Close but no cigar
Despite predictions of dire frost, it was sunny and bright all day today. I went to Wilderstead to attempt to finish the flue installation. Got the remainder of the outside work done (caulking around the flashing and sealing the chimney where it pierces the wall). Got most
of the chimney inside done, but . . . when I was trying to get the last piece installed, I discovered that I had about six inches between the horizontal and vertical pipes (counting the elbow). So that means I need ONE more piece of black pipe -- and somebody to help me install it, since it's really a two-man job (working overhead with suspended pipe). But I should have it done next week. Huzzah!
Meanwhile, the day was lovely, the holler peaceful, the drive over pleasant, and the shopping in Florence magnificent. The drive back was a bit of a bummer, but only because these twelve-hour days are hard on a guy my age. Really, middle age is just one long (losing) negotiation with decrepitude. You lose two steps, you buckle down and work to get one back; then you lose three steps, you work like blazes to get two back -- but you're always falling behind, one step at a time. Still and all, though, it's good to be alive.
Go outside about 9 p.m. these days and look toward the west-northwest. Cygnus the Swan is standing on his nose, just above the horizon, making a giant Cross.
The heavens are telling the glory of God;He is coming. Alleluia.
and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.