OK, from way back ’round Christmas and New Year, when we we able to get back into our mountain cabin (after a great big fire and rebuild), I been gettin’ emails with questions such as "do you have electricity?" "Running water?" "Plumbing?" Ah’right, got some pics for ya.
(BTW, I did blog this back at the New Year.)
We moved back in on December 23, 2004. Here’s a shot of the "great room" on the 24th, complete with Christmas decs left by the previous owner (who left nearly everything, but that’s a different story). There’s dad & mom, waiting (impatiently) for more family to arrive for the holiday.
Of course, mom wouldn’t be mom without preparing more food than we could eat for both Christmas and the New Year. For the discriminating, yes, those are hickory cabinets and the counter tops are hard-wood, 2"-thick cutting board. I encourage people to use them by taking a meat cleaver and making indiscriminate chopping marks randomly. Formica is a curse.
Here’s a shot of the cabin a couple of moths later from the top of the stars.
Advance to this last weekend. The cabin sits on 1/3 acre, and it has not been controlled. So, this last weekend I exercised some control over nature. You know, It’s downright remarkable what one guy with a sore back can do in two hours with a 14" chainsaw. Simply remarkable. Oh, and BTW, these pics represent only 1/2 of the property. I laid to rest dozens of other trees ’round the back and other side.
Here’s a shot of the [now-visible-from-the-street] side and front of the place.
Well, we got home last night, and woke this morning to strange knocking noises on one of the kitchen windows. I obtained photographic evidence of the perpetrator (see below). Turns out a bunch left the nest this morning. There must have been four or five. Last year, when she built the nest in the corner, at the apex of where the rain-gutter down-comer joins to the siding, I debated about whether to remove it. It’s right next to the bedroom sliding glass door, and I thought it might be noisy. Glad I didn’t. The chicks weren’t as active last year, and in fact, we never noticed they left the nest at all. We’ll, she must have bread with a real-man-bird this year, ’cause these guys were all over. The world was their playground.