Driveways
In keeping with my unanticipated tradition of devoting no more than half my journal to its purported raison d'être, here's an update on the house we're building.
For the benefit of all four people who actually read my journal (at least zero of whom probably don't already know), my family is building a new house. Well, more accurately, we sign the checks that encourage others to build the house--knowing, as we do, our limitations in the horrific and sadly related areas of Heavy Lifting and Honest Work.
Spring's here in Pennsylvania, and so work time has begun. As we work through the final steps of mortgaging and paperwork, we're also putting in a driveway to access our land. For comparison purposes, here's what the driveway looked like last spring:
The wanna-be "driveway" was, at the time of this picture, coated with about 2 feet of wood chips--these being the remains of the (probably unicorn- and elf-filled) sylvan glade which we brutally demolished in our Onceler-like way immediately upon purchasing the lot.
But observe! Mix in three quarts of CONSTRUCTION VEHICLES and half a liter of STOCKY BURLY MEN WHO SMOKE CIGARS to drive them, et voila:
I know, I know: the elves are off crying bitter tears and lamenting the loss of their beloved homeland--but we, WE rejoice in the beginning of the project! Here are some more tantalizing tidbits, to titillate and transfix:
Yes, Virginia, these clever fellows have even applied DRAINAGE CHANNELS to prevent waxy build-up:
Near the top, the channel switches back. This is one of the highest spots in the county, and we're building essentially at the crest--so there's a bit of climbing to get up there:
I regret to inform you that I most dreadfully neglected to take pictures of the top of the lot, which has come a long way from its primeval aspect of last year: now it's a giant dirt-covered expanse of opportunity. Just wait! Just WAIT!
For the benefit of all four people who actually read my journal (at least zero of whom probably don't already know), my family is building a new house. Well, more accurately, we sign the checks that encourage others to build the house--knowing, as we do, our limitations in the horrific and sadly related areas of Heavy Lifting and Honest Work.
Spring's here in Pennsylvania, and so work time has begun. As we work through the final steps of mortgaging and paperwork, we're also putting in a driveway to access our land. For comparison purposes, here's what the driveway looked like last spring:
The wanna-be "driveway" was, at the time of this picture, coated with about 2 feet of wood chips--these being the remains of the (probably unicorn- and elf-filled) sylvan glade which we brutally demolished in our Onceler-like way immediately upon purchasing the lot.
But observe! Mix in three quarts of CONSTRUCTION VEHICLES and half a liter of STOCKY BURLY MEN WHO SMOKE CIGARS to drive them, et voila:
I know, I know: the elves are off crying bitter tears and lamenting the loss of their beloved homeland--but we, WE rejoice in the beginning of the project! Here are some more tantalizing tidbits, to titillate and transfix:
Yes, Virginia, these clever fellows have even applied DRAINAGE CHANNELS to prevent waxy build-up:
Near the top, the channel switches back. This is one of the highest spots in the county, and we're building essentially at the crest--so there's a bit of climbing to get up there:
I regret to inform you that I most dreadfully neglected to take pictures of the top of the lot, which has come a long way from its primeval aspect of last year: now it's a giant dirt-covered expanse of opportunity. Just wait! Just WAIT!