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.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)