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"The force that through the green fuse drives the flower/
​drives
my green age..."

-dylan thomas

Triangles and Nests Part I

9/7/2016

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I am working on my Second Triangle.
 
This is my First Triangle:
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​I hadn’t started my blog when I made First Triangle, but I think it’s worth mentioning because I did this all by myself--and I don’t even know what I’m doing! I framed it, nailed plywood to the frame, collected various discarded, recycled, reclaimed and damaged wood, laid it out, nailed it down in a special way that would allow the entire thing to break into two pieces so I could get it into the loft, trimmed the edges with a circular saw (a little husband-help on that one), broke off the frame so it wouldn’t be so heavy, hoisted it up the ladder (again with the help) and crammed it in there! It looks amazing!
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With the exception of the circular saw edge trimming I did in the barn, I cut everything by hand.
 
And now I am typing this perched on a bench, taking a break from cutting more wood by hand. Honestly, a little less Little House of the Prairie at this point would be okay with me. My right arm and shoulder are going to be twice the size of the left. I would not feel like I was missing out on any authentic homesteading experience if I had an electric saw. But the electric saw is a quarter of a mile away in the barn and that just doesn’t work for the creative process. Perhaps the bragging rights to “I cut all this wood by hand” will come in handy for years to come. In case I didn’t mention it, when it came to the floor I recently finished, I cut all that wood by hand!
 
I was right, that did feel pretty good.
 
There’s something about having to go slowly—hand saw vs. electric saw-- that changes everything for me. I have to be surer of my choices because there’s going to be a lot of work involved. It forces me to plan better instead of speeding through stuff—which is what I normally prefer. Strangely enough, speeding through stuff has never benefited me very much, and yet I persist in this behavior. Well, I’ve spent most of my life doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result—so any time I am NOT doing that, I’m breaking new ground. 

Back to Second Triangle. I am using the leftover flooring to piece together a wall covering for the north end of the cabin. I used tape to keep it stable while I messed around with it. It seemed to work out ok.
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There are several things I have to consider while sawing: there’re flesh and bone concerns of course, and respiratory issues (I am allergic to many things—but that is going to be a future topic) but the biggest trepidation at the moment seems to be a random wasp’s nest that my husband and I decided to “allow” because, at the time, it seemed out of the way.
 
In the beginning, everyone wanted to live in my loft. Wasps, yellow jackets, mud daubers, hornets…We just wanted them to live somewhere else. My family and I are pretty selective about what we are willing to kill in the name of our personal convenience and comfort. Mostly we displace things when possible. When we first cleared out the loft area, there were a lot of these:
 
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​My husband kept gently knocking them down, talking to them (he talks to everything) encouraging them to build elsewhere. But some of them were tenacious, and so, after doing some research online, I fashioned FAKE nests and hung them from the rafters. It worked brilliantly—almost everybody stayed away. But to be fair, it might have been the pennies hanging in the plastic sandwich bags filled with water. I am still not sure what the deal is with that, but it’s an old folk remedy… Pondering the effectiveness of this with a friend, he muttered, “Chump change…” He might be right…
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​With no new nests being built in the rafters of the loft, and most of the wasps finding other building spots, there wasn’t a lot of activity anymore. So when we noticed someone building under the dented metal roof, we decided to leave it. Like I said, it seemed out of the way at the time. But the bigger it gets, and the more established it becomes, the more territorial the wasps are becoming. I’ve had no problems with the wasps until now—they really seem disinterested in me. If I leave them alone, they leave me alone.
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It seems, however, that I am not “leaving them alone” anymore. With their babies in place and a modestly thriving colony in action, they don’t like it when I make too much noise!!! Hammering and sawing and swearing are setting them off! Before, they never cared. Before I took comfort in the knowledge that I was not disturbing them and I had confidence that they would not disturb me—but now…they think I’m a predator or something and they are getting riled up.

​More later.
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    Gillian Gontard wants a lot of things--she's trying to change that..

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