Treasure Hunt

On Sunday I went to San Francisco. For 12 hours. Less, actually, as my flight to SFO was scheduled for 8:10 am, and my flight home was at 8:10 pm. And to add to the insult of so few hours in the Bay Area, my morning flight was late by an hour. Gotta love SFO.

When I returned home at 11:00 pm, I saw this.

And entering the garage (aka my current front entrance), I found this:

And another:

I'm not sure what this one is doing, because it is by the Penthouse door:

In reality, this one had the prize...

...behind the door...

My patio set! It's out of the box! It's (almost) put together!

(I love the Farmer...)

And yes, we ate dinner on it...in the garage changing room...Monday night.

Because we could.



Portable Sanitation Association International

Early on I informed The Farmer that I did not like Yard Art. You know, the gnomes, the pink flamingos, the weird metallic balls that I think are calling aliens, the wooden cutout of grandma's backside...

They are all off limits.

As well as campaign signs, as we would be confusing folks as to why we were voting for both candidates. Yes, The Farmer and I typically cancel each other's vote. But more on that later.

The Farmer listens well...it's one of his best attributes. On a side note, this is also a dangerous attribute, as he FORGETS NOTHING. It's going to haunt me more than once, I think.

But in this case of yard art, The Farmer didn't listen too well. Or at least he ignored my wishes, because before we even went away that one weekend (you know, THAT weekend) I had a very large yard art item in my front yard.

In fairness to The Farmer, I think there was some policy that required this lawn adornment, but still...

It makes a great first impression.

But, as The Farmer found out yesterday, it's also quite convenient. Because yesterday The Farmer decided at least one Aegerter needed to use the facilities while it was in our yard.

AKA...I wouldn't let him in the house as he was wearing his barn clothes.

The Farmer reported that our port-a-potty is quite clean, which is good to hear. And he came away with a fun fact o' the day:

Did you know there was a Portable Sanitation Association International? Not I.

Perhaps this means The Farmer will stop making fun of my PNACAC T-Shirt.

Buckin' Hay (+ Bonus: A**less Chaps)

Two nights ago the back silage field looked like this:

The Farmer had filled the silo and decided to turn the rest into hay. So he cut...and he cut...and he cut. This little field that "usually doesn't produce much" was thick and deep with grass. 475 bales worth.

The Farmer wasn't quite ready for haying season just yet. Yes, some of the machinery was up and running, but not the hay wagon. The Farmer didn't want to test fate and so he and the Neighbor Kid (who's not really a kid as he's 20-ish, but neighbor man sounds wierd) bucked some hay.

I drove the truck.

But first The Farmer had to put on his a**less chaps.

I like a**less chaps.

And I can't believe my life now includes them. 

I think The Farmer is annoyed I'm taking his picture here. But really? I had to get the chaps!

The boys are going to get a good workout on this one...

Yes, I was driving and taking photos.

But I was only going about 1 mile an hour, if that. And I was wearing my seatbelt.

I think.

And even when you pick up all the bales, there is more to do tomorrow.



Stian (The Neighbor Kid)



At the end The Farmer and Stian then had to tie things up. The puffy white clouds don't aid in the process, but they make everyone feel better.

At this point The Farmer said, "You'll want to get a picture of this." This is code for "I'm going to do something really cool and manly here."

It was.

Of course afterwards The Farmer wanted to know "if I got it".

"Almost."

"Oh, I thought you would have taken a movie."

"Uh. I would have, but it all happened in about 3.4 seconds and you didn't tell me what you were doing."

Next time I'll be better at reading his mind.

This all took about 45 minutes.

Those boys are good! (and stinky)

While the trailer and the truck were loaded down with hay, we still left about 70 bales on the ground. So The Farmer and Stian moved bales into nice neat rows.

For tomorrow.

Meeting the Contractor, Bring Your Chainsaw

We were meeting with our contractor on Thursday this week at 9:30, because The Farmer comes in from morning milking "a little after 9:00". "A little after 9:00" I heard the brown truck rattle into the driveway. While The Farmer normally walks the three minutes from the barnyard to The Jungle House, it's also not uncommon for him to drive if he's got an errand to run, in a REALLY BIG hurry, or if he has something to bring over.

My first thought was "Yay/Phew/Wow/Really?" he arrived home on time. Sometimes he doesn't.

My second thought was "Is that a chainsaw?"

Why yes, yes that is...

Because The Farmer decided that morning to take advantage of the 15 minutes between milking and the contractor meeting to cut down a tree.

Isn't that what everyone does when they have 15 minutes to spare?

In case you are worried that The Farmer goes around cutting down random trees, know that we were planning to cut down this particular tree (along with a few others).

I just didn't know it was going to be Thursday.

It looks rather nice, don't you think?

(The before shot, to remind you...)

And yes, the mutant tree on the left in the "after" shot above is also coming down. We just need to let the mama bird and her babies move out first.

A Bit of Frosting and Popcorn

The Farmer and I have differing ideas of style. Me? I like colors and a bit of simplicity. The Farmer? He wants all the walls white and "a bit of frosting". You know...curly-cues and such. He is a true Swiss (he would love to live in a chalet if I would let him), while my Scandinavian straight lines come through a bit more. But since he's letting me paint the house (though he's confused by the number of different paint cans now in the middle of the dining room), I'll let him keep a few of the curly-cues.

Such as the ones in the Pool Room.

But first we have to scrape the popcorn because yes, the moulding has been textured.

Really? The ceilings weren't enough? You had to potentially ruin the woodwork?

So we set out to see if this was salvagable.

Don't you have scaffolding in your house? We do.

Fortunately the initial scraping went well.

Next steps will be wash, use the buffer, then oil the wood underneath.

Anyone is welcome to come and help.

I'll bring the frosting and popcorn.

This Is What Happens When I'm Gone For Four Days

I was in NYC for work earlier this week, and upon my return I discovered someone had stolen all the spoons.

Apparently the bowls and glasses were also popular. The mugs and plates...not so much...

Luckily, I found all the missing items.

OK, in reality the dishes didn't look like this when I returned. Everything was a bit....dirtier...

It reminded me of my sister E, who refuses to wash pots. (We are unsure why. We don't believe there was any childhood trauma surrounding washing pots.) As such, when her husband returns home from a business trip the sink is full of pots. What a lovely welcome home present!

To be fair, The Farmer did apologize the moment I got home. I think it was the second thing he said to me while we were still in the driveway.

"Sorry about the dishes."

Uh...yeah...

But to be fair, he wasn't just using spoons, bowls, and glasses. I did also find this upon my return to the Jungle House...

Don't recognize the room? Perhaps this will help...

It's amazing what a little paint will do.