we now have 20 rakes and dozens of work gloves stashed in teh "smokers shed" and teh hill off teh dealgle house now has a label LIZANLAURA HILL on the gate-- thanks to the open invatation to help spring clean, those 2 ( laura and liz ) showed up and raked th hill--- we need to get the raking done efore i get a tractor trailer full of topsoil to spread and hopefully produce green somethings -- where if mowed enough begin to resemble "lawn" .. it ain't eaqsy-- with the pointy hooves of teh horses and donkeys their area is totally imp[ossible... but the danes toenails might be considered aerator devices?? in teh flat field???
i hate to block them off from running til we get grass growing on that flat field--- every time i come up the driveway i smile when i see that "green" area newly mowed-- when we moved in it was forest--- then gravel-- and slowly i pursuaded it to turn green- mostly dandelions and mostly thanks to donkey poop.
it used to have a stone wall across teh middle which divided what was my husband's lot ( #37 with the house--- and my lot #45 with everything else-) he lived in constant fear of spending any of "his money" on my crazy animals- thanks to teh want ad magazine and animal episodes, he didn't-- but-- the stone wall that divided the 2 lots became the fireplace in the house--
i know about rolling rocks around to build stone walls... because i rolled them around out of the wall, and into the bucket of an ancient "CASE" backhoe then trundled them up to a pile where the deagle house now is so the 2 men of italian origin did such an artful job on building the fireplace. the rest of thart story is... for weeks my life was ruled by those men yelling "more rocks" when i failed to keep up wioth their progress... the part that made it exciting- was theat CASE had no brakes.. so i would load a bucket full of heavy rocks, go up that hill and dump.. slamming the bucket into the ground to slow up my rolling backwards while avioding "that " tree... the tree with all the scars on it from when i missed calculations.
the slope of the hill near that tree can only be described as our own personal Bermuda Triangle. the subtle tilt of what is now the walk up to house has caused more people to fall-- and it looks so innocent--- i finally put up ropes to hang onto -
and in a snowstorm, when i try and plow that walk with the tracrtor- i can not tell you how many times i have slid slowly but out of control into that tree...
now comes the hard part-- that leaves me pointed up hill with the tree behind me- and no chance of moving up away from that tree even with 4wd on the tractor. it is possible to lift the tractor off it's wheels with teh hydralics-- and i often did that-- there were so many variables --- sometimes that worked-- other times i had to use the backhoe to lift the tractor sideways-- i hated to do that... firstly because ... i don't do "tip" well- as is evidence by my aversion to boats/ships.. and furthermorre to use the back hoe , the seat was not only outside the heated cab- but whoever designed it must have been very thin- because the distance from control levers and my puffy tummy and snow suit- made their manipulation not always predictable. but i survived.
i tell that story so all the camera people who experience carzy acres from a distance can begin to understand this place has never been a place where you hire some contractor to charge a fortune to accomplish some detail - when he really is only someone with a telephone and a bunch of friends-- sometimes without phones...
this has been the first of many problems i have with a building permit
first line is
who is the contractor? when i write down "i am" the problem starts
see my past reference to " you are out of your league, you are only a woman"
and that story coudl fill 3 books.
