The Woody Gate

It is good to be home again. Woody, the redneck contractor, stopped by for a visit tonight. He is busy finishing our his huge entrance gate system for our new house. Many of you might remember the story behind the Woody Gate. To refresh your memory, here is a picture:

One day, I left Woody and his crew alone to build my entrance gate to our 5 acre property. In my mind’s eye, I had pictured a modest gate, however, Woody obviously had grander ideas. I was detained longer than normal, but I finally made it back to the build site to check on the progress.

I was stunned to see a HUGE entrance pillars and walls about 7 feet high or so built out of cinderblock with steel supports. This wall looked more at home as an entrance to WalMart or an upscale community of a housing development.

Woody was so proud of his “bitchin gate.” Despite this thought, I had the workers halt immediately, and later on, I removed a few cinderblock courses to reduce the height a bit. The picture above reflects the lowered height- if you can believe that!

Fast forward to now. Woody has been off building other houses, but he is now “dialed into” (woodyspeak) finishing our gate. While I was in WA, Woody installed the new gate and has the communication devices ready to be installed, too. See his progress:

After the electrician does his part, then the rock mason comes out to finish it off.  To help blend this mega gate to the environment, I’ve decided to rock most of it with the same rock used on the house.  Hopefully, this will also satisfy my neighbors- who actually do call it “the walmart gate.”

You might notice in the last pictures that the height of the gate is too high for the pillars- so now we have to raise the pillar and walls to accommodate this fact.  so in the end, Woody gets his “bitchin” high gate after all.

I will be sure to post some pictures when it is finished.  Here it is:

Before it is completed, I am sure to add a few more Woody stories to my blog with some added “woodyisms” as well.  Today,  when he phoned, his voice boomed through the receiver, “What’s Tickin, Chicken?” – which is an old favorite woodyism of mine.

Hugs, Carla