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March 8, 2010


I've spent this past week pulling up bricks from the garage floor.

I love the pattern. The bricks are lined up straight for 8 rows, then there is a row 3 bricks deep that runs across. The very first row has textured bricks. There are a few more of those scattered throughout the floor.

Before we moved the milkstand into the garage, I doubt I'd been more than four feet inside the door. It was dark and creepy in there. I've always imagined that there was a snake or a skunk or something equally as nasty in there.

When we lost the roof off the old barn, we cleaned out the front of one of the garage bays and put my milkstand in there. After it was cleaned out, and now that the roof is being removed and it's lighter in there, it isn't so bad.

I can only put fourteen bricks at a time in our old rickety wheelbarrow and wheel it out to the yard, where I stack them neatly because I am, I admit, OCD.

I also admit to being afraid that I might run into the maker-of-tunnels and the eater-of-acorns-but-leave-the-caps - in other words, I think there have been rats in there at one time or another. Hopefully, it wasn't recently. *Something* was certainly living under those bricks.

As the old drywall is being removed, we're finding hidden secrets: doorways and windows that were boarded over.

After four days of work, I've managed to pull the bricks out of 1/4 of the garage. Sure seems like I should have made more progress than that. You know what hurts the most? Not my back or my arms or my legs.... no, what hurts are my feet.

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