A Word to the Wise

A word to the wise...  The bigger the toy, the bigger the mess.

Allow me to introduce you to a big toy.

Much of our property has never been improved.  I wish I could say that means it's an oasis of virgin woods, wildflowers, and natural wonderland.

It is not.  It's a tangled mess of brushy cedar grounded by a layer of rock, peppered with prickly pear. 

Earlier this year we (and by we I mean Cabbage) found someone who wanted the biggest of the cedar trees.  That guy cut down a bunch of trees at no charge, and in exchange he took with him all the cedar he wanted.  This was quite the deal for both parties, because he usually pays for his cedar, and we would usually pay someone to clear our unwanted trees.

That deal now appears in the online dictionary under both symbiosis and mutually beneficial.

The downside was that the tree guy [not his real name] left the downed cedar he didn't want.  We knew that ahead of time, and it was fair enough.  But since then, we've had a lot of downed trees and brush everywhere on our place. 

It looked really pretty, let me assure you.  Just because of that, we were asked to put our house on the Tour of Homes.

All good things must end, though, and Cabbage was just able to wrangle some time with a friend's equipment (see above toy) and clear the majority of the cedar debris.  There are no words to express how very happy this made me.

I should have known better.

True, the pasture is looking great.  We couldn't even see through this area before- first because of scrubby growth, then because of dead limbs. 

But oh, the horrors of the driveway, scarred from the skid steer as it maneuvered. 

And while he was there, Cabbage got carried away with Extreme Makeover: Driveway Edition. The basketball hoop paid a dear price. 

Ok, I can live with that.  It hung out over the driveway and always imperiled our horse trailer, so it needed to be relocated.  Or destroyed.  Whatever.

I really think my husband lives for this kind of project.  He truly loves excuses to go out in public looking like he hasn't had a bath in a month.

I married a wannabe hobo.

Fletcher isn't at all sure about this dramatic chain of events...  He took refuge on top of a pickup.

Annie assessed the tracks carved into the grass.  Oh, wait.  That was me.  I assessed the tracks carved (forever) into the (little bit of) grass (we have).

But, to keep my eye on the prize, I'll now show you one side of the brush pile Cabbage made, with him standing in front for a sense of scale. 

I'm loving this view now.  This is still a big mess, but we're making progress.

I love the smell of progress in the morning.