On Monday I finished the horror of necessary bookwork--not a task for which I have much aptitude and made more frantic by J.'s hap-hazard [non] record keeping.
I felt, quite self-righteously, that I was due some 'time out'.
On Tuesday I served a hearty mid-morning meal [meant to sustain the man of the house for some hours] pegged out a load of wash, tended cats, did a small amount of tidying.
Armed with a mug of tea, I headed downstairs anticipating that I would finish the quilt which has been in progress for several weeks.
J. meanwhile, had driven the Dodge truck--Ole Snort'n Nort'n, to the end of the driveway where he could stand on the back and lop off some offending branches from the scraggly redbud trees.
Feathery lichens on redbud twigs.
I had happily discovered the perfect fabric for quilt borders, hauled it from the depth of the cupboard and gotten out the tools of the quilting trade when J. appeared on the stairs.
'What?' I demanded, my standard greeting when he looms into my space.
'I thought we'd go look at paint chips and get some paint for the garage--to match the house.'
I stowed my rotary cutter, scissors and pincushion back in the drawer of my sewing table, switched off the lamp, patted Teasel-Cat who had settled in to help.
If there is anything for which I will interrupt my plans, it is DIY Home Improvement.
We collected paint chips at Wal Mart, but couldn't locate a clerk to help us.
We drove the few miles home, matched a color chip to the yellow vinyl siding of the house, then went to Ace Hardware on the other side of town where, within minutes, an obliging and knowledgeable young man was mixing 3 gallons of 'Cheery Yellow' paint.
It is as perfect a match for the house siding as such
things can be.
The small garage was 'farmer-built' over 30 years ago of recycled and inexpensive materials.
Mr. Rogers [who built it] told us the rafters were yellow poplar, salvaged from the home of his mentor, Dr. Nell. [The doctor returned from a night time house call up in the hills to find his home, his wife and all but one child were swept away in the infamous flood of 1907.]
Mr. Rogers wryly recalled that as he was framing the little building the wind came up and skewed the uprights. He took his tractor and pulled them back into square--or as nearly as he could!
The pressed board siding has taken the worst beating on the south side of the building.
There is a ramshackle lean-to tacked on the end of the building.
We store firewood in it, and the garden rakes and shovels are lined up on the wall just inside the entrance.
During the summer months I don't go farther in than reaching for a spade or rake--no telling what lurks in the cobwebby depths.
Painting in progress.
At the end of Thursday most of the garage has had two coats of paint. The doors have been painted to match the prefabbed shutters which we purchased at Lowes.
Today Jim added painted 'trim' along the eaves.
No photo yet.]
The roses along the east wall of the garage were not pruned this summer.
I tackled them on Wednesday, cutting them back severely.
Mint planted to billow around the shanks of the bushes had rampaged in the wet weather and clambered up to wave at the top of the tallest rose bush.
I am over mint as a garden addition.
My roses don't seem to be suffering from unsightly exposed ankles and shins and I don't particularly like mint tea! In spite of yanking up yards of roots I'm sure we'll never be completely mintless.
I left several branches of the roses untrimmed as the garden spiders have placed their egg sacs in the
A giant mantis was walking up the garage door.
D. spied it and fetched out my camera.
If these creatures were large they might be scary!
What is this ugly thing?
G. turned it up while grubbing about in the overgrown bit of ground that edges the car port.
Whatever this may be, it is hard to imagine that it could morph into something less grotesque.
Through all the painting, pruning and weeding, Willis the Cat keeps watch.