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Ahead Warp One. Crushin’ it. haHa-trekkie humor.

After refinishing the wood of the Kennedy Rocker, I decided to cane-weave the seat and back myself (the closest to caning I’ve been would be a macrame stint in 3rd grade that resulted in a plant hanger and an owl). Factoid: a bundle of caning is called a Hank. This was a two Hank project. I Hanked the Rocker, but the chair is also named Hank.

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Nora photobombs are always glam. Also, Wefting right along- haHa! Nose on a Stick! (obscure Colbert reference from Harvey Birdman still used by ED in our coded nitwittery.)

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Wefting to the right, after backfilling the left with Weft.  

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New England Porch Weave is the pattern I laid down.

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My weftin goes aaall the way-around!

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Need a sarsaparilla whiskey and some high humidity to get a true sense of porch settin’.

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Rocker Back front.

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Rocker Back back.

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Rocker Seat: a square with two triangles.

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Acreage of cane ache.

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Lantana at full power.

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Lantana anchors the porch and brings in Hummingbirds.

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Can almost see these in Hummingbird ultraviolet sight.

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Fall Asters holding on to purple, as the huge hummingbird bush flares out.

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Deep field Hubble view.

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30 quail in the yard; 2 of ’em on the roof with some of the zillions of LBJ’s below.

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Nora’s safe space from the cats. They are everywhere and nowhere, ready to pounce!

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Garage Sale Kennedy Rocker; 6 hours of refinishing later.

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Her cane backing and seat had rotted away, so “before” was $10 at a yard sale.

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Oak comes back to life with persistence.

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Next I order in 3 hanks of Binder Cane and a how-to manual for Porch Weave.

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$5, same yard sale. This one lived inside so just needed gorilla glue and light refinishing.

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Perfect Elizabeth-sized chair. And with a steam-bent back!

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$7, same yard sale. She was so loosey goosey that she nearly didn’t make it out of their yard intact, as a large old fella tried her out and she nearly folded.

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Three warped little boards running parallel tried to capture all the seat runners, failing at that while providing no structural support. They came off and it got the Danger treatment.Multiple old fellers could rest easy. Walt, your long rail clamps helped pull her in tight for her triage.

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I shifted her from ruddy black to Mountain Blue, for porch-sittin’ in Montana on Bluebird patrol.

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Also, I created silicon mother molds with plaster backing molds of the Ibis. Tomorrow I take them to the foundry for wax pour, then I’ll bring them back to chase out the wax.

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Wax gets slurried in down the hole, rolled around and poured back out. This is done layer on layer until at a uniform thickness of about 1/8 inch. It takes about 2 hours, as there is a lot of waiting for the wax to cool.

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Walking up the East side, looking to the South West and over the distant hayfield.

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The lower end of the hayfield and up off the right is the new bbird house trek re the prev post. 

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Rounding the upper draw of forested coulee, we’ll head across and drop down another coulee.

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The pine forest is capped and bordered with Aspen groves.

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The high southern boundary of Aspen guards the spring deep in the forest.

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So many favorite places to visit!

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Spot Belt mountain in the next pic.

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Karen, Forest, Belt Mountain, Aspen; under sky of smoke and cloud and blue.

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Significance of Alone all ’round.

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These three trees have been as this for as long as I can remember.

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rounding the double tree drops into the bear’s back yard

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Bear sign. Grubbing stumps.

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Hillside subsidence inundates a water trough. Invasive weeds surround in their own disaster.

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Karen heads out after we take a day to drive to Billings and visit our cousin who is a partner in the ranch. I stay on to bike the canyon from Monarch to Neihart, but the day is hazy with smoke and I finish up chores.

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The evening begins to clear. The next day is clear enough and perfect for cycling. The ride is my first since E broke her thumb crossing a curved RR track on a June ride in SLC followed by triple digit heat that settled in months early and weeks long. A cool tail wind up the canyon ensures the distance, as Belt Creek tumbles brightly beside the road. The next day I head out and at the base of King’s Hill a Golden Eagle dives directly in front of the truck and lifts a rabbit roadkill in a perfect continuous display of speed and skill, then I roll on through 500 miles of smoke retracing our new best scenic route along the Madison river toward Yellowstone’s West Gate.   

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Southern highlands sunset phone signal sojourn.

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The heifers all line up to use the new phone; are bummed that we still can’t check messages.

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Looking North into the ranch.

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Smoke on 360 degrees of the horizon.

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Moon is back to white, from the blood-orange of a few nights ago.

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Up at the high meadows above the hayfield along the Blue Bird trek.

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This steep is a snowbank in winter, and stays green even in our Flash Drought year. 

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Surprise! Karen has jumped up from CA to visit for a few days at the ranch.

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One of the highland’s magical spots.

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Bluebird overlook from their front porch. Four hatchlings from a week ago are now fledged.

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A quiet evening and Karen joins E & I in putting up the new series of Bluebird houses.

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E watches a herd of deer watching us.

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Setting a whole new leg of Bluebird-House trekking.

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The deer are moving out as the sunset begins to move in.

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A last group of deer run the to the ridgeline.

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A fawn leaps to catch up with her group.

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Smoke down from Canada tinges the light.

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cool air rushes through the warm grasses and summer lifts from the earth

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Setting the last of the new houses.

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E can see the wooden bird house the bear opened like a lunchbox way over on the road. 

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More of a thermos than a lunchbox, E thinks the bear may just ignore the new models.

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the stillness of twilight sweeps beyond the mind’s eye

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infinite sky over unending undulations of coulees and mountain

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The moon is a dusky primrose from on top, but later rises again at the house… 

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Deep layers of atmospheric smoke tint the moonrise from the yard. Same night, different moon.

 

 

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Ranch house and fence back in the 19th century with my great grandparents.

Kaye and Walt flew back to Kansas City (once the Great Falls airport had held them nearly overnight) and E & I got on to a day-long Feller project of replacing 80 feet of wooden rail fence around the front of the house. Fence that is essential to keeping livestock out of the yard during cattle drives as well as bovine fence crawlers ambling up and down the road all season long.

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1998 painted fence with Alpine Meadows Angus sign I created in 1996. (I also trimmed the lilacs and hedge throughout the 1990’s, so they still looked spiffy and bloomed amazingly.)

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June 2012.

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2014 Walt and I put in new gate.

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Gate is finished and matches L side built out in 2008 by my father and sister & I. The R side will get long split rail to match in anther year or so. Then split rail becomes a rarity.

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Literally held together with string and wire, these old runs of hand-hewn timber were pulled from our forest nearly a century ago.

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Panel fence is the quick solution to keeping livestock on the road and out of the yard- it all goes.

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E & I salvaged 16′ runs of our old corral fence when the local supplier of split rail was out for the third year running.

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This post leaned far out, so I dug out behind it, soaked it, and levered it back with a rock bar- still leaning out.

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Webbing and a come-along fixed to the truck pull it into place.

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Sawzall takes off a split end and fits to the run of posts.

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Squeeze clamp puts hundreds of pounds of third-hand pressure while I set the board with heavy lag.

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Staggering the top boards for the uphill climb.

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Top rail is set all the way around, so on to the mid rail.

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The yard’s Mountain Bluebird keeps an eye on my work. 

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 Bluebird again.

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New salvage fence wraps around the lilacs I’ve saved for the Cedar Waxwings.

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5 new 16′ sections of salvage fence, with the last two sections retaining lower runs of hand-hewn lodgepole pine.

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2008 Split rail; to 2014 gate of split rail; to 2015 section of split rail following the gate; to 2017 new salvage. The dorky bit by the gate is a No Hunting sign on a wood panel- should reconsider that placement now…

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Meanwhile, back on the Montana ranch…

Kaye and Walt joined us in SLC, and we all drove up to the Montana spread. Elizabeth and I have done enough years of work on the homestead house that it can be mistaken for a rugged B&B.

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The lower end at sunset.

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Elizabeth leads Kaye & Walt to the secret rhubarb patch in the woods.

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Kaye’s Ohio farm-girl self takes the lead.

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A cool yard with a stream and big trees makes for birdwatching and long reads.

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The backyard shade tree needs triage- about two day’s worth.

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If out of new cuts, there are sloppy old cuts to clean up. 

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Walt sends the branches over the corral fence.

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Upper cable work begins, tying the tree together up high.

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Finding leverage and wishing I had a prehensile tail.

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Hummingbirds swept by with encouragements.

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Walt checks the ladder position he recommended. Tight.

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Threading the bolt by feel.

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Cable stranded with tension. (It will let go overnight and the fix will take some doing.)

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The split from the crook to the ground is why the upper cable, and now: cross-rods.

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The long bit is sunk 16″, now the extender is added and I plug along ’til entirely through.

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Language supervisor.

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Rod #2 of 3; Walt checks the tree’s vitals.

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Three rods at cross-directions stabilize the trunk.

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After the cable lets go overnight I redo the big cable with more tension and a better turnbuckle, tie in a sagging branch, and add a bat-house while I’m up.

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She already seemed happier in an evening wind.

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A drive across the top to check blue bird houses and set a few of the new tube-houses.

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On the other side of the valley things are drier.

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10am and already a bit too hot. “Flash Drought” is a new category for what Global Warming is offering up this summer.

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Back at the house I remove an ancient fluorescent ceiling fixture and replace it with a nice ceiling fan. Walt gets the old chime clock on the wall to have it’s chime match its time.  

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Laundry day. I stretch a tight line from the tree to the old laundry pins on the house and everyone chips in on running the laundry machine.

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This is the laundry machine.

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Massive fires in British Columbia smothers the landscape with smoke, and the moon turns orange.

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Our house Robins fledge in the smoke-silvered sky.

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Every morning I trim out snow-bent old-growth from the lilacs. 7 bushes total; stopping when a Cedar Waxwing flew out onto the brush pile and told me to quit before I reached his nest. The chicks all fledged a few days later. 

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Initial trim. Kaye wonders why I didn’t start out with the skirt of suckers. It seemed easier?

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Could call it done, they all are about trimmed and still look like themselves. A hard cut is better in the long run, and sucker skirts will go wild next year- so…

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Leaving the solid lilac bushes along the L side (about as long a run as what I trimmed) gives habitat for birds next spring. This will take a few seasons to stage through.