It has been quite a while since we've posted anything about the progress on our land. For several years it seemed we were practically spinning tires . . . the harder we worked, the slower the progress seemed. But now we are reaping the benefits of all those long hours invested seemingly without reward.
Our last trip out there was the middle of November just before Thanksgiving, and since there is so much to cover, there will likely be at least 2 posts' worth. : )
Even in a van full and overflowing with people and their "necessities" (a whole 4 days' worth!), Allison still managed to make room for Lickerish and all her doggy luggage.
Unsweetened tea???? Yup ~ seems to be a staple around here . . . : )
(Only for certain individuals!)
The main objective of this trip was to get the boards milled for the barn as well as the shed for the mill. Those were our plans, but God had something a little different in mind.
"The Dreamer . . ."
Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.
~ Thomas Edison
After huffing and puffing for a few minutes, they got the log out of the middle of the driveway.
In case you saw the seeming haste Sara seemed to be in (note last picture), this is what she was checking on . . .
She was cooking the squirrel they had shot that morning. They said it turned out a bit tough. Maybe the rotisserie wasn't such a grand idea?
We had bought a compressor the trip before, but everything worked out to where we didn't need it. So this trip, we were able to return it, which meant an outing to Fayetteville.
By the time we got back, they had the log on the mill, and had done the first cut on it.
This is hard work!
They had definitely earned their breather!
We girls had to hurry back to camp to get supper going. Getting late, and we needed a little bit of a head start.
Daddy helping????
The daily campfire was so much fun! It was kept going almost constantly . . . as long as the wood was there, the fire was burning. : )
Poor Daddy was plumb tuckered out!
It was so relaxing to spend the darkness of the evening sitting around the fire. Some listened to music, some fed the fire, and still others sat as close as possible while their fronts roasted and their backs froze. That's when Sara's rotisserie would come in handy! : )
Our stay was not without the usual campsite critters. At least it wasn't the yellow jackets this time . . . they're the worst nuisance of all!
I love how the sand is still in position from where the mushrooms pushed their way through to the surface.
Cacti! : ) This is not a new revelation to us. No, not in the least. It's almost as rampant as poke weed around there. We mean to someday try to cook the blooms (the red part). We've heard it can be done and that it's edible, but we'll have to do further research to learn exactly how. Wouldn't want a prickly esophagus!
"Me 'n my pup . . ."
Coffee . . . it must run in their veins by now. Coffee and unsweetened tea . . .
Here is the building that was built to store the windows in. We desperately needed a storage building anyway, so this has served a double purpose.
They are able to store their tools, etc. in there instead of having to keep them on the truck. There are also some things that we don't need anywhere but there, so now we are able to leave them there meaning less cargo on the long trips back and forth.
Can't remember the conversation, but it sure does look lively . . . : )
Dad spent his time roofing the building.
Our driveway . . . the tiny speck of a vehicle marks approximately the halfway point.
Can't wait til the mill is running smoothly.
Mom and a couple others decided to take on the big job of organizing the building. And the first step to organization? Shelves! : )
Just a tweak here . . .
. . . and a turn there . . .
Gotta get it just right.
Ahhhhh . . . sawdust!
Test run . . .
He was trying to get the blade lined up just right. For some reason, the mill is cutting at an angle (from thick to thin).
Just gotta love those unscripted moments . . .
Well, during the last test run, a gear broke. What to do . . . what to do . . .
That is still the question.
