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Bull Headed Can Be Good-Sometimes.

Most of you know, Wranglers can build, fix, cobble together, and design almost anything.

A few months ago, he had a vision.

Some of his visions, tend to worry me.  And this one fell into that category.

I just wasn’t sure.

I have difficulty seeing things that just aren’t there.

He could see it.   Plain as day.

Not me.

Couldn’t see a thing.

Nada.

Honestly, I have to say, once he wants to do something, well, um….let’s just say… he does it.

He’s kinda “bull headed” that way.

Now, me… I have to worry.

And fret.

 Ponder the pros and cons.

And look things up on the internet.  (Ha!  That rhymes.  Fret/internet.) Never mind.

And look at the bank balance.

And walk around from room to room, trying to remember just what it is I am fretting about.

But not Wranglers.  He gets a plan, forges ahead, and gets things done.

But, for some reason, he waits till I am out of the house.  Hmmm.

One day, I came home from work to find this.

I know he has a vision, but I’m not seeing it.

Still not seeing it.

Then, help arrived.

My father-in-law from Oklahoma and our teenager really helped speed things along.
As you can see, Wranglers has taken on the position of Project Supervisor.

Maybe….now…I….am…starting… to…see…. something….hmmm.

Now I see IT, and ME LIKEY!

Remember the drab pictures I posted from the other sides of our house?  This back yard facing the south, is my only salvation.  Blue grass and a sprinkler system work quite well together.  However, we use the sprinkler system sparingly.  You see, we know what it feels like to turn on the faucet to brush your teeth, and no water comes out.  And we know the feeling of being in the shower, getting all soaped up and…the water stops coming.  But that’s another story, for another day.

We sit out here every morning and drink coffee before work, then again every evening.  But we don’t drink coffee in the evening.  It’s too hot here to drink coffee in the evening.  Thought I should clarify that.

The fireplace in the middle is one of my favorite things.  He ran a gas line to it.  Presto.  Instant fire.  And I don’t smell like I have been to a keg party out at the sand pit.  Brilliant.   (Of course, I have never been to a keg party out at the sand pit.)  At least not since I graduated high school.

Linking up to Funky Junk

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