiced my paddling skills.

Not very well, I’m afraid. Ran into a few trees along on the shoreline. Nothing like taking a shower and finding tiny sticks in your hair, but not quite realizing, for a split second, that they’re ONLY sticks!

And, on Sunday evening, we went to the local rodeo:

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It. Was. Awesome.

But I’m tellin’ ya, rodeo sure has changed. Back in the day, no self-respecting cowgirl would have put glitter on her horse’s butt, and certainly no cowboy would be seen posting in his saddle while riding a horse with a partially braided tail. Or a fully braided tail.

Good grief.

In other news, I’m wondering if I’m too old to go back to barrel racing . . .