I am also tempted to try and figure out a way of making nicer patterns out of the bricks, and also figuring out whether or not my circular saw can be used to cut broken bricks to fill in the spaces between the different paths...
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Brick pavers
Thanks to all the bricks laying about from the 2000-2002 renovation of the S.T. Dana building, I utilised roughly one pallet to make paths that would otherwise be rather muddy during the springs. Over time, I hope that these will settle into the pathways and be more stable than they are now. Next thing to do is to consolidate multiple small piles of bricks into a single larger one.
I am also tempted to try and figure out a way of making nicer patterns out of the bricks, and also figuring out whether or not my circular saw can be used to cut broken bricks to fill in the spaces between the different paths...
I am also tempted to try and figure out a way of making nicer patterns out of the bricks, and also figuring out whether or not my circular saw can be used to cut broken bricks to fill in the spaces between the different paths...
More cleared willow
The area at the south end of Third Sister Lake has more willow cleared. Slowly, slowly, I suppose. A few more day's maintenance and it should be cleared out nicely. Meanwhile, there is a steady build-up of willow cuttings that are being dried for eventual burning.
This is Third Sister Lake in early Feburary.
Third Sister Lake today (some of the willow have been cut)
Piles of willow branches.
Cutting Willow
Yesterday I trimmed some of the willow near Third Sister Lake. Today I will finish it up. One statement about willow, though: it's a tenacious tree, and will grow in thicker each year. If it wasn't for the fact that its roots help hold down the bank, I would have tried to pull the roots... Photos coming of the results.
Of course, the anchoring ability of the trees is something that I wonder will help in shoring up the banks of the small creek that runs high every time there's rain or snowmelt... I'll have to talk with Bob Grese, who teaches methods in landscape restoration. (Maybe I can get him to come out here, too!)
Ahhh.... I spent two hours cutting willows and setting them out to dry for eventual bonfire burning. After that, I spent about three hours setting down bricks to make pathways. My arms are as tired as they have ever been, including when I used to be a live-in aikido student in Denver during 1999-2000.
My forearms are ... bleaugh. My lower back is also tight. I think I will have to go to the Relax Station. (Possibly tomorrow...) Hmmm...
Anywho, here are some of the photos from my maintenance work today.
Of course, the anchoring ability of the trees is something that I wonder will help in shoring up the banks of the small creek that runs high every time there's rain or snowmelt... I'll have to talk with Bob Grese, who teaches methods in landscape restoration. (Maybe I can get him to come out here, too!)
Ahhh.... I spent two hours cutting willows and setting them out to dry for eventual bonfire burning. After that, I spent about three hours setting down bricks to make pathways. My arms are as tired as they have ever been, including when I used to be a live-in aikido student in Denver during 1999-2000.
My forearms are ... bleaugh. My lower back is also tight. I think I will have to go to the Relax Station. (Possibly tomorrow...) Hmmm...
Anywho, here are some of the photos from my maintenance work today.
Clearing willow
Setting bricks as paving stones
Friday, March 6, 2009
Clearing fallen trees
Just cleared a bunch of fallen trees on the property. That was vigorous and fun work. Many of the fallen trees were over one foot in diameter, and some of them were soggy with snowmelt, making the cutting difficult and the moving-out-of-the-way also difficult.
It started off somewhat annoyingly -- I'll admit that I didn't remember how to prime the chainsaw prior to it starting, but after a few minutes of fiddling, I figured it out. The previous caretakers told me that they had changed the chain prior to leaving, and the thing did cut like a hot knife through butter.
If I do end up getting a stove put in, then I am definitely up for doing more of that chainsawing. (Of course, I say that now... who knows what the future holds. Would I say that in September and October, when I have to start collecting the wood to burn during the winter? We'll see. If the school OKs the installation of a stove, of course.)
It started off somewhat annoyingly -- I'll admit that I didn't remember how to prime the chainsaw prior to it starting, but after a few minutes of fiddling, I figured it out. The previous caretakers told me that they had changed the chain prior to leaving, and the thing did cut like a hot knife through butter.
If I do end up getting a stove put in, then I am definitely up for doing more of that chainsawing. (Of course, I say that now... who knows what the future holds. Would I say that in September and October, when I have to start collecting the wood to burn during the winter? We'll see. If the school OKs the installation of a stove, of course.)
Friday, February 6, 2009
Living in the woods
Now that I live in a small cabin in the woods, I have a new appreciation for several things that I didn't realize that I took for granted.
Distance. I now live roughly 4 miles to the central campus of the University of Michigan. That means a 20-minute bike ride through ice-and-snow covered woody trails to the road, and then down the long slope to downtown, up the other side of the valley of the under-grounded river, and along the boulevard to the university campus. (It's a 40-minute bike ride back home). Oh, and there's minimal street-lighting for the mile near the woods, making night-time riding "fun and interesting".
This means that I have to adjust my lifestyle a little bit. First off, if I realize that I have forgotten something after I hit mile two, I'm not going back for it. Second, the importance of being seen by cars is very high, so I purchased some Blackburn Fleas - really bright rear and front flashing lights. Third, since I don't have a motor-vehicle (and no laundry facilities in-home), I bring my laundry in to drop it off to get washed and folded near campus. Fourth, since I have a large stores on my way home, I can easily make small detour trips to get stuff without having a need to make one huge trip on a weekend.
The plus side of cycling 8 miles a day is that I have started shedding poundage.
Heat. The cottage in which I live is probably close to 100 years in age, and isn't much bigger than a large studio apartment (but it has a loft). One problem, though, is that the windows are old wooden-framed things that really could do with an upgrade to double-glazing that actually closes all the way. Additionally, there is no duct-work in the place, and with a chimney that doesn't draw very well on one end of the room, and a gas furnace with no distribution system on the other end, I find myself constantly thinking about warmth. (Not in the yearning-for-it sense, but more in the it's-in-the-back-of-my-mind sense.) Walking around nekkid during the winter time isn't really an option - if I want to stay warm, that is.
In-door Plumbing. Yes. I have an outhouse. The trek out there at night can be annoying, especially during winter. Luckily, the outhouse does have a space-heater and a light, meaning that cold dark nights are less cold and dark inside the outhouse. I do have an indoor shower and running water in my sink, though. So showering and cleaning dishes isn't that difficult. Still, no laundry, and no dishwasher (not that I need the latter).
Solitude. Being alone in the woods is nice. Really nice. So nice that you really can get quite annoyed when people come traipsing along like it's some sort of public park. True, the public are allowed to walk around in the woods, but it isn't a park. Nor is it their personal place to have their dogs run around off their leashes. (Some people are really. Really. Annoying.)
Cycling. Ask me a year ago if I thought that living 4 miles out of town was a great idea, I would likely have told you that I wasn't for it. However, ask me if I wanted to be a caretaker of a university property 4 miles out of town, I probably would have said yes even then. Especially since I purchased my bike, the commute into town has been not-that-bad (recall, too, that I've only been cycling that route since the end of January, and we've had plenty of sub-zero Fahrenheit weather). The only thing that I wish I really had was some footwear that would keep my toes warm while riding through near-zero (Fahrenheit) temperatures.
Distance. I now live roughly 4 miles to the central campus of the University of Michigan. That means a 20-minute bike ride through ice-and-snow covered woody trails to the road, and then down the long slope to downtown, up the other side of the valley of the under-grounded river, and along the boulevard to the university campus. (It's a 40-minute bike ride back home). Oh, and there's minimal street-lighting for the mile near the woods, making night-time riding "fun and interesting".
This means that I have to adjust my lifestyle a little bit. First off, if I realize that I have forgotten something after I hit mile two, I'm not going back for it. Second, the importance of being seen by cars is very high, so I purchased some Blackburn Fleas - really bright rear and front flashing lights. Third, since I don't have a motor-vehicle (and no laundry facilities in-home), I bring my laundry in to drop it off to get washed and folded near campus. Fourth, since I have a large stores on my way home, I can easily make small detour trips to get stuff without having a need to make one huge trip on a weekend.
The plus side of cycling 8 miles a day is that I have started shedding poundage.
Heat. The cottage in which I live is probably close to 100 years in age, and isn't much bigger than a large studio apartment (but it has a loft). One problem, though, is that the windows are old wooden-framed things that really could do with an upgrade to double-glazing that actually closes all the way. Additionally, there is no duct-work in the place, and with a chimney that doesn't draw very well on one end of the room, and a gas furnace with no distribution system on the other end, I find myself constantly thinking about warmth. (Not in the yearning-for-it sense, but more in the it's-in-the-back-of-my-mind sense.) Walking around nekkid during the winter time isn't really an option - if I want to stay warm, that is.
In-door Plumbing. Yes. I have an outhouse. The trek out there at night can be annoying, especially during winter. Luckily, the outhouse does have a space-heater and a light, meaning that cold dark nights are less cold and dark inside the outhouse. I do have an indoor shower and running water in my sink, though. So showering and cleaning dishes isn't that difficult. Still, no laundry, and no dishwasher (not that I need the latter).
Solitude. Being alone in the woods is nice. Really nice. So nice that you really can get quite annoyed when people come traipsing along like it's some sort of public park. True, the public are allowed to walk around in the woods, but it isn't a park. Nor is it their personal place to have their dogs run around off their leashes. (Some people are really. Really. Annoying.)
Cycling. Ask me a year ago if I thought that living 4 miles out of town was a great idea, I would likely have told you that I wasn't for it. However, ask me if I wanted to be a caretaker of a university property 4 miles out of town, I probably would have said yes even then. Especially since I purchased my bike, the commute into town has been not-that-bad (recall, too, that I've only been cycling that route since the end of January, and we've had plenty of sub-zero Fahrenheit weather). The only thing that I wish I really had was some footwear that would keep my toes warm while riding through near-zero (Fahrenheit) temperatures.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Moved in to Saginaw Forest
I'm "all moved in" to Saginaw Forest caretaker cottage. The quotes indicate that "in-between" stage of moving in: still have some things that I want to do with the place, and some things that I have to unpack.
I'm also thinking about building a major wall-unit on the south-wall of the house - partially for storage, partially for insulation. This wall-unit would have shelves above a section for my futons - which would be either on the floor (as they are currently), or on a small riser. Behind the back-support board, I think I'll put in some storage for larger things - linens, pillows, etc. - for when I have a guest over (so they can easily use the futon).
The wall-unit would allow for me to customize the height of the shelves for DVDs, CDs, hardcover fiction books, paperbacks, folders, etc. to maximize the amount of storage possible.
As for insulation, I'm thinking that it would be nice to back the shelves with some sort of foam, but I'm worried about possible condensation between the wall and the insulation. Maybe I don't need to be, but I just am... If it will be a problem, then I won't do it, and just satisfy myself with the shelving unit.
I'm also thinking about building a major wall-unit on the south-wall of the house - partially for storage, partially for insulation. This wall-unit would have shelves above a section for my futons - which would be either on the floor (as they are currently), or on a small riser. Behind the back-support board, I think I'll put in some storage for larger things - linens, pillows, etc. - for when I have a guest over (so they can easily use the futon).
The wall-unit would allow for me to customize the height of the shelves for DVDs, CDs, hardcover fiction books, paperbacks, folders, etc. to maximize the amount of storage possible.
As for insulation, I'm thinking that it would be nice to back the shelves with some sort of foam, but I'm worried about possible condensation between the wall and the insulation. Maybe I don't need to be, but I just am... If it will be a problem, then I won't do it, and just satisfy myself with the shelving unit.
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