In the nick of time, I have finished my storm shelter. All I can say is that I hope to never truly need it.
A month of fixing, painting, digging, more digging and on Saturday, she was planted.
Ground Control to Major Tom. Take your protein pill and put your helmet on.
Commencing countdown, engines on.
Two of the three space cadets tested out their new bunker. Cozy. The shelter is chained down to concrete piers, buried with more rebar and concrete along the sides... we shouldn't get sucked up into a vortex.
The third cadet is recovering nicely from surgery. He's been released from his crate and can wander freely around the house, reclaiming his couch and his spot in bed.
In lieu of enjoying a relaxing Sunday playing in the gardens,
I devised a way to frustrate myself for 5 hours. When the railroad ties were recently replaced, many fell down the steep embankment and were not collected. (Now, I know why.) I envisioned my driveway delineated by sunken railroad ties. More digging, just up my alley.
Angus was enlisted to help snake the ties.
Fail. They were too snarled in the woods for him to pull out. Besides, we were getting much, too much help from the other horses who were being total pests.
Next brilliant idea: get the truck stuck. 10 minutes to realize those railroad ties would not come willingly. 30 minutes to lay a road of limbs for the truck to free itself.
Comic relief provided by Morel who jumped into the cab while I was busy hooking up to my trailer. How did she know that I needed my frown to be turned upside down?