New Life Old Farmers

The light changes in fall and the skies are beautiful. There are no pictures of the glorious sunrises, as I enjoy them from the upstairs shower window as I get ready for the day.

Farm fresh eggs from our hens who look exactly the same. The eggs are rarely this oddly different, but don’t you wish you were a fly on the wall in the hen house when the discussion turns to how hard it is to lay an egg? (Although most flies in the hen house end up caught in a spider web, so I don’t advise it.)

My brother and his wife sent us a carton of deluxe nuts, (always nice to be thought of). I’m just wondering if they were thinking, “Well, you are what you eat.”

My summer ‘job’ is splitting wood. This pile measures about 3 cords. I’d left it out for the wind to blow through it and help it dry out. Moving the wood after I got hurt was a worry. Number Four Son has been asking, “Do you need help?” and I finally said, ‘Yes”.

Number Four with some help from his sweet wife had the 3 cords, (which by the way is hundreds of pieces of wood) stored in the woodshed within the week. I am so grateful for their willing help.

A few little friends came by the farm.

They came for the pumpkins, but they were much more interested in the poop. Yes, I said poop.

The little ones watched my buddy Beau poop in the field, much to their delight. Especially interested was the youngest who is learning what to do with his poop. I then pointed out the cow poop to the kids who thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. This encouragement was all I needed. We quickly went on a farm poop hunt. I pointed out all the different poop we found.

Chicken poop, duck poop and all of the rest. The 3 & 4 year old were delighted and honestly so was I. I don’t last long on my feet right now and I can’t tell you how much fun I had.

My largest and my weirdest pumpkins are set for THE Grands in Spokane.

Life in this healing phase, emotionally takes a toll, but clearly I am blessed.

Since the accident, progress in all things comes. It just comes ever so slowly.

My Loving Spouse hired a teen to help him install the heavy cement board in the new shower.

How to build the shower wall without piercing the redi-tile in any way was his challenge.

My part becomes finalizing design and ordering/obtaining hard to get pieces via my perch.

Emotionally our reserves are low. His by how much (everything) there is to do at home. Me by how much I can not do (everything). The joy I find in the work here on hold. I’ve been told that there are stress relieving chemicals in tears, so I should be stress-free? I can still go out and count my pumpkins, which I do daily. Current count 54…

…and then John Boy got out.

My Loving Spouse was at work and no one else was around. Broken back or not when the cows get out, you have to get up. My cow wrangling skills were decidedly challenged. Making the situation for me and for him not worse was my main objective. The only place I could get him corralled was the dog yard.

I had to trick him in, but it worked. I may not be bigger, stronger or faster than a steer, but at least I am still smarter.

I am ‘getting’ to ‘practice‘ patience. I don’t really like it.

In between my ‘practicing’ I’ll keep counting the pumpkins and the blessings. Those ‘blessings’ from my ‘family’ who remind me, that I matter and that am not alone.

Gifts of humor…

Family and friends reaching out with calls, texts and messages.

Thoughtful hopes for healing…

My sister the nurse offers advice about bodily functions.

My Loving Spouse takes on all the jobs.

My brother (a pilot) offers thoughtful perspective in caring for My Loving Spouse.

I move a bit better each day, but pain comes very quickly.

Number Two Son stops by to check up on us.

Having people we care about come alongside us in this time of recovery makes all the difference.

Having My Girl & Number Six drive 3 hours to surprise us, and bring lunch….Priceless.

For each and every one of you who reach out with your care and love…

you bless us so.

The sky was blue and the wind was not blowing. We had our day planned out. My Loving Spouse was going to go flying in his Powered Parachute and then we would finish the bathroom floor and install the toilet and sink.

The beautiful new floor was going in fairly well. We’d selected the floor the easy way by copying our friends. In fact we went to the store, had them look up my BGF’s account and ordered the exact thing.

At the last moment, My Loving Spouse said, ‘Would you like to go flying with me?’

“You know, I think I would.” I was excited to finally get a chance to fly over our countryside seeing everything from above.

‘Okay, I will have to pick you up in the big stubble field as it is long enough to take off with two people there. I will fly over and pick you up.’

I drove to the stubble wheat field and waited.

He landed in it and then we turned the plane around.

Our runway is nice and long.

The pilot goes over the pre-flight instructions, where to keep my hands and to make sure my tray table is ‘latched and in the upright position.’

We take off down the field. The parachute fills out over us, but takes some time to lift us off. Unfortunately, a gust of wind comes up and catches the parachute, turning us off course toward the incline of an irrigation ditch. There was not enough space to stop the plane, so My Loving Spouse increased his efforts to lift off. Unfortunately, we did not have enough time. We went up the incline, but then the nose of the plane dug into the other side of the ditch flipping the plane over and slamming us down on our side. It was scary, quick and violent all at once and then painful.

I could see a broken bar on the plane and hear My Loving Spouse. He wanted me to get up as gasoline was dripping on me. My back hurt. At his urging, I crawled out of the plane and lay in the field. I wasn’t quiet, the pain in my back was too intense and I think I was in shock realizing that we’d crashed. As I lay in the field I could see parts of what was left of the propeller and hunks of grass caught in one of the wheels above my head.

My Loving Spouse was gratefully much more stable and went to fetch the car.

The ER was mercifully swift, delivering my pain medication (that could possibly be the eighth wonder of the world.) I still wasn’t moving or going anywhere, but at least I stopped being ‘that creepy old lady in room 8 who was moaning loudly’.

The Nurse asked how high I could fly in a Powered Parachute and I said, “Apparently, not higher than the ditch.”

The CAT Scan showed a fractured vertebrate, which accounted for the pain. Lots of good news. No surgery, no internal problems and everything still worked. We just needed time and patience.

Once we are all safely home, My Loving Spouse gets the toilet hooked up in our bathroom again, as my ability to run through the house to the second bathroom is no more.

Running through my mind is Philippians 4:4 “Rejoice in the Lord always…”

We have much to be grateful for and we know it…

and we are blessed.

The bathroom remodel week 2, in the middle of the road where exhaustion, sore muscles and progress all meet.

We’ve racked our brains for years to think of someone skinny enough and dumb enough (I mean someone who loved us enough) to crawl around under the house and deal with the plumbing. This very old house has lots of abandoned pipes that gets in the way, to say nothing of the fact that the cold damp ground has very little clearance in places under the house.

Plumbing issues were our first big concern, as My Loving Spouse was not sure he’d be able to get around under there. With the floor gone, My Loving Spouse cuts out as many abandoned pipes as possible giving him more room to install the new pipes he needs to connect.

He spends a lot of time down there rerouting pipes and I spend a lot of time fetching what he needs.

The house has sagged so I drag in a cement pier, lumber and a jack to hoist the house back to level, (at least in this one spot.)

My Loving Spouse takes one for the team working on the drain/sewer/stinky line “up close and personal.”

I tackle removing the wall paper. My ‘intel’ tells me that I need hot water or steam. I give my steam iron a go, which works fairly well.

We screw the new floor down and one of us learns that a hot screw can really burn. (I have the Phillips head scar to prove it.)

With the plumbing ‘done’, we tackle the shower pan. Building the shower pan was our second biggest challenge. My Loving Spouse thought we ‘could’ build the cement shower pan ourselves….dreamer. We watched the YouTube instructions together while I mutter…”we can’t do that…”

We order a Tile Redi shower pan.

We also learn that My Loving Spouse will be returning to work 2 weeks earlier than we expected. Our time line gets a hard squeeze. (Reminder, this is ‘our’ bathroom, as in without it there are two old people running around in the middle of the night who need a ‘lou’.)

The Tile Redi pan arrives. It is weird. It feels odd and is very light. The bottom of the pan is ribbed for the mortar to go into.

We watch 4 different YouTube installation videos and read the instructions multiple times. We then cut the hole for the drain line…and let me tell you, we measure about 5 times before cutting. We cannot get this part wrong.

One of us mixes the mortar and one of us spreads the mortar. The one with bendable knees spreads the mortar using a trowel for the first time. I’d say that I’ve learned a lot watching DIY shows and my trowel work seems pretty darn good.

We drop the pan into place and jiggle it as the instructions indicate. Although we are still a tad nervous, it seems as if we’ve done ‘it’.

We are exhausted, but rejoicing as we’ve overcome our two biggest hurdles to this remodel.

We might be sore, we might be tired, but we are a great team and we are blessed.

There’s a toilet on our porch. Until a few hours ago, there was a bathtub out there as well. We’re at the point of no return in our mini-me master bathroom take down.

The bead board pulls off fairly easily. We’re delighted as we’ve plans on reinstalling it in the new configuration. To keep it safe, we store it out…on the porch.

I begin taking apart the dreaded ‘plastic’ shower.

We each have our jobs. My Loving Spouse whacks away, quickly demolishing the plaster board. I pick up the pieces and throw them out the window.

My Loving Spouse makes his first of many trips ‘down the hole’. He cuts the drain line so we can rip up the rest of that shower. This ugly bathroom actually gets worse before it gets better.

The floor under the shower is nasty. There is more plumbing to remove before we can take it out. Luckily, Gunner, is on hand to help.

The high points are two more trips to the dump AND, when we get to stuff a rag into the end of the sewage pipe.

We’ve planned well. There are bathroom items everywhere around the house (and the porch). We don’t know where very much is, except the bandages and the Advil. (This is not our first rodeo). The floor is gone and there’s a mad gleam in our eyes. We keep repeating that this is ‘Our last big job’.

…and even if we’re wrong, we are blessed.

We made it to Salt Lake City to meet our Little Miss. I did manage to wait until the truck was parked before jumping out to meet her, but just barely.

To say we came baring gifts could be a slight understatement. She ‘needed’ a cow lovie, as well as my favorite board book, ‘Are You A Cow?‘.

My Other Girl’s old baby blankets, a darling stuffed lamb and a hunting knife to name a few.

My Loving Spouse has decided that his deer hunting days are over. He wanted to gift Number Five Son with his deer riffle, which is apparently quite a nice one. I, however, made Number Five pickled beets, hard to keep up with me.

My Other Girl, Number Five and My Loving Spouse hauled all the gifts in, while I held the baby. Yes, that’s me, taking one for the team.

Little Miss, in case you are wondering is absolutely perfect!

What a joy to be with this sweet little family. The ‘kids’ (My Other Girl and Number Five Son) are a good team and they’ve been lucky to have Number Five working from home for the last few months. They have a very fun attitude toward this journey. They call this next picture, “Maybe she is big enough to sit in the stroller without her car seat!”

Little Miss was a great ‘camper’, coming to spend the afternoon at our campsite. I had packed my camping rocking chair just for this occasion.

The Grandparents declared it was just too hot for her at camp. We sent the family home with promises of bringing the steak dinner back to their house.

This Grammy was welcomed, encouraged and loved. Sweet words to fill our soul, ‘do you want to hold her again?’

…and we are very blessed.

We were off to see our Little Miss.

Reaching Riley, Oregon, was a very big deal. Partly because of Number Two Son, but mostly because we were almost out of fuel.

Riley had two buildings. The town started and ended on either side of these buildings. On the East side of the highway was the gas station/grocery store, where you could buy stuff like beef jerky, antlers and gum.

As you cannot pump your own gas in Oregon, the gas lady came out. Before she even had the nozzle in our tank, she’d seen the ‘Sewing Machines Solutions” info on the side of our truck.

‘Do you fix sewing machines?’, she asked.

My Loving Spouse said, “Yes, but I live in Ellensburg.”

‘Well, my husband is having trouble with a sewing machine. He is a saddle maker. He is across the road.”

Actually, he had been alerted to the reality that a sewing machine repairman had driven into ‘town’ and was running across the highway.

‘You are an answer to prayer. Can you look at my machine?’

Hmmm, how do you say ‘no’ to that? Before we knew it we were in the second (and final building in Riley), the saddle maker/Post office building.

Billie showed My Loving Spouse the machine he was having trouble with.

Billie said, “Excuse me Ma’am, but the two things I just can’t abide are a Cheatin’ Woman and a Sewing Machine that doesn’t sew.” Seriously, that is pretty hard to argue with.

Billie’s little saddle shop was fascinating. I mostly took pictures and offered wise sewing machine logic, like “have you changed the needle” while My Loving Spouse and Billie talked mechanics.

We’re not exactly sure what happened, but by the time we left, it was all working. We’d seen all of Riley and we were back on the road.

We were closer to meeting our Little Miss….and we are blessed.

I think ‘demo’ is one of my love languages.

From the first time I saw our ‘master’ mini-me bathroom, I knew it had to go.

We had big plans to knock out a wall, expand the room from mini to grand.

Apparently there are roofs in the way where one part of the old house meets the other part of the old house and suffice it to say…we’re not doing that. We are however getting ride of ugly brown cabinetry and a plastic corner shower made for very small people.

Putting in lots of cabinets and a beautiful old claw foot tub does not make a mini bathroom grand, it just makes it tight and kind of ugly. I find our ‘new’ sink at the Second Use store in Seattle for a price that might make you jealous. ($145)

The sink is bound to look even better out of the sewing room and installed in the bathroom. However, we’ve a lot more demo to do. I’ve been ‘told’ to not get carried away with the demo, we’re just getting a little start.

We are sacrificing the lovely old tub for a better lay out and more room. My Loving Spouse and The Plumber’s Helper get to work removing the tub fittings.

We roll the tub out on piano dollies to its current resting spot…the front porch.

I ‘get’ to clean up the nasty floor.

However, the old vinyl pulls up so easily, that I cannot resist just a teeny tad more demo. Seriously, why clean it when you can throw it away?

“Someone’s” Loving Spouse comes running back into the mini bath when he hears the sound of floor being torn up. Oh, ye of little faith, I know when to not over do it with demo….usually.

We’re both very excited to get this job started and even more excited to be loading up Tally-Ho for the long awaited trip to see our Little Miss…

We’re doubly blessed to get to go and see her and get to come back and do more demo!