Dear Everybody,
You know that feeling, as you run down a hill, when you hit that point where you’re going so fast that your feet feel like they’re going to come out from under you and go in all directions? That’s been my summer.
I managed to stave off a faceplant until late in the season, when I could afford to take a bit of time to catch my breath without anything catching fire. I successfully supervised the completion of all of the major projects but one, or one and a fraction… I’m still waiting on that one, but it’s moving, and I’m already in a much better position for winter than I was last year.
I put out the call for work parties in August, and on one Saturday, the hordes descended: two cousins with kids and a spouse, my uncle, a fellow fiber enthusiast from town, and a long-time school friend and her partner from Washington. They tackled the living room and office with vigor, stripping the dust of ages off of loaded bookshelves, and boxing up the books in the office to go elsewhere. They dealt with several other projects where I needed a hand, including loading the old couch into the back of the truck, so it was no longer moldering on the front lawn. By the time the last of them left, the mold residue had been banished from the living room and dropped to a small fraction in the office, and I could cope with the rest.
I got a stove expert up to look at the woodstove, a very pleasant fellow who looked it over, nodded, said he could fix it easily, but he couldn’t touch it until it was brought up to code by installing a hearth pad. It stands on short legs, but those legs were directly on the old masonite floor, and the six inches of clearance didn’t meet fire code. So we ordered a steel plate rated for solid-fuel stoves, and I picked it up a few weeks later. Once it was installed (thanks to several people who showed up to the work party!) I had the expert come up again, and within a half hour he had the damper, elbow, and the short stretch of chimney above it replaced, the outside portion of the chimney swept, and everything tidied up. It should draw much better now, and with any luck it won’t leak carbon monoxide into the house. I have enough wood to last an average winter, and I have some more that still needs to be split, so I think I’m all right on that front. I even sharpened the new ax after Rue and a friend cut up a couple of fallen trees and stacked the rounds for me, and I’m making progress on turning that pile into something the stove can handle.
Kathyrn Jane and her son came up to work their wizardry on the Accord’s radiator, in the short space of time before work. It took two afternoon sessions, but finally the radiator was in! We filled it with coolant and I went to start it… and the new battery had gone flat, not having run long enough to charge up while I was moving it. In frustration, I ordered a battery tender and a jump battery, and charged it until I had a little time to work on it again. Then I fired up the engine, ready to top up the radiator, and watched as coolant trickled, then gushed, from a point just below the fill neck. Yeah—my replacement radiator had a crack in it.
I ordered another, and waited for it, but I knew getting further assistance was unlikely. Still, I had watched the first round pretty closely, all of the fasteners and hoses were loosened up, it shouldn’t be that hard. So I screwed up my courage and swapped it out again, but ran out of energy (and nerve) before dealing with the coolant. That took another couple of weeks. It was nerve-wracking, feeling like I needed to brace myself for the next thing to go wrong, with no one to coach me. At last, I added coolant, started the engine, and monitored it long enough for it to come up to temperature. The new thermostat worked better than the old, there was no trace of coolant anywhere it shouldn’t be, and the engine was running smoothly. Success!
It wasn’t until a few days later, when I drove it to the coast, that I discovered the climate control panel doesn’t work. It’s stuck on warm. I pulled fuses a week or so later, with the assistance of a multimeter, and there was no problem at the fuse box. So I get to pull the center of the dash apart, sometime before my windshield starts fogging up and I need the defrost functions. I’ve done a 6th gen Accord dash before, it’s more annoying than difficult. Fingers crossed that’s the last urgent thing. It seems to be running well otherwise.
Meanwhile, the culvert. I got a call from the county public works in the first few days of August, warning me they’d be stashing their equipment over the weekend and starting work on Monday or Tuesday. First thing Monday, there they were, digging out the last of the old concrete tunnel. I wandered down as they finished prepping the ditch; the foreman was casting about distractedly, and said he had dropped his Apple watch. I looked at the scene and winced. Was it in the creek under one of the 1-cubic-yard sandbags? In a sandbag? Under the scree that the front-loader had distributed from the piles that had been sitting around all winter? He couldn’t get a reliable GPS location, and there was no cell signal to get it to chirp. Finally, I told him he could use my wifi from the turnoff 40 feet up the road, and we could listen for it. He came back waving excitedly: it had dropped off his wrist next to his truck. Smiles all around.
It helped my cause the next day when I asked the crew to extend the gravel they were spreading up to the mailbox, to eliminate the muddy ditch that has been annoying the mail carrier for years. They readily agreed. By the time they finished up, the entrance to the foot of the driveway, leading up to where the BLM road forks off, was so wide and level I felt like dancing across it. It’s marvelous, and beautiful, and able to handle any dump truck or grader that needs to cross. It’s wide enough for two.
Speaking of wide, the culvert they put in was 5 foot ABS plastic, replacing 3 foot concrete. This is an 80-year fix, I think, and it won’t clog easily if at all.
Jenny’s shed was installed in mid-July, but I struggled to find a painter who was available in the 30-day window required by the warranty, even when I started trying them weeks in advance of installation. Finally we had the local handyman slap some paint on it so I could beat the documentation deadline; he added another coat later, and then painted the floor. I was caulking where the floor meets the wall (waterproofing is good) when I discovered the floor had sagged on one side, opening up a 1-inch gap between the floor and the wall. I called the installers, who (according to Jenny) sent someone in to jack it up and effect repairs in the early morning. So that should be all settled. I’m using it to store some of the books and such that are coming down from the house, so she can sort through them before we clear it out again in the spring. She’d like a partition for chickens; we’ll see how that goes.
Finally, the driveway bridge. I spoke to the local fire marshal, who handed me off to the state fire marshal, as we’re outside the district. He was very helpful, and told me that we need documentation that the replacement bridge can handle at least 75,000 pounds if we want an ambulance or fire equipment to cross it. At that point, I went back to my notes and started calling engineers again. After a few calls I hit on a structural engineer who listened pleasantly to my plight, and said he had a bridge he was working up in Salem that sounded nearly identical. That would give him a leg up so that he might be able to accelerate the process—everyone has been very aware that the winter storms are just around the corner. He came up, took some measurements, got the contractor’s information, and got started.
A month later, I spoke with the contractor, who said that he and the Department of State Lands were just waiting on the engineering plans to make sure the footings would be adequate for the new bridge. He did tell me that DSL considers the bridge replacement to be a matter of safety (as it’s the access for emergency vehicles), and they might extend the window for working in the waterway if necessary. I called the engineer and asked for an update, but didn’t hear anything.
A week after that—just this Tuesday—an invoice came through from the engineering firm. My uncle went to pay it in person (as he tends to do), and the engineer showed him the nearly complete draft. So it’s all but finished, and paid for, and we should still have about a month for the contractor to get DSL on board, collect the materials, and schedule the work. I might have a solid bridge this winter!
So that’s the one major project still pending. The office is mostly cleared (I did more earlier this week) and aired out, but it needs the boxes to be hauled away, and it definitely needs to be scrubbed. I don’t know how much use I’ll get out of it this winter, as it’s on the north side of the house with no good source of heat, but at least I’ll have a place to store my craft supplies. Maybe if I set up my desk again and play enough video games the gaming rig will heat it…
I went to the Black Sheep Gathering, a fiber festival, at the end of June. My excuse was that I was picking up the yarn I had ordered from the Eugene Textile Center, saving myself $20 in shipping. I came away with a satisfying day of fiber geekery, some modest fiber samples (I have alpaca, flax, and angora goat now), and the yarn. I warped the floor loom at long last on the Fourth of July, and set to weaving my first set of towels. I’m done with four of six, now, and working to finish up before it gets too cold to work in the Annex… it’s been a good shakedown cruise, and I’m getting better at the skill of weaving (and fixing the loom). I’m looking forward to starting a new project in the spring. Until then, it’s the lap loom over the winter; I ordered some yarn for that just the other day. Watch my ko-fi store, I’ll be listing some towels and dishcloths.
The city-wide garage sales happened on a scorching weekend at the end of July, and I spent more than I had planned. In my defense, it’s not every day you find a $700 electric dryer with maybe two years on it at a garage sale. I snapped it up for $100, which set the tone for the rest of the weekend… a pristine modern folding camp cot for $30, a nice new webcam for $20, and a small vintage table saw for… free. The guy upgraded to a modern one, and couldn’t get anyone to take something that old and small, but he said it had served his dad before him, and runs fine. It has a cast-iron deck and a good (if obscure) brand from the 50s. So, all told, at the end of the weekend I was $300 poorer, but I had close to $1500 in new equipment. Score!
Remember when I said that I had caught a bunch of yellowjacket queens this spring, and I expected it to be a bad year? I caught 17 before the end of the queen season, and I did miss some. One made a nest in the upper parking area, which I found (the hard way) the day before people were due to arrive for the work party. In desperation, I poured a pot of boiling water laced with dish soap and orange oil on it that night… that worked, fortunately. But there are still two or three large nests out there I haven’t found. The ground below the William’s Pride apple was swarming like a beehive a couple of weeks ago, and I had to go out at night, with a bucket of soapy water, to drown the laggards who were still hanging on to partially-eaten apples. In the last round of warm weather I had to look down every time I walked anywhere to make sure I didn’t step on a yellowjacket, and even with the doors and windows closed I was accumulating up to a half-dozen indoors every day. I felt like I was under siege.
The casement window still hasn’t been mounted next to the woodstove (it’s wedged in from the inside right now). At the work party I discovered the hinges I bought had screws so small they popped through the hinge holes(!). When I attached another set of hinges, I found the Himrod grapevine on that wall was teeming with yellowjackets, attracted to whatever young fruit had been damaged or split. I may have to harvest the black grapes at night, and hope that by the time the Himrod ripens the weather will have put most of the wasps to bed.
I’m told I wasn’t the only one having a problem… when I went to buy more yellowjacket traps, the hardware store was out, and the warehouse couldn’t keep them in stock. The clerk said one of his neighbors had ten traps, and they were filling every two hours. I’ll count my blessings.
The garden did well, all things considered. The garlic harvest was extremely satisfying. I’m getting ripe tomatoes, despite having planted them late, and the Kraken hybrid is pumping out more than enough zucchini to keep me happy. The Asian cabbages made very good kimchi, and I’ve done the same with all but the last few green cabbages. The kale has a nasty case of aphids, but that should clear up (where are the wasps when you need them?). The lettuce bolted, for the most part, but I made very tasty pickled lettuce that I’m still enjoying (try it sometime, it takes the bitterness out). The broccoli did well for quite a while, and the parsnips are going wild. And I’m getting a lot of dill, which lets me build up a stock of dried dill for later… it’s hard to buy stuff that has any flavor, and it’s absurdly expensive.
I had a few failures, as usual (no cucumbers or beans), and we’ll see whether the fall brassicas went in too late, but for a year where I decided that if I got anything it would be a small miracle, it’s been pretty darned good. I should see about planting the garlic by the end of the month, which means digging the potato bed; we’ll see how they did.
The weather has been moderate this summer, especially compared to the rest of the country. Dry, yes, since the rains stopped early, but I didn’t have last year’s problem where the spring water got so concentrated there was too much potassium to be drinkable. We had a few light rains here and there, enough to keep things from dying. I was woken up one night during fire season by a spectacular thunderstorm, and my nerves kept me up until dawn, working on my evac supplies and waiting to smell smoke. The storm brought enough rain to suppress the risk, though, and the one a few days later quenched even some of the terrible fires that had been burning at the southern edge of the state. By September 1st the weather turned decidedly cool and damp, and by now I’m looking at rain all next week and muttering about thermal curtains.
And, finally, Arthur Dent (the barn cat) has discovered that maybe domestication has its upsides after all. As the weather cools, he’s coming in through the cat door more and more; I just started feeding him indoors, rather than on the front porch. He gets up on my lap now, and the other day he discovered Cricket’s pedestal. Such luxury had him purring steadily for an hour. So I’m no longer worried he’ll spend a freezing winter in self-imposed exile under the house.
Cricket is wary, and unimpressed, and occasionally has some impolite words to say to Artie… but she’s not driving him out. Maybe, someday, they’ll have a real truce. With the speed at which Artie is learning how to cat, I think that may be sooner rather than later.
What’s next? Slowing down, hopefully. I’m processing a bunch of apples, and getting ready for the rainy season. I think I need to catch my breath before I make any plans.
Check out the Google photo album, I put a bunch more (captioned!) pics in there. And I’ll be back at the Winter Solstice in late December, to give you a wrap-up for the year. Be well!