We have now purchased the grain bin (again, mentioned on the sly) with plans to disassemble on a Saturday morning with the help of his dad, Al, his cousins with invaluable equipment and a few friends. (I could write a book about all of these Dale-isms I am enamored with.)įast forward three weeks. Thought we might talk about this a little, but again, this is Dale and I am fascinated by the way his brain works so I just go along. Until six weeks later when he mentioned, in passing, he was going to look at a grain bin he found for sale outside of Verona. I knew he was probably hitting up his craigslist app but didn't think much of it. We have been together long enough for me to know that I probably opened a large can of worms.expensive ones too. With no pomp and circumstance, he handed my phone back to me and picked his up (I did receive the customary "hmph" though.phew). And a long-enough stare that I could literally see the wheels turning. But instead, he took the phone out of my hand and stared.
Like I have done ten thousand times before, I slanted my phone enough for Dale to see, expecting the customary "hmph" sound out of his mouth where Pinterest projects are concerned. While lying in bed one winter night cruising Pinterest, I happened to come across the photo of a grain bin bar. (You can break in to your best Julie Andrews voice a la Sound of Music here.) And this project probably has more meaning than anything in our life so far. I mean, it's not like we have anything else going on that takes our up our time and energy (wink, wink). That shouldn't surprise our friends and family.
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