A few bricks short of a load

No, not referring to myself THIS time. Instead, I am referring to our old farmhouse. Over 110 years old, it has a few issues. One little, minor one comes to mind. The foundation. Although not exactly built on sand, our home has experienced some shifting over the years. Most often this occurs when all of the family is here for Thanksgiving or Christmas and they come running into the dining room en masse when I announce the meal is ready. Like a herd of mastodons they will thunder into the room seeking holiday meat and desserts. OK, its not ALL their faults. The fact that the bricks in our foundation were probably made during the Civil War might also have something to do with it.

Thus , a couple of weeks ago, when Keith walked out the back door and saw, literally, a pile of bricks that had fallen ever so casually from our foundation, he decided to move a little quicker towards repair. (See the pic below for the brick pile just to the right of the back door) Enter an elderly man with a serious smoking habit. A gentleman we had heard about from a friend of a friend. He started work on a handshake. ( Stop shaking your head at me Mike Holmes) He worked very fast and came in UNDER estimate. He started early and stayed late even though the weather was very hot. He got the job done.

And the best news ...I was able to get my porch moved back into place. A good thing, as that first fall of the morning out my back kitchen door was starting to take its toll.