He lifts me up.....

I am talking about my hubby. Yes, he lifts me up when I am in the dumps, but today I am talking about a different type of lifting.

I have taken on a major project. We store our hay making equipment in an old chicken house on the farm I grew up on. This is a good sized barn, as it held 7,000 laying hens back when I was a girl. It has been in need of a coat of paint for sometime and I decided that I could get it done. The first step was scraping all the old, peeling paint off it in order to get a coat (or more) of paint on it. Rather than doing all that by hand, I have learned how to run a power washer and took care of the long side and the front as far up as I could get standing on the ground. I finished up the side by standing on a hay wagon. In order to finish the front side though, I needed to be up higher. Ladders don't thrill me, and my hubby suggested that Thomas could lift me up in the bucket of the loader tractor and I could wash it from there. I quickly let him know that I didn't have enough life insurance for myself for that to be wise. So yesterday afternoon, while waiting for the hay to get dry enough to bale, hubby lifted me up in the bucket and I sprayed off the paint on the front of the building. Then he took over for the very peak of the building and completed the project.

Now I just have to spray off the trim on the other side. Hopefully, I can finished that part off before we head off for a vacation. When we get back, I will learn how to run a paint sprayer. That should be amusing.