Birdhouse London

Mission Church on the Rise

Plans on paper moved toward reality in the shop yesterday with few challenges. Every problem related to cutting, sanding and assembly had a solution.

How will a person gain access to the front unit under the bell tower? I'll attach the entire birdhouse to the base with five screws. How will someone ring the bell? With fishing line through a tiny hole in the back wall.

Lots to do still, but I anticipate I'll offer a satisfied 'voila' or 'thumbs up' on Thursday afternoon.

Link to Birdhouse London

Photos GH

It Strikes Me Funny

Something Between Us

["So, how are you doing?"]

Yesterday was laundry day and the sun was shining. Perfect drying weather.

Perfect day as well to sit outside with my wife and sip morning coffee and talk about plans for the day.

As soon as we sat down, however, I sensed there was something between us.

But, thanks to the sunny weather, we had things sorted out - and folded - in under 15 minutes.

Link to It Strikes Me Funny

Photo GH

Halifax and Another Hard Promise

I Could Live Here

These days, after I tell my wife about a quaint little village I passed through on my motorcycle, about a house I saw somewhere with a nice-sized workshop out back and that 'I could live there', she just rolls her eyes. It's just one more place I could see myself feeling at home and setting up shop. One more place - though I really, really loved it, along with thousands of others - in which we will never reside. I've been saying the same sort of thing about seemingly-cozy locales since we first met 45 years ago.

Once off the Confederation Bridge from the New Brunswick side and onto lovely roads (atop my motorcycle) leading to Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, I said 'I could live here' about a dozen times in 30 minutes. And I was right, of course. I was captivated by the red fields, the lush green scenery, quaint harbour-towns, beautifully-painted churches, pleasant homes and cottages, some decent-sized workshops with working stoves situated inside picket-fenced backyards, multitudes of boats in snug coves, and hilly, winding roads that held more surprises for the eye and inquiring mind around every bend. Who wouldn't say PEI is gorgeous?

["My sister is one very happy beach comber!"]

["PEI is home to many creative communities"] 

For three days I enjoyed the island's world-famous warmth and hospitality, albeit under cloudy skies. Not once did I feel disappointed in any plans to show me around, fill my face, hear music or dance up a storm, even though the dance will be held next time I visit.

"I could live here," I said to my sister Lannie while wandering her new home and property and inspecting her three out-buildings.

I could live here, I thought while talking to a local fisherman and snooping inside wooden supply sheds.

I could live here, I said to myself while exploring two floors of an old barn just down the road from my sister's house.

["Yup, I sure liked this barn. What's behind the black door (right)?"]

["Behind the black door is my future shop : )"]

Of course, I will live there only when the course of my life is able to change on a whim, or at my command, and only if I get an iron-clad guarantee life will be as grand on PEI as it is now at my current address. In other words, I'm staying put in London, likely until the cows come home. And who can blame me? I have fine family and friends all around me and live in one of the official 'Top Ten Communities' in the world. And my current house is not only my castle but the royal workshop is less than 20 steps from my back door. A very grateful man, I am.

I am not only grateful for my situation but very happy my sister has landed on her feet in a fine spot that feels like home. She will enjoy many years of honourable pastimes and pursuits in a refurbished house - on a hospitable island - surrounded by good family and friends. Not only that, she told me she receives a bit of money from a farmer (who rents the fields next to her house), and can dig up all the potatoes her heart desires at harvest time.

What? Free potatoes? Why, I could live there for sure!

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

Birdhouse London

Mission-style Church

The other day I needed a break in the action (assembling this item or that inside the shop), so I grabbed pencil and paper. An idea regarding the use of some lumber leaning against a nearby wall had popped into my head while my hands had been engaged.

Mission-style church with two open windows in the space above a birdhouse door. Second unit at the rear, for all those birds who prefer to enter church via the backdoor (just like a few people I know, including me). Material leaning against the wall... separate sheets of white and gray barn board.

Oh yeah, this will look good, I thought.

My hands were soon engaged once again, but this time cutting barn board!

Link to Birdhouse London

Photos GH

The Workshop

Rietveld Jig

I've been making Rietveld chairs periodically over the last few years after seeing pictures of them in a book about Adirondack chairs. The Rietveld crate chair stood apart from Adirondacks and I knew they were for me. All straight lines. Measure, cut, sand, assemble. Right up my alley. Shortly after viewing the photos I drew my own sketches - with my own measurements - and the rest is history.

["One seat rest coming up"]

["All straight lines and 90 degree angles"]

["Voila"]

The jig I created is the simplest you will likely ever see, i.e., one piece of plywood w a right angle nailed into place. The four components, i.e., right and left support w arm rests, seat, and back supports (made from 18 pieces of cedar, pine, or both, etc.) can be easily assembled atop the jig, and the four finished sections joined to make one chair upon the shop floor. Easy kap-easy... almost.

And how do I calculate the jaunty angle at which the seat and back are put into place? Trade secret. (That being said, google 'rietveld crate chair', go to images (you'll see some of my photos in the large mix), and study where people are placing screws to connect the seat to the left/right supports w arm rests. Then, make an educated guess.)

 But it's comfy and sturdy - and I think Gerrit Rietveld, original creator of the chair, would give me a 'thumbs up'.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

One Down

["Nice combo: Red cedar for legs and braces; gray barn board for all else"]

One Rietveld chair is assembled and all the necessary bits for a second one are ready to manhandle and slug into place. Oh, yeah, it's a beaut and if I had time to sit down I'd pick a Rietveld every time.

Looking at my watch, I should be done manhandling and slugging by 2 PM, though - as many know - nothing tastes better than the third cup of freshly-made java on a peaceful morning.

Okay, done by 3 then.

Link to The Workshop

Photo by GH

Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Pack Your Bags

 ["June 9, 7:30 AM. I shift last minute bits and pieces before departing"]

Whenever I pack bags for a road trip I think of my mother Edith who passed away in 2000. I recall a memorable conversation we had many years ago about a unique aspect of anticipation. I cannot recall the exact context - I wish I could - but one of us must have been preparing for a journey of some kind and we got talking about it in her kitchen.

"I enjoy the anticipation related to a trip almost as much as the trip itself," she said.

I likely shrugged, but listened.

She went on to explain that she would think about an upcoming adventure for a long time and make lengthy and detailed preparations in some cases. She enjoyed each single day as the trip or 'the big day' approached (I recall she referred to school holidays and Christmas time) and she described to me the extent of the excitement she felt. 'As excited as a schoolgirl' now springs to mind, as well as the thought that the pure quality of her anticipation (I bet she could almost reach out and touch it) must have turned the time before a trip into an actual event - equal or almost equal in enjoyment to the trip or 'big day' itself.

["Schoolgirl Edith (centre) with big smile. It's a big day!"]

In June, as I made my own preparations for a trip to Canada's East Coast I thought of that conversation again... for the umpteenth time. Oh, I get what she was talking about now.

["Where, when, how far - all figured out"]

I call the days before a trip 'prep time' or 'prep work' and I get buzzing around the house like nobody's business. I make several lists, collect supplies, (and if it's a motorcycle trip) arrange saddle bags on the floor of my study, pack them tightly, give them a shake and then squeeze something else into wee spaces that open up. I thumb through the best maps I can find, plan the best routes, decide on Plan Bs, create daily itineraries, contact planned destinations ahead of time (e.g., museum or library archive staff), ask a few questions to keep them busy, line up accommodations, make a list of where I'll be for my wife, think of places to go and people to see and - every once in awhile -  stand up straight to sniff and taste the air around me. Oh yeah, I love looking forward to and getting ready for a good trip!

["I can squeeze one more Mr. Noodle soup in there!"]

After a particularly rugged and demanding canoe trip on North Tea Lake in Algonquin Park (circa 1990) I wrote a few notes to help me preserve memories of high adventure. And the very first thoughts I jotted down related to the prep work and the excitement I felt in the hurried days leading up to departure. I entitled those few sentences about packing my bags - an event in its own way - 'anticipation'. (Was that a reference to my mother's words twenty or more years earlier? I do not know, but I at least knew what she had been feeling and trying to express at the time).

* * * * *

anticipation

gotta hit the johnny cash

gotta hit the road  

with a heavy nylon backpack -

every pocket full

tightly zippered shut

stashing plastic jars

spices, syrup, porridge,

rice, pop-tarts, and pasta

hungry-man size only

five day supply

gotta hit the johnny cash

gotta hit the road

with a twelve foot canoe of cedar -

both ends snugged down

yellow nylon lines

honda stuffed front and back

pointing north to Sundridge

adventure at North Tea awaits

five hours to Algonquin

money quick at johnny cash

gotta hit the road

gah

* * * * * 

On June 9, after covering the first 500 kilometres of my 18-day-long trip, I wrote a few notes while waiting for supper at The Kingston Brewing Company. I believe they fit here.

I write that during the trip I not only 'enjoy the ride' (the Canadian scenery, and the 'looking forward' to an upcoming hike along the Atlantic coast) but enjoy 'the work of the ride', i.e., 'the planning (and) the muscling of metal to get from London to Kingston in one piece'. Planning, prep time and anticipation seem to go together in my mind now as much as the daily physical work associated with riding down the highway.

Surely I will take more trips in the future. (Actually, my list is quite long). And while packing my bags I will again feel a great sense of excitement and remember a schoolgirl who will travel comfortably on my shoulder all the way to some far shore and back home again.

["I don't leave home without an angel on my shoulder"]

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

The Workshop

Three Coats

Mango-coloured paint from Benjamin Moore turns doors and signage (for front yard libraries) into a very bright display.

FYI The paint does not taste like mango. Kinda minty!

Link to The Workshop

Photo GH

The Workshop

Sit a Spell

Beside the shop's doorway sits a tidy pile of lumber slats. Yesterday morning I assembled a matching pile to form the four sections of a Rietveld-style crate chair.

FYI The first Rietveld chairs were produced in the mid-1930s by Garritt Rietveld, Germany. Today, early models command prices as high as 10,000 Euros.

["Red cedar for legs, braces. White pine for backs, seats, arm rests"]

["My early model. Very comfy"]

My early models (made 5 - 6 years ago from rescued white pine) are still rock solid. And priceless.

(Okay, I was just kidding about that last bit).

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Zoom w a View

Hops are Popping

The hop vines in my backyard are flowering.

Next week I should see hundreds of small cones in place of the flowers.

If so, the week after that I will add more flavour to my glass of lager.

Link to Zoom w a View

Photos GH

Bird Watching

My Turn!

I think the mourning dove moves too slowly for Mr. C.

"Come on, move along," he says.

Link to Bird Watching

Photo GH

Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Table of Contents

 ["Thumbs up at 7:30 AM, June 9, 2014"]

Four weeks ago today I arrived home safely - but a bit numb in the hinder parts - after a stirring, 4,800-kilomtre-long motorcycle trip to the East Coast. Since then I have gradually returned to my productive routine (whatever that is, but it includes writing, woodworking, getting under foot in the kitchen), all the while sensing that my travels very much affect me deeply while I work and play.

I also feel that, though the lowest of the trip's low points make me suddenly shake my head in disbelief at odd moments during the day as much as the highest of high points ("How could that be?" I ask myself. "How could those things happen like that!?"), I wouldn't change a thing about my 18 days on the road.

Wait, maybe one thing. I'd add a few more heavy spanners to the bag I want to throw at an anonymous municipal worker in Tatamagouche.

["Coming and going. Good days and bad days. Such is life"]

Short Stories from the East Coast Trip, 2014

1. Pack Your Bags

2. I Could Live Here

3. Stinking Bag of Spanners

4. Nelson Langevin, RCNVR

5. The Heart of the Matter

[On my way to the ever-lovely Tatamagouche"]

Coming soon - Pack Your Bags

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

Motorcycle Miles

Favourite Photos

["South of Kirby, on my way to Newtonville, June 2014"]

I'm not a lifelong motorcyclist. I started riding in 1991 for a couple of years, and took a 15-year hiatus before buying my second bike. That being said, I have over ten million photos taken during motorcycle rides. Gotta say, I like them all.

Link to Motorcycle Miles

Link to East Coast - Favourite Photos

Photo GH

The Workshop

Just Before Lockup

 ["Second coats today, and a photo in better light"]

Yesterday, by about 5:45 PM, I was ready to shake the dust off, put workshop tools away and head indoors for supper. I felt I had accomplished a good deal. I had painted both doors for outdoor libraries (I know, they look like mango-coloured windows), stacked up a third pile of birdhouse stock, and started the lengthy assembly process for the first of two Rietveld chairs.

["Thirteen birdhouses. I still think I need two more piles"]

Just before lockup I noticed a male cardinal at my feeder. It flew to the fence when I pulled a camera from my back pocket.

["Come on, come on. Turn around, turn around"]

All in all, I enjoyed another very good day.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

Piles of Piles

I need to get ready for an upcoming craft show (Art in the Park, Strathroy), held in early August, so dust is flying in the shop. I stacked up a pile of stock on Monday, completed another stack (of five birdhouses) yesterday, and made a start at a third pile - of sturdy rustic houses from the oldest barn board I've used in a long time.

Nice stuff, I say. Due to my habit of covering older stacks with newer stacks of rescued (or purchased) lumber in my storage shed, these boards have been hiding from me for quite some time. (I'm pretty sure I rescued this rich brown barn board from Dorchester's landfill site three or four years ago! )

Stand back. More dust is on my agenda today.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

The Workshop

Oh Yeah, Stack 'Em Up!

["Rescued cedar two by fours make my day"]

Tomorrow I start three more 'little free libraries' from rescued lumber. Very cool!

Link to The Workshop

Photo GH

The Workshop

Stack 'Em Up!

In conclusion, doors - that look like windows - for two libraries are now painted, ready for top coats. The snake - for signage - is also ready for more action.

And finally, I'm finally getting around to building stacks of birdhouses. Only 19 more to go.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Conservation

Conservation Quiz Answer

What happened to the California couple who scaled back their watering during the states's drought?

All is revealed in the photo below:

Three things. 1. The correct answer to yesterday's quiz was 'D'. (We have a winner and a California committee is - right now - determining if there will be a prize or not.)

2. If you live in California and are under emergency orders to conserve water it is still okay to water your lawn. In fact, you'll be slapped w warnings if you don't. Similarly, in Canada, if you hear the water level in the Great Lakes is declining, one should continue to water lawns thoroughly, wash cars with lots of soap (then rinse), fill swimming pools right to the top, take lengthy showers, flush twice, and stock up on bottled water. Everything's fine. We'll just create more fresh water.

And 3, the news clip left me with questions. Are there other barriers to conservation of vital and limited resources, e.g., water, fossil fuels, peace on earth? Do such barriers constitute a Catch-22 or Catch-44?

Link to Conservation

Photo of London Free Press news clip by GH