When I was a kid, my dad, brother and I planted thousands (not an exaggeration) of white pines. Those pines grew and my dad harvested them a couple of years ago. My dad, Amish friends and my uncles milled those logs. A barn was built with most of it. One of my uncles made wood duck houses out of the slab wood.
I wanted to put the wood duck house out when the water was frozen so I could put it in this certain spot I was eying. This temps this year didn't cooperative, so it didn't happen. My dad reminded me that if I didn't get it out soon, it wouldn't be useful this year.
So we popped it up in not the most ideal place, but it's up. Our tiny little neighbor will be the reporter. She'll check it out daily and let us know when and if someone moves in.
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