Progress

How does one measure progress when the job is so huge? Well, in little chunks of course. Sometimes those chunks are measured in seeing the bin piled high with junk that the other people just didn't bother to remove (read a little frown here). Sometimes, the chunks are the stacks of morning glory on the compost pile - collected from here there and everywhere on the property. Sometimes it's the smoothed out parking space which this morning, was a jumble of fencing and hay, and dirt. Sometimes it's the load of drywall piled on the trailer, ready to be taken away.
Yes, we are making progress. Although the picture looks like a Monet painting, it was taken after dusk, on our way to celebrating the progress we made today on "The Pokeaway". A day of creating more problems than we solved. A day of meeting new neighbours, and welcoming friends who came by with Timmie's reinforcements, to take a look at the 'before before before'. A day which started leisurely, and ended with us smelling like a combination of campfire, drywall dust, and fresh air. And a day, which ended with all digits in tact - and except for the gash on Grampa's head from a rogue crow bar, injury-free. Praise the Lord, and Pass the Ammunition (and Hydrogen Peroxide).