Cranky trailers

During the greenhouse-building process we needed the assistance of the cotton trailer (shown below). It hauled each end piece from the barn, where they were constructed and painted, to the greenhouse site.

The most difficult dynamic to the cotton trailer is that it tends to be more cranky when backing into spaces. Nathan found his own solution.

He used the yellow forks on Mae to pick up the front half of the trailer and push it submissively into the barn.

Worked like a charm.

Kitty on the edge

Salty kitty is so over being a full-time indoor cat. She charges the back door anytime it's open hoping to get a breath of fresh air.

We keep telling her we'll all be back at the vineyard soon and she can return to her walkabout ways if she prefers. I'm pretty sure all she hears is "Waa waa waa waa Tuna waa waa waa waa."

Green cheer

The crew has slowly been making their way around the deer fence perimeter painting the support beams. As much as we love the rusty industrial look . . . the cheery green gets my vote.

Love those happy faces on such a cold day!

Twenty-four weeks pregnant

I didn't know my heart could be this full.

Plastic fiend

Today was our day for getting the greenhouse finalized. Twelve hundred square feet of plastic mesh draped over the pvc skeleton.

The forecasted absence of wind was incorrect. Let's just say it did not go well.

Corbel love

For the open shelving in the kitchen.

Speaking of safety hazards . . .

It's ironic we were talking about safety hazards and OSHA yesterday.

Later that morning we were putting up one of the end pieces to the greenhouse.

Everything was going along smoothly. Blake fortuitously stopped by and helped at a particularly crucial moment.

And then the fun began. Nathan started pounding the support pieces into the ground using a metal picket pounder. With his full force behind him he smacked his own head with the darn thing. It was a hard enough hit to knock him to the ground and offer him a beautiful showing of stars.

He gave himself a whopping minute of respite and then was back to pounding more support pieces in place.

Until he smacked himself a second time in the very same place. This time blood started gushing down his forehead. My very solid, mature reaction was to burst into sobbing tears.

Incredibly helpful.

Through the heaves I ordered Nathan to the truck. I drove us like a banchee to a neighbor's house several miles down the road. (Thank you so much, Alexis!) She provided ice and water and the gift of decisiveness when I was in no condition to do so.

After a trip to an emergency clinic, three stitches and a medicinal ice cream cone, he's doing much better. Fair warning: helmets are no longer optional safety equipment here at BSV.