We sang in the early Christmas Eve service last night and had the soup and bread dinner between the services. The dinner almost didn't happen because nobody had been appointed to take charge of it. My wife did a lot of calling around and found many volunteers to bring food, serve it, and clean up afterward. She told me that she would help set up and then let others clean up.
Well, it didn't work out that way. After I ate and chatted with a few people, I put on my coat. The second service started and my wife was still in the kitchen. We also wound up bringing home the tablecloths to wash.
I was irritated; I still had presents to wrap and a few other things I wanted to do at home.
When we arrived home I made a few trips between the garage and house with things we wouldn't have had if we had left right after we ate. The last thing I brought in was the big bundle of tablecloths. My wife said I should just drop them down the laundry chute, but I said I would rather just take them downstairs.
This shouldn't be a problem. I frequently take heavy boxes of firewood to the basement. A box of tablecloths should be easy. This despite that my vision is blocked with either the firewood or the tablecloths.
I got to the last step and caught the heel of my boot. Forward I pitched. I think I dropped the tablecloths. My right knee slammed into the concrete floor and I rolled onto my back. Oh, great!
My knee was sore, but otherwise seemed OK. My pants weren't ripped, but there was a sheen that wasn't there before.
I picked myself up, put the tablecloths by the washing machine, and went back upstairs on my own power. But I was even more irritated for having to stay later at church than I had planned.
Well, I did get the presents wrapped, and I did get some of the other tasks done that I had planned. I also slept rather well, even if sugar plums weren't dancing in my head.
When I woke up this morning, my knee was not the color of a plum and I could walk OK. Whew! I won't be in the hospital with a broken knee cap or anything else. Bring on the presents! Raise our voices on high in song! Serve the punch! Merry Christmas!
Showing posts with label plans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plans. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Gang aft agley in the North Woods
My plan at our cabin yesterday was to cut up a small tree and split the pieces, cut up a tree blocking a path and cut down several stumps. Well, I got the small tree taken care of. I didn't want to prepare the chain saw just then, and so I cut some lower branches on a spruce plantation. Then it was time for lunch.
After a leisurely lunch, I bundled up to unblock the path. As I was going out the door with my hard hat in hand, my wife asked about my chaps. Oh, great! Well, I didn't feel like unbundling to put the chaps on, and so I decided I'd take the cut branches to next spring's chipping pile.
On my way to load up the branches, I wondered if my wife wanted to put some old rounds (16-inch lengths of a tree) on the outdoor fire she was tending. She agreed and I got a splitting maul to bang the rounds loose from the frozen ground.
I got three loose, but they looked too rotted and full of dirt to burn. Instead I took them to fill a borrow pit. A borrow pit is a small excavation at the side of a logging road. The dirt and rocks from the pit are used to make the road.
I came back to get the last two rounds. I banged them with the maul but they wouldn't budge. I tried several times, and then I heard a crack. The handle of the maul had split!
Well, I had better get the handle off so that I can put a new handle on next week. Get out a saw to cut the handle just below the head. Punch out the remains of the handle and the wedge that holds the handle in the head. Put all tools back and tuck the maul head in the SUV where it won't fly up and hit us on any sudden stop.
Finally, I loaded up the cart with a bunch of branches and took them back to the chipping pile.
When I came back it was time for a break. Will I get back to cut-up the downed tree. Maybe tomorrow.
After I wrote the above, my wife told me that there was an exclamation point above the "electricity dial" on the dashboard of our SUV. She told this to me about three in the afternoon; she had gone to the post office about eleven in the morning.
I went out to the SUV, started it up, and saw the low tire light come on. Oh, that's just because the weather is cold, she only went two miles each way. If we drive more, the tires will warm up and the light will go off. I got out with a sense of relief, and then I looked at the left rear tire. Flatter it could not be!
I got out the manual to review changing a tire. I found all the necessary tools under the back seat except the wheel blocks. We used a couple pieces of firewood instead.
The spare tire is underneath the vehicle. To drop it down, one puts an extension to the jack lever in a hole in the back door frame and cranks it down. Try as I might, I couldn't find any place to get the extension rod to fit into. I crawled under the car; I peered in the hole. Nada but frustration.
It started to get too dark to work outside and I gave up. The rest of the evening I brooded about what to do. Do we call a towing company in Two Harbors, thirty five miles and who knows how many dollars away? Do we ask some locals who to recommend? We tried one and got the answering machine and didn't leave a message. We tried a second and were given the advice to call a local jack-of-all trades, the guy who plows our driveway and does much more for us. Why didn't he get to the top of my list right away?
I called him and gave him our tale of woe, except not being able to get the spare down. He told me to bring in the tire in the morning. Somehow, that gave me enough reassurance that I didn't lie awake half the night mulling over various scenarios.
Bright and early today I got up, had breakfast, and prepared to resolve our transportation problem.
I tried again to lower the spare. Still the same poking around in the dark. OK, I'll take the tire off and have it ready for Kevin to pick it up.
The instructions say to loosen all the nuts one turn before jacking the car up. I'll skip a few missteps about gaining access to the wheel nuts. I started on one and pulled and pulled. On the third try it loosened and I turned it one turn. On to the second nut. Pull and pull! Once, twice, thrice, and on and on. This is getting ridiculous. I need an extender. I found a four-foot pipe in the shed and slipped it on the tire wrench. One try and the nut loosened. On to the third nut. Pull and pull! Once, twice, thrice, and no go. In fact, the tire wrench is bending!!! Now what?
I don't know exactly when the light bulb went on in my head, but I remembered that it was a slow leak and that we have been carrying for years a 12-volt air compressor, just for this contingency. Back to the cabin and get it out of our miscellaneous box. Untie the cords. Plug it into the dashboard power outlet (aka cigarette lighter). Put compressor valve on tire valve. Turn on! Clack! Clack! Clack! It looks like nothing is happening. Let the compressor clack away. Is it my imagination? Is it wishful thinking? Is the bulge really getting smaller? Yes! Yes! We are making progress.
Get out the tire gauge for when the tire looks full. Minutes go by and the tire keeps looking more normal. Check the pressure. 25.0 pounds! We're making good progress. Next check – 30.0 pounds. Third check - 34.5 pounds. Close enough to the recommended 35.0 pounds. And the low tire light is off!!!
And the low tire light stayed off all the way to Kevin's.
This tale is getting long, and so I'll make a quick summary. Kevin got the tire off with a pneumatic wrench. Whir, plop, six times. He bounced the tire around looking for damage. He couldn't fix it because of ply separation on the wall. Probably from being flat overnight. He did get the spare down easily by putting the extension rod in slightly off center opposite the way I kept trying.
I would have been out in a trice, but we chatted about where to buy what kind of new tires and logging and water wells and …
Now will I sleep well tonight or toss and turn about what funds to use to pay for a new set of tires? I know I don't want to have another winter worrying about skidding through an intersection like I've done with the current set of tires.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley. - Robert Burns
(The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry)
After a leisurely lunch, I bundled up to unblock the path. As I was going out the door with my hard hat in hand, my wife asked about my chaps. Oh, great! Well, I didn't feel like unbundling to put the chaps on, and so I decided I'd take the cut branches to next spring's chipping pile.
On my way to load up the branches, I wondered if my wife wanted to put some old rounds (16-inch lengths of a tree) on the outdoor fire she was tending. She agreed and I got a splitting maul to bang the rounds loose from the frozen ground.
I got three loose, but they looked too rotted and full of dirt to burn. Instead I took them to fill a borrow pit. A borrow pit is a small excavation at the side of a logging road. The dirt and rocks from the pit are used to make the road.
I came back to get the last two rounds. I banged them with the maul but they wouldn't budge. I tried several times, and then I heard a crack. The handle of the maul had split!
Well, I had better get the handle off so that I can put a new handle on next week. Get out a saw to cut the handle just below the head. Punch out the remains of the handle and the wedge that holds the handle in the head. Put all tools back and tuck the maul head in the SUV where it won't fly up and hit us on any sudden stop.
Finally, I loaded up the cart with a bunch of branches and took them back to the chipping pile.
When I came back it was time for a break. Will I get back to cut-up the downed tree. Maybe tomorrow.
After I wrote the above, my wife told me that there was an exclamation point above the "electricity dial" on the dashboard of our SUV. She told this to me about three in the afternoon; she had gone to the post office about eleven in the morning.
I went out to the SUV, started it up, and saw the low tire light come on. Oh, that's just because the weather is cold, she only went two miles each way. If we drive more, the tires will warm up and the light will go off. I got out with a sense of relief, and then I looked at the left rear tire. Flatter it could not be!
I got out the manual to review changing a tire. I found all the necessary tools under the back seat except the wheel blocks. We used a couple pieces of firewood instead.
The spare tire is underneath the vehicle. To drop it down, one puts an extension to the jack lever in a hole in the back door frame and cranks it down. Try as I might, I couldn't find any place to get the extension rod to fit into. I crawled under the car; I peered in the hole. Nada but frustration.
It started to get too dark to work outside and I gave up. The rest of the evening I brooded about what to do. Do we call a towing company in Two Harbors, thirty five miles and who knows how many dollars away? Do we ask some locals who to recommend? We tried one and got the answering machine and didn't leave a message. We tried a second and were given the advice to call a local jack-of-all trades, the guy who plows our driveway and does much more for us. Why didn't he get to the top of my list right away?
I called him and gave him our tale of woe, except not being able to get the spare down. He told me to bring in the tire in the morning. Somehow, that gave me enough reassurance that I didn't lie awake half the night mulling over various scenarios.
Bright and early today I got up, had breakfast, and prepared to resolve our transportation problem.
I tried again to lower the spare. Still the same poking around in the dark. OK, I'll take the tire off and have it ready for Kevin to pick it up.
The instructions say to loosen all the nuts one turn before jacking the car up. I'll skip a few missteps about gaining access to the wheel nuts. I started on one and pulled and pulled. On the third try it loosened and I turned it one turn. On to the second nut. Pull and pull! Once, twice, thrice, and on and on. This is getting ridiculous. I need an extender. I found a four-foot pipe in the shed and slipped it on the tire wrench. One try and the nut loosened. On to the third nut. Pull and pull! Once, twice, thrice, and no go. In fact, the tire wrench is bending!!! Now what?
I don't know exactly when the light bulb went on in my head, but I remembered that it was a slow leak and that we have been carrying for years a 12-volt air compressor, just for this contingency. Back to the cabin and get it out of our miscellaneous box. Untie the cords. Plug it into the dashboard power outlet (aka cigarette lighter). Put compressor valve on tire valve. Turn on! Clack! Clack! Clack! It looks like nothing is happening. Let the compressor clack away. Is it my imagination? Is it wishful thinking? Is the bulge really getting smaller? Yes! Yes! We are making progress.
Get out the tire gauge for when the tire looks full. Minutes go by and the tire keeps looking more normal. Check the pressure. 25.0 pounds! We're making good progress. Next check – 30.0 pounds. Third check - 34.5 pounds. Close enough to the recommended 35.0 pounds. And the low tire light is off!!!
And the low tire light stayed off all the way to Kevin's.
This tale is getting long, and so I'll make a quick summary. Kevin got the tire off with a pneumatic wrench. Whir, plop, six times. He bounced the tire around looking for damage. He couldn't fix it because of ply separation on the wall. Probably from being flat overnight. He did get the spare down easily by putting the extension rod in slightly off center opposite the way I kept trying.
I would have been out in a trice, but we chatted about where to buy what kind of new tires and logging and water wells and …
Now will I sleep well tonight or toss and turn about what funds to use to pay for a new set of tires? I know I don't want to have another winter worrying about skidding through an intersection like I've done with the current set of tires.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley. - Robert Burns
(The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry)
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