Another weekend comes to an end. Let us take a few moments to reflect.
I choose to start this off by bitching. Have I complained to you about my dirt yet?
I may have.. but I don’t care.
I recently purchased 5ish yards of composted horse manure from a semi-local fellow who recommended himself on Facebook. I didn’t really need the manure, I just needed something that wasn’t clay that I could cover the french drain with. Upon initial inspection i was very pleased with the product. Once I started spreading it around I noticed I was hitting quite a few chunks of clay. Big chunks. Then I started finding rocks… big rocks. After a few rains I noticed gravel all throughout the dirt. Perfect.
I reached out to the seller to let him know about the problem and see what he could offer. He offered to pick up the gravel I had already sorted out. I asked if he could come screen it on site and he said his screener was down. Suddenly this was very reminiscent of my dealings with crappy tree companies, ‘uuhhh I can’t get back right now, chipper’s down’, never hear from them again.
So I took matters into my own hands. My little brother Shuffles was over and we needed a project. We gathered up the rebar that I had smashed out of my trash concrete and gave it a quick cleaning. We welded it up and shazam, dirt screener. It worked ok…. Alright it was garbage. But it was a fun excuse to break out the welder with my brother.
I know I have another screener buried in the weeds somewhere but I can’t find it for the life of me, so I bought some more material and whipped one up that would fit over the wheelbarrow.
Much better. Got through a bunch of dirt before the weekend rain started. I’d like to get this driveway clear someday so we’re not always walking through a mud pit. Don’t let the picture fool you, it’s submerged again.
Alright, now that I got that out of my system..
Saturday was The Boss’s Boss’s annual pig roast. It’s a yearly tradition where we join coworkers and their families to sacrifice an entire pig, drink Irish car bombs, and endure the inevitable monsoon. It pours down rain every year at that party. This year was an amazing exception. The weather was perfect. No rain, just lots of fun.
Sunday was once again a day of cleanup. Got a little done in the house and escaped to the Red Shed. I’m happy to say I got it to he point that I could see the floor again. It’s been a while. I need to make some room for new furniture that my dad brought me.
Aaaand the floor is gone! I got this gem in a trade with a buddy. It ran (barely) for a good week. After looking it over I’m not even sure how it ran. The spark plug wires were broken in several places. A few other disconnected and bare wires throughout. It’s time for another overhaul. This should go better than my last one.. right?!
I stripped apart and broke the driver’s seat frame. To be fair it was really rusty.
I’m not sure what the spare red wire on the left is for, guess it wasn’t needed. The bare wire on the right is the positive wire, I think it’s a kill switch.
While I was working in the shed I was constantly harassed by a family of pompous little birds. I think they were upset that Sir Muttons was playing with me instead of chilling in his nest.
Alright, doesn’t look much different than the first photo. I’m trying to have something resembling a plan. I want to strip everything off including the engine. Make sure I can get the engine running moderately happy, then weld up the broken bits in the frame, toss a seat or two in, and call it good. We’ll see.
Saved the best bit for last. My brand new shiny ’92 F150 XLT! My dad dropped this off Saturday afternoon.
This was my granddad’s truck, and then my dad’s for a while. I’ve got so many good memories in this truck. When the cousins and I were little granddad would take us out for our birthdays. We would go get lunch wherever we wanted (McDonald’s) and pick out a present. I remember getting him to break his budget once for an electronic experiment kit from RadioShack. I’d like to think it spoke to him because it was right up his alley, he was probably just tired of hearing me whining!
We also used to pack a few kids in the front and go to our family cabin. We’d take out the john boat or he’d throw a few kids in the canoe and send us down the river. We’d find him at the next boat landing and head back to the cabin for spaghetti dinner.