The Adventures of a Middle Kid
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The Shelter Saga

10/7/2016

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And a Bonus Feature: BARN BILGE

As some of you may know, Daddy and I went about making a period tent for the Perryville Reenactment (which if you recall, I decided to skip in case health took a nose-dive).
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Katherine gave this thing some sort of name that calls to mind a fat Roman senator's toga....
Well, Daddy waterproofed it with boiled linseed oil mixed with mineral spirits--an authentic waterproofing mix.
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It just so happened to be wet and rainy that day--so he did it in the garage, intending to leave it there to dry. Well, it smelled so strongly that it was decreed that it must be moved--so we took it to the barn and strung it up in the back. 

Um. Well. That was not going to do either for Grandma soon called and declared that it was really making the apartment reek. SO, it got laid over the hoop-house greenhouse where it proceeded to be rained on all night and the next day. It did wash some of the waterproofing out (as it most definitely had not dried yet!).

We eventually got it set up in the yard to dry further and if I do say so myself, it didn't look too bad out there:
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Due to the composition of the waterproofing, we knew we needed to be careful and let it really dry good before storing it as such compounds do have the potential for spontaneous combustion.

We let it sit for 24 hours or so and would have left it longer except that we suspected rain was on the way again so we took it down and packed it, not too tightly rolled, in and unsealed box and left it in the back of the go-buggy under the lean-to for the night.

Next morning (it didn't rain, by the way), we headed out to set it back up. We had the posts all out and Daddy strolled into the shop to grind a few notches deeper while I continued unloading.

Well, I started to pull the tent out of the box when I noticed smoke curling out! I hollered (I think and very likely in a nasty tone) and started pulling the canvas out, unrolling it as I went. 

​I was already grumpy and the sight of my tent left me in a very nasty mood...
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It was ruined. Completely. 

My anger was followed up by tears and Daddy couldn't help himself and started laughing...it was an interesting experiment even if I couldn't see it at the time. Then, both he and Mom reminded me of all the graces God had blessed us with in the whole situation--damage could have been done to property--the Suburban...and it wasn't. The only thing ruined or harmed was the tent itself--even the fly was fine. 

Anyway, we drug the charred canvas up to the burn pit--and actually lit it afire today; but that brings us into the second part of this chronicle: Barn Bilge

Perhaps I ought to look up the exact meaning of the word "bilge"--just to see if it fits and that I wasn't stretching myself trying to find an alliteration...

*shuffles through definitions*

Okay, so bilge works...

While Grandma, Mom, and KT headed off to visit my Aunt Celinda, Daddy and I prepared ourselves to begin on the Barn Bilge Busting Business. (Now, how's that for an alliteration?) He had to run to the bank, so I sat here at my desk (for the first time in weeks...yay! I got it cleaned off--again) and wrote a couple of letters. We decided to lunch before commencing business and summarily consumed the lamb sandwich/sandwichy thing (depending on wh0 we're looking at here) that was our luncheon. Then we had coffee...and got out to the barn at roughly 1 pm. We wouldn't call it quits until after 6 pm. I'll say here up front, I do believe this is the hardest that I have worked all year and I know for sure that it's the dirtiest I've been! It felt kinda satisfying. 

We were supposed to clean out the north bay. I don't remember if I suggested it or not, but we decided to clear the hay loft of the ancient hay first. That took all afternoon. I neglected to keep a tally of the intact bales we hauled out and burned, but it was quite a few. And then there was a couple of trips with the loose stuff...and then at least twenty 50lb. feed-sacks full of "sweepings" (the bits and odd ends, plus dirt, of course). Daddy helped me throw the intact bales (except for a few of them) onto the fire, but the rest of it I managed myself. The fire, by the way, was actually started via the aforementioned tent.

While I was loading and scraping and burning down below, Daddy was up in the loft, moving and sweeping and tossing and scraping. It's actually beginning to look like something other than random stacks of bird poop covered rough cut boards (my great-grandfather owned a sawmill) and mounds of at least 60-year-old hay...and an odd door and a hunk of steel (the flywheel power shaft from the mill, I think) and some old dirty nail kegs, etc. I forgot to mention my extra bee-hive components. They are up there too.

Oh, and Baby Cat came up at some point and looked all around like, "What are you doing?" And probably a little, "HEY...where'd the bedding go??"

Anyway, Daddy overdid and so far I don't feel like I overdid--but tomorrow will tell. My back is a little sore (as is the bridge of my nose--but am I ever glad I was wearing that respirator mask!!) and my wrists are also somewhat sore and stiff...but it was a good day's work and worth it. 

If I had been at all on the ball, I would have taken some "Before" shots so any "After" shots I might take would have a little more context. Oh well. I didn't.

And...that about sums up the day. Sounds rather unexciting on pa--digits--and I suppose it rather is unexciting if you aren't looking at things from the "correct" perspective. ;) 

     Racheal

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    The Middle Kid

    I chose to title this blog "The Adventures of a Middle Kid" because that is exactly what I'll be detailing (mostly). I chose 'kid' over any other word, like 'girl' (I am the middle girl so it also would have worked) or 'child'
    (since I am no longer exactly a child).

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