This One’s for You, Mr. Robinson

Ever want to know what a superhero looks like?  He looks like this:
This is our friend, Bob, who’s a superhero.  He’s made an appearance or two in this blog before.  He’s been our mentor, our motivator, our commentator, and the one who brings Yuengling every time he visits.  Other would-be visitors, please take note.  I actually think this is a nice photo.  I took it on the ol’ Mass Pike on the way home from a visit to Brimfield.  Brimfield, for those of you who don’t know, is the massive antique and junk sale that happens in Central Mass, in the town of Brimfield.  It’s a locus for junquesters like us, of whom Bob happens to be one.  So it was convenient that Bob was here when Brimfield was going on.  Incidentally, Central Massachusetts in July is pretty hot, if you’re considering a visit, but I’d say, also, worthwhile, because everyone thinks it’s gonna be too hot, so they don’t go.  So it’s less crowded, and, in my opinion, the deals are better.  I don’t think everyone shares those sentiments, but hey, if you want to hear what somone else thinks, go read their blog.   Bob got a coupla hand planes, which he needs like I need another hen not laying eggs.  I swear, I don’t know how many handplanes Bob has, but it’s gotta be, like, thousands.  I’m pretty sure he keeps them in his underground lair with his special superhero car and butler sidekick, and transponders and stuff.  And seriously, none of our hens are laying eggs.  I wasn’t kidding about that either.  And I think that’s just garbage, and you can tell the hens I think that, see if I care.  They started to – laid about 4 real nice ones (this is the just-coming-into-maturity Black Barred Rocks, now) – then quit.  Either they’re not laying at all, or they’re laying abroad somewhere in the field or grass or what have you.  Well you can guess about how much good that does me.  Also, in a sad bit of news we had to do away with one of those Barred Rocks.  He got sick, and we tried to let him recover, but no go.  So yesterday I put him out of his misery.  Which was kinda sad.  We liked Rudyard.  I’ll spare you photos of that little piece of true-life farm business.  Anyway, here’s a photo of most of the fowl family, having a Sunday afternoon roost:
Please don’t judge us for all the crappe that seems to be hanging around along with the fowl, or with the advanced decrepitude of those park benches.  We’re gradually trying to get the place spruced up, but it takes time.  And apparently, we’re not so good at throwing stuff away.  We’re getting better though!  If you look in the background, you can just see a couple ducks.  We like those three a lot.  They’ve got a real personality all their own, and they just up and decided to move into the chicken house.  So now everybody’s together, under one somewhat leaky roof.
Thanks to the great amount of time since my last post, I admit, I’m meandering a bit.  Thanks for bearing with me.  First, what we got at Brimfield:
Gosh, this is just a terrible photo!  But hopefully, you can see at it’s top, a light fixture!  Finally, where before there was only bare wire, now there’s an actual functional (and pretty dang nice, if I do say so) light fixture.  Ironically, I took a photo of it turned off.  Which seems like an odd choice.
Bob also visited because we’re trying to move the chip forward on renovating our ol’ back section.  Remember this room?
Well, turns out, the whole floor system is pretty sitting on dirt, and rotted in a couple significant places.  Like places that hold the building up.  Which means the floor’s spongy in the good spots, and downright rotted through in other spots.  So we pulled up the floor, which you see above, and now it looks like this:
So Bob, who’s got a lot of expertise in this area came to help us lift up sinking floors and walls, with house jacks.  It takes a lot of setup, but then ultimately, you just lift the whole dang house up.  It creaks and groans, lines line up, and then, voila!  You note that that things aren’t looking so cockeyed anymore.  Now we’ve got to pour a concrete sill beam, atop the foundation, place a new sill, repair the rotted stud bottoms, and sit the wall back down.  Just a little work still to do.  And that’s only one wall.
One of the most important jobs to do when you’re preparing to jack up a house is the house-jacking dance, here interpreted by someone you may know:
And here’s Bob doing the setup:

Thank you Bob.  Thank you so much.
Also, here’s the CD I didn’t buy at the grocery store last night whilst Casey was experiencing a hail storm at the house:

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One Response to This One’s for You, Mr. Robinson

  1. I know that dance! It is the chicken dance, a kindergarten favorite. Maybe you should perform it for the hens and it will stimulate them to do more than just look pretty and eat.

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