One step at a time.

I got a lot of woodcutting done yesterday but was super tired for the whole rest of the day which told me I was rushing a bit fast and asking to hurt myself again. So even though I rolled out of bed with all manner of grandiose plans to finish the whole thing today, over breakfast I decided ‘no, I’m not going near the woodlot today. Instead, I’ll do that little thing I promised Landlady.’

And that sent me back to the far innards of Ian’s Cave.


This summer got weird to the point where I honest don’t remember whether I wired this outlet and light this year or last. Either way, it was in preparation for the new water heater and softener, and guess what? It’s on the wrong side of Ian’s utility closet. So this morning, after putting myself on light duty for the day, I wandered over with my tool tote and corrected that.


A very simple job but I was still pleased with myself for how quick and easy it went. When I moved here I was very unsure of myself when it came to wiring things. Now poking steel tools into a breaker box is just part of a minor chore.

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Our little green-egg laying machine

We have one Araucana (or possibly Ameraucana, not sure) hen that came as an oddball with the dozen Leghorns Neighbor S bought two years ago. I call her Oddball Girl because she’s definitely the odd chicken out and spends a lot of time engaged in righteous self-imposed social distancing. And I forgot to take a picture of her for this post but what brought her to mind was this…


In her first year I was in favor of culling her, because she was always the one spazzing out and getting picked on by all the other hens. Generally those are more trouble than they’re worth. But in their second year all the Leghorns have been really stingy with their eggs for some reason neither S nor I can figure out – but Oddball Girl drops one per day, almost every day, always in the same spot.

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Almost done.

This unexpectedly turned into a good morning for woodcutting.


I got all the loose pallet parts and all the old lumber I collected from that cleanup gig chopped to stove lengths…


…and it made a surprising pile in the trailer. I didn’t expect it to go on so long but I needed to clear those last six pallets.


As of this morning, my minimum goal is reached. With so little to go before just finishing off all the wood in the lot, it would be stupid to stop now. I’ll end up with about four and a half full tiers, which is more than enough for five solid months of the worst winter I ever saw.

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Before enlightenment chop wood, haul garbage.

Sorry about the blank spot. It’s not that nothing’s going on, it’s just that the things that are going on are just like the things that went on before them.

I’ve been demolishing pallets and then chopping the pieces to stove lengths.


There’s only so much you can say about that, and I think I’ve probably said it all. The project will come to an end soon, if I stick with it, through a lack of pallets left to demolish. Rejoicing will be heard in the land.

I got a brief gig from some new part-time neighbors to clean up trash left from old neighbors. This was just a whole bunch of back-and-forth, then sorting through the trash for the good stuff. I could probably have scored a bunch of old fasteners, judging from what fell out of several (many) very heavy black plastic bags, but I decided early on that the effort and mess made wouldn’t be worth it. So I pulled out obviously useful stuff like old lumber and PVC and such, and consolidated the rest into one immensely heavy trip to the dump which I got out of my life yesterday.

Some of the haul, I gave away…


The pipe in particular went to the new neighbors who are basically camping on their land and constantly improving goat and chicken housing. Not sure what they’re about, but they indicated they could certainly make use of pipe no matter how long it had laid in the sun. They got the old solar power system and well working so they have water now, with a couple of 300 gallon tote tanks barely off the ground. So their supply is hardly more than a trickle but rigging waterers still beats the hell out of hauling buckets for goats.

Today I hoped to cut and stack wood in the morning and hang out in the afternoon. Now it looks like D&L want to go to the dollar store this morning and I do too, so I may have to postpone sloth. Or maybe not: The end of woodcutting really is in sight and I may give my back a break. Depends how I feel when I get to the woodlot. Which is where I’m going right now.

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With apologies to the Woodpile Report…


…I made pretty good progress today. Got all the loose stuff cut up, which made for three solid wheelbarrow loads.


Which, after stacking, brought the third new tier up over halfway. It’s a nice calm cool day and I’d go back to work with the Sawzall to make more loose stuff, except I picked up an unexpected hauling gig that I have to do instead. That gig will result in at least a little old lumber for the woodshed, so it’s all good.

Also, with my other hand I’ve almost finished the first new door bar…


Coming along very nicely. The limiting factor, to my surprise, is the battery life of the cordless belt sander I borrowed for the job. I can only work it a few minutes at a time, then have to give it two hours or more to cool off and recharge. So that job’s going slower than I expected, but it’s going.

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Learning to trust the instruments…

We had this discussion several years ago, I could probably find it if I cared to search long enough – every now and then the water supply system fails, it has found several ways to do it, and while I accept that Murphy will occasionally stick his finger in my soup I was very dissatisfied with the fact that my first clue was always the tank running completely dry. I wanted a warning. There’s 2500 gallons of water in that tank and the idea of a warning just didn’t seem unreasonable to me. But I couldn’t think of one on my own.

Which is why, when the float switch on the pump circuit failed a few years ago so that the pump wouldn’t automatically turn off, I considered it a good thing: It forced me to stop on my way past the tank a couple of times a week, climb up a ladder, and physically look inside the tank at the water level. My driveway goes right past it, it’s not out of my way. And when the level was low enough, I would walk to the pump house, not far, and manually turn the pump on. This worked for me, I’m already out and about a lot.

There was, as I said, blog discussion on the topic of better more elegant ways to determine the tank level than climbing a ladder, spinning the lid off, and looking inside. Maybe four years ago Big Brother sent me a gigantic pressure gauge on the theory that water level in the tank would affect pipe pressure slightly but significantly enough that it would show on a big enough gauge, a truly steampunk solution that appealed to me. It meant tearing out the undersink plumbing so I didn’t get around to installing it until I had to replace the faucet anyway, but it went into place in April 2019. And a little experimentation confirmed that the theory was sound in practice: The gauge does react – slightly but noticeably – to changes in tank level. This past summer I learned what the gauge would read when the tank was almost completely empty, as it was necessary to empty the tank for Ian’s water pump project. Good to know.

And last winter I found an unexpected add-on benefit of having the gauge so handy, since it will of course also react to freeze-related breaks in the Lair’s plumbing, something to which the Lair is prone. But for its primary purpose it wasn’t really all that useful because I was still in the habit of stopping at the top of the ridge, looking inside the tank, and manually switching the pump on or off as needed.

UNTIL this summer, when I learned to my surprise that the plumber who (sort of, long story) installed Ian’s water pump was apparently offended by my non-functional float switch and fixed it without telling me. It took me a while to relax to its sudden reappearance; I hadn’t asked for it and didn’t consider it a plus because I liked the “verify” part of trust but verify.

Which is a longwinded way of saying I’m kind of thrown back on accepting that I can verify a full tank by simply glancing at that big goofy gauge on my sink.

Sorry about the photo quality but max pressure is in the morning and the light is all wrong.


For some reason I never understood, the pressure is slightly temperature-sensitive and is highest first thing in the morning when everything is cool. It drops about a pound over the course of the day. But if it reads 19 1/2 pounds first thing in the morning or 18 1/2 later in the day, the tank is definitely full – and that’s all I need to know. I just have to relax and rely on physics, and I can stop climbing that damned shaky ladder every other day.

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Nothing worse than a friendly tarantula hawk…

…and then this morning I was cutting wood, right? And things were going okay but I wasn’t running at quite 100% and was kind of looking for an excuse to knock off and go ahead and stack what I already had in the trailer.

And then this guy came by, and Would Not Go Away.


I’m pretty sure it’s a male – the females are really big and have bright red wings. And fortunately they’re not especially hostile or aggressive but they can be persistent, and what they want they take because they have like the worst sting in the entire insect kingdom. And they’re so well armored you can drop a big book on them and only piss them off – and it’s just really important not to piss them off.

So I finally went away and let him have the saw if he wanted it. I was kind of tired of it for the morning anyway.

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Water heater *mostly* installed…

Wow, yesterday was a busy one…

We started a little after 7:30 and didn’t knock off until almost five. The problem with building an underground house is that you have to plan things like utility venting long in advance – and we sort of didn’t. Things got complex – but we almost finished. We didn’t run out of want-to, we just ran out of time and energy.

The job is still a few hours away from completion but we got far enough to know that the gadget works – or at least tries to; it doesn’t have any gas pressure yet.

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Wow, I can be dim sometimes…

When the Lair’s addition went up 3 years ago I included a back door for convenience and fire safety. But the door I had to work with didn’t have a cutout for a deadbolt and the lock on the knob left a lot to be desired. Rather than invest in a hole jig and maybe screw up my only door, I went old school.


That worked so well I ended up doing the same thing on the front door*. Those brackets are sized for a 2X4 but the application really calls for hardwood. Except nobody, at least nobody within my traveling range, sells hardwood lumber – and I got some funny looks when I enquired. Finally just relaxed about it – but I won’t say it didn’t bug me a little.

Then this morning I was cutting up pallets for firewood…

That loose pile was once 9 pallets, and the intact ones you see are all there are left so I’ll know pretty definitely when the project is finished – and when the Lair’s woodstove goes on a juniper diet.


…and I happened to be cutting up an especially nice hardwood one…


And I hefted one of the nice clean stringers in my hand and thought, ‘wow, that must weigh seven or eight pounds and it’s only four feet long. Lots of nice heat in that baby…’

When the older wiser voice in my head that doesn’t come around very often mused, ‘Four feet? Weren’t you looking for two 4-foot hardwood 2X4s?’


Dummy! That should have been the first thing I noticed about them. Gonna need a lot of sanding to get them less splintery, though…


*Yeah, and if you think that sounds extreme I won’t argue. But weird things can happen in the boonies – Not far from the Lair there once was a guy who lived not so differently from me…until some nutjob murdered him in his bed. His situation wasn’t exactly like mine: He was more public than I am and a rather unpleasant character. But I know of nothing he did that deserved a whacking. And you can’t defend your own sleep, so anything that delays and loudens a forcible entry is good. I don’t have even the illusion of cops to defend me.

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This retirement business is too much like work.

Hopefully this “all these things I gotta do, all these places I gotta go” nonsense is coming to a middle. I made what ought to be the last trip in my back-and-forth gig this morning…


…and can bid adieu to the Bumpy Road for a while. I was supposed to help D&L with a dump run this morning but they decided it was such a pretty day they would rather go riding because Winter Is Coming. So they postponed till this afternoon, which was fine with me because I really fell down on my woodcutting promises during the middle of this week. So I was able to cut straight past the Lair to pick up the generator…


…and get back to firewood.

Despite feeling like a slacker, I set my goals pretty low for this week and really have hit them…


I have two full tiers stacked now, which puts me 2/3 of the way toward my pledged minimum and halfway to my stretch goal, which considering that my back is holding up pretty well is looking more and more likely. The Lair is small and most winter days it gets a lot of solar gain from that big south-facing window – not to mention I cheat and heat the new bedroom with propane. So on an average winter each of those tiers of mostly hardwood planking will last for a good month. If I can get five tiers total before December, that’s way more than I’ve ever burned in any one winter.

Anyway, now I can have a sit-down and a meal, then early afternoon I’ll help D&L load garbage into their truck and out at the county dump. In return for that, I get to empty one of my full trash barrels which will ease pressure on that front. It’s already strapped into the Jeep trailer.

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Last trip to the Palace of Food…

A long ride in D&L’s truck, followed by about an hour’s unsnarling plastic wrap, results in the most suburban food stash ever in the history of the Secret Lair…


Between a bunch of gasoline and this I’d be broke for the rest of the month, except I should have a nice payday coming for all the back-and-forthing I’ve been doing.

This has proven a nice thing to start a winter on, although with the parallel cabin improvements it’s not as useful as it would have been 10 years ago when winter meant being pretty much nonstop cold for five months. When you’re cold and you know you’re going to stay that way, a bellyful of warm meat is more for the spirit than the body.

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Okay, I needed a good laugh…

h/t

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The horse gets a vote.

This is Doc, Neighbor D’s new riding horse.


Doc is a very fine fellow. Smart, friendly, well-trained – and even in a seller’s market D got him at a fairly good price because when it came to doing his actual job, Doc said no. Apparently Doc said hell no.

I’ve noticed, since moving here and having more to do with horses, that horses have one thing in common with guns: They are seriously misrepresented in the movies. Movies treat horses as if they’re basically sports cars with hair. Like machines, they never do anything off the script. In life, horses are sentient animals who can’t read the script and wouldn’t care if they could. They can be cooperative – usually are or they’d be of no use – but they have individual likes and dislikes and they’re aware that they’re bigger and stronger than you are and really can’t be forced.

Doc was bred, raised and trained to be a rodeo roping horse. He took well to training, he likes being ridden, he doesn’t shy at ropes being swung over his head (a big potential problem,) puts up well with trailering and he has no respect for cattle. All fine traits. He seemed on his way to a high price followed by a successful career…


Until he actually got to a rodeo. Rodeos are loud, bustling things with all sorts of hurry and tension and excited animals. Lots of horses like those things. Doc decided that he hated rodeos. Hated them to the point where you could put him in a chute, release a steer, open his own chute … and he’d just stand there. He knew what he was supposed to do, and would do it fine in training. But in an actual rodeo he refused absolutely.

Well…what are his trainers supposed to do then? He’s far too much of an investment to send south to fill dogfood cans. They figured he’d do fine in a quieter setting, and so far he really has. He has settled right in to being a riding horse for a retired couple who live ‘way back in the desert and love to spoil horses rotten. It apparently fits right in with his ambitions.

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Random Gulchy Moments


I’m doing a twice-a-day gig to T&S’s place right now, which I’d kind of like to use the bike for because at least the afternoons are gorgeous right now. Unless I take the Bumpy Road up to the plateau, and I keep forgetting to take a new pic of the road but it hasn’t improved in the past year, that means seven miles of this each way…


…and since I still haven’t been able to put the Jeep’s rear window back on I need a bath just from the trip, never mind from doing any actual work. The bike would actually be perfect for this except that most of the job is on top of their mesa, and even the Jeep can only just get up there.

I took a break from wood-cutting yesterday, declaring it baking day.


With the weather so mild the bread baking didn’t really prevent me from cutting wood, it was just an excuse. But I was back at it this morning.

I’ve mentioned this before, but if you get tired of working around heavy things that can (and do) bonk you on the head and don’t want to go full ‘why is he wearing a helmet,’ consider getting a cheap bump cap.


You just stick it inside a baseball cap…


…and you’re covered for mild knocks on the noggin. I’ve used this one for a year or two and can testify that it really does work. I also keep an actual skateboard helmet in the jeep kit and even use it sometimes, but it’s kind of overkill for situations where you’re cutting that last plank off a pallet and the hardwood stringer is probably going to swing down and contact your pate with some degree of discomfort. Speaking of pates, if you’re somewhat follically challenged you might want to tie a bandana around your head to keep the plastic from uncomfortably contacting your skin-covered skull.

A word about the new cell signal booster…


…and the word is Excellent! It really has made a dramatic difference. Haven’t tested it in nasty weather yet but even then it’s bound to at least be an improvement.

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Got an early start this morning…

I went to do chicken chores a little before seven, then straight up the Bumpy Road and across the plateau to T&S’s place. Happily the Jeep is currently in good health more or less, notwithstanding the bits that keep falling off the body.

T&S went off on a trip sometime late yesterday and their dogs were in a rather pathetic state of meltdown. I expected that, one reason I wanted to visit them early. Got them propitiated and the horse fed, then went straight up to the woodlot by way of the Lair to pick up the generator.


I could have put more in the trailer but the more I haul the more I have to stack, so I took the extra time to cut up more pallets.


As expected, my once-impressive collection of pallets is melting away. I believe I have enough to last through next winter but no more. Have to get more proactive about collection, but alas the building boom of several years ago is no more so I don’t have neighbors clamoring for me to take them away.


But I’m making good progress in refilling the woodshed. I’m officially more than half done with the minimum I pledged to do, and it’s only the second of October.

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Oh, break out the popcorn, boys and girls…

Trump’s got the Virus of Inevitable Doom.

Cue MSM meltdown in 3…2…oh, who am I kidding. I was probably the last person to know.

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The only guy who could get me to watch…

…any part of a ‘debate’ between The Only Two Individuals In The Whole Frickin’ Nation Qualified To Be President Of The United States, ladies and gentlemen! (we’re doomed)

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First of the month, and…

…a bit of a frosty one, by our standards. That’ll change as soon as the sun clears the ridge, of course, but…


…it was cheering to be able to note that I’m officially 1/3 done with the minimum I promised to accomplish before actual (not official) winter. I’ve always had a problem with the weatherman’s insistence on using the solstices and equinoxes to mark the start of seasons; if you haven’t frozen your ass solid long before the official start of winter, you’re doing something right.

I’m supposed to get back on the Sawzall this morning and trash some more pallets, but I don’t know how much I’ll actually accomplish. I hit my goal yesterday but was tired and out of sorts all day and never accomplished another blessed thing, and today is battery day plus the usual chicken chores and such. Then Friday through Wednesday I have another twice-a-day T&S back and forth. So I’ll cut wood if only to keep in the “I’m cutting firewood now” mindset, but I plan to be gentle with myself as to how much I actually accomplish. Happily I’m ahead of where I expected to be on October 1; it takes a lot of those skinny little billets to make a tier.

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I want my rear window back…

It’s that time of year – I’m wearing layers and gloves while waiting for the sun to clear the horizon, and will leave a trail of textiles till I’m in a t-shirt before noon. I want to go cut wood in the window between uncomfortably cold and uncomfortably hot, so I was doing some prep stuff like loading the generator into the Jeep to take it to the woodlot…


…and as I opened the tailgate I grumbled, “I just vacuumed you out.” No, I didn’t spill any of that dirt in the back of the Jeep – it all went in there on its own. I’m waiting for one more mail-order part before I can repair and re-mount the rear window, and I can hardly wait.

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If you want to be the last person able to buy ammo during a panic…

Your pistol calibers are .32 ACP and .41 Magnum.


At least judging from the ammo available at the local drug store. 🙂

I was surprised to see they actually got in a little .223 Remington.


And for a wonder they haven’t yet run out of 22lr. Though pound for pound you’re probably better off buying gold.

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