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Thursday, August 7, 2014


Frustrated Artist?
Never thought of myself thataway...
Coming along on my little Shop, now there's just running power to it, and mounting the big red fan, and repairing the old part of the roof.
So now I'm attempting to clean all of the tools, organise, and fix all of the damned power tools(bench sanders, and the like)...either clean out the mud daubers from the windings, or replace a switch or a motor.
Of course, I'll need supplies, at some point...nuts and bolts and things...sand paper.
That will all hafta wait till I can pay off the hardware store.
I still have yet to finish getting the old small forge in order...mounting the fan, and greasing the ancient geared blower.
There's two very old pieces of a tractor of some sort that I have had my eye on for something.
I reckon they would make fine Limbs for the first wind harps...Need to ask my wood guy to look out for hollow logs for me.
I also have no idea, at all, where one might procure a bunch of piano or used will do for now.
I'm quite anxious to get started, but the weather, and my responsibilities, not to even mention my body, won't let me. First thing in the morning, when it's cool, and I'm fresh, is the only way, in high summer...but my youngest saw fit to catch the first Pathogen of the school year, at the Lutheran's Vacation Bible School: Further evidence of the absolute necessity of Paid Family Leave.

Eventually, if there's ever any money, I'd like to get one of those little crackle box welders, and a proper oxy/acetylene rig.
New drill bits for the metal side would be cool as hell , too.
This winter, me and the boys will construct the large forge...gotta find an exhaust manifold from a tractor, first.
This will hopefully be for swords.
That's why I got into this, in the first place....and I needed something to do.
Paints and Stains, new saw blades,a pair of loose over-alls(yeehaw),
Next morning:
Walked into the shop, and thought I saw a large crack forming in the big tree stump that the big red vise is mounted to....but's a damned rattlesnake...about a foot long, squirming his way on top of the stump and into the body of the vise, itself. The Magic Cripple flies back to the Library, and grabs the .22...loaded with rat-shot.
I get around into the old part of the Shop, and shoot...I see the middle of the snake turn all red and meaty...but just then..a hundred wasp-like creatures explode from the ceiling, six inches above my head.
Magic Cripple, again...and it's back to the Library to remember where I put the box of rat-shot...and back again, to very carefully look for dead snake.
But he's gone...could be anywhere...weeds, under the wall and into the metal pile...under the cabinets in the Old Part.
I just scattered mothballs all over the place a few days ago.
The fact that Mr Snake was attempting to get himself lodged into such a tiny space means that every motor housing, and every coffee can of nails could contain a serpent.
My absence from this place for almost 5 years means that the snakes..and wasps and coons and scorpions and spiders and rats...have all gotten used to having the run of the place.
It will take time...and a Winter's worth of undo that absence.
Meantime, I'll put in a Goose Pool, and begin the arduous task of convincing that crazy lot that it's Kosher to come over here from Mom's front yard. Geese abhor snakes, and do not suffer them to live...same with Guinea Fowl. But they'll stare at an open gate for a month, before venturing through it.

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