Sunday Challenge

Yesterday while I plugged away at the outhouse pit, Himself took off on the big mower to mow the “top”, the entryway, to our little hideaway. He finished that up then decided to mow some of the trails so after a late breakfast, off he rode. I was preoccupied with the “pit” and busy. When he left, he had taken the walkie-talkie and given me the mate and told me if he had any trouble, he’d let me know via the little two-way radio.

After an hour or so, here he was on the walkie-talkie. Will you come on the 4-wheeler and bring the battery and battery cables. Okay. But easier said then done. I dragged and carried the heavy marine battery to the front porch and backed the 4-wheeler up to the porch. I managed, out of shrill will, to get the battery up and loaded and I was off to the rescue!

The mower deck had become wedged between two dirt banks. It had died and now the mower wouldn’t start. Himself hooked the battery charger up but still the mower wouldn’t start so he got the tow line and hooked the mower to the 4-wheeler. I could tell he was torn. Should I (i.e. the woman) ride the mower (linked BACKWARDS to the 4-wheeler) or should I drive the 4-wheeler and tow him riding backwards? Finally, Himself told me to get on the 4-wheeler, instructed me what gear, etc, and told me he would steer the mower backwards as I pulled him back up the trail. I was a bit nervous, as I’ve not had much experience towing and was much more nervous after he didn’t like the way I was turning the 4-wheeler around on the narrow path. I almost got off and told him to do it himself. I did tell him, come turn this around but he instructed and I persisted and soon the mower was attached by towline to the 4-wheeler.

He was riding backwards and couldn’t see that because of the torque on the mower, caught between two dirt ledges, the 4-wheeler, even in low gear and 4-wheel drive, was being pulled sideways towards a tree. I was fighting it and doing my best. He yelled. I stopped. I tried again. He yelled. I stopped. I tried to explain what was happening. He didn’t care. He didn’t verbalize that but I could tell by “the look”. So I tried again and got the “mule” back on the trail and we got to moving. I was a little unsteady at first and must have gone faster than he wanted and he yelled, “go slow!” On the down hills, the mower would roll and catch up to me. On the up hills, the rope would tighten and I would tow him up the hill. After a bit, I decided I was going to enjoy this no matter what. I was learning and doing something I hadn’t before. I laughed out loud and soon I was pulling him more steadily, at the low speed Himself demanded. So up the trail – and down – and soon we had the mower and Himself back in the shade at the cabin.
Back at the cabin, we both laughed and congratulated each other on the successful mission and will await the next challenge.

Saturday Evening

After a delicious evening meal Saturday evening, we were sitting on the porch relaxing. Himself had had his shower back in the timber and I was looking forward to mine but one of the projects I had outlined for myself today was pulling the run-away dock out of the pond. I told Himself that I was going to put on the mud boots and see if I could get the dock to shore before I went and showered.

So I donned the boots. Himself said he’d better come along in case I needed help and I waded out into the pond. I pried the dock up with a pole but could hardly budge it as there was still one pole attached to the dock and embedded in the muddy bottom of the pond. After working at it several minutes, Himself offered to go get the 4-wheeler and maybe we could get a hook on it with the tow line. I was in deep enough now that water was running in the top of the boot and the boots were getting stuck in the suction of the soft mud bottom. I was floundering, my broken toe pulling against the quicksand. I had to reach down and literally pull the boot out of the mud with my hands. Then Himself came and threw me the line and I hooked the dock. After trial and error and ungainly action in the pond, we wrestled the dock to shore. We gotter done.

Afterwards, sitting on the porch, relaxing and talking about how to fasten the recovered dock to shore, we had a brainstorm. We’ll build a new dock 8' or 10’ square so fishermen can take their chair and tackle box down to fish or I can take 5 or 6 grandchildren down to look and sail leaf boats. Or Himself and I can just go down and kick back! We will build a new dock. After all, Himself is a professional dock builder. Practically.

Now, if we are going to build a new dock, why did we go to all that trouble to wrangle the old dock?

Weekend Adventures

We have had fun at III this weekend. We also had some tense moments and frustration but over all it was a great stay. I decided Saturday to get at that new pit for the outhouse. It was almost imperative that this chore get done! I had marked it out last visit, it was in the shade and although the temperature was going to get up to 90 degrees, there was a nice breeze and not much humidity. So I got at it. The ground was dry and the digging hard but as I chipped away at what felt like impacted granite dust, I kept thinking I would get down to something resembling soil – soil with some moisture in it. In Iowa if I dig down two feet (8” even) I will find moist soil. After working on and off all day and into the next, I was down about two feet and it was still dry as a bone. Each time the spade hit the ground, it hurt my wrists and my elbows protested. I’d work awhile, go rest, work awhile, go do something else. I couldn’t seem to get Himself interested in the project (now what made me think I could?). I tried telling him a few times how hard the ground was but he had other projects, other things to do and didn’t seem interested so I kept chipping away.

Finally, Saturday evening, we were sitting on the porch talking about our day and the subject of the pit came up. Guess I had reached my limit with it and I let Himself know that I wanted him to look the situation over and I wanted him to do it right now! So we walked down and reviewed the situation. Himself took the spade and nudged the bottom of the pit a bit and said, well, he was cleaned up now (he had showered) so he’d put some time in on it “tomorrow”. It would be cooler in the morning.

True to his word, Himself strolled down to the pit about 7:30 a.m. Sunday morning and tapped the spade four times on the hard bottom of the pit, exclaimed “Jesus Christ!” threw down the spade, and walked away. Oh Great! Now what? I thought. We need that pit finished and if Himself can’t dig it, how can I? But then Himself came back and offered some free advice: dynamite (I didn’t have any and believe me I had already considered that idea!) and water. Soak the bottom with water. I had already considered that too but I had thrown the idea out as water and Missouri soil means big, sticky gooey clumps of mud-like cement but, up against the wall, I took the pail to the pond and carried up a bucket of pond water and threw it into the pit.

Then I went away and weeded some in the garden, made some little wire mouse bait cages as we think something bigger than mice has been feasting on the D-Conn, did this and that and then went back to work on the pit. The water worked but, as I knew it would, it played havoc trying to get that mud/cement off the spade. Sometimes, I would just get down and throw the mud out w/my leather gloved hands. Himself came along and helped a few times and about mid day, we decided we were ready to make the move. We nailed together a 4X4 treated wood frame, leveled it and “walked” the outhouse over. Himself sunk some screws through outhouse and 4X4s and I stapled chicken wire around the bottom to keep out the creatures that have been chewing through the outhouse walls. We are good to "go" for a a bit!

At Last!

Tomatoes at III! But, will they still be there -- and eatable -- this weekend?

We will head to Missouri on Friday. We hope to get an early start and are anxious to be there. We think that MO has had rain so there will probably be mowing on the to do list.

Priority List

Himself and I lolled about on Sunday. I trimmed up a few trees and found a new spot to which to move the outhouse. We have decided a new outhouse has to be moved up the priority list. At least a new outhouse hole, must be a priority.

So, I will dig the hole, lay down 4X4’s for a base and we'll scootch the outhouse over a few feet, atop the 4X4s. We'll staple wire to the bottom of the outhouse and 4X4s to keep creatures from chewing their way in and fill the old hole with dirt. In a few years, we'll have lovely flowers or a shrub growing and blooming there!

This "move" will be a temporary measure to give me time to build a new outhouse behind the cabin where I have had a hole started for a year or better. One thing about it, there's always next year -- the Lord willing and the creek don't rise . . . the other side

Summer Day

90+ degrees and humid. It is Saturday and we are at III. Thank goodness for the shade of the porch and trees and the nice breeze. We will just spend part of a day but it has been several weeks since I have been here and it feels good.

Because of the heat, we don’t have any big projects planned and Himself took an extra day of vacation and was here yesterday to mow. We just loaf about. I tackle a small project of a wooden rack to hold my new bits and feel as though I cheat because I use the battery-powered drill to do it. I should have used my hand brace! But it is done and behind me and I will have other opportunities to use “hand” power.

Himself’s brother and wife stopped in, late morning. It was their first visit to III. Himself took them each around the trails on the 4-wheeler and I think they both enjoyed it. We had a pleasant visit, caught up on families and partook of a late lunch featuring Himself’s smoked pork loin and fresh, homegrown green beans.

It was a good summer day . . . the other side

Larry and Pat, come back soon! I forgot to take your picture to put in here; it is a rule! You have to have your photo in the Blog!