Thursday, November 6, 2014

Sometimes There's Just No Tellin'

what's happening here on the Farm. (Yes. That is is a 10ml beaker. I have hundreds of them!)
Take this evening, for example. I went to lock up the Jager Haus (formerly known as as the 'Bunk House'

which is still not  yet put together properly)
and I came upon this:

What the H-E-Double Toothpicks is this sitting on the table that is the staging area for the 

bar Refurbishment?

It's Western Cedar. We-- that' s Daughter C and I (!) -- have been breathing paint stripper for months. I've rehabilitated an ancient Craftsman belt sander which works like a charm. It's-- the bar, not the sander-- almost ready to move inside and assume it's place under the bar top (see photo above- look for the orange drill, place bar under bar top) which, I might add, I've stripped and sanded AND stained.
Where was I? 

No Tellin'.



"Yes, Missy?"

"What aren't you telling?"

"Oh, Missy! You silly. There's no tellin' what I'm not tellin'!" 


  1. Looks very interesting! Did you get rain? We didn't get a drop.

  2. Yes. Interesting. And no. Not hardly anything that last. A smidge this afternoon. It's dry. All that cotton dust is making me sneeze.


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