Salt Point Hillbillies.

This week flew by without much in the way of home improvement. And thus, there was very little to document. The main reason for this is that we had company:



Motherly company.



The week brought on a magical and panic-inducing collision of family time, continuing home repair, and wedding planning. In the end, everyone lived to tell the tale. We got the bath up and running, Hanna killed two mice, we spun out researching heating systems, reserved various wedding reception necessities, procured a venue (we think,) removed a bat from the wall of my mom’s bedroom, met with caterers, and bought a wedding dress.


Then we celebrated at the Russian Tea Room.




The next morning my mom took off, and me and Sam attempted to re-adjust to our solitary life. As one might expect, we had a few hiccups. Hiccups tend to happen when you live in the middle of nowhere with one other person, and you have an unending list of impossible tasks to do. The hiccup was worked out, and I decided to spend the day doing something that would never naturally occur to me. I picked an activity that I could envision myself confusedly stumbling across Sam in the midst of…








I broke up our cement patio. Think of it as an early Valentines Day present. After that was “tooken” care of, I put in some hours of warfare against the chipmunk population.

This is either going to keep em out, or trap a whole bunch of them in here with us..

All afternoon I kept thinking I heard little chipmunk cries of despair.


That evening I had a rare hour of calm, which I spent wandering around our yard. I realized with a start that we seem to be rapidly nearing a fairly authentic expression of the hillbilly lifestyle. Sam had brought back various articles of “treasure” from an old barn, and they lay strewn about our yard, mingling seamlessly with all the “treasure” that was already there. See below:

our new roof. waiting patiently for installation.







makeshift downspout which drains on some busted up cement from the patio. Next to another pile of busted up cement.










our extra sink. which currently resides by the driveway.





the obligatory hillbilly yard centerpiece: a sorry looking couch facing a burn pile..










sam's new wooden gutter, which drains onto yet another piece of our busted-up patio. The plunger really adds extra HB points to this one.










Now I begin understand the wary expressions of all the service people who show up at our door. Today when the heat guy came we had all of our laundry drying around the kitchen. Folks generally relax once they realize we’re not actually whackadoos, but just a couple of doo-nannies taking their junque on the road…

“Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.”

Charles Bukowski.



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One Response to Salt Point Hillbillies.

  1. Pingback: Breakfast of Champions! | JUNQUE On THE ROAD

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