Pardon the lateness of this, my fifth day of posting on the wonder that is my husband — blame it on the heat, the sun, and the accident up the road that knocked out our power for the past few hours. My husband did yell in glee, however, when the rotary phone rang in the kitchen.
For the next couple of days I plan to highlight some of the improvements that my husband has helped to bring to this, his family farm. The first has to do with this sketch of the original homestead:
About twelve years ago, before Xandy moved back to the farm, he helped to put our little place on the Maine Historic Registry. Check out our listing here.
If you ask him, he’ll tell you that he went through the process to open up some grant possibilities for the farm. If you ask ME I’ll tell you that he went through the process due in part to his sense of tradition and respect of the past. Because of him, this place will live on for generations to come.
On this, the fourth day of not making fun of my husband, I thought I’d showcase a couple of the improvements that he has brought to our old farmhouse. As a side note, I have to give thanks to my father-in-law Mark as well, as he is always there to lend a hand. I know that if blogging had been around when my In-Laws first moved to the farm, my mother-in-law Connie would have had plenty of her own quirky farm stories to share.
So the first of the home improvements that I would like to highlight is that of our bathroom. First, Xandy built doors for all of the cabinets:
The most impressive improvement thus far is the floor:
The sawmill is, unfortunately for Xandy’s projects, not functioning right now. I am not too upset that it is not in working order, however, as Xandy and his father are, I believe, the only two Brown men who have worked the farm who still have all of their fingers.
Speaking of almost losing body parts, check out our new concrete lined basement:
Xandy helped to spread this concrete wearing SHORTS and rubber boots. Later that night, as he rifled through the cabinets in bathroom, I heard a, “Honey, do we have any Bacitracin?” and panicked. Xandy NEVER asks for medicine. He proceeded to lift the Dickies he later put on to show me the most horrific chemical burns on his legs that I have ever seen.
“I was wondering why my legs itched so much,” he said.
After a quick Google search, I came up with a concoction of white vinegar and water to neutralize the reaction. Vinegar — on red, oozing burns — let’s just say long pants will now always be worn during concrete spreading.