Morning all, The boys are sleeping like rocks. Today, Young Master Duke and I will be spending the day in the back, working. I need my table set up, and have to find the keys to the lock holding the bugger down.
My Husband locked it down last fall, in order to keep the weather from taking it to the Canadian or the Iowa border and flinging it. I admit, Iowa is much closer than Canada, but the wind here is not something to faff around with.
Setting up the patio is quite a bit different than setting up a camping area. It includes my camping area, of course, but camping, and using a patio are two different critters.
Let’s start witht he front patio. We have an older wooden patio table out there, and a couple of chairs. In the evening, it’s lovely to sit out there in the shade. It’s concrete, and we can relax with a small lantern, and enjoy the evening. I have made lots of tea and popcorn out there, just as a matter of principle.
When visitors come, we relax out there, and enjoy our time. There’s an umbrella for daytime shade as well. I spent quite a bit of time out there last fall, and would love to have a gazebo tent set up out there. It will come.
The stove being moved to the back means that the wood pile will go back there. I am hoping to get the chimney set up out there, and start having wood stove cooking again.
Uh oh, the Hubsy is awake. That means that chaos starts shortly. Snort.
I am thinking that on the front patio is where I would sit to stitch by the way. I would love to, if my treadle had bigger wheels, move her out there to work and stitch. The bright sun is better than any electric lamp to see with.
The problem? She is a big beast. I don’t have any of them converted to table use yet. Sighs. Oh well. Life goes on.
I need to ruminate on this a bit more, I originally wanted to set up a stitching area with a tent. However, none of my tents are designed to really protect from the elements. They just postpone the ick factor.
I will keep plotting and scheming.
Please take care of yourselves, hugs Huggage from Minnesota. Land of a zillion skeeters. -L