There are weekends where you feel productive… and then there are weekends where the whole homestead quietly levels up. This was one of those.

The coop was first. It had been taking a beating — weathered wood, uneven wear, time starting to win. So we didn’t patch it. We reset it. Pressure washing stripped years off. Sanding brought it back. Seal and paint locked it in. Not for looks — for survival. By the end, it wasn’t fading anymore… it was ready again.

From worn down… to reset and sealed

Same structure — completely different future

Where it started — weather and time showing through

While that was happening, Evelyn was running systems. Tablet in hand — moving across the property: Generators. Mowers. 4-wheelers. Anything with an identity. Every number logged. Every machine documented. What that created wasn’t obvious right away… …but now everything is searchable. No guessing. No digging through manuals. Just pull it — and know.

Turning machines into a system instead of a mystery

And then it paid off immediately. The Spartan mower quit. Push start — dead. Normally, that’s a delay. A parts chase. A guessing game. This time? No delay. Model known. System understood. Wiring traced. We bypassed the failure and brought it back online the same day. That’s the difference between reacting… and being ready.

Diagnosis turns into action when the system is known

Back up and running — no downtime wasted

In between all that… life kept moving. Birds handled. Fence work happening. Daily rhythm still there.

Even during the work — the homestead keeps its heartbeat

Every system gets attention — not just the obvious ones

On the surface, it was simple: A coop restored. Machines documented. A mower fixed. But underneath? Longevity got extended. Systems became visible. Response time got faster. Nothing flashy. Just the kind of progress that stacks… until everything starts working better.

The October fluffballs have finally dropped their first eggs ~ woop woop! After months of freeloading, eating like linebackers, and staring at us like we owed them rent, they finally clocked in for work. We ordered all~hen sexed chicks, but apparently three roosters identified as "surprise plot twist."

They`ll be hittin' the gumbo pot soon for this chilly snap ~ because around here, if you don`t lay eggs, you better taste good. That`s just homestead math. No free~loaders munchin' our feed without contributin' to the breakfast club.

With the cold keepin' us cooped up, I dove into AI image tinkering. Turned a selfie into cartoon mode ~ because if you can`t control the weather, at least control the pixels. Original on the left, AI remix on the right.

Original selfie ~ egg~cellent find!

AI cartoon remix ~ cluckin' cool upgrade!

Nothin' like fresh farm wins to beat the winter blues ~ here`s to more eggs and fewer freeloaders. If the rooster reads this, just know... it`s not personal. It`s poultry in motion.

Most of us grew up with a Daisy Red Ryder or a Benjamin pump air rifle ~ a classic way to pass the time shooting cans in the backyard. But since Evelyn has expressed a real interest in marksmanship, I decided to do some research and upgrade the family arsenal. I picked up a mid~grade modern air rifle for her to train on, and it arrived just in time for the "Ice~Mageddon" prep!

Getting the scope mounted and the first rounds downrange.

Shocking power: Punching clean through a steel chair!

I took it out to the Back 40 today to get the scope mounted and zeroed in before she got home from school. Holy. Crap. A modern air rifle is no joke! I was using an old steel chair as a target backdrop, and this thing was punching holes right through the metal. It is legitimately more powerful than some .22LR rounds I`ve fired!

33 yards out and dead~on. The grouping doesn`t lie!

I haven`t had this much fun plinking since I was a teenager. I got it zeroed for some tight groupings at 25 yards, then pushed it out to 33 yards (100ft) and gave it a shot (get it? Dad joke). It is dead~on and ready for Evelyn to take over when she steps off the bus. I honestly don`t know if I want to relinquish it to her yet ~ this thing is a blast!

Building skills, protecting the homestead, and having a little fun while the weather turns sour. That is how the SETX MisFits roll.

Somewhere, an OSHA inspector is having a full-body twitch and clutching a clipboard like a life raft. While this may not be what you would see inside a local chemical plant, it still gets the job done! Pa took it upon himself today to clean off what was 3+ years of leaves, sticks, and lord knows what else from the top of the carport on the back of the property.

If you`re wondering how this operation was conducted: with confidence, questionable ladder angles, and the kind of "it`ll be fine" energy that makes insurance adjusters sweat.

That is a lot of weight for a carport to hold... 😬

Pa risking it all to protect the Vardo!

We got word of a bad ice storm rolling in this weekend and we really didn`t need anything happening to this carport. It is what protects our lovely Vardo, after all! Even though he was sending me these shots while I was at work just to prove he was still safe, I was holding my breath the whole time.

Mission Accomplished: Clean, clear, and ready for the ice!

While it definitely wasn`t the "safest" way to spend a Tuesday, he still got it done! Bring on the ice storm~the SETXMisFits are ready.

What started as a "chill day" to lick our wounds from yesterday turned into a full~blown mechanical marathon! Ma and I were up at 5:30am with the rooster, coffee in hand, organizing the chaos. After feeding the farm animals (including our live~in wild animal, Evelyn), we finally dove into the 1995 Honda Shadow.

Check out those old pads... or lack thereof. Pure bare metal!

Ma elbow~deep in the rear assembly!

Focused and determined ~ Ma getting those new pads seated perfectly.

By 8:00am we were deep in YouTube tutorials and cussing at stuck bolts. After a surprise fire call investigation (check the Home page for that dusty mess!), we tackled the exhaust leak. That "pretty" chrome cover was hiding a massive hole that explains the roar!

The "Before" ~ That is a serious hole in the pipe!

The "After" ~ Ma`s high~heat epoxy and fiberglass wrap fix.

She is sounding beautiful now. We still have spark plugs and a turn signal to troubleshoot, but she is ready for a long Springtime cruise. This bike is how we destress and forget the world`s problems, and having it back in action is a huge win!

What a week! It's been a rollercoaster of "downs," but we ended on a massive, victorious triumph when that stubborn bolt finally started spinning!

The bike up on the jack ~ operation tire-change begins!

New rubber vs old rim ~ ready for the local shop.

The War Report: As soon as I applied torque to that JB-welded bolt, the epoxy just gave up and popped right out. Back to square one! Being out here in the sticks means no 24-hour delivery, so I had to wait on a left-handed drill bit and extractor set from Amazon.

Disaster struck on Monday when I started drilling... THE EXTRACTOR SNAPPED OFF INSIDE! Talk about a heart-sinker. Those things are made of some kind of indestructible super-metal that no drill bit wanted to touch.

The extractor that almost broke my spirit.

EVIDENCE OF VICTORY! The beast has been removed.

Thankfully, I had access to the opposite end of the thread. I started with the smallest traditional bit I could find and slowly~step by step, size by size~drilled that monster out. Eventually, I tried one more "easy~out" and IT WORKED! I can't even describe the level of happy I reached.

I rushed the rim to the local tire shop, got the new tube and tire mounted, and she's finally back together on the bike.

"Dammit Jim, I`m a homesteader, not a miracle worker!" Actually… give me coffee, spite, and 24 hours of cure time and I might be both.

We had a critical system failure today in the form of a stupid stripped bolt. This thing refused to budge, refused to cooperate, and basically insulted the entire MisFit lineage. So I initiated what history will now record as the JB Weld Protocol.

I fused a bit into that stubborn sucker with enough steel~reinforced epoxy to hold a small moon together. Now we wait. 24 hours. Cure time. Faith. Vibes. Possibly mild threats.

Applied: One dose of hope and a lot of JB Weld.

The culprit: A stripped bolt with zero chill.

Send good juju while the redneck enginuityism settles in. If this works, I`m adding "Epoxy Whisperer" to my resume.

Teleworking sometimes has its perks ~ mainly being on~site when the utility gods decide to swap out your power pole.

I managed to bribe the operators with 3 dozen fresh MisFit Farm eggs to use the boom truck to save our wireless camera rig and the "MisFit Farms" sign from a high~altitude demolition. If barter ever makes a comeback, we`re prepared.

When they asked if I wanted the old pole, I couldn`t say no to free lumber. It`s 40 feet of "I`ll find a use for this eventually." Which is basically the homestead motto.

25 yr old Dodge Power: Pole Draggin` Edition.

The Sign (and Cameras) survived the swap!

Dragged that monster into the backyard like a primitive tugboat captain. Yard might need a moment to forgive me. But free lumber is free lumber.

Mood: Frustrated with busted knuckles and mechanical betrayal.

Took mine and Ma`s pride and joy ~ the 1995 Honda Shadow ~ into the shop area to swap out some dangerously smooth rubber. I was feeling like a pro, bolts flying off left and right, until I met the final boss: one stubborn fork bolt that decided it wanted to be round instead of hexagonal.

Being the "Jack of all trades, master of none" around this homestead usually means I can fix anything… eventually. For now, the Shadow was grounded while I plotted revenge.

Setting the stage for a simple tire swap... or so I thought.


Old tread smoother than a polished pebble vs. fresh, grippy rubber.


The face of mechanical frustration + the rounded culprit.

MisFits don`t stay down for long. We regroup. We hydrate. We escalate torque.

Those old back porch steps were on their last leg ~ been creakin` since the house went up in October 2020. Fired up the shop lights for some late~night hustle and turned recycled rail ties and beams from the old house into a sturdy porch I`m proud of.

From rickety steps to sturdy setup ~ built MisFit style.

Our 1.5~acre slice of Southeast Texas heaven ~ chickens ruling the roost, projects never ending, eggs for sale, tools misplaced but eventually found. Ma`s domain, but Pa`s labor camp.

Home Sweet Chaos.