September: Something's Happening Here

Our massive building project, Part Two

Shortly after we had our trenches (for water and electric lines) backfilled to the depth needed for the underground electric wire, the electrician we'd hired to run a new electric line from the box on the front of our house--where service comes in, underground, from the utility pole out in the field--to my barn came.  In one afternoon he and his crew of two other people installed an electric panel (aka breaker box) in my barn, then ran the electric wire through conduit laid in the trench DH and I had dug.  DH watched carefully how the electrician pulled the wire through all that conduit (more than 100'), so that later, when his barn was built, we could DIY an underground electric line from the panel in my barn over to a panel he would install in his barn.  It involved string, a plastic grocery bag, and a shop vac.  (More on that in a future post about his barn/shop).

Then the electrician put a breaker into the panel in my barn, hooked in the new electric line, installed an outlet next to the panel, and voila!  I now had electricity in my barn.  That outlet was put to use later that week, when the builder we'd hired to do the setting of the poles, trusses and sheeting the roof of DH's barn/shop arrived and got to work.

A momentous occasion: 17 years after being built, my barn finally has electricity!

DH was super excited the day the builder arrived to mark the corners square and drill the holes for setting the posts.  Being as we were hiring out only some of the construction, and doing the rest ourselves, DH was the one who had dealt with the local lumber company and had ordered all the lumber, steel sheeting, etc from them.  They had made a large delivery the day before our builder was scheduled to begin.  This would be the quick part: having someone else get the frame up.  Once the bones of the building were done, it would be our turn to do the rest (except concrete) and we knew that would take quite a bit longer as we are a) older and b) have other daytime jobs we have to do.

Well, the first few holes went fairly well.  The ground was really hard and dry (and clay, ugh the clay), but the builder was able to drill them out with a very large auger attached to his skid steer.  The rest, though, needed to be well watered and soaked overnight because the clay was just too dang hard.

That happened to be an afternoon that I was babysitting Faline, and after making a run to the processor to pick up the batch of broilers I'd had processed that morning, I just brought her back to my house for the rest of the day.  After the builder left early -- once he'd watered all those holes there wasn't anything else he could work on--DH took Faline over to check them out.

With the ground softened up, the rest of the hole-drilling went quickly the next day, and the builders were able to pour the cement piers that the poles would sit on.  Or, at least, pour piers in all but three holes, as the lumber company had shorted us on bags of quik-crete.  We didn't know it at the time, but this would be the first of many, many issues with the building materials delivered (or not delivered!) by the lumber company.

DH and the builder discussed this, and decided to delay installing the poles on the east side of the building so that it would be easier to drive equipment in when setting the trusses for the roof.  So those were the three holes that didn't get piers poured, at least not until the next day when DH went to the lumber company as soon as they opened and brought back the missing bags of Quik-crete. 

Once the piers were ready, up went the poles.  It was really great to leave for work in the morning and have nothing to see but holes in the ground, and at the end of that day, be able to see the 'bones' of DH's shop. Three young guys (the building crew) in their mid-20s and early 30s were definitely much faster than DH and I could have been.  DH knew then, it was the right decision to hire this part done.  He'd agonized for months over paying labor to have someone else set poles before finally deciding to hire it done (which is why we didn't begin construction until September rather than April. . . )

And the day that trusses were set was another "boy am I glad we're not doing this ourselves" moment.  So much faster and easier to pay a builder. 

view from the inside, trusses set

Beginning to look like a barn!

That building crew had become like an extension of our family really quickly.  The 'boss' had gone to high school with DS1 and remembered him well.  He had also recently married the older sister (also a classmate of he and DS1) of DS2's BFF since kindergarten.  That particular family (the BFF and older sister) are long-time friends of DH & I, and are very well thought of; there is very high integrity in that household. 

 Another member of the crew had gone to high school with DD1 & DD2, graduating in between them.  I hadn't recognized him as a mid-20 year old, but I did remember his name from their school days, and he also came from a 'good' family.  

They were great guys, and we were glad we'd ended up with them as our builders.  We'd wanted someone small, and local, as DH's own father had been a builder who operated his own small construction business until his death in 1994.  It was kind of a hand of God thing that we ended up with this particular group, as they had been one of only two that DH had talked to who was willing to do parts of the job instead of insisting on doing everything from site prep to final finishing.

 

At the end of their work day on Friday, each of the two weeks they were here, DH would take a few beers out and offer them each a drink.  They'd all have just one,  but only if they were absolutely done working, and we'd talk about my chickens (both the local guys also have chickens), deer hunting (bow  season was coming up soon), gardening, and just general life outside of a small town tiny village.  It was kind of bittersweet the day they finished up putting on the roof, soffits and fascia and DH wrote the check for their involvement in our project.

The hired out portion of the build, finished.

It was about that time that we stopped referring to our new building as DH's barn.  For years we'd had The Barn, which was intended as my horse barn.  In the few weeks that it had taken to erect DH's barn, it got too complicated saying Kris's barn or DH's barn to differentiate which building we were talking about.  DH decided that his barn would no longer be referred to as a barn even though it is a pole barn.  From then on, it became DH's shop.  As in wood shop, machine shop, repair shop, deer processing shop, beer brewing shop. . . all the activities that would take place inside those four walls.

My barn, and DH's shop

Thank You to Those Who Saved My Husband

 I've been thinking lately, as I shift through pieces of conversation in my mind, and recall the random comments DH made through the years, that there's a definite reason my husband stands out compared to his siblings (and even many of his cousins on both sides of the family).  The reason is all the people, in his growing-up years, who through their words and actions, saved him.  Saved him from a settle-for life, saved him from the poverty thinking of his youth, saved him from not knowing--let alone realizing--what his potential was.

There was, of course, the grandma who loved him dearly.  Dare I even say he may have been her favorite grandchild of the dozen and a half or so she had?  This is the woman who was there for him, and who encouraged him to continue his education and even gave him funds to do so (in the form of a personal loan, smart woman, that not only gave him needed money for books and tuition and housing that his grants and federal student loan didn't cover, but taught him that he had a responsibility to repay that debt rather than getting a hand out).  She even loaned him money to buy an engagement ring for me when he told her he was thinking of proposing.  Not a lot, nothing extravagant, but enough to get the job done (she thought I was good for him).

There was also the neighbor family, one of whose sons DH was good friends with.  They took him to church with them, they took him on vacations with them, they included him in family events and gave him an example of a home where the parents loved each other and worked together to raise their children. They didn't have an extravagant lifestyle, but rather showed him how to make the most of enough rather than pining for more.

There was the high school teacher who introduced him to the subject of engineering, because DH loved math and had an aptitude for it.  He encouraged DH to look further into what engineering was, and all the types of engineering there is, and by this opened the world to him.  DH went on to study engineering, loves engineering, and has made a successful career of engineering.  Without that teacher to point him that way though, he very likely would have ended up laboring in construction or a factory or shop job like a majority of the men in his family.  Not that those are bad things, but engineering has offered him so much more.  He does construction for fun, rather than because he has to in order to pay the bills. (He also works all year, rather than half the year and then drawing unemployment the other half in an endless cycle of have and have not that is prevalent in more than a few of his extended family).  His engineering career has also afforded him lots of travel opportunities as well as the access to ever newer technology!  He loves to see new places and he sure does get excited about new technology.

There have been others, along the way, who have made positive impacts on him in other ways.  Like the men who raised their children at the time we were raising ours, men who were involved with their kids and through their actions (and invitations for DH and our kids to join them in activities with their kids) showed DH (who really hadn't had an involved father) what to do as a dad.  

And also the work peers who befriended him and guided him and even at times saved him in his career -- like the one who came into a leadership role in another department and years later saved DH from being a victim of headcount reduction in 2008 by insisting that DH transfer to his department, that DH was sorely needed there, and getting the transfer approved mere days before the axe would have fallen. It wasn't a position DH really wanted, nor was it in a convenient location to commute to, but it did save him from imminent job loss and it lead to the position DH then held for 14 years and the promotion he finally got in 2022.

The older we get, and the more years (and generations) I observe in his family, and the comments he himself makes about how he differs from them (in a good way), the more he and I both appreciate the efforts of the people who saved him.  The little (and sometimes big) nudges they gave and examples they set for him.  The way they, without him knowing at the time, molded him into the person he is.

Camaro's Progress

In February, Camaro was diagnosed with a knee injury on the left front.  Not a major one, but one that was going to get worse if not addressed.  So, I addressed it. I had my vet write a detailed plan, including shoeing changes, and I followed it unwaveringly.

We had almost exactly one month out of the saddle, first only walking in hand, then progressing to long-lining.

Now, several years ago, when Camaro had a bout of laminitis, I had tried long-lining him as part of that rehab.  It didn't go well.  The surcingle didn't fit him well and tended to slide around.  Add to that his distrust of having his mouth touched (we were still working through contact issues he'd come with when I'd bought him about eight months before).  He just wanted to curl up and get tense and it was looking like a disaster waiting to happen, so I switched gears and we hadn't tried long-lining in the nearly three years since.

This time around, he not only accepts contact on the bit, he actually feels confident with it.  But, just to make sure we were on better ground than in 2020 when I'd last tried long-lining, I hand walked him with a bridle on, and reins in hand at his withers, the last two hand walking sessions before we were due to transition to the long-lines.

The first time I put him back into the long-lines (btw, his back is more muscled now than in 2020 and the surcingle fit him just fine over a western pad), he was a little confused at first, but in less than 15 minutes was marching around the arena where I wanted him to go.  No balking, no spinning, no curling his nose to his chest.  HOORAY!

In fact, by the time we got to our 5th long-lining session of the 7 that were prescribed, he actually seemed to enjoy this 'new' way of working.  He could 'feel' my hands on his mouth, and it was close enough to the feeling of contact under saddle that he didn't fuss or worry about the fact that I was neither on his back, nor standing at his head.

crappy picture, but juggling a whip, two lines and a cell phone

 at the same time while walking isn't easy

 

Last week we had hit the point in the vet's orders where it was time to saddle up and get on his back, at a walk only.  I think he was as glad to have me mount up as I was!  Although he definitely thought walking for 20-30 minutes was boring, and tried several times to break into a trot.  When that didn't work, he started hunting for bogeymen in his least favorite part of the arena--the door end.  Oh how I wished I could do circles with him, or at least lateral work, to keep his brain busy and lessen his thinking up things to booger at.  Instead, I tried to change direction fairly often, doing no more than two laps in a direction before changing it either through a big shallow loop (not to stress that knee) or by riding across the diagonal and changing rein.

This week, it was time for a recheck with the vet.  She was quite happy to see his progress.  There's still some rebuilding of ligaments in his left front leg to do, mainly in the form of having them work correctly and stretch back (or shrink back) to their proper place and function.  Hard to describe, but having gone through PT on my own knee in 2021, her description makes perfect sense to me.  Basically, he'd been a little off long enough that there was some restructuring of the supporting ligaments and then muscles because of him carrying himself not quite normally.  And over time, that restructuring became a problem.  So, we have to undo it, gradually, and rebuild strength in the proper alignment.  

So, for the next month, we are going to start with more walk sessions, but add back in some bending lines a large circle or two and a few consecutive strides of lateral work. (Not just for his leg, but to keep his brain busy too).  And then, towards the end of that set of workouts I'll have him step over a ground pole a few times each ride, so he had to give more lift.

 After that, the next step will be 5-7 rides doing some short trot bursts, totaling not more than 5-8 minutes out of each 30 minute ride.  Once that round of work has been completed, if all is looking well, we can add back in canter, one long wall at a time.

In the small picture, it's kind of tough watching several months of winter go by in a set-back to the training program I'd wanted to focus on.  In the large picture, though, it's good that we caught this, and the slower, more focused work will be beneficial in the long run.  We can work on basics.  We can rebuild Camaro's leg structure (including his feet, there will be a few more tweaks in the shoeing department) to be stronger.  And, even with all this, the vet thinks he can definitely withstand First level work and probably even go on to school at Second.  Especially if we keep him on a monthly dose of Legend, which seems to be helping not just with the knee, but also with his sore hocks.

Which is great, because in January, when this weird trot lameness first became apparent, I was beginning to wonder if Camaro's body was telling me that First level was too much for him.

Yarn Thief, the Mighty Sheet Hunter

 There's a game the Yarn Thief and I play each week when I change the sheets on my bed. For some reason, she loves it when I take the old sheets off and put the new sheets on.  She watches, with huge eyes and a swishing tail, as I strip the bed.

Then, as soon as I grab the clean fitted sheet and start to unfold it, she leaps onto the bed and starts grabbing at the corners. Often times, I manage to get the sheet unfolded and spread out onto the bed, then tuck in the corners without encountering a claw.  Other times, there's blood shed.

Typically, the Yarn Thief ends up between the fitted sheet and the mattress.  She'll sit there, an unmoving lump, until she hears me step away to get the top sheet. Before I can start unfolding the top sheet, she shimmies herself, under the fitted sheet, to one edge of the bed and pops out onto the floor. Where she readies to spring into action for battle with the top sheet as I try to smooth it out onto the bed.

After that, it's a race to see if I can get the top sheet centered, smoothed, and tucked in without her claws finding my fingertips.   Some times I win.  Other times, I try not to bleed on the clean sheets.

Repeat with the blanket, but not the quilt, as that one is heavier and doesn't lend itself to being shifted into crookedness by her paws.  She does, however, like to be made into the bed and will sit under the quilt until she hears me walking out of the room.  At which point she will crawl out from under the quilt and settle herself on top of it for a nap.

Until next week, when the game starts again.

Syrup Season Begins (with mud)

 In late February, I tapped six trees back in the woods.  We had about a day and a half of good sap running weather, and then it changed to the type of weather where the sap just doesn't really run: rain, wind, temperatures below freezing.  We had rain and strong winds.  We had ice.  We had cold.  We had a bunch of snow.

So I didn't bother going out to check my sap buckets for over a week.  Then we had two decent days in a row with more favorable weather to come and I knew I needed to get to the woods and see how things were going.  However, we'd gotten a whole bunch of snow in the night, so I had to wait for DH to clear the driveway (he needed both the tractor and the 4-wheeler for this) before I could use one of them to potentially transport 5 gallon buckets of sap back to the house.

It ended up being after lunch when we went to the woods.  DH thought it was too muddy to take the tractor (because, you know, got to keep it in 2WD to avoid that front wheel popping off), and I don't particularly like driving through the woods --narrow and twisty--with the wood hauler trailer attached to the 4-wheeler. We'd need that trailer to carry the full sap buckets, so DH did the driving, and I did the riding behind him.

All went well on the first trip to the woods.  I'd underestimated how much sap would be waiting, and had only brought back two empty buckets to swap out, so we had to make a second trip after grabbing more buckets.  The second trip started out okay, although I thought the 4-wheeler exhaust smelled a tad funny.  But in the middle of the field --DH was driving through the field rather than taking the long way around the edges--the 4-wheeler stalled.  And sank a bit in the quickly softening ground under the snow from the night before; the sun had come out full force and was melting things rather rapidly.

The 4-wheeler started again, but stalled without doing more than spinning it's tires in the mud.  And then it wouldn't restart.  Umm, what?  That's not good.  We'd taken the 4-wheeler and trailer in order to avoid potential problems the tractor would have in the 4 inches of snow on top of mud.  Now we'd have to take the tractor into the field in order to tow the dead 4-wheeler out.  

DH walked back to his shop and brought out the tractor.  We hooked it to the 4-wheeler, and DH started to pull.  The tractor tires spun in the mud. So DH put it in 4WD and tried again.  And the right front tire fell off.  You can probably imagine the tremendous mood that put DH in; he was already not too happy about the 4-wheeler's sudden death.

I volunteered to walk back to the shop this time, and retrieved the tools we needed for reattaching that wheel.

It's a bit of a walk from the shop to the point in the field the tractor and 4-wheeler were.

zoomed in from same spot as previous picture

Oh happy happy joy joy.  I gave DH the tools, and he quickly put the tractor wheel back on.  We tried again, this time moving the 4-wheeler a bit.  But then, DH went to turn to avoid an even wetter area in the field, and that darn wheel came off again.  He was so not overjoyed.  I went to help him with the tire, and one of my boots got sucked off in the mud.  Now I'm trying to not step in the snow or the mud with my stocking foot, not fall over, not lose my other boot, and pull my sucked off boot out of the mud so I could put it back on.  If you ever lost a boot in the mud as a kid, you can totally relate.

I did manage to free my boot and put it back on without getting a wet or muddy sock. We managed to get the wheel back on, and actually get the 4-wheeler towed (me sitting on it steering) back to the shop without getting the tractor stuck or having the wheel pop off a third time.

almost there

Once the tractor and 4-wheeler (with trailer still attached) were safely stowed back in the shop, I walked out to the woods with the empty extra buckets.  I felt a tad bit guilty about how that last hour and a half had gone in the mud with the machinery; if I'd brought more than two empty buckets the first time a return trip wouldn't have been necessary.  In the woods, I filled a third bucket with sap from the remaining two unchecked taps, and began trudging through the snowy field back to the house.  

Part of the way there, DH came out to meet me (at which point I had set down the 40-pound bucket of sap and was trying to catch my breath).  He took the bucket and carried it the rest of the way.

I stood in the field for another minute or two, until my heart didn't feel like it was jumping out of my chest anymore, and I could breathe fairly normally.  Man, being 51 sure is different than being 41 was.  Not that fond of this whole getting old thing.

Before setting off through the rest of the field, I looked around at all the lovely snow that hadn't been walked or driven through yet.  And, despite my age, I threw myself down into it.  I might be old, but I could still enjoy a good snow angel!

After all that hassle of bringing in the sap, the processing of it into syrup was easy and uneventful.  It took over 12 hours of boiling to reach the finished product, but what a beautiful batch of syrup it made.

What's the matter with the 4-wheeler?  We're still not sure.  Discussing it over dinner that night, we think it's something to do with either the fuel pump or the relay to the pump.  DH checked all the fuses and tested the relay with his volt meter the next day while I was finishing off the boiling of the sap, and all seemed normal there.  So most likely the fuel pump failed.  And of course the fuel pump is in a very hard to reach location up under the 4-wheeler.  Which means having to remove lots of other components in order to take off and replace the fuel pump.  Which means I won't be hauling sap with the 4-wheeler for a while.  

Hope this mud dries up fast . . 

A New Quilt Top, and Other Stitching

 In February, I dug out a whole bunch of quilt blocks (29!) from a scrappy 10" block swap I'd participated in back in summer of 2013.  Yes, nearly ten years had gone by since those blocks were made, and they had not yet been sewn into a quilt top.  I was determined that now was the time.  

I laid them all out to see them (because I had long forgotten what they looked like) and to play with an arrangement.  What I hit upon was that I would like to make something twin bed sized--hoping to get at least one set of bunkbeds this year for the grandkids to sleep in when spending the night, I would need quilts to fit twin-sized beds.  After thinking on it for a day or two, I decided what I wanted was 7 rows of 5 blocks each, with skinny 1" off white sashing in between blocks and rows.  Which meant that I would need a total of 35 blocks, six more than I had from that 2013 swap.

preliminary layout, with "help" from the Yarn Thief

Luckily, in the past almost ten years, I've accumulated a lot of fabric scraps from sewing so many baby quilts, LOL.  Plus other things like pillowcases, aprons, oven mitts, toddler sized sundresses, etc.  It wasn't hard to pull enough complimentary and/or coordinating fabrics to whip up six more blocks.  And it was fun to choose which block patterns I wanted to use, all from my two boxes of Quilt Builder's Card Deck which gives cutting instructions for multiple sizes of each block pattern.  No painful brain math required, I just picked a pattern I liked, looked at the back of the card to see what sizes and shapes I needed to cut for a 10" block, and then cut fabric and sew!  I'm really happy I splurged on those card decks last year.

After making those six new blocks, I again played with layout for which blocks went in which rows, then cut sashing strips and started sewing everything together.

By the time the ice storm came on Feb 22, taking out our electricity for nearly 5 days straight, The blocks and rows were all done, and the top just needed borders.  I had decided I wanted to do a scrappy border, and dug through every fabric bin I have, pulling out anything small enough to not be of much use except as small pieces, such as the 2" x 4" strips I had in mind to create the borders with.   The vast majority of which needed ironing before being cut, so when the electricity went out, my quilt project got put on hold.

I instead, during the daylight hours that I had 'free' time in, stitched on the fox counted cross stitch I'd begun in January.  It was almost completed by the third week in February, and all that was left was to do the back stitching.  Some people don't like backstitching on their cross-stitch pieces and frequently leave it off, saying it's good enough without (my Mom, for instance).  But to me, the backstitching is what makes the design pop, and therefore is a necessity.

Approx. half of the backstitching completed

before backstitching, the mouse looked like a dirty snowball blob;

after backstitching, it's a cute little critter peeking out of the scarf

When the power was restored (116 hours after going out-- 4 days and 20 hours), and I'd gotten caught up on laundry, etc, I got to sit down at the sewing machine and put together the quilt border.  I'm really loving the top with the borders on.  

That's as far as I'm going with this quilt for now.  I'm undecided as to what fabric to back it with.  I'll have to look through my stash and see if I have a big enough piece.  If not, then I have to decide if I want to do a pieced back using two or more fabrics, or if I really want it all to be the same (and then go fabric shopping. . . )

Meanwhile, last week I ran across a tutorial for a cute Spring table topper.  It was calling my name, so after getting the scrappy quilt top completed, I went stash diving for fabrics to use to make the table topper.  Even though pink isn't a color I use often, I do have some pink fabrics, including a couple cute fat quarters.  Those told me they wanted to be a table topper, so on Monday night I cut pieces and on Tuesday after work I sewed the topper together.  I have yet to sandwich and quilt it, but feel pretty sure it will be finished and adorning my dining room table by Saturday night.

Slinging It Like Spinning the Wheel of Fortune

That's what I think every time I give my lazy Susan a spin.  I think of a Wheel of Fortune contestant grabbing a hold of that wheel and giving it a good heave-ho.

Not that I set it spinning hard enough to go around and around and around past the starting point several times.  My aim is to advance (quickly) to the exact spot of the item I wish to withdraw from that cabinet right then.  Despite how the pictures might look, it is pretty well organized and I know, in my head, the location of everything in there.  So, when I open the door and want the jar of paprika, for instance, I know exactly how much elbow grease I need to advance the rotating shelf right to the jar of paprika.  Or garlic powder.  Or liquid smoke.  Or baking soda. Or turmeric.  Or vanilla extract. Or. . . Or. . . Or. . .

 

My lazy Susan gets a ton of use.  It holds a ton of stuff, but all of it is used on a regular basis.  Depending on how quickly I go through a particular spice, it is in a small, not-so-small, or large container in the lazy Susan.  And all spice containers are grouped by size and sorted alphabetically in each size.  There's also several different flavors of vinegar, three or four different salts, and a couple types of cooking oil.  Plus food colorings, extracts, cookie decorating do-dads (jimmies, some people call them), etc.  Not to mention a couple types of dried peppers from the garden; some all ready ground and some still whole, each type in it's own baggie or jar.

What's in your lazy Susan?  Do you have one? Do you use it?   

Growing up, the lazy Susan in my Mom's kitchen was a sort of weird junk drawer,  It held nothing edible, just all kinds of miscellaneous things that seemed to have no use or other place to call home.  

My mother-in-law's lazy Susan is a graveyard for decades old spices and seasonings, as she doesn't like to cook and rarely cooks anything from scratch--or even seasons it on the rare occasion she does whip up something.  I think the contents of her lazy Susan are relics from when her eldest daughter was a teenager living at home and had to make meals for her siblings.

My kids, on the other hand, having grown up with a well stocked and anal retentively set up lazy Susan, all have quite diversely equipped, and well used (even if they're not as organized), lazy Susans in their homes.

March Knitting Update

 With the power being out recently, I actually got a lot of knitting done.  It's one activity that didn't require much electrical input at all; just a bit of light to see by.  The socks I'm knitting for my Mom are coming right along.  As you can see by the picture (taken Saturday), sock #1 is done, and sock #2 had a couple of repeats on the foot completed. 

I don't have an updated picture (more phone problems, being as it's over 4 years old and the battery also seems to have a bad cell in it, I'm thinking it might be time to upgrade before DH and I go on vacation later this month), but as of last night I finished the toe decreases and only need to do the grafting before the sock is finished.

The book in the picture, I didn't actually read much of.  I started it about mid-week, but just really couldn't get into it.  On Sunday afternoon I gave myself permission to set it aside and try a different book.  I am currently reading Ann Hazelwood's The Forgiving Quilt. and am enjoying it more than I thought I would.

Books that I did read all the way through in the past month were:

• A Mother's Rule of Life by Holly Pierlot, which I talked a bit about in February's knitting update.
• The Woman in the Camphor Trunk by Jennifer Kincheloe.  Another Anna Blanc mystery series, I sure hope the author writes more!  This book was funny, kept me guessing, hard to put down, and just a fun read in general.