Chillin

This is the cold time of year. I sure do love it though. The routine is simple. The woods cast a spell on you by way of silence and emptiness. Maybe it's the oxygen in the air. Or perhaps it comes over you when you see a hare's tracks in the snow and since it's always snowing you know you are the only one who will witness this piece of a furry thing's survival story.














This is also the time of year for planning ahead. We are more than excited to be moving in this year. There are still so many things to do, and my head is ready to spin at a moment's notice. It takes a vigilance to keep it on straight. Last Saturday as I was working alone inside a cold closet all day, I started to feel foolish again for getting myself into this project. It could have been so simple.

Of course we get ourselves into these struggles because they cause us to grow.













It actually hasn't been unbearably cold out at our building site, partly because of the weather and partly because the house is developing. Having a larger wood stove and all of the windows and doors in makes a huge difference, especially downstairs.











The plumbing lines are mostly in place now. This picture shows (from top) supply lines and drains for a shower, a toilet and the kitchen sink downstairs. The pex hose we're using goes together so easily it almost seems weird. Drilling holes in the right places has been the big challenge there.






















This last couple weeks has mostly been spent on the last details of framing: a few closets, a wall into the dance room, and access to the attic. The end of things is exciting yet usually more fussy than the the rest of the process.

We look forward to a few big parties this year. More on that coming soon!

Happy Christmas

Yesterday we stopped in at our 'big house' to pick up some Christmas supplies and I snapped a few pictures. Here is the new landing at the kitchen door.

















And here is its secret. Shhhhh.
















And here is the arch door in its place. There is about another day's work ahead tuning this door and giving it a knob. But for now I'm happy to see something in the last big hole.









It's Christmas Eve here in Big Bay and a quiet day, except for the motor sounds of our boys pushing their trucks and talking through their teeth in big man voices, and for the sounds of Christmas cooking and cleaning going on downstairs. I'm sitting in bed hoping to shake a cold I've been half-denying all week. All a sick guy wants for Christmas is to be well again. I have a warm dry house, a caring family and a few days with no plans which couldn't be easily canceled or modified to allow for lying around. So I guess I have it made. If nothing else it's a good day to play around with the internet. The new background photo is from this Spring on top of the hill behind our little cabin.

Here's wishing you peace and joy in the darkest and sweetest time of year.

Rest in peace, Anniemoosh

Our dear dog has fallen victim to the snowy Big Bay road. She was twelve.

Last winter we witnessed that Annie was too deaf and blind to sense cars and so since then we've been keeping her on a leash unless we're out far from traffic. Now and then of course she'd get free and come back, and I regret to say we started letting her out on her own on occasion this past few months.








I picked her up from a sled dog farm in Skandia in August when she was about a year old and the people there had decided she wouldn't be much of a sled-puller. She had never been in a car or house and the first night wouldn't even stay in the house where we lived in Marquette. She and I slept in the backyard.

She never did get too civilized, in fact she was such a scrapper at parties that I used to joke to myself that she gives bitches a bad name. So we stopped taking her to parties and for the most part there was peace with the neighbor dogs.









An old dog dying seemed a small tragedy at first. But digging her grave yesterday was so sad. I sang the Bob Dylan song "He was a friend of mine" only saying "She" instead.

There's a shadow in our house where she used to be. When a piece of popcorn drops to the floor or when I get the urge to go outside before bed. It's just sad and that's that.



This picture is from a couple years ago when our neighbors' dog Alice was hit by a car.


Today we took our time saying goodbye before burying her body in a spot where we can plant an apple tree in the spring as a memorial. It's never easy to say goodbye to your loved ones, but we all felt better after talking about it together in a snowstorm.


She was a good dog. She never learned any tricks and didn't always come when called, but we lived harmoniously with her. When we were new in the woods and I often came home late and had to walk the last quarter mile in the dark, she would be there waiting for me in the driveway. She was a darn good dog.

Commitment

I've had a fair amount in trouble in life trying to distinguish a whim from a calling. I'm finding that to hear a calling you have to make yourself quiet. Free from the noise of your head (daily work, resentment, fear, anger, ...) and the noise of your environment (machines, TV, email, ...)

When you ignore a whim, it goes away leaving only what trace you attached to it. When you ignore a calling, though, you end up getting sick, spiritually, mentally and physically. This is the belly of the whale, where I've been many times.

A few weeks ago I had something of a whale-belly experience as a result of my anxiety and short-sightedness about this house. Sometimes this project is so big that I allow my worry machine to get control. I find myself reading how-to material whenever I have free time, often when I should be sleeping. My wake-up call this time came in the form of a strained back muscle, which for a few days made even yawning sharply painful.

After some consultation with Erica, a jump in Lake Superior, some prayers and the abundance of friends, family and music I enjoy here I am still feeling a ton of pressure. I have just learned again that I can ride it and not be consumed by it.

The landing at the back door is done as of yesterday, and the arch door is very nearly hung. The door is taking so much time. I sure hope it works!



Here's one of two flying squirrels we released in an old abandoned cabin at the end of November. This one is eating snow. A moment after this picture was taken he 'flew' over to a nearby tree and then climbed way up the tree and flew into the woods. His spouse went into the house.
They had been nesting under our bed inside the floor. It's much quieter at night now.

Let the snowflakes fall

Since I started living in the country house-builder lifestyle, about 8 years ago, Autumn has been a manic time. The outdoor goals of the year face the dwindling warm days. And firewood has to get piled up. Our two-wheel-drive truck becomes useless on the backroads when the snow starts to pile up. So ends my list of excuses why I haven't blogged in a while.

It's been a beautiful Fall, we managed to get wood piled up pretty good, hauled in almost all of the insulation, and even began insulating the block.

There's another couple weeks of framing work to do: closets, a landing at the back door and so on.

Then there's this big old stove my dad and Moses helped me haul in. Hooking that up and building the chimney are also on the table. We had used it the last couple years we were in our little cabin. It's way too big for that place, but it was nice to have the open fire.

As for today I'm resting my body after straining a muscle in my back on Saturday while taking the garbage to the dump. It's feeling better by the day and the old dog should be back on line come Thursday when I plan to get back to physical work. Until then I have plenty to do on paper, planning ahead for the Winter.

Labor Day Lost and Found

Please call or write if you know who these belong to.

Shingling Digested

The shingling party was such a whirlwind that it has taken a few days to be able to start to get my head around it. We counted over a hundred guests, and almost that many bundles of shingles.

I was describing the event to some friends this Tuesday and they said it sounded like a mingo, a type of building party they had witnessed in Ecuador. At a mingo (I think this is the word) each family in a village sends one member to help with whatever project it is.

This is similar to our experience, as a few people came from all the facets of our social lives: our village. We are so fortunate to have such a large and loving village. I am grateful to everyone for their hard and focused work, but the project itself stands as a mere symbol. In a few thousand years the next ice age will wipe all semblance of this house away, but the happy spirit of everyone is way bigger than all this stuff.


Here is a video featuring music of Pitchy Kanto recorded Saturday night. I apologize that there aren't more pictures or video. We were real busy.




Click here to see photos posted on Facebook.