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…”
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 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’.
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?’
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.
Men at Work
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.
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!
When we moved to the country, to the ‘berg’, to Glory Farm many family and friends alike questioned our thinking. (Actually, this trend did not completely go away, we’ve just gotten better at ignoring them). Sweet P. was not one of those. She ‘got it’.
It just took longer for her to make her inaugural visit. Make it she did, complete with the sweetest of entourage.
Sweet P., Mr. South Pas and the Hawaiian Gma wanted to see everything and I mean everything. All the animals, my old wood & window stash, My Loving Spouse’s workshop, Cluckingham Palace, the barn and we’d yet to make it in the house.
They brought us tea towels to say nothing of the gifts for Gunner & The Little Miss.
Sweet P. is a die hard bargain hunter. Great excitement was evident, as we set out early for 2 garage sales on each side of our valley and…I couldn’t find either one. (I know, it is a gift.) The drive was beautiful. It reminded me of when I was a Realtor and I’d get a little bit ‘lost’ while showing houses. I got really good at saying things like, “Oh, I just wanted you to see more of the neighborhood”.
Mr. South Pas. enjoyed riding the newest ‘toy’, My Loving Spouse picked up for free at a Garage sale. (Yes, a garage sale he actually found). Yep, free and he had it running in no time. Mr. South Pas. listened intently to all of our safety instructions, as these little things turn over pretty easily.
Until his wife, Sweet P. wanted a ride.
The Hawaiian Gma was intrigued by our herd. The Jett showed off that he was indeed the alpha male of the alpaca herd.
Then they got to experience the Ellensburg wind. The 30 mph gusts had them shelving their plans for doing ‘farm chores’, riding on the mower or playing croquet and they headed inside. Just in time for group #2.
This ‘little’ guy was 3 years old, when his family moved in next door. Our families became very close and from here I launched my stellar babysitting career.
Mark’s Brother and his family had plans to camp in the yard, but with the 30 mph winds….they chose to spend the night in the barn. (Yes, I offered them beds…but they had a plan). Mark’s Brother moved through the house looking for and finding keepsakes from my parents home.
All 9 of us fit easily around the new kitchen table. Summer-time fare, water-melon, potato salad and sausages. We emptied the freezer with all of the sausages My Loving Spouse had made. Adventures in eating with promises that there would be no condemnation, should you get one you didn’t like. (Turn that link in for another). Our home was full and the mix of mayhem felt wonderful.
Even if we had to break out the mood lighting for puzzle doers to keep at work.
The joy that comes from being together with people who know both your joys and sorrows, whether from days long past as well as those few people who know the very tender spots in your heart today….is priceless….
We are waiting for the stars to align (for the farm sitter to have a whole week free to watch our critters.) We are impatient to go and visit the Little Miss. Some of us were getting a tad crabby, so we planned a quick get out of town within our farm sitter’s 2 day availability.
We packed up Tally-Ho and set off for Lake Chelan and Lake Manson, just a few hours away. Harvest Host was our go to planning guide. They had two wineries with room for us a night each. We arrived at Cheval Cellars to park up for our first night. We sat outside among their apple orchard reading for the afternoon, enjoying the lack of chores.
Marcus arrived in the evening and gave us a tour and a tasting of both their wines and their hard ciders.
We learned the new word/concept – ‘preferment’ coined by Marcus and his wife of a life ‘after’ careers where one is obviously still ‘working’, just at a different sort of purpose. Clearly not ‘retirement’ it is ‘preferment’ (Something like a small farm, might fit this definition). They joined us back at Tally-Ho for cheese, chutney, crackers, tacos and wine, of course. We enjoyed their company immensely, and have penciled in a return to help with bottling this fall.
On day two we set off for town, determined to enjoy a relaxing breakfast. We walked all over until we finally found the sign we were looking for.
Perfect, just what we were looking for! Except for this second sign, no not the ‘beer’ sign, this sign.
Bad British Word.
We adjusted our plan, digging out the sandwiches we’d bought for lunch, eating them in the beautiful River Walk Park.
We watched families coming and going with paddle boards, dogs and bikes. It was completely delightful.
Next on our list of winery was Amos Rome Vineyards. We were suppose to check in at 1:00, which is normally a tad early to start drinking wine.
I must say we adapted fairly well, oh, and the Malbec was delightful!
The view was lovely.
Tally-Ho worked so well. We enjoyed our quick trip out of town. I’ve never been camping before where you come home with more wine than you left with!
We’re enjoying our summer and waiting until we can get our snuggles with that baby girl. We hope you are all well, and indeed, we are blessed.
We were supposed to be gone visiting our Little Miss this week. However, the turbo charger in the truck stopped turbo-ing, so we were home for THE Weather.
It was probably a good thing we were here for all five days of the “h-e-double toothpicks” ( that’s an old quote of Betty’s). No one is going to care for your animals, the gardens and the fields like yourself. As the heat started to rise last Friday we zipped out early for a yard sale and found the one thing we actually needed.
At a whooping $3.00, a shade cloth was procured for the ‘little boys’. Carlos, Santana and Smooth appreciated our efforts, but nothing really beats a sprinkler.
The heat wave certainly ‘encouraged’ us to finish our upgrades to our sprinkler system.
Any gardening I did was done in the early morning or the 30 minutes between ‘it’s not hot as hell anymore’ and ‘oh, Bad British Word the mosquitos are out’.
As we do not have A/C, we did ‘all the things’. The windows, the drapes, the fans, the fans in the windows, cold lite beer instead of red wine. Every afternoon we went for a nice long drive through the countryside in our air conditioned car to protect our dwindling sanity.
I tried telling My Loving Spouse that he didn’t get to complain about the heat, as he complains about the cold and the wind. It was my turn.
We did however, make it..
Thank the Lord.
The wind is blowing which has cooled everything off.
It’s not a breeze, it’s more of a gale.
Someone is doing his best to not complain about it, which I appreciate and
After living for most of my 50++ years in the suburbs of Southern California with pools and sidewalks, I am now living on a farm in the Pacific Northwest with animals and dirt…and having the time of my life! Change is good….and I am blessed.
Retirement brought the end of our time at Glory Farm and a move to Scotland, where we live in a historical small fishing village along the North Sea...To God Be The Glory
