I'd certainly had a magnificent Monday morning up at the farm by taking a waterfall tour along the Grasse River (see previous posts). By the time I was done seeing the waterfalls, it was past noon. I was hungry and anxious to see what the contractors were doing on the barn reconstruction. The temperatures that day in March were near 80 degrees. So I drove home and took care of all the dogs. Then I put them in their outdoor run (along with the tenants' dog) and got to work myself. I drove out across the north hay field to the stone wall to begin collecting old tires left there by the former owners:
Those old tires (and a cow stanchion) had been there so long that Birches had grown up inside them. I had to leave those where they were:
There were also a lot of plastic bags and other windblown debris caught on the stone wall and plants, probably a result of tearing down the shed full of garbage. I began collecting that into garbage bags also:
My little car could carry two rows of old tires, either three or four in a row. The tires were mostly still on the iron hubs, filled with water and encrusted with mud and grass roots. They were heavy and messy. Each time my car was full I drove back to the barn and carried (or rolled) them inside:
The contractors, meanwhile, were making amazing progress on the barn reconstruction:
That old barn is a magnificent structure and was beginning to once again look as impressive as it did when it was built so many years ago:
The contractors were putting up sheathing on the south wall to add structural strength and prevent any further wind damage:
I made many trips across the hay field hauling old tires back to the barn. Then I stopped to let the dogs back inside the house for a short break. We all had a cool drink and a rest:
And then I resumed my work. The contractor said he'd take the old tires, so I hauled all 47 of them back out of the barn (where I'd just put them!), rolling them over to the debris from the shed demolition in which even more old tires were buried:
I talked to the neighbor and offered to let him cut down all the maple trees in the yard near my house. They'd make good fire wood for him and I'd not have to worry about them growing into dangerous, house threatening giants like the ones I recently paid a tree service to take down. We walked around the yard together and I tagged all the maples with yellow ribbon:
Toward the end of the day when the contractors had gone home, I snapped a photo of the barn. It was really beginning to look good. I was excited:
The dogs had spent the morning hiking and exploring near waterfalls and all afternoon playing in their fenced yard with the tenants's dog and barking at the contractors. They'd be plenty tired at bed time and so would I:
