RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,312
(the emperor of nothing, part FOURTEEN)
There are certain things I hate:
I hate when people tell me I'm
getting skinny. It scares me, and
I don't think I am. To compensate,
I drink beer, in the hopes of gaining
weight, or at least a beer belly,
which I assume also has weight?
I hate when people call me a jerk,
which - while mostly justified -
seems only a way of avoiding
actually discussing whatever it
I'd just said to get that label.
Or written. Mostly I don't see
people to 'talk' to. Jack Stove,
to date, has never said anything
disparaging about me, but then
again, he really knows little about
me. It takes time to develop any
character or relationship, and we've
never really put anything into that.
-
I asked Jack what he did all Winter,
meaning when the really bad storms
and weather hit in. He said, 'I do
manage to get by. Gotta' have lots
of wood to burn, which I always
try to keep ahead of. Getting any
of those service trucks down here
is tough - anything with ice or
eight inches of snow or more, they
start claiming they can't make it
down the damn road. Or if they get
down, they can't always get back
out without a struggle. It becomes
a problem, so I have to watch the
calendar for the approaching
seasons and weather patterns -
for getting the propane tanks
refilled, or if the well has a
problem pump problem or the
septic-system needs pumping.
There's always something that
January, February, or March
calls forth.' I knew all that and
it was pretty much the same
with me, so none of that was
news nor anything unique. I
have a long, twisting and uphill
driveway to get up to my own
house and for the Winter months
the usual truck drivers always
bellyache or won't come up it
due to ice coats or snow, etc.
Then they bill you for a failed
or 'attempted delivery service
charge. A real pain, and one that
he didn't mention. But, it was all
a start of breaking the info-ice
between us.
-
It would seem obvious that anyone
venturing to settle into a place of
the likes and position that he did
would expect various troubles of
that nature. But the 'modern' world
too brings with it the newer concerns
of things like internet and cable
access, phones and Wifi and poles
for the usual services - electricity,
etc. I guessed that - even as he
didn't have that stuff, as the very
last place on an isolated and long
dirt road - the other people who had
homes erected on the earlier stretches
of that long dirt road must have all
those services, especially with
kids and school and family needs.
I just filed it away in the 'whatever'
column. In my purview of things,
none of that matters much, and it
was merely incidental.
-
It doesn't happen any more, but
back in the 1970's in Columbia
Crossroads, most of the people
were living in old farmhouses that
dated from the 1880's or before,
or anyway around the turn of 1900.
That was before any forms of either
electrification or sanitation and
'bathrooms,' for the most part. So
you'd see the thick fabric-covered
wires (some kind of insulation, I
think) and all and any of the 'new'
electrification' stuff coming down
the walls, secured in place, etc.
INSIDE the house, discretely put
along the interior walls, etc. Now,
of course, all of that is built within
the walls - part of the original design,
planned within and hidden, up to
codes and safely taken care of. In
those old homes, I can recall, they
used, often enough, beautiful little
ceramic switches and such, for the
turn-on and turn-off items. I always
found it far and away fascinating.
And, as well (these both include
the house I lived in) the original
outhouse was still outside somewhere,
and the interior plumbing - toilet,
tub, maybe a stall for a shower, and
a sink, etc., - had all been brought
inside and made as a bathroom simply
by replacing one of the regular, larger,
rooms (in my case, a rectangular, large
bedroom had been transformed into a
quite spacious bathroom, upstairs,
and with the two, large bedroom
windows still in place. There was
a large, claw-foot, free-standing
bath-tub too). Downstairs, a rickety
addition to the rear of the house
held a compartmentalized separate
bathroom, with a shower stall. That
was some cool luxury, right of the
rear, mud-room, entryway.
-
I wondered if Jack Stove had had
any experience with those sorts of
things in his own past. I was never
a very good hammer and nails guy,
and just kind of half-assed repaired
things as needed - but I knew
that a lot of these local fellows
were meticulous to a fault over such
things as repairs, construction and
re-construction, and other hands-on
sorts of repairs and building. I
figured, there too, I'd manage to
get around to ask him.
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