|
|
|
bait & switch pottery shed raising
Sunday, July 10 2016
On most Sundays, Gretchen likes to take Neville to work with her so he can spends some hours as a bookstore dog. Unlike Ramona, he has the right temperament for it, and it's possible he encourages people to buy books. But when Gretchen headed off to her shift at the Golden Notebook late this morning, Neville hadn't yet returned from the forest. But that was okay because I'd be going to Woodstock later and could bring him then. Rich, the guy who runs the pottery operation at Byrdcliffe, had convinced me to help him with the construction of a new building designed to house a new kiln. He'd told me there would be beer and food and all my friends would be there. He made it sound like one big party, and I wanted to help out, so I'd agreed to go.
Neville and Ramona rode with me to Woodstock, and I dropped Neville off with Gretchen at the Golden Notebook. Ramona and I continued up to Byrdcliffe pottery barn, where I set her loose. The vehicles are moving fairly slowly on Upper Byrdcliffe Road, so I didn't worry about her getting by a car. I was more worried about her bothering the guys working on the kiln shed. But she wasn't too intrusive, and the guys didn't seem to mind her being there. When I arrived, there were a good three or four real carpenters there finishing up the framing of the walls. The lumber appeared to be locally-sourced hemlock custom-milled into two by sixes that were actually very close to measuring two inches by six inches.
Amusingly, I didn't know anyone there except for Rich and a high school kid who'd been in my recent pottery class and proven himself to be something of a pottery prodigy. And there certainly wasn't any beer; all I saw was hot coffee, cold Sanpellagrino sparkling fruit beverages, some bagels, and some butter if one wanted it. But, despite the bait & switch, I'd come to help out and was determined to do so.
I'd shown up just before a bunch of the guys were to leave for the day. Once they were gone, the only people remaining with carpentry skills (and this didn't include the young pottery prodigy or an older woman going around picking up wooden scraps) was Rich, me, and an older handyman. For awhile I stood around with nothing to do while Rich and the handyman tried to figure out what to do next. Eventually I decided I needed some sunblock if I was going to be standing around in the sun; my prescription of doxycyline supposedly makes me susceptible to sunburn, and I didn't want to risk it. So I drove into Woodstock and got a big bottle of the stuff with the highers SPF value I could find (50). It was marketed "for kids," evidently because adults always want lower SPF values in hopes of getting a little bit bronzed. While in Woodstock, I also got a sixpack of Red Stripe beer. If Rich wasn't going to have any on offer, I was going to have one by myself. I managed to chug down a whole bottle on the drive back up to Byrdcliffe. When I returned, I found Rich and the handyman fretting about how to prepare a brand new nailgun for use. The instructions said it needed a few drops of SAE 20 oil. I had some SAE 30 in my car, but Rich didn't want to risk it, so I returned yet again to Woodstock to get a little can of the specified stuff. I also dropped in on Gretchen, but found the store empty; she and Neville were out in back so he could urinate and snort around among the many fragrances there.
Back at Byrdcliffe, we finally started doing some work. We built a couple headers and installed them over the site of a future window and a future doorway. A little rain spattered us briefly, but then it was sunny again. Once the headers were installed, Rich decided to call it a day. I'd only been there about three hours. Ramona, who had gotten tired of sniffing around the grounds and bothering a yappy little dog down in one of the cabins, had decided to hang out in my Subaru.
On my way out of Woodstock, I stopped again at the Golden Notebook and asked Gretchen if it might be better if I took Neville home with me. She would be going out for dinner later, so she decided that made the best sense. Sadly, at least two different people showed up after he'd left hoping to see him again.
This evening I heard the first Katydid of the year. It was making that sound they make early in the season, when they are excited and new and haven't settled into the somewhat-depressing cha-cha-cha-cha thing that foretells the end of summer. It's a an explosive single buzz with a few clicks and pops overlaid upon it.
For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?160710 feedback
previous | next |
