Making Room for What Comes Next

This morning started the same way many mornings do at Memory Lane.

I rolled over, opened the shade, and immediately spotted a tiny female hummingbird at the feeder.

I wasn't in bed long enough to see any of the males, but after doing a little reading, I learned that this time of year the males tend to become territorial as they focus on breeding. The female I've been seeing the last few days is likely nesting nearby and either preparing to lay eggs or already tending a nest.

That would explain why she never seems to wander very far.

Before I got out of bed, I heard another familiar sound.

The garbage truck.

A few days ago, I mentioned the large pile of trash that wouldn't fit inside the garbage cans. My prediction was that they wouldn't take it.

Well, if your vote was that they would take everything, including the overflow, congratulations.

You were right.

I was wrong.

They took it all.

It may not sound exciting, but after cleaning up years of accumulated junk around the property, seeing that pile disappear felt like real progress.

Eventually I climbed out of bed and opened the door for Wyatt.

One thing I've realized lately is that I wasn't sure we'd ever get to this point.

When I first brought Wyatt to the farm, one of my biggest concerns was whether he'd wander off.

Now I can open the door and let him outside without worrying.

The funny thing is he usually doesn't even want to go out without me.

Most mornings he'll step outside, look around, and then simply wait for me to join him before he does anything.

It's reassuring, but it also means I can't be lazy.

If Wyatt is waiting on me, I have to get dressed and start my day too.

After that, I checked on the seeds in the garden.

Some are growing.

Some are not.

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure what happened.

Maybe they're just slow.

Maybe the heavy rain that hit shortly after planting drowned some of them.

Maybe the seeds weren't very good to begin with.

For now, all I can do is keep watering them and hope they take off.

If not, next year we may need to start seedlings before we leave Florida and bring established plants north with us.

With the garden checked, it was time to get to work.

Today's goal was simple.

Start preparing the bunkhouse for demolition work.

Before I can remove cabinets, flooring, and begin some of the larger projects, I need to clear our belongings out of the way.

Most of the previous owner's belongings that remain are things we've already decided to keep, so I wasn't dealing with those today.

Instead, I focused on moving our tools, supplies, and equipment from the bunkhouse to the main house.

I loaded up the truck and headed over.

Of course, before I could move anything into the main house, I had to make room for it.

That meant cleaning and organizing.

I sorted through our things, reorganized several areas, gathered up trash, and hauled everything out.

Only then could I start bringing in the supplies from the bunkhouse and organizing them where they belonged.

It wasn't glamorous work, but it was productive work.

Sometimes progress isn't tearing something apart.

Sometimes progress is simply making room for what's coming next.

By that point it was time to head into town.

I needed a few items from the store.

I needed to do laundry again.

Yes, I know I just did laundry a few days ago.

The problem is that the work lately has been dirty.

Really dirty.

I'd rather wash those clothes immediately than have them sitting around in a hamper inside the house.

Most importantly, I needed gasoline for all the equipment.

One thing I've learned is that what should be a quick trip to town somehow turns into half a day.

Between shopping, laundry, grabbing lunch, and travel time, a simple errand run can easily consume three or four hours.

Before you know it, the afternoon is gone.

When I finally made it back to the farm, I wasn't ready to call it a day.

I loaded up a second truckload from the bunkhouse and started moving more supplies over to the main house.

While loading the truck, I noticed Wyatt was nowhere to be found.

I called his name.

Nothing.

Then suddenly his head popped up from the back seat of the truck.

Apparently he had decided he was done supervising from the ground.

The truck door was open.

I had been walking back and forth.

At some point he climbed inside, laid down, and decided he was ready whenever I was.

What a good dog.

After unloading at the main house, I still had energy left, so I decided to keep going.

Next stop was the pavilion.

I cleaned up trash, gathered loose plastic, and bagged everything for disposal.

The cardboard went into the burn pile for a future campfire.

While I was cleaning, a curious little chipmunk kept me company.

We have quite a few chipmunks around the farm, and they're always entertaining to watch as they dart between the stone walls.

For a while I had a little helper.

We'll call him Chip.

After hanging out with Chip the Chipmunk, I decided to fire up the mower and touch up a few areas that had lifted back up after yesterday's mowing.

Nothing major.

Just a few spots that looked like they could use another pass.

Once that was finished, I headed over to the garden to water everything.

The plants are still hanging in there.

The seeds are still trying.

And while I was watering, I discovered something new about Wyatt.

Apparently he loves chasing the stream of water coming out of the hose.

What started as watering the garden quickly turned into entertainment.

He chased the water.

Bit at the stream.

Jumped around.

And generally made a game out of the whole thing.

It's funny how sometimes the simplest things can keep a dog entertained.

By the time I finished, the day had finally caught up with me.

Oddly enough, I wasn't hungry.

No campfire dinner tonight.

No big meal.

Just a quiet evening at the farm.

The bunkhouse is a little emptier.

The main house is a little fuller.

The garbage is gone.

The garden is watered.

And tomorrow we'll do it all over again.

~ Making Memories