Some Days Are More Overwhelming Than Others

Today I woke up around 9:00 a.m.

I slept pretty well last night, I think, but I didn't really feel like getting out of bed this morning.

Today started the way most days here do. No particular plans. No set direction. Just figuring out which way I want to go once I finally decide I'm ready to get moving.

Today, that took until about 11:00.

I think I was a little deflated after yesterday's discovery of the garbage dump.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how difficult it's going to be to clean up.

Most of the other trash we've dealt with has been relatively easy to remove, mostly because it was inside a building. Even the trash behind the bunkhouse isn't that bad because that area has never really become overgrown due to the tree cover.

But the garbage pile I discovered yesterday is different.

It's sitting in an open field where grass and weeds have been growing over it for 5, 10, 15 years or maybe even longer.

After pushing everything into a pile yesterday, I realized how much of the garbage is now underneath the dirt. Not because someone intentionally buried it, but because years of rain, snow, grass clippings, leaves, dirt, and everything else have slowly covered it.

Going through it, digging it out, and sorting everything seemed like one of the most daunting tasks I've come across here.

And I've come across a lot.

There are plenty of things that challenge me on this property, but I think everybody probably knows by now that one of the things I dislike doing most is digging.

And in my mind, I kept seeing myself having to dig.

Not even digging for something enjoyable, like planting trees or plants.

Digging to dig out garbage.

Before heading outside and deciding what I was going to do, I opened the door to let Wyatt out.

He ran outside, rolled around on the outdoor carpet, stretched, and smiled.

Yes.

Wyatt smiles.

He's a happy dog.

Unless I'm not playing with him.

If I'm not playing with him, he'll talk back like most cattle dogs do. He'll argue with me and do whatever he can to get my attention.

But this morning, Wyatt was happy.

I opened the door, he went outside, and he rolled around.

That lasted a few minutes.

At most.

Then there he was.

Giving me the cattle dog hard stare, trying to make me do something.

Sometimes I wish I could read his mind.

Other times I'm thankful I can't.

The day looked beautiful. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and I took the opportunity to just stand there and take a deep breath of the cool, crisp air.

It was only about 45 degrees, even at 11:00.

I decided to put the garbage behind me for a little while and tackle part of the water intrusion problem at the main house.

I believe the main house was built sometime in the 1980s, but it sits on top of a foundation from a house that was probably built in the 1880s.

The foundation is stacked stone.

Foundations aren't really intended to be waterproof on their own. A big part of keeping a basement dry is controlling the water outside through grading, drainage, French drains, and other methods.

With a stacked stone foundation, there isn't much stopping moisture from finding its way between the stones if water is allowed to collect around it.

I personally believe the previous owners intended to install French drains around both the main house and the bunkhouse.

Both buildings have some water intrusion issues. I don't believe either problem is major, but it appears the previous owners had already taken steps toward addressing them.

I say that because they had purchased perforated drainage pipe, the type that gets buried when installing a French drain.

I found rolls of it behind both the main house and the bunkhouse.

I've since moved it to the barn for future use, but the fact that it was here makes me think they knew there was a drainage issue and planned to address it.

One thing I've noticed is that the gutters on the main house drain directly onto the high side of the house.

That's also the side where water gets into the basement.

The downspouts aren't carrying the water away from the house or discharging it on the low side of the property, where gravity would naturally carry it away.

About two weeks ago, my partner and I bought another roll of corrugated pipe.

This time, non-perforated.

The perforated pipe is useful underground because it allows groundwater to enter the pipe and then be carried away. But if I use perforated pipe to carry water directly from a gutter, some of that water can simply drain back into the ground along the way.

Exactly what I'm trying to prevent.

So today I picked up the roll of non-perforated pipe from camp and brought it over to the main house.

As I was getting ready to install it, I noticed there was already tubing underneath some bluestone and coming out of the ground near the gutter.

For a moment I thought...

Oh my God.

They already did this.

It just came loose.

All I have to do is reconnect it.

Then I looked at the pipe.

Perforated.

That means rainwater coming out of the gutter and entering that pipe can start draining right back into the ground near the foundation.

That doesn't solve the problem.

It may actually make it worse.

I'm not sure why they used perforated pipe there, but as I mentioned yesterday, the previous owners seemed pretty handy.

They just didn't always do things the right way.

I ran the new non-perforated pipe along the side of the house and connected it to one of the gutter downspouts, completely bypassing the old pipe.

Then I used my multi-tool to cut an opening in the top of the pipe and dropped the downspout from the other corner into it.

Now both gutters feed into the same pipe, which carries the water around the back of the house and discharges it downhill.

It's not a 100% fix.

Maybe it's a 30% fix.

The rest isn't getting done this season.

Eventually, we'll need to trench around the high side of the house and install the perforated drainage pipe properly with gravel and, in some areas, drainage material. The goal will be to intercept the groundwater and carry it around the house instead of allowing it to reach the foundation.

But that's more than I'm doing today.

On my way over to work on the downspouts, I had stopped and picked up a cinder block.

Not because I needed it for this project.

I just make it a habit whenever I'm traveling back and forth across the property with the tractor to pick things up and move them somewhere useful.

My intention was to put the block with the other cinder blocks I've been collecting around the property and eventually store them near the workshop or barn.

Turns out I needed it.

Once I ran the drainage pipe around the side of the house and positioned it downhill, the end kept curling into the air because the pipe had been stored in a coil.

So I fed the end through the opening in the cinder block.

The block held the pipe down below the rest of the run, helping the water continue downhill and away from the house.

That's one of the great things about this property.

There are so many useful things lying around that can be reused.

It's just disappointing that there is also so much trash.

We've been working on this property for about six months now.

Every day I wake up and it's like Christmas for me.

Every day I'm excited about the next project.

It doesn't really matter what's going on. Every day there is something to do.

We've completed so many repairs and modifications.

We've also done things simply because we enjoy them, like planting the garden.

And frankly, I enjoy cutting the grass.

It's something I like doing as often as I can.

We've bought tools and equipment, and things are getting easier for us all the time.

We've emptied all of the trash from the bunkhouse.

We've emptied all of the trash from the workshop.

We've emptied all of the trash from the garage.

We've removed about 60% of the trash from the barn.

We've stacked a ton, literally maybe two tons, of metal scrap in the Quonset hut to eventually be sold.

We've removed about 60% of the trash from behind the bunkhouse.

And there is still so much we haven't touched.

We haven't cleaned out the little cabin by the workshop.

We haven't cleaned out the East Camp House.

We haven't cleaned out the workshop by East Camp.

We haven't cleaned out the log cabin by East Camp.

And we haven't cleaned out any of the debris and trash surrounding East Camp.

We knew what we were getting into.

We knew there was a lot of work.

We knew there was a lot of trash.

But I think finding an actual pile of garbage dumped in the field and realizing it had probably been sitting there for an extremely long time just overwhelmed me.

After connecting the downspouts and more or less finishing that project, with the exception of adding a screw to hold the pipe securely in place, I decided I wanted to remove some trash that I already knew was hiding in the weeds.

Not yesterday's weeds.

Different weeds.

On the other side of the stone wall near the main lawn, I found an old couch months ago.

I had left it there until I was ready to deal with it.

After finding the garbage dump yesterday, I decided today I wanted to get rid of something I knew I could get rid of.

So I took the tractor over and pushed the couch out of the weeds.

And wouldn't you know it...

There was more trash underneath it.

It wasn't a lot.

It wasn't another dump.

But there was more trash.

I made several trips with the tractor, pulling everything out, moving the trash around, and cleaning up the area.

And then it was done.

That spot is finished.

And honestly...

That made me feel better.

I headed back to camp to take a break and get something to drink before heading back out.

As usual, I found something else to relocate along the way.

This time it was cardboard from the garage door packaging that was sitting in the pavilion.

I brought it over to the Quonset hut, where I have more cardboard that will eventually be burned.

At this point, I decided the pile of wood sitting on the burn pile next to the workshop had gotten too big.

If I lit the entire thing at once, I ran the risk of the fire getting out of control.

So I pulled some wood off the top and lit the smaller pile.

As it burned down, I slowly added more wood, keeping the fire controlled.

While that burned, I decided to cut the grass.

I pulled out the lawn mower and managed to cut the entire main lawn as well as around the main house.

And for one of the first times, I was actually able to cut the grass for a second time without the mower breaking.

That felt good.

Until it didn't.

I slid off the side of the lane and got the mower high-centered.

I couldn't get myself back onto the road.

Luckily, the tractor was only a few feet away.

I grabbed it, pulled the mower back onto the lane, and that was that.

No damage.

Since I was already finished mowing anyway, I parked the mower in the workshop and went back to tending the fire.

The other day, while cleaning out part of the barn, I found three balls.

A tennis ball.

A baseball.

And a racquetball.

Today, while I was tending the fire, Wyatt started getting vocal.

He wanted me to play with him.

Again, anybody familiar with how stubborn cattle dogs can be knows they don't stop.

And they don't give up.

So I grabbed the three balls and started throwing them for Wyatt.

I don't know if it's a cattle dog thing, but he doesn't really fetch.

He'll chase the ball.

He'll stop it.

Then he'll look at you like...

I did it.

I hearded it.

I stopped it from running away.

My job here is done.

Having three balls worked a little better than having one.

I'd throw one and he'd chase it.

Then I'd throw the second one and he'd chase that.

Then the third.

Eventually, I started walking from one ball to another. While he chased one, I'd pick up another and throw it.

That went on for about 15 minutes.

It kept him entertained while I kept an eye on the fire.

Eventually, it started getting dark and I decided the fire was fine.

Truly, I hope it is.

Because Wyatt and I headed back to camp.

I gave him his kibble.

But apparently he hadn't received enough attention today.

He wanted more.

So I pulled out one of his engagement toys and scattered food in it.

And wouldn't you know it...

My brilliant cattle dog doesn't even try.

And I mean that in the most honest way possible.

It isn't difficult for him.

He casually moves one slot over at a time.

Eats the food.

Slides the next piece.

Eats the food.

Moves to the next one.

There is no challenge here.

When he finished eating, he started getting vocal with me again.

But it's time for me to make dinner.

Tonight I think I'm having some dumplings and maybe some chicken shumai.

We'll see what I decide once I actually look through the freezer.

One thing I do know...

I'm not sitting by the fire tonight.

I've had plenty of fire tending for one day.

Yesterday's garbage pile was still there when I woke up this morning.

It's still there tonight.

But another pile is gone.

A drainage problem is a little better.

The lawn is cut.

And another small piece of Memory Lane is cleaner than it was yesterday.

Maybe I don't have to tackle everything at once.

Maybe I just have to keep tackling one thing at a time.

~ Making Memories