When we first got the bright idea to build a shed in the far corner of the yard under the trees, it was originally slated to be something small.
Just big enough to store a ride-on lawn mower and a push mower.
Then something happened that always seems to happen when you start building these things.
It morphed into a building to store mowers, and weed eaters, and garden hand tools, and gas cans, and hoses and then one section to store plywood and 2x4s.
Our small storage shed instantly turned into a 12 x 16 storage shed.
We bought some used wood for cheap from one of our neighbors before she moved out of town, and that is what we used for our shed.
Which sounded like a fine idea before we started, but we spent a couple of weeks cutting some old beams into 2x4s to use for supports, and building a structure with wood that seemed upon closer inspection to have no straight sides at all.
LC invented new curse words along the way, but after a whole lot of work and frustration it is almost done.
The plastic siding that was on our greenhouse one morning was the new roof for the shed by that same afternoon.
It still needs doors, and a couple of shelves, and it still needs to be prettied up.
And I am reminded again of why I went to college. Because I hate manual labor...............
A view of the silos from the back yard.................
Our dog has learned a new game.
Kory has learned to jump our back fence, wander through town, hide under bushes when she realizes that we are looking for her, and terrorize local cats and chickens.
After a week of continually retrieving our dog, trying both positive and negative reinforcement, smoothing things over with our neighbors, catching her before she actually tore some unsuspecting critter in town to pieces or got herself injured by an outraged doe or buck, we decided (almost at the very same moment we were high fiving each other for successfully completing the shed) that we needed to build a fence.
Already tired after completing the shed LC headed to town to purchase fencing while I cleared the way in the yard.
A couple of days later we had fenced in both the front and the side, I was sunburned and both of us were totally wiped out.
The final indignity from our wayward pup occurred while we were putting the final post in the ground along the side.
We called her name and.........no Kory.
She had jumped a low spot in the back fence that was already here when we moved into the house.
LC drove in one direction, I drove in another direction, we passed each other a number of times until I eventually received the phone call from LC that he had her.
By the time I got back to the house LC had tied her to the trucks' spare wheel and our dog was hiding under our picnic table.
Which is where she silently sat for the next couple of hours, watching us as LC and I dejectedly finished our work.
Still disgusted with our dog we brought her bowl and water outside, walked back into the house and both fell asleep exhausted on the couches in the living room.
Two hours later I walked out to what will eventually be our sun room to check on Kory, and was startled to find her standing at the entrance to the green house barking hysterically.
Still attached to the spare wheel, she had dragged it across the yard, wanting very much to come back into the house.
I couldn't stay angry with her. She thought we had left her. She was afraid. I could see it in her face and hear it in her bark, and when I found her like that all I could do was drop to the ground and hug and reassure her.
We're going to have to fix the back and side fences that were already up when we moved here. They won't keep her in.
What is left of the poorly constructed green house after we had taken off the side panels to use for roofing material on the garden shed.
It'll be down by winter..............
The past couple of weeks have been such a blur of physical work that I am not really certain exactly when these pictures were taken.
One day last week I think.
On this day I walked through town with Kory, reached one of the two trails that led directly onto BLM land and set my puppy free to run.
We had had a lot of rain in a short period of time, and on this day the sky was struggling to finally clear.
The sun was valiantly fighting the battle for dominance and I knew that it would ultimately prevail.
It was late in the day, and although the sky was still mostly overcast the clouds no longer threatened rain.
The next day - and the next - and the next - all promised sunshine and warmth.
The world was finally beginning to clear, and the sky over mine and Korys head was beautiful.
After far too much dirty and frustrating work on a shed I relished being out on BLM.
The night was warm and calm, and I walked through green grass and tall weeds, enjoying the sight of of such lushness and the feel of it all under my feet.
Everything had been so dry and brown at this same time last year.
Locals are stunned at the rain. They tell us that it NEVER rains like it has.
It may be unusual and it may never happen again for another 20 years.
But THIS summer (that was dominated by rain and cool temperatures throughout the entire month of August) was a welcome and unexpected gift.
I'll take it.......................
We wandered in the rapidly fading daylight, me enjoying the silence of the night and her running and playing and investigating with her nose.
I watched Kory closely. Making sure that she would not suddenly turn and take off towards town without me (she didn't). Making sure that she remained safe and happy in her explorations (she was)................
One more walk on one more day................
This piece of farm machinery has been sitting silent and in exactly the same place for the year that we have been in Idaho.
I don't know how long before our arrival this equipment was laid to rest, but as I approached it yet again with my pup I wondered (yet again) how someone could simply leave such an expensive piece of equipment.
Abandoned to time and the elements in the middle of a field.
I don't understand the reasoning. Perhaps there is no reasoning.
But regardless, Kory loves to explore it and I love to take pictures of it.
It has great color, great lines.
Removed from its function it is simply a piece of art to me................
This early evening walk was different from the pictures above.
The wind was howling in that way that you hear only in the fall and winter.
Fall is coming, and (as with so many other people in the region) we are scrambling to get some things done before (seemingly overnight) winter arrives.
Yard shed - check. Fence - check. Greenhouse down - soon.
Wood to be split this weekend. Left over dry wood that was staged in different places around the yard in anticipation of projects, now needs to be cut up and stacked indoors.
Green wood (that has been sitting in a pile all summer) needs to be split and stacked outside in a place that we built specifically for that purpose.
We had intended to split it in the spring, but after expending so much energy getting it neither I nor LC could face the task of splitting and stacking. And so it sat in a pile beckoning to us all summer.
Tomorrow we'll start that task.
It'll all be great when its done - we'll have three years worth of wood.
I looked at LC a few days ago and said "We need to go camping".
I need to kayak and ride my bike and sit in the sun by the water.
When the work is done we'll go camping.
This picture shows the entire span of Atomic City with the Twin Buttes in the background................
I have no idea why I snapped this picture.
I suppose that it was the sheer randomness of it.
Or the sheer humor of it.
It's not everyday that you see a mushroom growing out of a cow pile................
LC and I were both wandering the desert with Kory in between chores that we have been so busy with recently.
LC has wondered out loud a number of times if this is where we are supposed to be.
Whether we should be further north or........someplace else.
We can wander completely alone where we are, on endless thousands of acres of wide open land.
Kory can run unencumbered.
With the dense forests and abundance of both bears and wolves further north, our pup could not have the freedom that she has now.
But having water and trees and mountains completely around us would never break my heart either.
Beyond that is the deeper question of............well, the original question.
Where are we supposed to be.
Two years ago I didn't have an answer to that question.
Two years later I still don't have an answer to that question.
But it also wouldn't break my heart to buy a very small piece of land further north and leave a camper on it....................
The Atomic City Bar.
So far it is the only business in town.
I counted the other day and there are 23 people who still live in this Tiny Tune Town.
Two are away long term on jobs out of state.
Six more will be leaving in a couple of months for the winter, heading to both Texas and Arizona.
Tiny Tune Town continues to get tinier. And tunier..................
We decided not to bring Maddy into our lives.
But we did help to find her a good home..............
In the great cities we see so little of the world, we drift into our minority. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities; people are not numerous enough. You must see the world there, perforce. Every man is himself a class; every hour carries its new challenge. When you pass the inn at the end of the village you leave your favourite whimsy behind you; for you will meet no one who can share it. We listen to eloquent speaking, read books and write them, settle all the affairs of the universe. The dumb village multitudes pass on unchanging; the feel of the spade in the hand is no different for all our talk: good seasons and bad follow each other as of old. The dumb multitudes are no more concerned with us than is the old horse peering through the rusty gate of the village pound. The ancient map-makers wrote across unexplored regions, 'Here are lions.' Across the villages of fishermen and turners of the earth, so different are these from us, we can write but one line that is certain, 'Here are ghosts.' ("Village Ghosts")............WB Yeats, The Celtic Twighlight: Faerie and Folklore