Our land. Well, there are already a lot of stories we could tell about this land that we've had for only a few months now. There have already been blood, sweat, and tears--but that's what it's all about, isn't it? Making memories. Making a life. Making a home.
A couple of weeks ago we faced the insurmountable task of ditching over 2000 feet of rock-saturated soil, 48 inches deep, for the electric company to lay our electrical line.
Sure, we could have had the electrical company do it, but what fun would that be?
The first time we looked at this property we actually passed it up for this very reason, but eventually we decided that once this difficult part was finished, it would be the quintessential mountain ranch we've dreamed of our entire lives.
Although my detail-oriented husband had called before we began to get the existing utility lines marked, they unfortunately missed one, and thus began our already-daunting task: by severing our neighbor's phone line.
Good thing our neighbor already met and liked us, or this might have severed ties with him for good, no pun intended.
Then, while my daughter and I were working across the property, I got a call from hubby. He needed some assistance. That's all he told me. That and "when you get here, don't laugh."
After we got the trencher un-stuck, our day seemed to get un-stuck as well. Hubby persisted through all the rough spots and 16 hours later, the end was in sight!
But then when he was almost done, something weird happened. It hailed, but it wasn't hail. We were pummeled by tiny snow balls. I kid you not.
I mean, you can't make that up. At least I can't. I'm not that creative.
TWO THOUSAND feet, in mountain soil, through shale, through the weirdest hail storm we've ever seen, through a few mishaps, and through an unmarked telephone line. He made it.
This only furthers my suspicions that I'm married to the real Superman.
Life's a ditch. Dig it,