It was free spring-cleaning day at the landfill and furrydoc guessed that I might have construction rubble to add to her truckload. (Gee, wonder what made her think a thing like that?)
So she came over, we loaded my demolition leftovers on top of hers, and off we went to the dump.
And there it was, right on the nearest heap:
The center pane had a crack across it that someone had patched with blue masking tape and cardboard from a Cheerios box. The wood has a few dings. But nothing a little Bondo or wood filler can’t handle. Rick at the local hardware store cuts glass and I even have glazing points hidden in some drawer or another. A little sanding and a coat of paint — and it’s done.
A cheerful young man who helped us unload said we were welcome to it. So I smashed out the broken pane and this cool old door followed me home.
Not sure where I’ll use it yet, but I’ll figure something out.
The Sugar Pine Mine situation in Oregon, which a lot of people have been cautiously watching, is not yet (and hopefully won’t have to become) a stand-off with the Bureau of Land Management. But according to David Codrea, Oath Keepers (bless ‘em) has been on the scene to provide security as the confrontation remains tense.
Oath Keepers is looking for responsible volunteers (no agenda-driven grandstanders/provocateurs) to support them at a noon rally in Medford, Oregon, today. They are also looking for a camp cook, medical personnel, and other volunteers with specific skills. They may need other help in the future, as well. Potential volunteers should take their lead from Oath Keepers and (other than for today’s rally) should contact local Oath Keepers organizers in advance; don’t just show up.
Josephine County, where this situation is developing, is one of the poorest (if not the poorest) county in Oregon. Much of it is remote and in many ways it is a forbidding, if utterly gorgeous, place. Like many areas that rely on income from natural resources, it has been economically crushed by regulations and there has been quiet hostility building for years between the people and the fedgov.
Josephine County is part of the State of Jefferson, a unique area that takes its identity seriously even if Jefferson statehood was never officially sanctioned.
Whatever happens with the Sugar Pine Mine dispute, expect interesting developments out of Jefferson. Eventually.
It’s been a year since I’ve scrounged anything good from the woods. Then it was the foundling end table (which got improved and which Commentariat member Pat eventually dubbed “Doorway to the Sun”).
This afternoon I brought home a small heap of equally unprepossessing but potentially useful stuff I found in a newly dumped trash heap. To wit:
This is tongue-and-groove beadboard from somebody’s old house. Depression-era, I’m guessing. Probably wainscotting from a kitchen or bathroom judging by the bits of ancient wallpaper clinging to it. This small amount isn’t enough for anything by itself, but I’ve got this ceiling project …
Last summer (you may recall all too personally, given that y’all were so involved), part of my roof collapsed. The fix involved cutting away large chunks of a beadboard ceiling. Which was bad because it was a lovely old ceiling. But which was good because working from inside made the roof fix relatively inexpensive. And which was also good because it gave me the opportunity to convert a formerly flat ceiling to a vaulted (well, slightly vaulted) one.
I just didn’t have enough interesting material to cover it. Could have drywalled it. But meh. And there was still a lot of beadboard left after the teardown, even if not enough beadboard.
Right now that ceiling is just bare rafters with insulation. Eventually I’ll turn it into a patchwork of the old beadboard, modern tongue-and-groove 1x6s, trim, and whatever the heck else might fit up there. The beadboard I picked up this afternoon is a different design than what I’ve already got and will enhance the patchwork effect. Remarkably, the tongues and grooves of all the different materials I’ve assembled fit together, too. Well, mostly. They will fit whether they want to or not. :-)
There’s probably more beadboard in the heap of construction rubble. I’ll go back and look later.
It infuriates that people dump construction leftovers in the woods. Aside from the blight on the landscape, the heaps are always full of rusty nails, sharp metal edges, and broken glass. I wonder if the creeps who use the forest as their personal landfill ever give a second’s thought to the excruciating death some animal might suffer, getting an infected wound from all those spiky protrusions.
The rubble heap this beadboard came from could have been left at the real landfill for about $7.50. But noooooo. Some cretin couldn’t be bothered.
If I ran the world, people who dumped dangerous junk in the woods would have to pick it up with their teeth. Serve ‘em right. Still, for scroungers, there’s occasional gold in the rubble.
Walked to the grocery store this morning, arriving just before opening. The lot was nearly full and the street outside lined with parked pickup trucks and SUVs. Unheard of on a Sunday morning. Clerk opened the doors — and out of those vehicles poured guys. I’m guessing there were six men for every one woman.
It’s SuperBowl Sunday in the NorthWest and the local team is playing for the second year in a row.
We’re having another of those moments where the sky is blue, the sun blinding, and the air so mild that fleece sweatpants and a turtleneck under the tee-shirt are almost too much.
So the guy who helps with my yardwork turned up to do some long-discussed brush clearing, trash hauling, and felling of small trees. (Totally blowing my January “minimalist” budget, but that’s another story.) Twice this week he and a couple of grubby kids (one of whom is his daughter-in-law, a tough bundle of charm) have crawled down the slope across the road and dug in. They’ve attacked noxious giant weeds (which my beekeeping neighbors won’t let me poison if I want to keep peace in the valley). They’ve taken down and heaped up small, malformed trees. They’ve hauled out every sort of trash, from microwaves and broken toilets to dozens of bags of cat poop.
My apologies, all you people there on the upper east coast. I hear that the ghastly weather you’re having is our fault. Something to do with this monstrous ridge of high pressure plunging down on us; creates a monster low for you.
Believe me, I was thinking of you this afternoon while I contemplated whether or not I should wear the tee-shirt with a turtleneck or skip the turtleneck for a dog walk. I felt soooooo guilty.
Three more hopeful looks at Western-Islamic relations: An imam says Muslims must reject violence and governments must change course; Glenn Harlan Reynolds points out that Muslim leaders are finally realizing that their “brand” is tarnished by the acceptance of intolerance; author Irshad Manji is optimistic about the future between Islam and the West.
Every time I checked the weather between 4:00 p.m. yesterday and 7:00 a.m. today, it said current conditions here were “heavy rain mist.” Um … but that “mist” pounded so hard for all those hours that I couldn’t hear myself think.
Sure enough, woke up this morning overlooking a river. The one house I can see across the former wetland below is in at least a foot of water (if not more) and my neighbors across the street (who are, like me, on a hill) are joking that they’re going to list their place for sale today as “waterfront property.”
I’m good, though my driveway is worse for the wear and the seasonal waterfall on the slope behind it is roaring so vigorously neighbors have walked over to take pictures.
It’s an awful mess down on the flat, where of course the people in the mobile home park and the little low houses are getting it worse than anybody. Not life-threatening bad. But a giant, completely unpredicted mess. We knew a substantial rainstorm was on the way, but all the flooding was supposed to be miles from here. From what I hear, we got about 6-1/2 inches of “heavy rain mist.” (And it sure did sound heavy last night.)
I also hear that we’re completely closed off by landslides and flooded roads.
And yipes! this is low tide. High tide — and a king tide, yet — is supposed to hit in a few hours. The rain has slacked off, though, so that’s to the good and maybe the worst is past.
I’ll try and post some pix later.
Meanwhile, I’ve got the final portion of Vin’s interview pre-scheduled for noonish 11:00-ish PST, so even if the power goes out, you’ll still get your Vin fix.
One Raymond, Washington, resident expresses his enthusiasm for the town’s new status:
Washington state’s new recreational cannabis law is known for being a little less “wild westy” than Colorado’s. The Rocky Mountain High state rushed its implementation and has had some problems. Washington (which only legalized private liquor sales shortly before it legalized pot) went about things more slowly and bureaucratically.