How did you enjoy Ellie’s blog?

She had so much fun. Sometimes she is a little hard to understand so I had to have her repeat what she said. It was especially bad when she was talking about the deer carcass. She was drooling a bit.

Ellie’s owner and my boss came with a couple of friends to spend the weekend. Shot guns. Burned sofas. Drank Beer. Swam in lake. But they really did not make much of a mess and it was good that they burned the sofas (3 of them) as I couldn’t fit them into the truck without removing its bed “cap” so their pyrotechnics solved that problem.

Found lots of staples in the ashes – I am learning so much about so many different things. How septic tanks work, how toilets are installed, how windows are glazed, how fast tractors can go, how many staples are in a couch. This stuff could be really useful someday. Maybe?

I went to the second major pawn shop in town. Did I mention them before? You know, the one that is closed on Wednesday? Well, it was Monday and they were open. I went in. Three fellows were talking at the counter and didn’t pay me “no nevermind” so I poked around a bit. Lots and lots and LOTS of guns. I asked one of the young men if they had any Winchester 300s and he said they had “a lot” of them. See, I said they had lots.

He said he had a number of different manufacturers of the 300 but I said I was only interested in the Winchester. I don’t know guns. I just read that this was a good deer rifle. Maybe I can shoot a deer for Ellie someday as she seems quite keen towards them. It is a bolt action, single cartridge rifle. I slid the bolt. I peered through the scope. I felt like a real idiot but at least I did point the gun at the floor instead of the clerk. Figured that (1) he might be a wee bit uncomfortable with a gun pointing at his heart, and (2) he would know the same thing that I knew – I know nothing about guns. But I smiled and said something inane like “nice piece” and gave it back to him. Need to return with a friend who knows guns. Low priority.

What I am really looking for is holes. I figure that the log cabin is going to have about 900 holes drilled into all the logs. The way you build the cabin is to stack one log on top of another, drill through the top log every 18″ and then drive a “stake” through the top log (easy because of the hole) and into the heart of the log below. Right to the middle of the log. That holds the logs together and when they shrink (they always shrink) the log sort of floats where it is instead of settling. Other methods can lead to shrinking of the height of the cabin by 2-3 inches.

Possible conversation with Abe Lincoln and his wife Mary Todd:

“Welcome home sweetheart. How was your day? You know, you look taller today, more manly. Do you think that all this great country living and farming is increasing your stature?”

“Nope. Cabin is shrinking, makes me look taller.”

So, 900 holes with 900 pieces of rebar (1/2″ steel rod – you might have seen them in concrete) should hold this cabin together. To drill 900 holes takes a “Tim ‘The Toolman’ Taylor” type drill. Argh, Argh! One such drill is called the “Hole Hawg”. I almost want to buy it just for the name. $125. That works out to about $.13 per hole.

Do you think I should pay the $125 or bargain? I can do that: “Nice looking Hole Hawg you got. Times are slow. Construction industry in the toilet. I’ll give you $50. Cash.”

Went to the bank to get debit card. Had to wait. And wait. One bank agent was working with a lady, the other agent was finishing with a separate client. She then went to help the first agent. The customer left and got her mother out of the car. They returned and continued the discussion. Four people. I was sitting in one of their stuffed chairs with my big black boots, camo pants and my now becoming favorite shirt that says “Take a Hike”. Oh yeah.

I practice my passive face. I see that a lot around here. Sort of like yoga, just relax, relax, relax and look numb. Seems to work for some. Let your mind drift. Your eyes unfocus. Umm, Umm. Seem to be getting the hang of it. Certainly nothing else to do, just sit and wait.

10 minutes later, my relaxation session is completed and a banker calls to me. I am next. (I wondered if they would charge me for a yoga consultation.) Got the card. Now off to my #1 store, Home Depot followed by a bracing trip to Walmart.

I really need to focus. Maybe the blank stares I see is intense concentration, not relaxation. (Make a note to work on intense concentration next time in bank.) I needed a drain and some piping for a makeshift sink that is rapidly becoming a feature of my existence at the pole barn. Someday I’ll write about the sink – it has its own story.

Not wanting the water in the sink to run right onto my feet, I planned to get some pipes to run it into the creek. Of course, if any “greenies” are reading, I am only using biodegradable soap that doubles as food in emergencies. No problem. Chill. It’s not like I am URINATING into the creek.

Went down to the tractor (remember, YANMAR) dealer to say “hi” and they were closed. ??? Randomness seems to rule many business hours around here. “Out To Lunch. Will Be Back When I Return”

Well, the Home Depot aide was very friendly. He pointed out that I could save money buying straight pipe and gluing it together instead of buying pre-assembled and fitted pieces. Good point. Good customer service. I was wondering what his boss would save about the guy costing the store about $15 in sales.

He was so anxious to help that he pulled all the pieces out – 45 degree angles x 2, 10 foot piece of 2″ pipe, and glue. I selected a fancy plastic pipe cutter. He suggested that most home owners bought the cheaper model. I had to insist on the better one. I am, after all, a home BUILDER not just a garden variety home owner. Pleeze!

Got back to the bungalow (the new name for the inaptly named pole barn) and the sink. Pulled out my glue, my pipes, the drain. Situation – 1 1/2″ pipe from the drain, 2″ everthing else! So, now I have to return the 2″ pipe and get 1 1/2″ replacements; hence my need for focus.

In the meantime, the sink continues to dribble onto my boot.

On Tuesday, I gathered all the trash up on the property and had stuffed it into the back of the pickup. Needed to find the county dump and one of the bankers told me it was about 2 miles south of town on Hwy 19 but she didn’t know for sure because she was from Zebulon (a vast 9 miles distant).

So I drove down what I thought to be Hwy 19. And drove. Lot farther than 2 miles but I figured that she might not be good with distances or math. I looked for highway signs saying 19. Nothing. Drove some more. Still nothing. Turned around after about 15 minutes, drove back towards town. I saw a promising landfill sign, did another u-turn and drove up a smaller road. Looking good as it was a rather nasty, industrial area. All of a sudden a sign loomed “NO PRIVATE VEHICLES PAST THIS POINT”. In smaller type below, “Violators Will Be Shot With a Winchester”.

Pleasant.

Had to turn the truck around. Again. That baby is really loooong too. I see three guys talking in the parking lot of a building to the side of the road. I pull in. I ask “where is the dump?” and he says “what kind of trash do you have?” Wow, I thought, they differentiate their trash here. What are my choices? Kitchen trash, yard refuse, designer trash? I say just things like barbed wire, trash cans, sofa skeletons, etc.

He looked at me warily. Maybe he just heard “skeletons”. “Out Waymanville Road,” he directs.

“Waymanville?” I was excited. Waymanville runs behind my property. Way behind, but behnd nonetheless. My driving was almost over. “I can find that” I assured him and backed up and turned around again and left.

Hungry, I decided to go to the local ice cream and burger shop. The building had caught my attention because it was newly remodeled (I wonder what was there before). Anything new in this town is a curiosity, so off I go.

They had a speaker box and drive up service. I stopped at the box. Chili dog – $2.11. Chili Dog Combo – $5.41.

I asked, “what is in the combo?” Voice said “What?”

I asked, “what’s in the combo?” “What?”

I asked, “Why is the combo $3.30 more than just the plain chili dog?” Voice said “What? Could you drive to the window please.”

So I drove to the window. I looked at the turn around the building that I was going to have to navigate. I said, “My truck can’t make that turn, I’ll have to park and come in.”

She said “What?”

I smiled and backed the truck up. I didn’t want to say anything to force her to delve more deeply into her apparently limited vocabulary. I parked. I entered.

I love entrepreneurs. The owner/manager was standing behind the counter with three people. I asked him what was in the combo.  “Soft drink and fries, ” he said.

I asked why it was $3.30 more. The answer, “because it includes a soft drink and fries.”

Reaching back into my recent training in calmness in the bank, I politely asked “how much is a coke?” $1.79 was the reply. “How much are the fries?” $1.59. So I save $.08 with the combo! Wow. Thinking that they were asking way too much money, I kept my order to one chili dog and a small Coke. Saved $1.59!

Dog was not good – gooie, microwaved bun. I sadly believe that one of the few new things in town will soon be a new dead thing. Watch this space for future developments.

Out to the dump. Amazing approach. I have gone to golf courses and paid big money for views less beautiful. A dump! Drove up the hill, saw the set up. It was actually a “processing center” where they crunched trash into semi-tractor trailor to take to somewhere. Probably Alabama. (Sorry you folks from ‘Bama.) Drove onto scale (no signs, it just seemed the thing to do); went to office and got further directions. Drove to smelly area, pulled out trash, barbed wire, skeletons, etc. Turned around again. Drove back to scale to weigh empty. Paid – $17. Got directions home. 45 minutes to find, only about 7 minutes back. Next time will be a breeze.

Returned home, day is ending soon just like this blog. Planted some Carolina Cyprus as wind break and privacy screen. Washed up. Sink piddled on my boot. Got in truck to drive back to my next commitment.

Web design.

Your newbie farm hand,

Frank