The Aptly Named Labour Day
This weekend was more full of arduous work than last. I decided to get the ball rolling on securing firewood for this winter. I probably should have done this a couple of months ago, but my sidewalk was not amenable to unloading firewood on it, what with the scaffolding and ongoing siding project. To my horror, the source I had last year seems to have a no-longer-operational phone number. So I had to find something else.
Thankfully, there's a sawmill in the Goulds that sells slabs of aspen left over from milling. This stuff is, in theory, good firewood, as it's easy to cut with a Skil saw (flat on one side), easy to stack, and, given its geometry, should dry out quickly. The last point is the one of most concern: it's very green right now. Hopefully we'll get several warmish, dry, windy days to help dry it out. (Today is not such a day.)
So with the help of Mike and his pickup, we headed out to the Goulds. Said slabs were longer than his 5' box could handle (this is totally ripe for innuendo). So with the help of his chainsaw, we set about cutting it up. Three truckloads later, I had a huge hassle in front of my house. We went to the Celtic Hearth so I could reward his efforts with a meal. After all was said and done, it was about $80 for nearly a cord of firewood (a steal considering it's usually $250/cord to get it delivered). Hopefully it dries out in time. Otherwise it'll be next winter's load. And I'll just freeze this year. :)
Sunday afternoon and Monday afternoon were spent cutting wood. On the one hand, it's nice to have a mindless physical task to do that involves power tools. On the other hand, it beats the hell out of my back having to drag boxload after boxload of wood through the house and stack it. So far so good: I'd say I have about 2/3 of it done.
The weekend wasn't all labour, though, and the fun parts started out pretty good: we went over to Andrea's for some Rock Band on Friday night. We also played this ridiculous Def Jam: Icon game. And after a while, I discovered that while I've gotten used to my own cat, I still retain an allergy to cats in general. Very weird.
Saturday night was supposed to be a Georgetown night, but it kinda fizzled. Craig made his way over and we shot the shit for about an hour -- first time in ages, since his surgery residency is taking up a lot of his time. We were then joined by Milley, and the shit-shooting continued. Then the ladies showed up from their sailor party (?). My memory gets a little hazy around here, but I don't think it stayed that way too long, as folks started taking off around 11:00ish.
Milley and I were the only ones left standing, and I'm glad we didn't call it a night right away, as it got wacky. We ran out of beer, and remembering history's lessons, I *didn't* tuck into the rum. So we headed to the Georgetown. I was promptly greeted by the cougar I had left behind the time before, and she didn't really leave my side the entire time I was there. Funny. I also slowly came to realize that the place was pretty busy, and that the people hogging the mic were all Bitter's bartenders. A very bizarre collision of worlds. After getting our fill, we took advantage of the cougar being distracted and took a French leave out of the place.
Got back to my place for a dram of scotch and a chat, and then all hell broke loose. We heard shrieking and yelling down the street. LOoked out, and no fewer than three dozen late-teen douchebags had piled out of one of the houses and erupted into a street brawl. One guy got turfed, and his head hit the pavement pretty hard, so Milley called the cops. The throng started making their way up the road, and one of 'em grabbed a slab of my firewood, ostensibly to use as a weapon. Given the "odds", I kept quiet till the cops showed up. Of course, most of them had scattered by that time, so I don't know what if any arrests were made. A few of us "concerned citizens" had a little chat in the middle of the road -- the upside is that you get to know your neighbours a little better after an episode like that. I guess it was 3ish before I turned in. I still chuckle that I was out there the whole time with a glass of scotch... and cops everywhere. I feel really bad for the poor lady who just moved in last weekend. Welcome to William Street.
Sunday night was considerably tamer. We went to check out Drag Idol, which was... interminable. It was worth it for all the puns, though. It really dragged on, parts of it were a bit of a drag, etc. We sought refuge and food at the Celtic Hearth, and even this was a bit of a nuisance. The waiter was frazzled beyond belief -- but the place wasn't that busy. But he still milked it for all it was worth to offer piss-poor service.
Yesterday was all right. Dominated by cutting firewood, up until the point I started seeing stars, so I gave it up. I met up with Ginny at Hava Java, then to the Duke for some grub. I was very excited that they had a cold plate on the menu(Ginny can attest to this). And a fine cold plate it was.
I still don't feel like I did a lot this weekend, but the length of this post would suggest otherwise.
Thankfully, there's a sawmill in the Goulds that sells slabs of aspen left over from milling. This stuff is, in theory, good firewood, as it's easy to cut with a Skil saw (flat on one side), easy to stack, and, given its geometry, should dry out quickly. The last point is the one of most concern: it's very green right now. Hopefully we'll get several warmish, dry, windy days to help dry it out. (Today is not such a day.)
So with the help of Mike and his pickup, we headed out to the Goulds. Said slabs were longer than his 5' box could handle (this is totally ripe for innuendo). So with the help of his chainsaw, we set about cutting it up. Three truckloads later, I had a huge hassle in front of my house. We went to the Celtic Hearth so I could reward his efforts with a meal. After all was said and done, it was about $80 for nearly a cord of firewood (a steal considering it's usually $250/cord to get it delivered). Hopefully it dries out in time. Otherwise it'll be next winter's load. And I'll just freeze this year. :)
Sunday afternoon and Monday afternoon were spent cutting wood. On the one hand, it's nice to have a mindless physical task to do that involves power tools. On the other hand, it beats the hell out of my back having to drag boxload after boxload of wood through the house and stack it. So far so good: I'd say I have about 2/3 of it done.
The weekend wasn't all labour, though, and the fun parts started out pretty good: we went over to Andrea's for some Rock Band on Friday night. We also played this ridiculous Def Jam: Icon game. And after a while, I discovered that while I've gotten used to my own cat, I still retain an allergy to cats in general. Very weird.
Saturday night was supposed to be a Georgetown night, but it kinda fizzled. Craig made his way over and we shot the shit for about an hour -- first time in ages, since his surgery residency is taking up a lot of his time. We were then joined by Milley, and the shit-shooting continued. Then the ladies showed up from their sailor party (?). My memory gets a little hazy around here, but I don't think it stayed that way too long, as folks started taking off around 11:00ish.
Milley and I were the only ones left standing, and I'm glad we didn't call it a night right away, as it got wacky. We ran out of beer, and remembering history's lessons, I *didn't* tuck into the rum. So we headed to the Georgetown. I was promptly greeted by the cougar I had left behind the time before, and she didn't really leave my side the entire time I was there. Funny. I also slowly came to realize that the place was pretty busy, and that the people hogging the mic were all Bitter's bartenders. A very bizarre collision of worlds. After getting our fill, we took advantage of the cougar being distracted and took a French leave out of the place.
Got back to my place for a dram of scotch and a chat, and then all hell broke loose. We heard shrieking and yelling down the street. LOoked out, and no fewer than three dozen late-teen douchebags had piled out of one of the houses and erupted into a street brawl. One guy got turfed, and his head hit the pavement pretty hard, so Milley called the cops. The throng started making their way up the road, and one of 'em grabbed a slab of my firewood, ostensibly to use as a weapon. Given the "odds", I kept quiet till the cops showed up. Of course, most of them had scattered by that time, so I don't know what if any arrests were made. A few of us "concerned citizens" had a little chat in the middle of the road -- the upside is that you get to know your neighbours a little better after an episode like that. I guess it was 3ish before I turned in. I still chuckle that I was out there the whole time with a glass of scotch... and cops everywhere. I feel really bad for the poor lady who just moved in last weekend. Welcome to William Street.
Sunday night was considerably tamer. We went to check out Drag Idol, which was... interminable. It was worth it for all the puns, though. It really dragged on, parts of it were a bit of a drag, etc. We sought refuge and food at the Celtic Hearth, and even this was a bit of a nuisance. The waiter was frazzled beyond belief -- but the place wasn't that busy. But he still milked it for all it was worth to offer piss-poor service.
Yesterday was all right. Dominated by cutting firewood, up until the point I started seeing stars, so I gave it up. I met up with Ginny at Hava Java, then to the Duke for some grub. I was very excited that they had a cold plate on the menu(Ginny can attest to this). And a fine cold plate it was.
I still don't feel like I did a lot this weekend, but the length of this post would suggest otherwise.
posted by Dave Green at 9:20 a.m.
2 Comments:
It's like you live in a trailer park.
~Paul
Honestly, I sometimes feel like I do. Weed is plentiful. Drinking rampant. Fights common.
All that's missing is some guy periodically yelling out "WHAT IN THE FUCK?!"
I suppose I could be that guy...
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