No one uses the south entrance of our driveway, except Deb and me when we visit her cousin at the end of the road, and her cousin when he comes up to see us. Truly, that’s its only function.
Yes, it was employed when the shed was brought to its permanent location. It makes for convenient access to and from the homestead when we walk that way. The trees flanking the driveway approach frame a cool view of the valley.
But it’s another one of those spots here that nobody sees but us. And it’s yet another place where, over the last year or so, I stashed brush I cleared, trees I took down and branches I lopped.
It was last of our brushpiles. (I don’t count The Monster Pile near the well shed, which surely must be visible from space.) With everything else tidied up now, it practically begged us to address it.
This morning I took advantage of Deb’s cousin’s offer of his small utility trailer, replacing my Silverado for hauling brush. I towed it Home behind the Ranger, parked next to the pile and commenced loading.
The weather was perfect for the work. Winds had calmed considerably overnight, and temps were in the mid-30s — nothing like the upper 80s we had yesterday. It was slow going, but I heaped enough debris onto the trailer to justify a first trip to The Monster Pile.
Afterward, I gauged what remained to be picked up — about half, maybe a little more. I didn’t want to haul two more loads, though, so I had to find a way to finish in one. It looked absolutely ridiculous, but it stayed put for the ride to its destination.
This brought to a satisfying conclusion the long, labor-intensive project of bringing our surroundings into line with our vision. After today’s work, the area between the shed and the road is more open and appealing, the outcrops of ledge more present to the casual eye.
We have much more to do, of course. But this evening, for the first time in months, I can breathe.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB