Living Large In Our Little House

Dale is doing more with wood than stack­ing it these days

We had an inter­est­ing week­end at Our Little House.

Dale is get­ting into wood­work­ing, so we spent part of the week­end going to the Big Box hard­ware stores where he could find the tools he needed to start a project he’s been yearn­ing to do since we moved.

He’s wanted to build a util­ity table for the deck, one I could use as a pot­ting table and that we could also use when we’re cook­ing outdoors.

He received some money and gift cards for Christmas, so he pur­chased some wood­work­ing tools and went to work.

And he did an awe­some job, although he didn’t want me to take any pho­tos of it. He built it out of old pal­lets he had stored from our move, so it isn’t very pretty, but it is sturdy and functional.

A hobby for even­tual retire­ment? Definitely.

A poten­tial source of sec­ond income? If he con­tin­ues on this track, most def­i­nitely. I hope he main­tains his interest.

It was cer­tainly great see­ing him so con­tent work­ing in his garage on Sunday and then rush­ing home from work Monday night to get back at his table.

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You know how when a project or two is haunt­ing you and it dri­ves you crazy until you can get it complete?

This was how it was for both of us at Our Little House this past weekend.

Dale has been wait­ing since spring for the per­fect week­end to stain the Party Deck. We had an unusu­ally cool and wet spring fol­lowed by an ungodly hot sum­mer. We had per­fect weather this past week­end and time is run­ning out before it gets cold again.

I had been wait­ing for time, mostly, to orga­nize my office once again. I wrote pre­vi­ously about find­ing the per­fect lit­tle mail­box to put on The Belle Writer’s Studio, so mail wouldn’t be over­flow­ing on the table at the house.

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My dad, Frank Fivecoat, with my brother, Steve

Sunday is Father’s Day, a day to cel­e­brate our dads and thank them for being a part of our lives.

For the bet­ter part of my life, 30 years on July 21, Father’s Day has always been a con­stant reminder that my dad was no longer able to be a part of mine.

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It was Dale’s step­mom who clued me in last week that this com­ing Sunday, March 13, is the begin­ning of Daylight Savings Time.

“What? So early!?”

I could have sworn that it didn’t begin until April. I would have been right until 2007, when DST was extended from March to November.

I’m all for spring­ing into spring and leav­ing the win­ter behind us, but there are some dis­ad­van­tages to spring­ing forward:

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