Clear skies
Sep. 19th, 2020 22:20![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillSo, yesterday was Friday. Thursday afternoon I started to hear rumbling sounds, and it took a clear peal before I realized my aunt was not moving furniture. She thought I'd fallen out of bed. Turns out thunderstorms here are more dramatic than they are at home.
The storm front continued through the evening, and was still going when I went to bed. The phone went out around dinnertime, and spurred me to unplug all the electronics just in case our power was next. The power didn't go out, though every time thunder crashed from right on top of us I was happy my computer was safe.
The rain came through in soaking waves, and was still threatening showers Friday morning. I dropped Jenny at the flea market, after taking her boxes to the post office, and headed off to Salem; the air quality was already much better in Willamina, and I could see it was 200 points better than it had been in Salem. So I took my laundry and shower things as well.
Salem smelled like a doused campfire. I spent an hour percolating through the Marion County fairgrounds, trying to see whether any of the livestock evac areas wanted seven buckets of William's Pride apples; the goats and sheep already had buckets of apples, and the horses were on strictly controlled rations (I should have guessed as much). I decided the drop-off for human supplies was worth a try, and they happily took the apples off my hands. It might take a bit of sorting, but there were plenty of perfectly good apples in there.
I did a load of laundry, had a shower, and headed out while my second load was going. After lunch I headed for southbound I-5 to take me to Trader Joe's, and just as I was merging onto the unfamiliar and busy interstate, it started to pour cats and dogs. Half-inch drops hit my windshield like hail. I poked along at 50 in the slow lane and got off without incident. Not having remembered my raincoat, I stood in the rain waiting to get into TJ's... it wasn't cold or windy, and I didn't mind the wet. It's interesting how I slip back into Tacoma habits so easily.
I got the rest of my shopping done, collected my laundry and had a word with Conrad, then headed back to fetch Jenny. The AQI everywhere was in the 20s or better; I don't expect that to last in Salem, but I can hope that at least some of that soaking rain reached the Cascades. It couldn't hurt.
My glee at the improvement in the air quality smashed to the ground in the early evening when I heard Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died. Talk about highs and lows in one day.
Today it was still raining a bit in the morning. I picked a pint of Aronia, which is finally ripening in bunches, a couple of clusters of early elderberries, and the last of the blueberries between showers, then I cleared the tires and bricks out of the garden. I was too tired to pull the carpet up, and the sun was descending, so I conceded the yard to the incipient no-see-ums and went in to take a break.
After some food, in the early evening, I decided to see whether I could put the back porch door together. I had been waiting on the Forstner bits to re-drill some of the dowel holes, and that was quickly accomplished, so I figured I could slather glue on the pieces and fit them. Why not?
That beast fought me at every turn. Joints I *knew* had dowels the right length balked with 3/4" to go. It snapped two dowels (note to self: never re-use old dowels, they're brittle). One I drilled out and replaced, the other I simply left broken. The panels refused to fit into their slots. I had a devil of a time positioning the half-built door; either I was reaching across it all the time, or it was trying to fall over when set on end. All the time, the glue was drying.
My only saviors were the deadblow hammer and the three pipe clamps. I should have set them on the longer pipes before I started fitting, as I had to pause to hammer one of them off a shorter pipe, but even when they were only long enough to reach across one vertical stile and a cross-rail, they allowed me to press the joints into place. I used one to fit the bottom panel, pressing in both directions alternately until it seated. And once I put glue on all the joints on the other side and started fitting on the latch-side stile (which still had the doorknob attached, so it was hanging off the edge of the worktable) the only possible way to snug together all five joints at once, including four dowels on the bottom rail alone, was by screwing the whole thing tight with the three pipe clamps.
I checked it for square when I was done. One diagonal was 0.25" longer than the other, so I slid it off the table (oof) and bounced one corner on the floor, but it didn't change anything. That's an acceptable level of skew, sure, I just wanted to see whether I could completely correct it. As it is, it's better than the inch or more differential it had had when I took it apart, and it won't even need the sutures at top and bottom to hold it together now...
I'll let it dry for a day or so on the bench. I have a bit of wood filler for some of the holes and gouges, though it will never be beautiful (it's "rustic"). I'll cut at least one piece of replacement window trim, as the bottom piece is in sad shape, then make sure the glass and trim pieces fit properly. I'd rather leave the glass installation until after I've hung the door: a 25-pound slab of oak is not something easily hung even on new hinges, and I may have to fight with the old ones. Better not to have a piece of glass at face-level while I'm doing it.
I should probably paint it before hanging, too, and paint the trim separately... I can touch up the nail holes afterward. I'd rather paint it on sawhorses than when it's vertical, even if it means wrestling it to turn it over. I managed to get some "Safety Red" from Sherwin Williams which, I hope, will be the proper shade of bright red to match the other doors around here. I still need to pick up a can of white gloss trim paint for the inside face, but I can start with primer and the red in the meantime. I got the Zinsser 1-2-3 on sale, which is fortunate because I wasn't going to get any other primer for this. Goodness knows what paint has been used on it in the last century, the exposed wood is dry and weathered, and it'll get the brunt of hot summer sun and cold winter rain... the Zinsser has proven itself bulletproof before this. I strongly suspect it has shellac in it to allow it to stick to all paint types. Whatever magic it has, I hope it will save me from having to re-paint the door for a couple of decades.
By the time I had finished with the door, it was only 10pm, but the house was dark. I let myself in by phone flashlight, had a snack, and I'm about ready for bed myself. I feel like I'm starting to get back into harness after two weeks of fire and smoke.
The storm front continued through the evening, and was still going when I went to bed. The phone went out around dinnertime, and spurred me to unplug all the electronics just in case our power was next. The power didn't go out, though every time thunder crashed from right on top of us I was happy my computer was safe.
The rain came through in soaking waves, and was still threatening showers Friday morning. I dropped Jenny at the flea market, after taking her boxes to the post office, and headed off to Salem; the air quality was already much better in Willamina, and I could see it was 200 points better than it had been in Salem. So I took my laundry and shower things as well.
Salem smelled like a doused campfire. I spent an hour percolating through the Marion County fairgrounds, trying to see whether any of the livestock evac areas wanted seven buckets of William's Pride apples; the goats and sheep already had buckets of apples, and the horses were on strictly controlled rations (I should have guessed as much). I decided the drop-off for human supplies was worth a try, and they happily took the apples off my hands. It might take a bit of sorting, but there were plenty of perfectly good apples in there.
I did a load of laundry, had a shower, and headed out while my second load was going. After lunch I headed for southbound I-5 to take me to Trader Joe's, and just as I was merging onto the unfamiliar and busy interstate, it started to pour cats and dogs. Half-inch drops hit my windshield like hail. I poked along at 50 in the slow lane and got off without incident. Not having remembered my raincoat, I stood in the rain waiting to get into TJ's... it wasn't cold or windy, and I didn't mind the wet. It's interesting how I slip back into Tacoma habits so easily.
I got the rest of my shopping done, collected my laundry and had a word with Conrad, then headed back to fetch Jenny. The AQI everywhere was in the 20s or better; I don't expect that to last in Salem, but I can hope that at least some of that soaking rain reached the Cascades. It couldn't hurt.
My glee at the improvement in the air quality smashed to the ground in the early evening when I heard Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died. Talk about highs and lows in one day.
Today it was still raining a bit in the morning. I picked a pint of Aronia, which is finally ripening in bunches, a couple of clusters of early elderberries, and the last of the blueberries between showers, then I cleared the tires and bricks out of the garden. I was too tired to pull the carpet up, and the sun was descending, so I conceded the yard to the incipient no-see-ums and went in to take a break.
After some food, in the early evening, I decided to see whether I could put the back porch door together. I had been waiting on the Forstner bits to re-drill some of the dowel holes, and that was quickly accomplished, so I figured I could slather glue on the pieces and fit them. Why not?
That beast fought me at every turn. Joints I *knew* had dowels the right length balked with 3/4" to go. It snapped two dowels (note to self: never re-use old dowels, they're brittle). One I drilled out and replaced, the other I simply left broken. The panels refused to fit into their slots. I had a devil of a time positioning the half-built door; either I was reaching across it all the time, or it was trying to fall over when set on end. All the time, the glue was drying.
My only saviors were the deadblow hammer and the three pipe clamps. I should have set them on the longer pipes before I started fitting, as I had to pause to hammer one of them off a shorter pipe, but even when they were only long enough to reach across one vertical stile and a cross-rail, they allowed me to press the joints into place. I used one to fit the bottom panel, pressing in both directions alternately until it seated. And once I put glue on all the joints on the other side and started fitting on the latch-side stile (which still had the doorknob attached, so it was hanging off the edge of the worktable) the only possible way to snug together all five joints at once, including four dowels on the bottom rail alone, was by screwing the whole thing tight with the three pipe clamps.
I checked it for square when I was done. One diagonal was 0.25" longer than the other, so I slid it off the table (oof) and bounced one corner on the floor, but it didn't change anything. That's an acceptable level of skew, sure, I just wanted to see whether I could completely correct it. As it is, it's better than the inch or more differential it had had when I took it apart, and it won't even need the sutures at top and bottom to hold it together now...
I'll let it dry for a day or so on the bench. I have a bit of wood filler for some of the holes and gouges, though it will never be beautiful (it's "rustic"). I'll cut at least one piece of replacement window trim, as the bottom piece is in sad shape, then make sure the glass and trim pieces fit properly. I'd rather leave the glass installation until after I've hung the door: a 25-pound slab of oak is not something easily hung even on new hinges, and I may have to fight with the old ones. Better not to have a piece of glass at face-level while I'm doing it.
I should probably paint it before hanging, too, and paint the trim separately... I can touch up the nail holes afterward. I'd rather paint it on sawhorses than when it's vertical, even if it means wrestling it to turn it over. I managed to get some "Safety Red" from Sherwin Williams which, I hope, will be the proper shade of bright red to match the other doors around here. I still need to pick up a can of white gloss trim paint for the inside face, but I can start with primer and the red in the meantime. I got the Zinsser 1-2-3 on sale, which is fortunate because I wasn't going to get any other primer for this. Goodness knows what paint has been used on it in the last century, the exposed wood is dry and weathered, and it'll get the brunt of hot summer sun and cold winter rain... the Zinsser has proven itself bulletproof before this. I strongly suspect it has shellac in it to allow it to stick to all paint types. Whatever magic it has, I hope it will save me from having to re-paint the door for a couple of decades.
By the time I had finished with the door, it was only 10pm, but the house was dark. I let myself in by phone flashlight, had a snack, and I'm about ready for bed myself. I feel like I'm starting to get back into harness after two weeks of fire and smoke.
