OMG, part 1 !

I'm as shocked as you are!

This is going to get weird so hold on tight. Okay, I have a few tons of junk, I mean literally junk, scrap, weird parts, of stuff nobody else thinks I should keep. I have a lot of junk. So much in fact, that it keeps me from getting to the things I need to use, to get my projects done. I realize it's an issue. But I don't think it is a "problem" I prefer to view it as a lack of organizational opportunities. Basically, I need shelving. That's the real issue here, shelving, I will, on occasion on this little journey, refer back to this point, as it may become lost in the shuffle. My lovely wife "of 40 years now" realized there was a day coming up when the younger, and more able bodied members of the family might be available to help with a concrete job. To have SHELVES, one needs a floor, to support them. Particularly if they are going to be burdened with tons of valuable junk. So I needed a floor of concrete, poured in a building, worthy of protecting my valuable junk. My son has been working construction for years, and has taken advantage of the near unlimited space here, to recycle much of what would have otherwise become scrap, or gone to a landfill, for no other reason than it costs too much to store, and warehouse, and redistribute, mostly materials from work sites. A tremendous waste in my opinion, and I am firmly in favor of being part of such a serious recycling effort. So one of the recycled items that has ended up here is a set of medium duty commercial shelves, that if put to use could really help with my attempt to finally get my junk organized. Mainly because wait till you see what I can do with it! But that is going to be a future page. Back to the shelving. So to have shelving I had to clear out a building that was already housing tons of "good stuff" but not in an efficient manner, It was basically piled as high as it could go without falling over, mostly, I mean, okay some fell over, and it made it really hard to navigate through the rest of the building and impossible to move anything of any significant weight because I am, as you may remember, not to strong anymore, or as I hate to refer to it, OLD AND CRIPPLLED. The shelves were not taken down with the greatest of care and had in fact been occasionally bumped by tow motors or other such units, and were pretty beat up around the base of the legs. Now they were also too tall, so needed to be cut off, here's where the the right way, the wrong way, and the NaDa Farm way, intersect. The easy way, says cut off the tops and be done with it (the wrong way) The right way says straighten everything, and cut off the tops, otherwise they are no longer factory engineered for safety. the NaDa Farm way says, cut off the bent bottoms, re weld them, and make them the right height in the process, more work but better result. And I like to weld so, I did it the NaDa Farm way.

 

 

Here you see the chop saw ready to shorten the leg and eliminate the bent and twisted parts of the shelf uprights, behind it, you see the pile at the left of the shortened uprights. And at the right, the bent and twisted, too tall, parts removed. YOU may also notice this operation is being accomplished on an apron in front of the roll up door on the garage building. It wasn't here a couple days ago, so keep that in mind as we proceed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are the feet I cut off the uprights and the bottom support bars. I re welded them in place and ended up with nearly straight secure bases for the shelving units. Which I deem to be a good thing at this point, and worth the effort, if I am going to place tons of good junk on them. This took the better part of three hours and required a little fine tuning on the mig welder as it suddenly got silly about advancing the wire, so I had to partially disassemble it and clean some internals to get it back on track.

 

 

 

 

I am already jumping ahead a little too far in the story so let me back up a couple days.

 

 

It was Halloween when Chris decided it would be good for me to get organized. Mostly because as "Baa" she had needed to go pass out candy in Columbus and wander around in the dark, in unfamiliar neighborhoods taking pictures of strange children in weird costumes demanding candy or you get a scathing look. However I don't think I ever saw a zebra so happy to be in the paws of a lion before this. During this little foray she determined a strapping young man in training to be a firefighter in Columbus, would be available for a couple days and also be able to bring his children, she has some strange attachment to them, over to the farm, and help with the concrete floor.

But now I must back up yet again, the Ford Escort, which has been a great little car, has been racing around the "not always smooth" roads here, for over 5 years now. And has developed a rather annoying banging noise in the front end. I replaced the lower ball joint on the right side and it got better, but not fully corrected. I determined, scientifically of course, that it needs new struts. So I bought them. I also, finally after having them rattling around in the car for months, installed the new plugs, where upon I found that the engine had been running on three plugs for a while, not to cool for a four cylinder engine. Then the alternator went out, and a headlight burned out. I have new bulbs and struts but haven't had time to install them yet. I even got another lower ball joint, just to be thorough, so all the front end will be tip top.

Of course a nice flat surface would make this a much easier job, but my garage is totally full of valuable junk and there is no room to work on such things. I need shelves. So I have this backhoe attachment, remember about it? My tractor won't power it, and the pump I bought and waited months for, isn't working for this application, it moves tons of oil, but not a lot of pressure, and the force of the oil coming back into the tank, is such that the oil just flows out of the breather and after about 8 minutes the backhoe won't even move itself to a position that it can be moved away, to refill it. BIG DISAPPOINTMENT, but like most problems it becomes a challenge to find a way around it, I did, I think. Back in the spring, it became obvious there was a problem with the Bobcat, loud banging, black smoke and no power. I recently determined the right piston wasn't moving so I knew it was probably a blown rod, second time for this little monster. When I bought it, it had a hole in a piston so I had it machined and I rebuilt it myself. (STORY IN MALFUNCTION PAGES) it soon after, threw a rod and I rebuilt it. Well this spring it threw another rod. So when I recently called for parts, three days before the concrete pour, I had a plan! Being as the Bobcat is basically a gasoline powered hydraulic pump on wheels, and has auxiliary connectors to power attachments I figured, I could use it to power the backhoe attachment, which I can only move on the biggest tractor I have. So yes, really a hillbilly set up, but not undo able. EXCEPT ( there are two significant issues about to be revealed so keep up)

 

The first is, I bought a set of stones for a hone I have had since the go karting days, it is a pair of extended stones to allow for the larger pistons of the Kohler engine, one of the sets arrived broken. The part laying cross wise the hole is a broken stone. Not a good thing, and of course discovered when I was in need of using it it immediately at 5 in the morning, of the day I had hoped to reinstall the engine. I ran the hone with "a stone and a half" just because I had to get the engine done, or disaster was imminent. At about 5:15 AM. I was getting a piston ready to insert and saw a weird malformation near the wrist pin, on further inspection, (magnifying glass) I discovered it wasn't going to get put back together, even though I knew I could eventually get the parts, I was out of days. Not yet deterred, I just started moving the tons of good stuff I had out of the machine shed by hand carrying it and using a hand truck as much as possible because as we all remember, I'm pretty weak. (But, you know, an ant can move a ton of sand if given enough time and regularly prodded with electricity, more on that later!) And piling as much as I could under tarps, in buildings, and in the" already full to shoulder high" garage. Of course a few of the things I have, require a machine to move, like the 302 Ford engine, the VW powered welder, the John Deere Auxiliary power unit, and a large pallet of steel. I was pretty much screwed at that point, as I had nothing to move them with, let alone, grade the area I needed a floor in, which was over a foot out of level, and the concrete was ordered. I also had a power trowel setup for rental, which I had to get to town to pick up the night before the pour. And three guys coming to help with the pour. So I ran up to see my "GOOD" neighbor Richard and asked to borrow anything with a bucket, he has a GEHL diesel, track mounted, skid steer loader, that is way bigger than anything I needed. But he said "Sure I could borrow it. Just have it back by 4, so we can feed the cows with it." So I jumped into a completely unknown and vastly different machine from any I had experience with, and headed out the road with it. My skid steer uses two handles to steer and you work the bucket with your feet . This sucker had two 'T" handles you twist, and your feet have nothing to do. It was a challenge, but I learned to fly a helicopter back before they had hover buttons. So I can do pert near anything with a machine.

I raced home, it took about 20 minutes to get there, moved the large items cleared out the rest of the small things and leveled the area I needed to be concrete and still got the loader home in time to feed the cows. THANKS RICHARD! One problem solved and 20 hours to go before the pour.

Now I also needed to get a foundation poured to expand the little house, a great amount, piles and piles, of stuff I have are for the expansion of the little house into a visitor house/ hunting lodge. As soon as that project is done I regain most of the room in the red barn. BECAUSE In the red barn are two piles of 2x6's for the rafters and a "bunk" of plywood for the actual roof, and two pallets of blocks for the foundation. Which was only half dug, the part that I could do by hand, but the front seemed to be made of a dump of large rocks. So I had 20 hours to find a back hoe and operator for the next morning who could be done with the job by noon and out of the way of the cement trucks. Having roughly leveled out the area for the pour, I started collecting old planks that had been removed from the buildings

around the property, and stored in many out of the way places. I tried to nail a couple boards across the base area of the machine shed's west wall, but the boards were about as hard as a rock, old hickory gets that way I guess, so having no charged batteries ( actually no chargeable batteries left to operate the hand tools I have), I resorted to a couple corded Electric drill motors. I also had some really nice large phillips head screws but they needed a pilot hole drilled to get them where they needed to be. But there was an outlet right there in the machine shed that I use to run the Bug Zapper and in the winter the heated bucket for Oscar, because something has to keep the water from freezing so that goat can kick and tear and generally destroy the area in which he is kept. Out of complete gratitude for his nice surroundings of course.

 

Nice Milwaukee variable speed units, with "double insulation" (that's bullshit by the way). I will explain. I got electrocuted by the nicest 1/2 inch drill I ever owned.

I was kneeling in the damp dirt, tightening the chuck on a phillips driver bit and I got blasted. Now never believe them when they tell you about that tunnel crap, I was totally frozen, unable to release the drill motor as I was getting shocked, I tried to let go. I knew what was happening, and all I could think about was how stupid it was to get fried by a drill motor in a farm building. I fell backward and gravity knocked the drill motor out of my hand. I was cussing up a storm, and it took a couple days for the taste of my fillings to leave my mouth. But trust me, no whole life before my eyes, no tunnel, no light, just a pissed off feeling that this isn't the way I die. OH, and a big thank you to the moron who wired this outlet wrong! I am going to get one of those "plug testers" and check every damn outlet on this farm. As soon as I get my good junk in, out of the weather. But that's what we are here to witness, so on with the story. Needless to mention, I didn't do much more about the skirting of the building at that point. I moved on to other issues, that wouldn't fry my brains, for the rest of the afternoon.

Meanwhile I had to get the power trowel from the local hardware and it was fast approaching dark, but it had stopped raining, which was what I was waiting for. You see, the wipers had quit working a while back. So I needed to go when it wasn't raining, but little did I realize, dark would be even more of a problem. I was aware the battery was getting weak. I'd had to charge it regularly, but I thought it was because I regularly left the radio on, or the doors open (courtesy lights on) all day, when I had it out in the fields, and I only ever drive it around the farm except the once a month or so to fill the gas tank. Anyway about half way to the hardware, in the middle of nowhere, the lights dimmed and the engine started to misfire. I flipped the lights off and the engine started running right again. But it was dusk and night approaches quickly out here. So the first stop was Autozone, for a new battery, after which I had them check the alternator, (New one in the box, on the front seat), and on the battery alone, drove over to the hardware to pick up the power trowel, and made a Banzai run for home. I made the trip back to town the morning after, to return the power trowel, on the battery again, without the need of lights, it is far less stressful.

When Russell came with another trailer load of good scrap and spent the night it gave me time to think, and the next morning when I decided to finish the skirting, he could drive the nails, and I finally remembered a pile of those boards had been stacked away in the corn crib a couple years ago, when I finished closing in the garage. So we spent the morning using an extension cord from the garage and hand leveling the area for the pour. When we were almost done with that Matt and the kids showed up, along with Roy ready to work, and carrying all the tools we would need for the day. And after the day we put in, he has to be happy with the surgeon that fixed his back, he is in way better shape than I am at this point. But then, he's younger.

Meanwhile back at the prep area. Chris came through on the backhoe while I was gone. She found Clifford, a man with a little back hoe, a clear morning schedule, and eventually he figured out where we were. The picture above shows the part of the footer I had dug, by hand, before Clifford arrived. There is an existing sewer pipe that now comes from nowhere, that I am intent upon connecting to a toilet later. And it caused me some concern when Clifford was digging around it, it turns out he has a rule, that a shovel is of no use while he has a working backhoe. Now, though I agree with the concept, and in fact personally adhere to it. I also didn't want to have to repair or replace this pipe at this point. But using Clifford's laser we created two matching foundations, and trust me, the one in the front was a lot harder to dig, due to the large rocks that someone had used for fill. But they were pretty nice and over 30 inches deep.

This is the front before Clifford's little backhoe, notice the rock I dug out by hand in the bottom right corner. Obviously my destroyed back and I were beyond over matched for this part, and of course, at this moment, the first concrete truck was on it's way..

 

 

 

 

 

Clifford thought he could do a better job if we would just get rid of the corner post. So Russ and I retrieved the portable engine hoist from the garage, which was no small feat in it's own right, and managed to get it in place to support the roof, so the corner post could be removed and allow access at the corner, so no shovel would have to be involved. Which made Clifford happier about his efforts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had tried to cut the concrete pad that was poured outside the door, so the foundation could be attached to the existing basement wall which is made of barn stones. But I was unable to cut it deep enough, I had also tried to pull the entire pad out from under the porch roof, when I had Richard's skid steer. But it was connected to something substantial and not going to move or break, so we let Rusty loose on it with a sledge hammer, (which now has a broken handle, split it right up the center, but really, it got the concrete out of the way when I needed it moved and gives me the chance to replace the handle with fiberglass later. Lets face it I really like the fiberglass and plastic handles much better anyway.) He demolished the concrete pad in the area we needed to have cleared out. And allowed Clifford and his little hoe access to create a matching set of deep foundations. Which came in handy, when the first truck still had concrete in it, after completely filling the machine shed forms and the foundation. So, well I won't be laying block below grade, and this foundation will make someone really cuss if they ever try to remove it. But by then, I will surely be dead, electric drill or not!

It turned out Clifford was gone only minutes before the first of the two concrete trucks arrived. Alex was thrilled, and apprehensive, when he came down to see the cement trucks. Those trucks were huge and the tires were taller than he was, I would have to admit I was pretty impressed with the size of the first truck too, as the driver pulled up, and I showed him where I wanted the truck, he asked me if I was sure it was solid ground, "I weigh 70,000 pounds, and I don't want to get stuck."

 

 

 

Well, being as my 2/8/9 N Ford wouldn't start , I felt it was prudent not to take any chances. But he backed right into the area I needed him to go without difficulty.

Alex was able to stay and watch some of the pour and then went with Grandma up to the house for a nap, good for all of us, as it became apparent we were going to have a little extra concrete. By the time the first truck had off loaded we were done with the machine shed floor and the initial pour of the foundation. And had also created a great opportunity for me to avoid laying a lot of blocks, by pouring the concrete to the top of the trenches Clifford had dug out creating a monster of a foundation, with only about two blocks, necessary to complete the foundation walls

Because it turns out, I didn't need 18 yards of concrete, I needed about 10. Which is what the first truck was carrying. OH MY GOD what am I going to do with a full truck of concrete? First, we tried to cancel the second truck, but it turned out it was en route, and there was no one interested in the load, partially due to the fiber I have added to make the concrete stronger without using steel mesh. Well, as I was stuck with a second load, and I live on a farm, and I had help , though no digging equipment, and never one to waste concrete. Well, we "rapid formed" an apron for the side of the garage with the roll up door. Which will give me a couple other options later, but I can't describe them adequately without pictures, so I will save it for a later date. But I can

 

 

 

now refer to the new apron, in the pictures of cutting the shelving "leg units" down, at the top of the page. See how it's all interconnected? Each part of every project is dependant upon, and preliminary to another project, it is all a large circle jerk!

Notice in this picture everyone is working but me, seems wrong doesn't it. Actually I am leaning on a shovel, mostly because with the three days of abuse I put myself through to get ready, I had "not one iota" of energy or flexibility left, and I needed that shovel just to stand upright. But don't tell anybody, I'm pretty sure that after all that happened I may have exceeded my daily allowance of little pills. And this is before it was obvious we had another truck coming that we had no legitimate need for.

 

 

 

After the apron was poured in front of the garage, we ran up to the house and built a 2x6 box behind the house to pour a pad for Chris to park on. Later I will shift it into the ground, but for now, it is a raised dais. No tool to dig with makes Ray a wild concrete worker.

 

 

 

 

 

Of course no project is complete without some torture of the available children.

Little people get immortalized far to early in their lives to really appreciate it. Alex participated without a whimper and thought it was fun as long as he got it wiped off his hand pretty quickly, but it just couldn't get off Lilly's little hand quick enough. She was really pretty good about it though and it is a good paw print.

 

 

So let's just run down the total situation. I have everything I own spread out in the fields, a car that needs new struts and and rear brakes. A truck that needs a new wiper motor, and the alternator replaced. The bobcat engine to rebuild and reinstall. The Backhoe pump replaced with a more appropriate unit. And the rear tires on the big tractor changed. And everything is related and interdependent and needs to be done at the same time. Of course as always I will keep you in the loop and let you know how it's going. And now that the weather is turning and we can start tearing into things without the worry of creature issues, I'm sure we are going to have another adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Man, are we happy out here!

 

The Chores, Fresh Air, Green Acres is for ME.