It Feels Like Sunday

I've been getting up early these days in the darkness. Mountain Time. We are ensconced in Maxine's western house, all brown with a swooping cathedral ceiling. You can look around outside and then bring your view back to where I'm sitting and it's hard to distinguish where out ends and in begins.  I don't know whether this is good or bad.  But it is Wyoming. Cowboys and horses and Cottonwoods.  Like the Plains, we're spread out, so much so that it takes about four minutes for the hot water to reach the Master Bedroom Suite.  As for the business at hand - getting old Wandah into road shape - last night before dark fell, I glued up the aft floor with plywood and cedar for strength and for resistance to rot. And this morning, more beefing up the floor stringers and caulking. The last photo shows the wheel well, the handiwork of Powder River Heating and Plumbing. They have a well-equipped shop and real friendly fabricators sporting broad-brimmed cowboys hats.  In a dry run the new wheel well fit wheel well.