Gord's Journal

Heavy Slates

I like visitors to the shop. Full stop. And especially those who bring items for me to use in some way. 'Rescued lumber' is my strong suit. But slates from the mid-1800s? What's a poor boy to do?

When I see them, and turn them over in my hands, perhaps ideas will form.

What to do w slates? Ideas?

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Gord's Old iPad

The Workshop

Projects and Progress

 ["Swap boxes, signage and birdhouses march toward the exit"]

Everything is running along smoothly inside the shop. Eight to ten projects, some needing paint, others needing assembly, are marching smartly toward the 'out door'.

["A 'little free library' is painted and ready for its door"]

The task that warmed the cockles of my heart more than any other yesterday concerned a pile of rescued western cedar 2 by 4s that graced a nearby curb a month ago. Study the photo below carefully. Spot the treasure?

Against the wall, between barn board left and right, stand 4-inch wide clean cedar slats I can now use for various aromatic projects. Rescued lumber really turns my crank.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

BHs for Gathering on the Green 2

A couple of months ago I found an old CD stand (from pine, standing over 4 ft. tall) at a Fenelon Falls flea market and decided to take a chance.

"I could turn it into a funky birdhouse," I said to myself. And I paid the man.

Yesterday I put coats of paint on trim and when dry attached the bits and bobs and perches to the front door, then reattached it to the stand.

Voila! I think the six-plex plus penthouse will prompt a bit of conversation at Gathering on the Green this coming Saturday.

Details Up Close

["Penthouse and first apartment; perches - golf tees and wooden spoons"]

["Curtain rings make the entrance a bit snazzier"]

  

["Small pots for seeds are glued to wee benches. No extra charge!"]

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

Something Pokey

After a busy day or two in the workshop I'll shake off my hat, wipe my dusty brow and take a break by working on something pokey. That is, nice and easy. People who enjoy puttering or fussing over something without breaking into a sweat will know exactly what I mean.

["What do you see here? One - a busy but tidy shop"]

["Two - a couple of freshened up tree limbs"]

After freshening the paint on a few tree limbs I turned to a couple of small birdhouses.

"I'll add some paint and they'll be better than new," I said to myself.

["Red cedar houses, just waiting for paint"]

["This house looks brighter now." (Golf tees, for perches, dry nearby)]

Five birdhouses on limbs, 'ready to plant in your yard', are now ready for Gathering on the Green.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

Rescued Lumber

Yesterday, from what originally looked like a dirty mess of nail-ridden scrap I produced neat little piles of birdhouse stock. And that's just one of the reasons why I really like working with rescued lumber.

["I tidied up the scrap and revved up the table saw"]

["Old battens from exterior siding are now new logs for cabins"] 

["Roof slats, logs and faces stack up nicely"]

["Another reason: Rescued lumber is usually free"]

The mess is gone from a house reno. Log cabins are underway.

More to follow on this front.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop: "one stack of cabins, coming up" (2)

A week ago I picked a good day to work outside the shop door. With hammer in hand and a cool breeze at my back I removed old metal hardware and dozens of nails from two rotting fence posts (but western cedar nonetheless). The table saw made quick work of the 4 by 4 posts, and logs (for birdhouse bodies) and slats (for roofs) were soon neatly piled upon an old garden bench.

["Shorter logs were assembled; roofs were fashioned from slats"]

Then, longer logs were cut into short pieces and nailed together to form walls of cabins. Two triangles were next nailed atop the walls, and atop the triangles were nailed roof slats. Chimneys, roof trim and perches appeared after that. And finally, today, I attended to special benches upon which a wee birdhouse would be attached. Shortly thereafter I stacked 'em up for a photo.

["Cutting the Vs into bench supports takes but a minute "]

["Benches were soon ready to attach to the cabin"]

["Four singles soon became a completed stack of cabins"]

Old scraggy lumber is worth saving 90 - 95% of the time, in my opinion. And when you can cut up western cedar and enjoy a cool breeze at the same time, work feels like child's play and pays one back in spades.

 Photos by GH

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Please click here to read one stack of cabins, coming up (1)

The Workshop: "one stack of cabins, coming up" (1)

The shop is a busy place at times. I sometimes maintain a 'stick to it' mindset for days on end.

Take this stack of log cabin birdhouses, for instance. Though they became a solid pile all in one fell swoop, individually they took a bit of time to cut, sand, assemble and trim.

["The wood, rescued western cedar, was a real steal"]

The pile of finished houses began its life as scrap lumber in the back of a friend's truck.

"I thought of you," said Steve K. when he recently stopped for a few minutes in my driveway on his way to a local landfill site. "Want these boards from an old fence?"

I gave the messy pile a look and a sniff and wanted it. Fence slats became birdhouses within the week. But other projects got priority treatment before I turned two rotting fence posts (4" by 4" by 6 ft. long) into logs for cabins and slats for roofs. The wait, in my opinion - to cull the oldest, shaggiest bits - was worth it.

Stay tuned.

Photo by GH

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Please click here to read The Workshop: Real whoppers (5)

The Workshop: Chinking the log cabins

I have log cabin birdhouses on the brain. They're fun to make and eat up scrap, thereby reducing the need for me to light a fire and send leftover wood up the chimney.

["Five of seven cabins all in a pile awaiting trim"]

 I am using pine that once was attached to my house in the form of exterior board and batten. The batten sat under a tarp for many years and I am feeling very satisfied with myself now as I use it up - as logs and slats - to provide distinctive homes for chickadees, finches and the ubiquitous sparrow.

["I'm using up my eight-penny washers as well. No expense is too great!"]

Two of the cabins looked a bit wonky, with gaps between logs, so I grabbed a can of crack filler and went to work like an old pioneer on the Canadian Prairies. I'n no expert on chinking but if any chickadee comes to my door this year to complain about losing sleep because of a cold draft on its neck I'll be very surprised.

["Chinking the log cabins took but a few minutes"] 

Today I'll add the last of the trim and paint a sign for my sales corner:

Gordie Boy's Spring Special! Only $XX

Step right up.

Photos by GH

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The Workshop: “Trim yer sails, b’ys!”

I’m in the final stages of prepping numerous birdhouses for a sale. It’s BT time.

Monday, October 29, 2012 BT (Before Trim)

Stay tuned. Soon we’ll reach AT time.

[Photos by GH]

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The Workshop: “More of the same? A bungalooo?”

When it comes to creating new birdhouse designs I usually have no problem. I have several how-to books in my workshop, as well as a handful of coffee table books filled with photos of unusual birdhouses. (I’ll know I’ve reached the big time when one of my birdhouses appears in a coffee table book marked down to $2.00 at a used-book store. I await the day with pride).

Sometimes the colour, density, flavour, heft, quantity (etc.) of the wood guides my decision concerning what to make. A small single? A complex duplex? A rare bungalooo? Roll the wood slowly over in your hand, Gordie, I say. Smell it. Think.

And that’s what I’m doing. I’m thinking.

[Photo by G.Harrison]

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Live Small and Prosper PT 4: “I love my three-wheeled truck”

[“Our local and provincial governments should put their heads together and find a way to reopen the Ford Talbotville plant and manufacture small three-wheeled trucks.” G. Harrison, Sept.21]

In the future - when I own my three-wheeled truck - my monthly transportation costs (car payment, insurance, gasoline, repairs) will be lower than at any other time in my life, except for the two times my wife and I did without a car.

And driving around Wortley Village to pick up groceries and the odd bag of nails in a three-wheeled truck will make me the outstanding rebel of the entire community.

I so look forward to driving a new “Made in Canada” vehicle, the cheaper costs and my top position in the Village’s pecking order. (I’ll try to remain humble).

Of course, a large committee of politicians and community leaders still need to meet and formulate a plan to REOPEN and REUSE the now closed Ford Talbotville plant outside London, Ontario as a three-wheeled truck maker, and - just as important, eh - a manufacturer still needs to build them.


[“Let’s REOPEN Ford Talbotville aka Falcon Heights”: photo link]

The plant is absolutely huge. Three-wheeled truck making won’t fill the place, so perhaps the aforementioned committee will consider other uses for the building at the same time.

For example, I see my three-wheeled truck as the second-last vehicle in my life. Once fuel prices get right out of control (“It’s stratospheric, Baby, stratospheric!”) I’ll talk my wife into sharing an industrial tricycle with enclosed cab and small red cedar box on the back (homemade, perhaps) for carting our weekly groceries and specialty beverages.


[“I see red paint and a red cedar box on this perky model”: photo link]

The REOPENED plant, aka Falcon Heights (a Ford Falcon was the first car off the line in 1967), could be home to a hundred other useful, sustainable enterprises as well.

For example:

Recycled plastic could be reused in picnic tables, chairs, benches and dozens of other products built on site

Rescued lumber could be reused in birdhouses, tables, chairs, boxes (for the back of adult funcycles) and dozens of other products built on site

Local landfills or refuse destined for landfills could be mined and sorted for reusable materials or products on site

Rescued landfill materials, e.g., plastic, lumber, metal, etc., could be reused on site or sold to other manufacturers

The arable land around the plant could be farmed annually and its produce sold at the Falcon Heights Farmers Market on site

Some of the acres of tarmac, once covered by newly-manufactured Fords and the parked cars of plant employees could be removed and recycled and the land (once returned to full health) used as a reforestation project by Reforest London - to help them reach their goal of planting one million trees in ten years

Other acres of tarmac could be covered with solar panels and wind turbines built on site - to help power certain enterprises

Many other ideas will spring to minds more fertile than my own.

Let me know what you think would work at Falcon Heights.

Do you love your current or future three-wheeled truck as much as I do?

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Please click here to read Live Small and Prosper PT 3: “I love my three-wheeled truck.”

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Live Small and Prosper PT 3: “I love my three-wheeled truck”

[“Ford Talbotville, i.e., Ford of Canada St. Thomas assembly plant, closed a week ago. Hundreds of experienced workers lost jobs. I have a brilliant idea.” G. Harrison, 8:35 this morning]

If my wife agrees, and we sell our 2005 Civic and purchase a “Made in Canada” three-wheeled truck (with a 500cc motor, enclosed cab, windshield wipers, small bed in back for groceries), my first out-of-the city trip will be to Port Bruce.


["Time to visit Pt. Bruce... but how to get there?": photo GH]

I haven’t been there in over a month and the north shore of Lake Erie is beautiful in the fall. Plus, the Corner View Cafe serves up a pretty good cup of coffee, and if the tables are still set up outside, the chair closest to the T-intersection is the perfect spot to sit and think deep thoughts. (Sure, deep thoughts only pop up every once in awhile but I’m a patient man).


["I love it already!"]

I think our local and provincial governments should put their heads together and find a way to reopen the Ford Talbotville plant and manufacture small three-wheeled trucks. More and more people every year are transitioning to small vehicles, including scooters and bicycles, and as fuel prices continue to rise the need for a cheap, reliable, affordable machine will only become more apparent.

Let’s get ahead of the curve.

I’d buy a three-wheeled truck tomorrow (right after Pat gave me the nod).

Ford Talbotville could produce them.

And I’d like to eventually transition from a small truck to a three-wheeled bicycle (possibly enclosed) to save even more in fuel costs. Say in about 5 years.


[Click here for link to fun adult tricycles. Check out more adult tricycles here.]

I mean, I live in Wortley Village, most things I need are handy and I only pick up groceries and a bag of nails every once in a while. Okay, t-shirts and a few other clothing items come in handy, but downtown is an easy walk, bike or bus ride away.

Ford Talbotville is a huge place. I bet there are 101 useful, sustainable products that could be manufactured under its roof.

Any other things we could make right here in Canada, just minutes outside London?

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Please click here to read Live Small and Prosper PT 2: “I love my three-wheeled truck.”

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The Workshop: “Woo owns the best compost bin? Woo?”

Once the bottom door is built and attached, I’ll push, pull, slide and heave my new compost bin up against the back fence.


Made mostly of cedar (double thickness on the sides), the bin should last for years to come and leave me with very little to throw (weekly) into the green box once our city adopts a ‘collect food scraps’ program.

As well, with a hinged lid that incorporates a very pretty grid pattern of rescued pine strips, I may have the best looking compost bin a person will ever see.


“There’s no latch,” someone might say. “A squirrel or raccoon will open that up in a second. You ain’t seen ugly yet!”

"Hold onto your hat, Sombrero,” I say. “Until I fashion an animal-proof latch, the lid will be weighted down by a heavy metal owl.”


["Woo has a better bin?": photos by G. Harrison]

Really, if a raccoon can lift it, I’m in trouble, ‘cause it’s also likely strong enough to grab me by the scruff of the neck and escort me off my own property.

Will it happen? I don’t think so.

Got a prettier compost bin? I’d like to see it. Let me know.

***

Please click here for more from The Workshop.

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The Workshop: One step forward, one step sideways

I get distracted easily. And I know that. Yesterday, while tackling the job of moving leftover (reno) rock from a future outdoor reading, writing and snoozing alcove, I made the mistake of looking closely at the first of a few rock slabs.


[I asked myself, “Could these pieces be useful?”]

They do look nice, I thought. Better than nice when wet.


So, I poured a bit of ice water onto one slab. Then I wondered if linseed oil, with a titch of maple stain, would create an interesting effect. I rubbed a bit (a titch, really) onto a 6 by 6 inch piece.


[“Yes, in my opinion, an interesting effect,” I say.]

I liked the result. Then I wondered how long it would take to make a cedar frame for each of three pieces of rock. I didn’t know, so I pushed the saw out of the workshop and cut a few strips of wood and fashioned a frame.


Then, instead of returning to the job of sorting and cleaning up hundreds of pounds of stone, I looked for a place to hang my first framed piece of reno rock.

Personally, I think the side of my outdoor cupboard is a perfect place.


[“Maybe I should get back to the task at hand!”: photos GH]

And one day soon, I’ll build the cupboard doors, and clean up the stone, and get the reading/writing table finished for my outdoor space.

Maybe. I get distracted easily.

***

Please click here for an earlier piece from The Workshop.

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Austerity without Anxiety: “$21 later, I’m set for summer”

Socks. I’ve got lots of socks, I said to myself recently. But I could use a couple more T-shirts.

Frequent readers of this blog know I don’t rush off to buy new clothes very often. (I’m in my third year of “no new clothes.”) But I will buy used clothing on occasion.

And, yesterday, it was that time again.

Several of my old T-shirts were ready for the workshop, i.e., as stain rags. My “shop” shorts were ripped in several places. I felt I needed one more button-down shirt for fancy dress parties.

Frequent readers know where I usually head to renew supplies. The Village of Values is right, with 20 bucks in my pocket.

Years ago, after I showed off a new ‘used’ sweater during a meal with a dozen fellow hikers at a nice restaurant in Waterloo, a friend said - somewhat in shock - “You don’t wear other people’s clothing, do you?”


["Gord's all set for this summer, next year too": photos GH]

I was embarrassed for several seconds.

Then I realized, I like saving money. I don’t mind ‘hand-me-downs’ because I grew up in the 1950s wearing them and so did a lot of my friends at the time.


["Do the math. I had to borrow a buck from my wife."]

Guess what? So did a few of my friends around that dinner table in Waterloo. It was a good lesson for me. No need to feel like I’d broken some kind of immutable law, or feel shame. I wasn’t alone. Never will be. Some of the finest people I know grew up wearing their older brother’s pants.

Today I shop for new ‘used’ without a second’s thought. (Sorry, I lied. I do wonder if I’m just the second person to wear my new ‘used’ summer shorts!) Just about everything we touch and wear ends up at the dump. By the time I’m through with things, e.g., as a paint rag, they’re good and ready.

Admittedly, no one will ever call me a fashion plate.

***

Do you buy second-hand clothes? New ‘used’? Hand-me-downs? Feel any shame? (You shouldn’t.)

Please click here to read more Austerity without Anxiety.

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Decluttering: Box 5 - only two days late at this point

Decluttering Box 4 left the building behind schedule. Reason: The usual suspects. However, though it was almost a week late, Box 5 is almost ready to go, only two days behind schedule.

I still think I’ll reach my goal of 20 boxes - “out the door” - by Dec. 31, 2011. (And that’s the main thing, isn’t it? Rome wasn’t built in a day, so this mess I’ve created for myself over the last 40 years won’t be easily or quickly disassembled).

That being said, I reorganized a room in the basement recently and lots of stuff saw the light of day after being ignored for many years. Several items now sit patiently on a workbench, waiting for me place them into Box 5.

Off I go, on a handpicked tour of my old workroom.




[FYI - the book and many other items are circa 1980: photos GH]

More to follow. E.g., Box 6.

Who would have guessed?

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Please click here for more Decluttering.

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“IT STRIKES” Again: Cold coffee and hot on the trail of the elusive email

[The column that follows was originally published in November, 2002 in The Londoner. Why start with such a long title? Because - at the time - I could.]

Cold coffee and hot on the trail of the elusive email

My younger son Paul purchased a new computer recently.

He phoned from Toronto to express his delight with its many features.

“Dad, I can integrate complex information, morpg instantly from one graphic design to another and synthesize over-complicated processes in milli-seconds,” he enthused, almost coming through the phone to illustrate the point.

I encouraged him with, “It sounds fantastic! Especially the part about synthetics. It’ll last forever. I still have a pair of polyester pants from the 60s. Ah, but can it make a decent cup of coffee?”

I was joking, of course, though not by much.

Came his sly, snake-like reply, “Do you want ‘caf’ or ‘decaf’?”

He went on to explain his other computer was now for sale and soon had me convinced I couldn’t live without it.

He was willing to throw in two pounds of Viennese decaf, free delivery and setup to sweeten the deal.


["Thanks for the computer, Paul." "Thanks for the money, Dad.": circa 1995]

I usually enjoy using our “new “ computer now, but still fumble, fuss and fume over complications that arise when involved with modern machinery.

I went to collect email recently to see if there was a response to an order I had placed at “The Wee Tartan Shop” in Port Perry. I could have telephoned but thought if I could save a long-distance charge it would go toward paying for email service.


["Long titles - because I could": photos GH]

When I went to download email the computer politely informed me that I couldn’t receive mail because the modem could not connect with our email service. Our phone was already in use.

I placed my hot coffee carefully beside the mousepad and went to see if Pat was using the phone. No, she was writing a letter and sipping a mug of Viennese decaf.

When I picked up the phone I noticed the line was busy. Someone had left a message. I dialed our message-waiting service, punched in the password and went through the process of listening to three new messages. I saved two, erased one, hung up.

***

Tune in tomorrow for the darn exciting conclusion

Please click here for more “IT STRIKES” Again.

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