I'm not sure where the last half week went. Not in terribly productive anything, I'm afraid. Boo.
Today, neither Phil nor I felt great, so we decided to stay home from church. By early afternoon, the children were not playing well together, so they headed outside.
Only a few minutes later, I heard a prolonged scream, but it was such it sounded like it could be part of a game.
No. Isaiah had been riding his bike on the road, when the neighbor's dog, part pit bull, came after him, trying to bite his tires of all things. This is extremely uncharacteristic of the dog (full moon tomorrow, so maybe he was temporarily a luna-tic?). For some reason, Isaiah didn't mention this to Phil, but continued to ride. Shortly after, the dog bit his leg.
Hence, his long yell, from the neighbor's land all the way home.
His jeans were, incredibly, intact, but he had a puncture/gash behind the knee, perhaps a centimeter long, with a bit of muscle tissue poking through. I figured he'd need stitches, so we headed to the ER.
Had I known then what I know now, we shouldn't have gone. Animal wounds (even those shielded by jeans, apparently) do not get stitches, no matter the severity. Perhaps a loose suture, if the wound is bad enough, but because of the dog's filthy mouth, any serious stitching would be at risk for infection.
And so the nurse did what I could have done: hydrogen peroxide, triple antibiotic ointment, and sterile strips to hold the wound mostly together.
The antibiotic prescription could just as easily have come from our family doctor tomorrow. And if there was an urgent care center, that would have been a nice option, but living just outside a city with a teaching hospital and a second large hospital complex, I haven't been able to learn anything about urgent care facilities locally.
If there's something worse than an ER visit, it's a non-necessary ER visit. Bah!
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
We (Almost) Get a Bed to Ourselves
Joe, at four, has looked longingly at his brother's beds. Yesterday I finally pulled down the three bulb crates where the older three brothers keep their treasures (Joe has a separate box), returning the upper bunk space to a bed. For the moment, the crates sit, stacked, in front of my dresser. It's a good thing I keep my workday clothes on a shelf.
Joe was entirely enamored of this new space. He got an air mattress and a pillow and his frog blanket, and he was set for the night.
But when he hopped down for the second time to hug me and give me a kiss goodnight, I suspected that severing himself from the parent bed would not be as easy as I'd hoped.
"Joe, do you want to sleep next to me tonight?"
His eyes filled with tears. "I thought my bed would just be for resting."
Someday we will have a bed to ourselves. Someday even a bedroom! But for now, I'll keep my little kicking heater and be content.
The weather has been quite variable lately: if not snow, then perhaps a deluge that made Phil hurry to put away all the mill and accoutrements. As soon as all was buttoned up, the rain stopped. It happens.
If it's wet and cold, Phil saws for our friend. If it's sunny and nice (today! Finally!) he lays block. When he left off last Friday, the space was coming along.
And 45 blocks more today (748 total thus far) means the wall gets ever closer.
Friday, February 15, 2013
First Daffodil
I was planting six more pawpaws in the orchard today when I glanced downslope and saw ... a fully blooming daffodil. Apparently, the spot right under a plum tree is the most ideal microclimate for that particular bulb. The day after Valentine's Day, and there is a splash of color for me to celebrate.
Phil has had two good days of work on the structure. The long wall, now that the corners are done, moves quickly. The photo is what he accomplished yesterday: he again worked until after dark.
We studied a bit of Jesus' final teaching to his disciples before the crucifixion yesterday, the beginning of John 15. Verse 2 says
Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.We talked about the pruning that comes on productive branches, and Phil brought up peaches. Peaches bear on new wood, and so if a person goes to a peach tree, expecting new fruit from last year's wood, that person is going to be disappointed. The tree can't rely on last year's productivity, but needs to be renewed.
I like that picture. There is productivity, and there is pruning, and there is new growth and new productivity, not because the husbandman does not like the tree's fruit, but because it's time for new fruitfulness.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Well ... Better
Phil watered the cows this morning without difficulty. Presumably, the prayers of the saints on behalf of our recalcitrant water allowed the pump and various spigots to behave themselves. What a relief. Will it last? Who knows! But for today, we were grateful.
Phil spent the day sawyering. He has finished the logs that are here, and had a good time. He figured out some fast ways of marking the center of the small end of the logs, and that allows him to precisely cut. We have a calculator that determines approximately how many board feet the logs should have made: it should have been about 762 board feet, but he got 884! Good for him, to figure the various angles and cuts so well.
Isaiah took the camera out and played with it. I liked his photo of the chicken.
I also like the guinea in his favorite tree, the sole animal that remains since the year we came, in 2009.
And Biggles happened to catch a mouse while Isaiah was shooting, an iconic image of predator and prey.
For myself, I was thankful to (finally) get my box of homeopathy books and instructional materials. I wish I could devote much time to it, but, as my sister says, this will be a marathon and not a sprint. Too bad! So many interesting things to learn!
Phil spent the day sawyering. He has finished the logs that are here, and had a good time. He figured out some fast ways of marking the center of the small end of the logs, and that allows him to precisely cut. We have a calculator that determines approximately how many board feet the logs should have made: it should have been about 762 board feet, but he got 884! Good for him, to figure the various angles and cuts so well.
Isaiah took the camera out and played with it. I liked his photo of the chicken.
I also like the guinea in his favorite tree, the sole animal that remains since the year we came, in 2009.
And Biggles happened to catch a mouse while Isaiah was shooting, an iconic image of predator and prey.
For myself, I was thankful to (finally) get my box of homeopathy books and instructional materials. I wish I could devote much time to it, but, as my sister says, this will be a marathon and not a sprint. Too bad! So many interesting things to learn!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Third Corner Done
This started off as a most excellent day. Phil headed out first thing to feed and water the animals. After filling their tank about one-third of the way, the water shut off. This has been a constant refrain for the last week, and finally Phil decided to dig to find the problem.
The third spigot he dug up appeared to be the problem. The spigot in the apple orchard was surrounded by water as Phil dug. Happily, he just had to jiggle a rod, and everything with the spigot settled back into place. Perfect!
He then set the final six corner blocks for the third corner, without any difficulty whatsoever, and then, to finish off that half batch of mortar, he finished a row along the long wall: 20 blocks set today.
With such lovely sunny weather, I headed out to plant pawpaws. I haven't known exactly what to do, or where, but I finally settled on a swale between the newly planted apple trees. I got through seven little trees, surrounded by daffodil bulbs and with rocks for condensation and worm habitat at the base.
Beatrice the heifer had a due date yesterday. Phil mentioned that her udder and backend looked a bit different, so we headed over after an early dinner to see how she was doing, and to give them some more water.
Beatrice doesn't look like delivery is imminent, but the water remains a nightmare. No water. Plenty of wrestling with the pump, and finally Phil managed to get some pressure. I ran over to see how the cows were doing, and they had tipped their waterer on its side—all the water was dashing on the ground.
Our well has been nothing but trouble for months now. Phil will have to call tomorrow. I feel like we have poured money into it, without a proper return on investment.
And the prospect of going even a day without water means frustrating contortions to ensure the cows stay alive. We can only fill the water wagon from the creek if the ground is reasonably dry. Rain predicted tomorrow.
It's discouraging enough to end the day sadly, instead of gladly.
The third spigot he dug up appeared to be the problem. The spigot in the apple orchard was surrounded by water as Phil dug. Happily, he just had to jiggle a rod, and everything with the spigot settled back into place. Perfect!
He then set the final six corner blocks for the third corner, without any difficulty whatsoever, and then, to finish off that half batch of mortar, he finished a row along the long wall: 20 blocks set today.
With such lovely sunny weather, I headed out to plant pawpaws. I haven't known exactly what to do, or where, but I finally settled on a swale between the newly planted apple trees. I got through seven little trees, surrounded by daffodil bulbs and with rocks for condensation and worm habitat at the base.
Beatrice the heifer had a due date yesterday. Phil mentioned that her udder and backend looked a bit different, so we headed over after an early dinner to see how she was doing, and to give them some more water.
Beatrice doesn't look like delivery is imminent, but the water remains a nightmare. No water. Plenty of wrestling with the pump, and finally Phil managed to get some pressure. I ran over to see how the cows were doing, and they had tipped their waterer on its side—all the water was dashing on the ground.
Our well has been nothing but trouble for months now. Phil will have to call tomorrow. I feel like we have poured money into it, without a proper return on investment.
And the prospect of going even a day without water means frustrating contortions to ensure the cows stay alive. We can only fill the water wagon from the creek if the ground is reasonably dry. Rain predicted tomorrow.
It's discouraging enough to end the day sadly, instead of gladly.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Botulism Anchovies
When I make pizza for dinner, the boys all eat our pork sausage on top. I avoid pork, so I pulled a can of anchovies to add to my pork free pizza.
The box around the can was a bit grease stained. That seemed odd, but who knows where such grease comes from. The expiration date was for next week.
The can itself was a bit bowed outward. Why did I open it, despite all my horrible canning experiences two years ago? I DON'T KNOW! What was I thinking?
A geyser of spoiled anchovy-flavored olive oil shot out of the little can when I popped the top. A splash ended up on the top of my scalp, where I could feel it settling down. Up my arms, all over my hands, a splash by my waist.
That was incredibly disgusting. But at least I got a good title out of it! And very little food was spoiled, and nothing else that I could tell—amazing, for how much of me was covered.
In less disgusting news, we had a nice rain overnight. The weather was supposed to turn sunny today, but everything felt damp. Phil could, perhaps, have laid blocks, but since he would have to do a lot of difficult lifting to finish the corner, the idea of doing that in slippery conditions didn't appeal.
So he spent all day sawing lumber for our friend. It was a good day of work, and he made good progress, but it got off to a rocky start.
First, he had to load this 16' long, 18" diameter oak onto the mill. He had a new idea about how to do so, but the idea didn't work very well. It actually tipped the mill over. Remove incredibly big log, hoist the mill upright, then reset all the leveling wood supports.
And, after all that back-breaking effort, he was just back where he had started.
I think it took about two hours to get that one log into position, ready to saw. The sawing, too, was not easy with such a heavy log: the mill would scootch over, almost falling off the wood supports.
Happily, because of what Phil learned with the first log, the second, almost as large, log took much less time to load and saw. And Phil finally was able to move all the large logs off the trailer. Thus, instead of sawing a board, stacking it next to the mill, then moving the board onto the tractor tines and driving it over to the trailer and unloading it there (very inefficient), Phil could saw a board, put it on the tractor tines, and drive it over and unload. The less materials handling, the better.
The first two logs Phil stacked to the side (he was unsure how to off load the 16' trees). Here he is stacking the boards on the tractor tines, moving them over to the trailer.
I am thankful we have such an ideal work area: the "parking lot" between the road and our metal building is flat, and with the driveway and the 25' setback before the orchard begins, we have a perfect mill space, even on the ridge, so it drains quickly. We had first thought to set up the mill downslope from the metal building, but, as Phil thought about the weight of the logs, he figures he would have tipped the tractor.
With the lumber all neatly stickered (little wood shims put between lumber to keep it drying out) and carefully stacked, the trailer looks very nice.
And, best of all, the day passed without anything breaking! So Phil really did get to work from about 8:30 until after 5:30 with only a short lunch break, working the whole time. It feels like we haven't had many days like that, so I am grateful for this one.
One of the nice extras of sawyering is the large pile of sawdust. The bits of bark and oddly shaped extras will be a cleanup challenge (if a log is curved, there can be a good amount of waste in finding a solid plane): perhaps some we can chip, almost exactly where we need it.
So, no new progress on the underground storage, but I did take a photo of all that Phil finished on Saturday.
The box around the can was a bit grease stained. That seemed odd, but who knows where such grease comes from. The expiration date was for next week.
The can itself was a bit bowed outward. Why did I open it, despite all my horrible canning experiences two years ago? I DON'T KNOW! What was I thinking?
A geyser of spoiled anchovy-flavored olive oil shot out of the little can when I popped the top. A splash ended up on the top of my scalp, where I could feel it settling down. Up my arms, all over my hands, a splash by my waist.
That was incredibly disgusting. But at least I got a good title out of it! And very little food was spoiled, and nothing else that I could tell—amazing, for how much of me was covered.
In less disgusting news, we had a nice rain overnight. The weather was supposed to turn sunny today, but everything felt damp. Phil could, perhaps, have laid blocks, but since he would have to do a lot of difficult lifting to finish the corner, the idea of doing that in slippery conditions didn't appeal.
So he spent all day sawing lumber for our friend. It was a good day of work, and he made good progress, but it got off to a rocky start.
First, he had to load this 16' long, 18" diameter oak onto the mill. He had a new idea about how to do so, but the idea didn't work very well. It actually tipped the mill over. Remove incredibly big log, hoist the mill upright, then reset all the leveling wood supports.
And, after all that back-breaking effort, he was just back where he had started.
I think it took about two hours to get that one log into position, ready to saw. The sawing, too, was not easy with such a heavy log: the mill would scootch over, almost falling off the wood supports.
Happily, because of what Phil learned with the first log, the second, almost as large, log took much less time to load and saw. And Phil finally was able to move all the large logs off the trailer. Thus, instead of sawing a board, stacking it next to the mill, then moving the board onto the tractor tines and driving it over to the trailer and unloading it there (very inefficient), Phil could saw a board, put it on the tractor tines, and drive it over and unload. The less materials handling, the better.
The first two logs Phil stacked to the side (he was unsure how to off load the 16' trees). Here he is stacking the boards on the tractor tines, moving them over to the trailer.
I am thankful we have such an ideal work area: the "parking lot" between the road and our metal building is flat, and with the driveway and the 25' setback before the orchard begins, we have a perfect mill space, even on the ridge, so it drains quickly. We had first thought to set up the mill downslope from the metal building, but, as Phil thought about the weight of the logs, he figures he would have tipped the tractor.
With the lumber all neatly stickered (little wood shims put between lumber to keep it drying out) and carefully stacked, the trailer looks very nice.
And, best of all, the day passed without anything breaking! So Phil really did get to work from about 8:30 until after 5:30 with only a short lunch break, working the whole time. It feels like we haven't had many days like that, so I am grateful for this one.
One of the nice extras of sawyering is the large pile of sawdust. The bits of bark and oddly shaped extras will be a cleanup challenge (if a log is curved, there can be a good amount of waste in finding a solid plane): perhaps some we can chip, almost exactly where we need it.
So, no new progress on the underground storage, but I did take a photo of all that Phil finished on Saturday.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
One Wall Done
I've had two boys with the vomits this week (happily it was the two oldest, who manage to take care of themselves pretty well). Phil had a low grade version of the sickness yesterday, just enough to keep him laid low.
Happily, he was ready to go again today. He finished the first wall!
Then he moved over to the third corner, the corner that has given him nothing but fits.
Happily, he had little problem today. Though dark fell before he had finished (and I didn't get a photo of the progress on that corner), I think we were both encouraged. To have that corner up above the grade: it's coming along!
I peeked at some of the growth. I found catkins on a hazelnut bush.
And another hazelnut bush had teeny red blossoms.
And some of the blueberries have buds swelling. (I should really start planting blueberries and blackberries.)
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Second Corner Done
Phil had a productive day on Wednesday. Working diligently from the moment the weather reached over 40, he finished the second corner and almost finished an entire wall before night, and cold, forced a halt. "There's no reason I shouldn't be able to finished this side tomorrow," he said.
Alas! James 4 says
And so it proved. There was no reason, except that the forecast turned out a little colder than expected. Well, maybe the high had never been supposed to be much above 41. And 41 is so close to the lower limit of 40, at which temperature the mortar doesn't hydrate properly and so turns to sand. And if the weather ever did actually reach 40, it must have been for a few minutes at most.
So Phil took over my task of cutting block. He moved pallets of block into his workspace, so he'll be ready to go again when the weather cooperates. He and the boys went to get more propane, and then he headed down to chip.
The chipper is not behaving well. The new belt is working well, but another piece continues to fall off. Between fixing that twice in two hours, unclogging the stopped chute when a particularly punky tree branch went through (punky wood is soft and without texture, a late stage of decomposition), and fixing another problem, his two hours in the lower pasture were not pleasant.
With that many minor repairs, I'm glad I'm not down helping him as I've done in past years, separating piles so he can simply feed the machine. I would be so visibly frustrated, I would add to his frustration.
So although the one wall is not finished, he ended his day satisfied with the work he had done. And, physically, he got up this morning quite stiff, so perhaps a day's reprieve will help maintain his stamina for the long term.
Alas! James 4 says
Go to now, ye that say, To day or to morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain: Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.
And so it proved. There was no reason, except that the forecast turned out a little colder than expected. Well, maybe the high had never been supposed to be much above 41. And 41 is so close to the lower limit of 40, at which temperature the mortar doesn't hydrate properly and so turns to sand. And if the weather ever did actually reach 40, it must have been for a few minutes at most.
So Phil took over my task of cutting block. He moved pallets of block into his workspace, so he'll be ready to go again when the weather cooperates. He and the boys went to get more propane, and then he headed down to chip.
The chipper is not behaving well. The new belt is working well, but another piece continues to fall off. Between fixing that twice in two hours, unclogging the stopped chute when a particularly punky tree branch went through (punky wood is soft and without texture, a late stage of decomposition), and fixing another problem, his two hours in the lower pasture were not pleasant.
With that many minor repairs, I'm glad I'm not down helping him as I've done in past years, separating piles so he can simply feed the machine. I would be so visibly frustrated, I would add to his frustration.
So although the one wall is not finished, he ended his day satisfied with the work he had done. And, physically, he got up this morning quite stiff, so perhaps a day's reprieve will help maintain his stamina for the long term.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Blocks Again!
Phil managed to get new belts for the chipper this morning at a local shop, but then we realized that the weather looks to have highs over 40 for the rest of the week. Block laying!
Since Phil has only laid blocks one day since November 24, neither of us could remember the ratio of sand:cement. (We had started at 3:1 and changed to 2:1.) The mortar consistency wasn't quite right. Phil jumped right in to a corner, which is not fast at the best of times.
At the end of the day, he had finished one corner (except for the top bond beam, which we don't have on site yet). Sixteen blocks.
A nice straight edge on one side, ready for a south-facing window one of these days.
I set up a couple of grow mats in the little greenhouse. I realized, though, that I don't think I can plant yet. After the moderately good success sprouting seeds two years ago in purchased potting soil, compared with the abysmal results of last year's homemade version, I think I'll spring for purchased product. And I don't have that here.
I also finally fed my Celadon beehive. It was fascinating, once I'd poured in sugar solution, to look at the observation sheet. There are pollen pellets and caps there. Caps! That means I've had baby bees emerge recently. The queen started laying at least three weeks ago, in mid-January!
Last Tuesday, when I checked the hives, I removed the mouse guard from Celadon. Immediately, a few bees flew out to orient themselves, about a foot from the hive. Their first flight. I would guess that those were hatched last fall, but maybe not.
No wonder the Celadon hive is hungry: trying to support babies in early February, when there is little growing.
The other two hives did not have clear evidence of babies, but they are certainly active. Damaris had wax flakes, showing that some bees have started constructing the frames already, usually only done in periods of warmth and plenty.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Fourteen Vanished Cows
When Phil went to go chip today, he found the tractor had a flat. After a few hours of chipping, he came up for lunch, and saw the cows through the trees, grazing happily.
After lunch, he chipped until the belt on the chipper broke. We had ordered another one when we bought the chipper, but for some reason, it never showed up. And although I called a few times to ask, the company needed us to measure the dimensions (or something—it doesn't make much sense: I mean, they have the original order, right? How hard could it be to determine the size of the belts?). I must have gotten busy, though, and so we are stuck with a nonfunctional chipper and no belts, a nonfunctional mill and no replacement piece, weather too cold to lay block. Stymied!
I went out around then to get some water for cooking or drinking. The well was dry.
Phil called then to say that all the cows were missing. "Bring flashlights and the fence charger!"
As I headed over, I saw a downed tree limb on the electric line, just big enough to make two or three lines touch each other. Electric fence works so well until it doesn't.
Happily, there are limited places the cows can go. There aren't that many fun grazing places around. Sure enough, the cows had headed toward a large field to the north, almost reaching our friend Butch's land. Happily, Phil noticed they were gone right before any cow hit Butch's, so the cows were still fairly easy to direct, and they didn't have dozens of acres to roam.
Also, it didn't get very dark until we reached our own land. The cows could not figure out where we wanted them to go! We brought them one way, and they suddenly turned and headed back the way they had come. Phil tried to run an electric line to corral them in the lower pasture. The line was too short, and he had a thorny vine suddenly attack his eye.
By about 6:30, the cows (at least 13 for sure) were contained.
As I made dinner, Phil mentioned that he had checked the well. The pressure went to 50psi, then, without using any water, it started to drop. Presumably, we have a leak under one of the four faucets. This is not really a surprise to me. I've wondered that for months. But to have a visual on it makes it more actionable.
In better news, I took a half hour to finish my portion of cleaning out the little greenhouse. There are still several crates and tools that should go to the blue building, but I tossed the bits of plastic, pulled the five foot tall weeds, and consolidated the small tools and parts.
Planting season is coming!
After lunch, he chipped until the belt on the chipper broke. We had ordered another one when we bought the chipper, but for some reason, it never showed up. And although I called a few times to ask, the company needed us to measure the dimensions (or something—it doesn't make much sense: I mean, they have the original order, right? How hard could it be to determine the size of the belts?). I must have gotten busy, though, and so we are stuck with a nonfunctional chipper and no belts, a nonfunctional mill and no replacement piece, weather too cold to lay block. Stymied!
I went out around then to get some water for cooking or drinking. The well was dry.
Phil called then to say that all the cows were missing. "Bring flashlights and the fence charger!"
As I headed over, I saw a downed tree limb on the electric line, just big enough to make two or three lines touch each other. Electric fence works so well until it doesn't.
Happily, there are limited places the cows can go. There aren't that many fun grazing places around. Sure enough, the cows had headed toward a large field to the north, almost reaching our friend Butch's land. Happily, Phil noticed they were gone right before any cow hit Butch's, so the cows were still fairly easy to direct, and they didn't have dozens of acres to roam.
Also, it didn't get very dark until we reached our own land. The cows could not figure out where we wanted them to go! We brought them one way, and they suddenly turned and headed back the way they had come. Phil tried to run an electric line to corral them in the lower pasture. The line was too short, and he had a thorny vine suddenly attack his eye.
By about 6:30, the cows (at least 13 for sure) were contained.
As I made dinner, Phil mentioned that he had checked the well. The pressure went to 50psi, then, without using any water, it started to drop. Presumably, we have a leak under one of the four faucets. This is not really a surprise to me. I've wondered that for months. But to have a visual on it makes it more actionable.
In better news, I took a half hour to finish my portion of cleaning out the little greenhouse. There are still several crates and tools that should go to the blue building, but I tossed the bits of plastic, pulled the five foot tall weeds, and consolidated the small tools and parts.
Planting season is coming!
Sunday, February 3, 2013
A Second Back to Bed Day
Saturday, Phil got up and, with Isaiah along for safety, headed out to water the cows. Unfortunately, the water pump had a thin layer of water in it, which had frozen all the mechanisms in place. Isaiah suggested using the propane plumber's torch to melt the water. So that's what they did. It took a long time.
But finally they had filled the tank with water enough for several days, and Phil drove it up the hill.
Well, he started to. But thawing the pump had taken so long that the very surface of the earth had begun to thaw, just enough to give the tractor no traction as it pulled the 350 gallons up the hill.
So Phil emptied 150 gallons out on the ground. Then they watered the cows.
That took all morning.
In the afternoon, Phil tried to siphon out the gas in the mill, so he could troubleshoot the mill's issues. The siphon didn't work: the weather was so cold, the siphon line wouldn't flex. After some time, though, Phil got most of the gas out.
He thinks the trouble lies with a tiny plastic piece, one that probably costs less than a nickel.
And so the unproductive week came to an end.
I always appreciate Sunday. We nap; we go through papers; we read to the boys and play with the boys. We talk, both to each other and to anyone who will hang out to talk after church. It's good.
But finally they had filled the tank with water enough for several days, and Phil drove it up the hill.
Well, he started to. But thawing the pump had taken so long that the very surface of the earth had begun to thaw, just enough to give the tractor no traction as it pulled the 350 gallons up the hill.
So Phil emptied 150 gallons out on the ground. Then they watered the cows.
That took all morning.
In the afternoon, Phil tried to siphon out the gas in the mill, so he could troubleshoot the mill's issues. The siphon didn't work: the weather was so cold, the siphon line wouldn't flex. After some time, though, Phil got most of the gas out.
He thinks the trouble lies with a tiny plastic piece, one that probably costs less than a nickel.
And so the unproductive week came to an end.
I always appreciate Sunday. We nap; we go through papers; we read to the boys and play with the boys. We talk, both to each other and to anyone who will hang out to talk after church. It's good.
Friday, February 1, 2013
A Back to Bed Day
Poor Phil! The string of unfortunate incidents continued today. The ground froze overnight, but the steep slope had thawed just enough that the truck got stuck halfway up. No matter—he intended to saw today.
The sawmill's battery has needed to be jumped the last few days. And again today—we need a new battery. No matter: we have a van that Phil uses to jump it.
Phil sawed an 8' log. Hmm. The fuel line was leaking. So he went to check the owner's manual, knowing the whole time that there isn't a parts list. He did what he could, slowing the trickle to a drip, but besides being wasteful and stinky, who wants gas on their lumber?
Then he went to get one of the 16' logs. The tractor can only lift 1000 pounds, and those 16' logs would not budge. Aaahhhh! That would require dragging the log near the mill, then hoisting one end, then the other. Possible, but really annoying.
So he called the mill manufacturers. They'll try to find a parts list to mail him; whenever that arrives, then he can order the part. Ridiculous. Infuriating. Nothing we can do.
Rather than go back to bed, he headed to do some errands. The bright spot in his life was that, because our local cell tower is going to be decommissioned soon, we need a new service provider. We tried a flip-top phone, but the service here wasn't as good as we'd prefer. So today he got iPhone.
I'm a technophobe, and not a fan of smart phones as a rule, but I must say—two bars of reception inside the motor home—that's amazing. Usually if we get a call there, we dash outside while we say hello, and hope the call doesn't drop on us as we head outside. To actually have service there seems incredible.
Cute packaging, too!
The sawmill's battery has needed to be jumped the last few days. And again today—we need a new battery. No matter: we have a van that Phil uses to jump it.
Phil sawed an 8' log. Hmm. The fuel line was leaking. So he went to check the owner's manual, knowing the whole time that there isn't a parts list. He did what he could, slowing the trickle to a drip, but besides being wasteful and stinky, who wants gas on their lumber?
Then he went to get one of the 16' logs. The tractor can only lift 1000 pounds, and those 16' logs would not budge. Aaahhhh! That would require dragging the log near the mill, then hoisting one end, then the other. Possible, but really annoying.
So he called the mill manufacturers. They'll try to find a parts list to mail him; whenever that arrives, then he can order the part. Ridiculous. Infuriating. Nothing we can do.
Rather than go back to bed, he headed to do some errands. The bright spot in his life was that, because our local cell tower is going to be decommissioned soon, we need a new service provider. We tried a flip-top phone, but the service here wasn't as good as we'd prefer. So today he got iPhone.
I'm a technophobe, and not a fan of smart phones as a rule, but I must say—two bars of reception inside the motor home—that's amazing. Usually if we get a call there, we dash outside while we say hello, and hope the call doesn't drop on us as we head outside. To actually have service there seems incredible.
Cute packaging, too!
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