Work Wednesday—Posting Accomplished!


Yay! Woohoo! The posts are in the ground! All 125 of them. Or so . . .

We finished those up on Tuesday and concreted the six-inchers. Next step: screwing in about 350 boards. No idea, at this time, how long this is going to take, but I’ll guesstimate about three days. We’ll see if I’m right . . .

After that, we’ll lop off the extra at the tops of the posts, and put in the gates. Actually, we have to build one gate. Had a little trouble with Mabel.

Mabel being one of our tape measures.

Jane is the other one. Well, her full name is “Jane, You Slut.” We can’t ever find her . . . not going to tell you Mabel’s full name. We seldom need to use it.

Now, lest anyone think that setting posts in an easy thing—this means you, Dr. Ralko—I can assure you that it is not:

Let’s assume you already measured your pasture or yard or whatever and lined it out with string or twine, so you know where you’re going with this fence. First, you drill down with an auger—any variety; we have a two-man, but for this we’re using the one on the tractor. Thank God.

“They” say you should go down two feet. And “they” are correct. Unless you live in the Ozarks, in which case it requires using that tractor auger 2-3 times, slamming the hole with an iron rock-breaker stick—there may be a technical name for this, but I don’t know what it is—many, many, many times, using a hand post-hole digger and a shovel, and probably adding water at some point.

This can take as little as five minutes—in which case there is much joy and celebration—or as long as 30 minutes with calls of, “Looks good enough to me!”

Sometimes, there is a pause when one considers if one can obtain dynamite or C4 on Amazon Prime . . .

One cannot. One cries a little.

Next, assuming the hole is dug, you have to pick up a 40-pound, 8-foot post and lower it into the hole. You make sure it’s level and shove back most of the dirt you just removed from said hole. You tamp it down and add more dirt and make sure it’s all tight.

Then you measure to the next post. We use an 8-foot 2×4, because our distance between posts is, well, eight feet. Rinse and repeat, 125 times. Or so.

This is a full week: while the aforementioned concrete cures, we’ll be tilling the manure into the garden—got some from the neighbor last week—and (gulp) putting up the greenhouse. An all-day project if there ever was one.

And I might be too optimistic about that . . .

So you may or may not get pics of that greenhouse next week.

 

 

Prep Monday—Final Countdown


No, not that one! Last week until the election . . .

Did you follow directions last week? No? Well, you still have time!

See, I’m not paranoid or wishing for SHTF, most preppers aren’t—with some exceptions, particularly the ones who make “good TV.” But, if something happens, well . . .

Personally, I’m leaning toward a big issue with the election itself, although it’s hard to tell if that’s specific to this particular year or if it’s every presidential election and we just don’t remember the acrimony, the mud-slinging, the legal issues. Et cetera.

I think every four years we tend to forget a bit, to let it go. Then, when the season rolls around again, we not only remember, we dig up more dirt, sometimes going back several terms or decades.

It doesn’t matter. Social media is kind of an evil, ancient curse, in spite of its newness. You think you’re getting something good, and some of it is, or it is for a time, and then BAM. You’re screwed.

Point is that you better be ready for just about anything. If you live in an earthquake zone, you have a kit and plan, right? Flood area? Tornado Alley? Sure, you do.

This isn’t anything different.

We all know, historically if not personally, how the “I’m from the government and I’m here to help” works, amiright?

So when you shop this week, add some extra items, things you absolutely can’t do without and things you can’t make yourself. You’ll feel a lot better.

And be sure to vote. Confession: I skipped one year, ONE year, and wasn’t happy with the outcome. No, my vote didn’t matter by itself, but what if there’d been many people who’d planned to vote as I would have?

You never know.

And you never know when some kind of emergency will require you to be a lot more self-sufficient.