Writing and Building

Today was quite productive, even though I was to sleep fairly early considering I’d had a nap, and then slept in quite late. I was awake by ten or so when outside it had begun to warm up. In the cabin it was fifteen although outside it was closer to eighteen degrees.

I began my day by making a bench from the 2 x 12 Mike had given me, using braced legs from 2x4s. IMG_8117_smallThen I ripped one of the slabs from my saw mill career in the last few days, and used the pieces to make the door for the tin shed extension. If it seems as though this is taking a long time that is because it has. The weather has been dry and I’ve felt no rush. I work on it when I feel like and when the bugs are a bit more moderate. Today the mosquitoes, at least in the morning, were few, so I installed the door, braced it against a supporting timber, tied that in with some of the galvanized metal that makes up the rest of the shed as well, and then put in a few widows and siding in the back of the building as well. The shed is nearing completion now, OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAalthough some tedious cutting of metal lies in the future. When the mosquitoes began to gather their numbers for a more serious assault, I pulled back into the yard and cut some wood as well as trimmed some more bushes around the garden. The hundred foot extension cord is a real advantage. I can go a long way from my power source fairly easily and have that make no difference at all. I have yet to string all my power cords together, but I could probably reach two hundred feet, although I imagine power drop along the cord would be much higher.

The afternoon after my shower, I worked on editing Blind Fish, Lost in the Tunnels. I am nearly done this edit, and then I can start working on the next portion of the story. In about ten thousand words that book could be done, so theoretically I could have a decent copy by the time I go back out west.

There has been an insect chewing in my wall lately. Since it is in the foam it sounds quite loud as it makes its nest, or explores, or whatever it does. This evening I was surprised to find, when I tracked down the noise for the umpteenth time, that it was coming from a piece of foam in a box of scraps. That is much easier to deal with. I blocked the holes and put the piece of foam in a clear plastic bag. Now we’ll see who it is.

I did some fiddling around with my pull out drawer to supplement my writing table, but I still haven’t put together a perfect solution. It would be nice to have a lower area for writing purposes, but although I am closer to designing it, I am not done yet. Similarly, I finally cut to length the piece of hornbeam that I want to use to make a bow. Now it merely waits my inspiration.

Before I went to sleep I took the word processor to bed and worked in my Christmas book. I wrote an informal essay about Santa’s ubiquitous nature in our culture and the ramifications about that lie for children.

About Barry Pomeroy

I had an English teacher in high school many years ago who talked about writing as something that people do, rather than something that died with Shakespeare. I began writing soon after, maudlin poetry followed by short prose pieces, but finally, after years of academic training, I learned something about the magic of the manipulated word.
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