More Operator Error

Poor Bessie.  I'm thinking she's getting fed up with me.

Everything started out fine.  The previous evening, Pam made a fantastic salmon grilled on a cedar plank served over a bed of lettuce and salad fixings.  I usually don't post about what we've eaten because, quite honestly, I think it's pretty lame when people blog about their lunch or any other meal or snack.  But this is different.   See?

Yes.  Next to the candle is a paper plate with three dog bones.  Only in Bleecker.

And then yesterday morning I saved this butterfly from inside our screen house and set him free.  Surely good karma

So off we went to our land to resume the process of hauling logs from where the loggers left them to our log pile.  My next door neighbor and father-in-law Earl astutely observed that the guys coming with the bulldozer could just push them wherever we wanted them.   Sure, but at $1500 a day, do I want bulldozer guy pushing logs around?   I want him in and out as quickly as possible.

We breaked for lunch and I walked up to the road to the car to get my camera.  When I turned around, this was my view.  I love this road.

This is the north side of our cleared property.  The Unabomber cabin will go on the knoll to the left.

Looking east.  Where the shadow is will be a small pond.  Beyond will be Pam's gardens and my fields.

Again, pond in the shadow on the left.  The barn will go on the knoll just to the right of the tree on the left.  Pam's got it all figured out in her mind.  

Time to get back to work! We were doing good. I'd back Bessie the Tractor down to where Pam had readied a log or two with chains. She'd connect the chains and I'd drag the logs up to the log pile. If they were small enough, I'd toss them onto the pile. If too large, I'd move them with the bucket on the tractor, pushing and lifting them onto the pile.

I'm getting pretty good with this tractor, if I do say so myself.

Pam needed to move some brush so I could get to some logs.  usually, she has me haul them off someplace by chain. That's time consuming, and so I figured that if I could pile logs with the bucket, surely a pile of brush would be easy.   It was going fine for about two seconds, at which time the left front tire fell into a hole and Bessie was stuck.  Not only was she stuck, but she stalled and refused to start again, as if to say "Go get someone who knows what they're doing, you hillbilly."

I'm not a hillbilly.  I'm an Adirondack American.

Ah well, it was time for a victory beer anyway.

Later, we hied ourselves off to my favorite toy store, Tractor Supply, where we bought a small 14" chainsaw for limbing the trees.  That will make things neater and faster, and I don't care if bulldozer guy buries limbs.

Today the phone guy is coming to install our telephone, sometime between 8 and 5.  Seriously?  They can't pin it down to morning or afternoon?   Pam will wait of the phone guy.  Rain is forecast for tomorrow so I'll be single handing it.  Much of that time may be spent coaxing Bessie out of the hole.