My parents came out to visit over the Labor day week. They spent some time with my sister, her husband and their kids. We took them to the Pioneer museum in Provo.
(as an aside I think some kids may be getting some pioneer hats for Christmas.)
We tried to just relax with Grandma and Grandpa around. But Grandma is good at pulling weeds and my garden is getting a little over grown. And Grandpa is good fixing things, and I complained about the barn doors again. So we may have spent some time fixing barn doors.
I feel like barn doors have been a thorn in my side since we moved here. I just can’t get them right, and some of that came from the guy who installed doors and thought he was smarter than me. Well, Mr. Smarty-pants, that door that you installed that opens to the out side has ripped out of its hinges. Because WIND. And goats. Who lives here? THAT’S ME. And I want my doors to open to the INSIDE of the barn.
Grandpa gets me.
See this door? It opens from the outside into the barn. It now opens to the inside to sweep a goat or chicken out of the way.
See this door? It opens from the barn to the pasture. It now opens to the inside too. Now you can brace the door and it doesn’t blow around in the wind. Now it stays closed so that you can separate the baby goat from the milking mamas, because apparently he’s been helping himself to an all you can eat milk buffet.
See this door? Fueled by my parent’s ‘can do’ spirit, I installed it after they left.
It goes from the barn area to the milking area. Now you don’t have to go outside in the cold or chase a girl goat who wants to get close to the boys. I have had the door kicking around for a few months but wasn’t sure how to install it because it was too tall. I was going to cut out some of the wall, but my mom sagely said ‘It’s probably easier to cut the door than it is to cut the wall.’ DING.