"Didn't we almost have it small?"
I could have wrote those lyrics for a famous Whitney Houston song, couldn't I?
Any road. The NEW hen house (no longer used for hens) door is now installed and it's even been given a coat of red oxide paint. Number one son cannibalized (cut down and welded) a door and fixed it into place. We were 6 inches (15 centimetres in new gas meters) short. So he sent me to look round the smallholding for another piece of corrugated iron. I remembered (light bulb moment) using one for part of a compost heap.
So I set off to the plot (it's about fifty feet away) with my trusty English shovel, (the long handled Celtic shovel was having a day off) and did dig like a terrier looking for a rat and did push and shove and extracted the still intact corrugated sheet. Then number one cut it to the right size and text screwed it into place. Then I painted the sheets red and looked back at our work.
Not bad for under a tenner and it will (should do) last me out. We just need to attach a piece of rubber (piece of a car tyre) on the bottom of the door to stop Tom getting in. Many many footsteps have worn the floor down. Did I tell you about Tom? I met him in the summer when we were making one of the gate entrances to the fields with the digger. Silage contractors tractors and machinery are getting bigger (like the round bales) every year. Soon they will be bringing the Ark Royal on wheels to cut your hay or silage.
The door is complete. Lets hope Tom doesn't get in. Can you guess who Tom is?