Just got a call from the man in Greenlake and he's sending up a dump truck load of fill dirt. Secretly, and openly, I was hoping this stuff would arrive on Monday so I could not feel the pressure to move it in time for the party. But, free dirt delivered is free dirt delivered. Cannot complain about that. I think I'm going to put some cookies in the oven for those guys...
Alright, tarps are out (10 yards is a LOT of dirt for a city house), cookies are in the oven, maybe I should brush my teeth or something. Or just keep drinking coffee and rock the morning breath.
So, this is good. The dirt means we get to fill in the low spot where we want to move the chicken coop. That means we'll have a good flat place for it by Tuesday, when my dad said he'd come out and help us build the foundation. Foundation = floor = wall = roof = secure place to lock up our chickens. Then, I just need to build them a run, get them back from my dad and loose them in the backyard. And then get another one. That's the plan. And the end of the first big outdoor project. Soon, the dirt will be piled in the driveway, I picked up the roofing pieces yesterday, and the rest of the wood is laying under the eaves on the backside of the house. Perfect.
That will end one small saga of summer fun. Other sagas include:
- attacking the grass that is now up to my shins. I think we finally have a working weed whacker. And mowing the lawn is guaranteed good times if you're at all into off-roading.
- building raised beds for the $50 of plant starts we bought last weekend. This is typical, as soon as we can see the end of one stressful project we get more young things that need space and put them in the mudroom, until we can build them their outdoor home.
- re-seeding the lawn after filling in the low spots. And then, putting a stone pathway in place of the dirt track that Suzy has created around the house.
- possibly having that middle poplar taken out. No small task, but someone is coming to check it out tomorrow.
- digging the railroad ties into the front parking area and graveling the space between them and the road to avoid that giant winter mud pit.
And, that's just for starters. Good thing I eat this shit up. I don't know if Molly does. Sometimes, I think. Other times, I am less convinced. Like when she's staring angrily at a point in the distance as my dad and I debate the benefits of moving the 500# chicken coop and possibly removing the 100 year-old tree that it's currently under. But, I haven't been this excited about something since I was in the fire department or playing rugby. Hazzah for time-consuming, body-beating hobbies.
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