So, you may find it hard to believe, but I’m a few days behind with this business. But I’ll try to post this and the other two segments that are nearly ready and now already in the past for those of us in this hemisphere in the next day or so.
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Get the youngsters and the popcorn and gather round the warm glow of the computer screen, and let yourselves go.
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George, the electrician, came by to set in the conduit. It will be in the slab and so the electrical works will be ready to go when we build the walls. Sometime folks wait and then chip the concrete out to run the wiring. Didn\'t make must sense to me to do that. Those are our little cement spacing blocks with the wires in them that you saw in an earlier posting. They keep the BRC off the ground so it will be in the middle of the slab when it\'s poured.
George\'s helper putting the bent conduit in place.
We use the same wiring method as with the BRC. A doubled, \"U\" shaped wire twisted with a large nail.
Our heating element to bend the fixed piping over at the top to prevent anything getting down there and plugging up the works.
That\'s Huntington making the rounds, heating and bending as he goes.
This is George, the electrician, using the same sophisticated heating element to improvise a connector that was accidentally left off the order.
He heated the end of the long pipe, took a a short piece of the same pipe and stretched the end accept the other long pipe just like the adapter would have.
During the conduit fest, the hundred bags of cement that I ordered from Halleluliah Hardware showed up, and some of our guys started unloading. The bags are really dusty with fine concrete powder, so the guys opt for either the mysterious monk/Eyes Wide Shut look,
or the racier see-through plastic bag Project Runway outfit. They both also help because the cement happened to be still hot from the factory.
Evans thinks I\'m a little looney pulling this camera out of the pouch on my belt and blasting away. Most would say he\'s on to something.
The view inside the lorry that delivered the dusty stuff. That\'s our guy, Obam, on the right.
One of the monks stacking the 110 pound sacks in our container.
The hardcore stacking and smashing marathon continued on the outdoor dining area.
And our best bridge yet, a three-part movable job, was taking shape under Opyo\'s skilled eye, and Murafu\'s upturned bottom.
Obam was still blowing the cement powder out of his nose.
We use 12 pound sledge hammers and we have been breaking the handles off like twigs. So I got a 20\' length of 1\" pipe called black pipe. Very strong stuff. And Gilbert and I cut some handle lengths which Gilbert then cut eight half inch grooves in the top with a hack saw,
then pounded the next four inches oblong so it would fit through the opening in the hammer head, and then pounded the petals back into the lovely daisy pattern you see on the photo of the day. Now we have unbreakable, immovable, lifetime handles on our half dozen sledge hammers. That gives me real joy.
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Bless your little hearts,
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David
Comments(6)-
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Chris says
October 14, 2008 at 5:53 pmYes, your found love of stone is very evident in these photos, David. What I like is how you range the gamut from stone block to fine dust.
This isn’t the poem you were thinking of when we talked the other night, but it will do for now.
To the Stonecutters — by Robinson Jeffers
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you fore-defeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly:
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth dies, the brave sun
Die blind, his heart blackening:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained thoughts found
The honey peace in old poems.
Ed (Mike Edson) says
October 14, 2008 at 8:26 pmI once helped David rustle up some old brick from Gilbert, a teacher friend of David’s. We loaded up an International pick up truck called “Old Blue” with, if I recall correctly, two loads of that brick that we threw to each other to get them to the east side of Dave’s place for a walkway. One small lapse in concentration would have made for an immediate reminder that no thought was as important as the thought of the brick now airborne and begging to be caught. That was years ago, younger stronger years, that fade in the immensity of this present work. This building with stone being coached by the spirit of Nehemiah’s voice speaking stone upon stone.
Ed Richardson says
October 15, 2008 at 1:47 pmDave,
You’re becoming quite an engineer, making your own tools now (sledge hammers). Brilliant!! The place is looking good. Once the walls start up you’ll be amazed at what you have accomplished. (Not that you haven’t been already).
Ed Richardson
david says
October 17, 2008 at 7:59 amThanks Ed. For some reason, the sledge hammer handles thrilled me, inordinately so. But there you have once again solid proof…simple pleasures for simple minds.
David
david says
October 17, 2008 at 8:04 amCL,
Something comforting about Jeffers’ unflinching p.o.v. I haven’t thought much in terms of permanence in this building process, mostly expediencies, but…the kitchen may be around for a while. Thanks for the pinpoint.
David
david says
October 17, 2008 at 8:10 amHey Fred, Ed, Mike, my dear brother,
Those younger, stronger years were nice, and nicer as the distance between us and them widens. I think about running together mostly during that time. Man, I miss that. The bricks are still in place, each one having been successfully caught.
David
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