matching tracksuits

Yard work is much like paperwork — it tends to pile up and overwhelm. Unlike paperwork, though, I can’t just toss yard work into some draw to make it go away for a while.

Yesterday, I played catch-up.

• I finished digging out our antiquated, slow-draining, often-overflowing drain.
• I mowed.
• I trimmed.
• I changed the oil in the car (for a change of pace, I guess).
• I raked.

And then the oddest thing: I was filled with energy. That’s another crucial difference between yard work and paperwork: working outside energizes; working inside drains.

Tomorrow, at school, I dig into the pile of work that awaits — some of which I’d promised myself I’d do this weekend.

• Make-up work to grade.
• Reports to fill out.
• APS plans to finalize.
• Final exams to create.

And you’ll find it, at 2:45 in the afternoon, when my last class has padded out, sitting at my computer, hardly able to hold my eyes open, dreaming of a shovel.

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There are some projects that have immediate visual results: replacing windows; remodeling the kitchen; adding on a sun room. Very visible, and very expensive.

Other projects have immediate effects but might not have such a before-and-after feel — installing a water filter, for example. Replacing a leaking faucet might be another.

And then there are a few projects that that are neither immediately visible nor immediately effective. Blowing twenty bags of insulation in your attic falls into that category.

Before, R19:

After, approximately R40:

We’ll see it but only next winter, in the gas bill.

Special thanks to Nana and Papa for the help.

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Gautama Siddharta said,

Let yourself be open and life will be easier. A spoon of salt in a glass of water makes the water undrinkable. A spoon of salt in a lake is almost unnoticed.

Salt. Salt is the key to good smoking, and Siddharta could have just as easily framed his analogy in terms of the salt bath for smoked meats (though it probably wouldn’t have read as well).

We added what we thought was enough salt. We did a taste-test of the water, and it seemed to be about as briny as the first time, when Dziadek, the smoking expert, was still here.

Apparently we got it wrong, for while the second batch looks good,

the taste just wasn’t there.

Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?
or is there any taste in the white of an egg?

Apparently not.

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Well, not quite tumbling.

We cut down a half-dead cedar tree yesterday, but it was so entwined with vines and such that it didn’t quite fall. It took some encouragement.

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It turns out that the whole time there has been a major malfunction with our gas pack that has been preventing it from firing correctly. “It probably came from the factory that way,” said Shane, the technician.

Between six and eight technicians have looked at it, with one of them changing the gas regulator on the burner just inches away from the whole problem, and not one noticed it.

The problem — highlighted in the white square — was that the gas injectors, coming from the manifold (running along the bottom of the picture), should be in the burner, not hovering a centimeter away from it, or, as was the case with one injector, hovering a centimeter away from it and bent downward.

Once again, the technician said: “It probably came from the factory that way.”

So, to review, the following parts have been changed in the unit itself:

• Burner,
• Gas regulator,
• Control board, and
• Some gas valve (not the regulator).

Within the zoning system, the following things have been changed:

• Transformer,
• Entire control board, and
• One damper.

Folks, we basically have an entirely new system…

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ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever buy a house with a gas pack. They’re more delicate than your grandmother’s hip.

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Rather, “Done” list:

• chop wood
• haul wood to storage location (i.e., corner of the carport)
• carry unusable wood to the roadside
• make a trip to Lowe’s for various equipment
• chop, cut, and pull large stand of thorn bushes
• dig, cut, pull up half of the impressive root system of said bushes
• take bushes and roots out to the roadside
• rake up leaves formerly inaccessible due to the stand of bushes
• vacuum car
• wash car
• work on clogged drain
• do grocery shopping
• drink beer
• collapse

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We did a test-burn yesterday.

The draw was almost too strong, Dziadek said.

The next step was to get the meat ready for the real smoking:

Next step — apply a carcinogenic coating to the meat.

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Whenever Papa comes here to help, I often end up helping him. It’s always been that way.

It was no different with Dziadek and the smoker.

So now the smoker’s almost done, but not tested.

That’s tomorrow. And next weekend, the first adventures.

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“There’s no good sandwich meat in America!” Dziadek has stated several times. And that’s critical, for sandwich meat — cold cuts, in other words — is a cornerstone of the Polish diet. What else are you going to eat for breakfast? Nothing fills you up for the day like, say, a head cheese (which, for the uninitiated, is pretty much what it sounds like) sandwich with a cup of hot tea.

What are we left to do? Dziadek decided there’s only one solution: make our own cold cuts — which requires a smoker. Which requires a cinder block foundation and a 55-gallon drum. Yes, we’re going high class.

Yesterday, we dug out the foundation, mortared the cinder blocks together, began making the necessary modifications to the drum, cut down a dead oak, and went to Home Depot at least half a dozen times.

Today, we build the fire pit and attach the drum to the base. And eventually paint it.

Aesthetic concerns aside (how much does that privacy fence cost again?), I’m looking forward to having homemade ham.

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