Thanks, Bro

Two summers ago my brother and sister-in-law came to visit. He brought me a surprise, a copper trellis he'd made himself (who knew?) The trellis sits this year at the north end of the porch distracting our view from the railings-from-hell that won't take a paint finish. Our hummingbird feeder hangs from the porch soffit just above it. And this year's crop of hummers have decided that the trellis is the perfect place to rest between feedings. It's a great view out of the dining room window, for sure.

Yesterday we decided to start putting together a commercial hoop shelter for all the farm equipment. Some starts and stops (I read instructions, he doesn't; and sometimes the instructions aren't very helpful and/or are downright misleading); then we got to the part that said "Lean the end rail against something permanent, such as a fence or tree, that is close to where the building will go." Friends, we have no fences. We have no trees. We finally pulled up the old S-10 pickup and used that to "lean" against. Himself is going off to Menard's tonight to buy an articulated ladder so we can get the cover on when the structure is done. Friend and sister C2 said, "Why doesn't he just stop by on the way home from work and get mine?" But who am I to stand between him and ladder lust?

All I know is, kneeling and bending to bolt together all those pieces of tubular steel made me feel every minute of my age, and maybe even older than that. It's a different type of ache than the usual - there's a mild glow of satisfaction to it, that at least I did something to get this way ...