There's a hole in the ground Dear Liza Dear Liza

Just wanted to show you sneak peak of what I have to deal with around here these days.  Believe me I am not complaining, but man oh man lets just say having the laundry folded and put away, and a clean house are a thing of Christmas past and present.

There's a hole in the ground with no green grass growing round and round.

I am able to report no dead things were found during the "Big Dig."  Sorry, but it is probably for the best.  Lest we have a Poltergeist situation, and have to bring in the big guns up from the Springs to deal with an old Indian or any animal burial ground for that matter.  Still not sure what went through there.  It could have been an old well, leach field etc. ????  I am just glad it is done.  

Let's just say there were times when they came really close to the house.

Really Really Close!

And of course as soon as you disturb said ground, you will summon and awaken the weather Gods and it will snow.

And we all know what snow turns into when it melts...........

Mud mud and more mud.  Only about 1/3 of a big ass pile of dirt.

Any one need dirt?  We got plenty.

The blue hose is our temporary water line.  Water now tastes like a plastic hose and the pressure wasn't what it used to be, but I am told it is still better then most folks have in town.  See that tiny clay colored hole in the center of the back wall?  Yeah, we found snakes in there.  Alive and pissed because Spring just came early for their hibernation spot.  

See that other clay colored tiny spot down next to Dave?  That's Rusty.  He went ripshitzing around the corner today to chase some bikers and lost 1 leg and almost the rest of him down the side of the wall.  This picture was taken before they finished digging and there was still a way out.  Anyone want to take bets who falls in first?  Rusty, India, Me?

Building materials arrived and are everywhere.

And in the midst of building, the daily operations are still transpiring as usual.  Why we didn't start this last August is beyond me.

We have bitchy spoiled chickens who now demand (very loudly I might add,) to eat hand steeped oats and barley.  Or as my good friend who brews the beer, calls them.  Los Pollos Borrachos.  The drunk chickens.  It isn't fermented, but don't tell them that.  We'll just call it the placebo effect.

Yup...... damn bagel still there.

And to close, we have a fine example of a Dipshit Dingo Dog who doesn't have any boundaries.  Whatsoever.  He has come to the realization that if he sits on Dave's desk that he might be able see out the window.  Homeboy is still too short.  So he just sits there and barks anyway.  At the wall......

Rusty - "You talkin' to me?" *Said with best De Niro Guido accent.*

Rusty - "Are ya feelin' lucky, punk?"  "Go ahead, make my day!"  *Said with best Clint Eastwood accent.*

 
Me - "Get off the damn desk and let me get back to work!"

Adios Muchachos.