Baby Trees!

 

TREES!!!!!

 

 

Three weeks ago (!) we went with our friend Jarrett to the Georgia State Farmer’s Market and bought 22 trees. 12 for Thomas and I and 11 for Jarrett – landscaping fiends that we now are.
You can hear the highway from Butters, so we knew we wanted screening trees that would grow fast and withstand, well, whatever.
So we got arborvitae – the same trees that my parents have in their back yard. Ours are ever so slightly smaller. Thomas had some deep seated need for fruit trees, so we also bought a granny smith apple tree. And I checked, it doesn’t need another tree to bear fruit.

So, we bought them Saturday and planted them the next day – luckily, we’ve been getting some pretty crazy rain, so digging all those holes wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it’d be. Still not a snap, but I didn’t want to cry. Always good.

The following weekend we installed a spigot outside and got our hose and sprinkler set up to water the new babies.

Then Thomas and our neighbor John took down the old chicken wire-esque fence that ran along the back of both our properties. They also tested out our new lawn mower and weed eater clearing out a couple truck loads of debris (plant debris, luckily). So then it was time to go back to the scrap yard. I never thought I’d be so familiar with the workings of scrap, but. . .at least it’s out of our yard and not in a landfill.

I think that’s all the pictures I have for this post – oh, there are some bonus shots of Greg’s massive wind chime and the chicken coop Dave P and Greg rebuilt for their new chickens. The chime was altered to include a bowling ball shortly after I took these pictures. And I haven’t taken any pics of the baby chickies yet, but might be doing that tonight. . .

Oh no! I forgot about my Valentine’s Day present! Thomas built me two cold frames so we could start growing flowers from seeds inside. Now we’ve expanded to tomatillos and artichokes and are keeping our fingers crossed.

Pansies!

Coldframe

My Coldframe and Cow Cat

Getting in the Mood

Thomas and Jarrett with his Cypress trees

Cypress Binding

Tree Holding Pen

TREES!!!!!

Thomas and the Granny Smith

I’m officially a Tree Hugger!

Tree Planting Booty

Bottlescape

Pointy Load

Thomas Climbing Fence

Thomas Squishing Fence

Loading up the truck

King of the Fence

Dave’s Coop

Before the Bowling Ball

Greg’s Windchime

A picture, A thousand words

 

 

A View of Mr. Heatmiser

 

I’ve gotten so far behind that I feel the best way to catch up is to put up my latest pictures.
Sorry for no story – our furnace story looks to be turning into a choose your own adventure, so I’m trying to give it a little time.
Hopefully you’ll enjoy some shots of tools and such in the meantime!

A View of Mr. Heatmiser

You’ve seen this before – old ductwork

Dan, our furnace man!

Our Condenser Unit – Thank you Dave (and Dave’s Sister!)

The “door” to our attic

Our Breaker Box

I have no idea what these are for – but aren’t they awesome?!

I told you they were awesome!

Part of our Ductwork

Thomas Cutting Out Stuff

The Floor in our Living Room (for now)

Part of Dan’s Hydrogen Thing for His Truck

1.75 Tons

 

Inside Out

 

Yep, all that was inside Butters.
Then we (mostly Thomas, but I helped) loaded all that you see up there on Thomas’ uncle Jerry’s 30 foot trailer and he and his dad took it to the dump.
The 1.75 tons comes in here. The dump charges you by weight, and our trailer full o’ Butters was 1.75 tons.

Seriously, let’s think about that for a second. Thomas tore that all down (as I think I’ve admitted before, I’m a bit of a wuss with the panelling) and I carried it all outside into that massive pile.

The top layer of that pile is another story. Icky night that was.
It was the day that we found out we needed to get rid of all of the kudzu, now. Thomas had pulled up the carpet in our office-to-be and found a nasty wood floor beneath.
So he started pulling it out, finding an even nastier wood subfloor beneath that.
Enter Kim, fresh off a long day of work.

I get in and Thomas gives me a crowbar and hammer and I start actually tearing out.
Turns out, it’s just panelling that I’m a wuss with. Floor? Well, rotted wood floor? I got that.
Ok, it wasn’t as easy as all that, but I was able to handle it. To a point.
I’m not sure what brought about the point, but it came. It may have had something to do with my foot repeatedly breaking through the subfloor, or thinking about the fact that it was about 9:30 pm and I had to be at work at 6 am, but I finally broke down and cried. In my defense, I think it should be known that I was holding the aforementioned crowbar and hammer – I mean how girly can I possibly be holding those?! Ok. I dropped them just prior to really crying.

Which sent Thomas into a concerned tizzy trying to figure out how I’d hurt myself now. Once he got me to talk (really a hard thing for me once I’ve started crying – ask my Dad, who learned that during a transatlantic call, poor guy). Anyway, once he got me talking, I think I gasped something along the lines of “we bought a rotted, termite infested house full of rat poo!” (yeah, I’ve left some of the more glamorous bits out – don’t worry about the pests though – both were WAY prior and have been dealt with).

A sweaty, dirty and kinda snotty (me) hug came next with Thomas turning into Mr. We Can DO IT!!! The Engine. He just kept reassuring me in his infallibly logical way; pointing out all we’ve done so far and how it’s going to be fine. He and his dad would be mudding the floor we were tearing out tomorrow and it would be done by the time I got home from work. It wouldn’t look like a pile of pallets exploded, it would be a nice, smooth concrete floor ready to be tiled. We would take care of the kudzu that weekend; he’d already called in help. He and his dad would take the trailer full of Butters away. . .all the while telling me how proud he is of me and what a trooper I’ve been. How he wouldn’t have been able to do this without me. How much he loves me. All the good things that I needed to hear just then. He’s a good man, that one.

It seems like that’s become our turning point – Thomas has even said that he was feeling just as beat down as I was and it took my breaking down to bring him up. He had to be the optimist and it helped put things in perspective, which showed him that it really was going to be ok.

whew. When I cry, things happen!

I don’t normally have photographic records of me crying – and there aren’t any shots here, but there are pics I took that lead up to the crying. . .

all that was in there!

The Pile at Night – that night

The Floor Mid-Tear Out

Rotted Floor

One of the places my foot went through

Thomas’ Dad (Tommy) mudding the Floor the Next Day

Thomas Mudding the Floor the next day