Well, the work on the barn continues ... finally.
Bob spent two days crawling around the tin roof, pounding at least 3-5 lbs of roofing nails into the roof, pulling the old tin in place, replacing those that blew off, and in general making it much better. Before we could do the work on the roof, we had to improve the strength of the roof.
We cut 3/4 in plywood into 34 inch long by 11 inch tall flat triangles. By crawling on the ladder resting in the back of the pickup or resting on plywood on the hay, Bob was able to crawl high up in the peak and by using liquid nails, and 8 screws these pieces greatly strengthened the peak. In fact, when Bob was on the roof working on the tin, he commented it felt much more secure.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
New Blog Startup
I have had a link to a previous blog on the bottom of my e-mail signature for a long time, but have been very slack about posting to it. I attend a Writer's Critique Group in Porterville, and it is obvious from listening to the others, that I am remiss by not keeping up with a blog. So, I am going to make an effort to make regular entries on to this one.
I tried to get back into the old one, and because I am now using an iPad, and an iPhone, it was just easier to start all over. So ... here we go.
First, let me tell you a little about "Fire On Black Mountain." This is a boy-story, aimed at the later Elementary School, or Middle School grades. Billy Scott lives on a cattle ranch with his parents. They live in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range.
Billy's father wakes him in the middle of the night one August evening, to say, "Billy, wake up. There's a fire on Black Mountain."
Billy, very sleepy, rolls over squinting. "So?" He and his father have made many trips up and down the side of the mountain during the past few years, but an occasional lightning fire seldom burned more than a small patch.
"Billy, I just got a call from the head of the Forest Service, and he wanted me to lead a small group of fire fighters up the mountain before daylight."
Billy, now awake sits up abruptly. "But Dad. Your leg is broken. You can't ride."
His father, leaning on his crutches, just grins back at Billy.
"But .. Dad .. you don't mean .."
And Billy sets off on an exciting adventure, leading fire fighters in the dark to the fire.
This book has been read to the Writers Group. With a little more tweaking and editing, I am ready to pitch it to an agent.
Second, you know about my weekly column, "Daunt to Dillonwood," in the Porterville Recorder. Following the death of an old friend, and fellow columnist, Clinton Osborn, I bumped up my efforts from every other week to once a week. It appears every Wednesday on the Heritage Page.
I send out a copy of my column to out-of-town folk via e-mail. If you'd like to be on that list drop me a note and I'll be glad to include you. After you've seen one or two, or twenty, and you decide you want off, let me know and I can do that too.
Third, I took a picture of the local ground squirrel population sharing our old mare's morning pellets and grain. The picture sparked an idea, and I am in the process of building another book, this time using several of my pictures to illustrate and provide story line.
I tried to get back into the old one, and because I am now using an iPad, and an iPhone, it was just easier to start all over. So ... here we go.
First, let me tell you a little about "Fire On Black Mountain." This is a boy-story, aimed at the later Elementary School, or Middle School grades. Billy Scott lives on a cattle ranch with his parents. They live in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range.
Billy's father wakes him in the middle of the night one August evening, to say, "Billy, wake up. There's a fire on Black Mountain."
Billy, very sleepy, rolls over squinting. "So?" He and his father have made many trips up and down the side of the mountain during the past few years, but an occasional lightning fire seldom burned more than a small patch.
"Billy, I just got a call from the head of the Forest Service, and he wanted me to lead a small group of fire fighters up the mountain before daylight."
Billy, now awake sits up abruptly. "But Dad. Your leg is broken. You can't ride."
His father, leaning on his crutches, just grins back at Billy.
"But .. Dad .. you don't mean .."
And Billy sets off on an exciting adventure, leading fire fighters in the dark to the fire.
This book has been read to the Writers Group. With a little more tweaking and editing, I am ready to pitch it to an agent.
Second, you know about my weekly column, "Daunt to Dillonwood," in the Porterville Recorder. Following the death of an old friend, and fellow columnist, Clinton Osborn, I bumped up my efforts from every other week to once a week. It appears every Wednesday on the Heritage Page.
I send out a copy of my column to out-of-town folk via e-mail. If you'd like to be on that list drop me a note and I'll be glad to include you. After you've seen one or two, or twenty, and you decide you want off, let me know and I can do that too.
Third, I took a picture of the local ground squirrel population sharing our old mare's morning pellets and grain. The picture sparked an idea, and I am in the process of building another book, this time using several of my pictures to illustrate and provide story line.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)