November 1 novembre 2003
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November 5 novembre 2003
Nous sommes allés chez Cohen chercher une nouvelle porte pour la chambre de bain. Il neigait, il pleuvait, il ventait, il grésillait et ça gelait en touchant le sol. Quel temps! Arrivés au magasin, David a décidé de ne pas acheter de porte mais d'essayer tout simplement de réparer la porte actuelle!!! Il ne pouvait pas décider cela AVANT?!?!? Retour
November 6 novembre 2003
La neige a viré en glace cette nuit, mais comme la météo annonce un maximum de 16 degrés aujourd'hui il n'en restera rien. David était un peu inquiet pour notre toit, dont seule l'ébauche existe et toute d'un seul côté en plus! Il avait peur que le poids de la glace jumelé aux vents prévus par la météo ait jeté le tout par terre. Nous avons donc fait un rapide détour en allant au bureau ce matin. Nous avons suivi des traces de chevreuil tout le long de l'entrée. C'est joli.
Le toit est intact!Retour
November 9 novembre 2003
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November 10 novembre 2003
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La fosse septique n'est aps encore creusée. Foch a demandé que Claude lui creuse un sillon près de la maison, pour enterrer le câble qui mettra la maisonnée à terre. Le câble sort de la maison par la fenêtre du sous-sol, à l'ouest. Il y a trois plaques de métal dont chacune doit être enterrée dans un trou différent. J'ai pris une photo d'une de ces plaques, juste au cas où. Tant qu'à y être, j'ai pris de photos un peu partout. Nous sommes assurés maintenant, contre le vol et le vandalisme, pour tous les matériaux de construction. J'espère ne pas avoir à nous en servir. Nous ne laissons jamais d'outils sur les lieux.Retour
November 11 novembre 2003
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J'ai commencé à mettre notre linge d'été en boîtes, aussi. Il commence à être temps de préparer le déménagement. Peter a appelé sur les entrefaites et m'a semblé soucieux en apprenant que nous emménagerions en janvier, tel que prévu. Il est inquiet de notre consommation d'électricité. Il cité à titre d'exemple qu'une fournaise au propane représente une forte consommation d'électricité. Je pense qu'il pensait que nous avions l'intention d'en faire notre source de chaleur principale, dorénavant, en plus d'un réfrigérateur conventionnel, laveuse, sécheuse, lave-vaisselle.... On ne lui a sans doute pas encore expliqué que ntore but actuel n'est aps le plein confort, mais la survie dans un confort mitigé. Je veux être au chaud et au sec. Si la génératrice doit fonctionner toute la nuit, chaque nuit, pour charger les batteries pour la journée suivante, ainsi soit-il! Mais David pense tout simplement que Peter n'est pas au courant de nos plans. Nous lui parlerons sous peu pour mettre les points sur les i.
David a vu un "flying squirrel". J'ai le nom français sur le bout de la langue...
Back, coming up on twenty years ago or more, I played the pen, paper, and imagination (no batteries equired) role-playing game, Dungeons and Dragons.
Alot.
And because we were a small group of friends, we often took turns holding the office of "Dungeon Master". The DM is the guy who gets to say things like "...and as the stone door slides shut behind you, another opens in front of you. It's a room, roughly fifty feet by fifty feet, carved out of the rock, with an open ceiling about a hundred feet above you. The floor is littered with gems, coins, and other treasure. Sitting on top of this treasure, however, is a very old looking red dragon. He raises his head to look at you. Please roll for 'initiative'..."
Anyway, and yes, I am slowly getting to the point, one of the things I did best when I DM'd was 'twist wishes'. Take a perfectly honest and well intentioned magical wish by one of the characters, and twist it into something he didn't really mean, but that he did ask for.
Well, what goes around comes around... ;-).
Last night, I made the committment to go hunting today. So, driving over to LeBoise at about 10pm, I had a bit of an adventure. Pulling up to the gate, I got out of the truck, and began to play with the lock. I noticed, by the hinge-side post, a small critter of some kind, playing in the leaves. Now, this is the better part of five hours past dark, so although it looked squirrel sized, I assumed it wasn't. After re-locking the gate behind me, I brought the flashlight back from the truck, and shone it on the suspect 'bundle of leaves'.
At first glance, it did appear to be a squirrel. Second glance, though, triggered all sorts of incongruities. For one, it had HUGE bulging black eyes, like those of 'classic' field mice. Now, seeing as the object of its attention by the post was a large mushroom that it was busy consuming, perhaps it was just dialation ;-). But, still, red squirrel sized and colored. No stripes on its back to suggest a chipmunk, either. The tail, also, was unusual. About squirrel sized, but 'fat', like it had some "meat" to it, and the hair on it was of the same style and length as its body hair, not the longer hairs of a squirrel. The body, also, seemed unusual. It looked, to use a term from my rural upbringing, like thirty pounds of shit in a fifty pound bag, ie, there was a fair bit of 'extra' skin. It was a DAMN quick little guy, though, darting from the mushroom, to halfway up a tree as it considered fleeing from my light, but, then, decided that 'getting high' was more important, back to the mushroom. No idea what the hell it was.
As Bill Cosby used to say, when he was still funny, "and I told you that story to tell you this one."
While admiring my narco-frenzied little friend, I figured it couldn't hurt. "Amigo," I asked him, "If I could see a buck tomorrow that I could get a shot at, that would be just great. I've been really busy with the house, and my hunting time is quite self-limited. but if I could see one tomorrow, I'd appreciate it."
It can't hurt.
Last year, I asked a raccoon if he could arrange it, that I'd see a buck the next day, and I did; a very nice spiker... behind about twenty feet of berry brush that I had a split second to decide if I wanted to risk shooting through. I didn't, but, in retrospect, the raccoon *did* hold up his end of the agreement.
Well, so did little "mystery rat". The next morning, shortly after first light, I jumped 'the deer' just as I was turning off my driveway into the woods. I hadn't elected to sit anywhere for the morning, as with my busy building schedule (move in date still Jan 1), I had had no
time to pattern anything lately. Better to just spot and stalk, I figured. So, right into strategy mode. Where was he going, how could I cut him off...
His first little sprint was into a low cedar swamp, probably about a
hundred yards across. I snuck around it, coming to the other side before I figured he had come through. However, my eyes picked out the subtle signs of a deer recently leaving that area, so I began to "tail end" follow him, until I got another good feeling of where he might want to go. It was a nice day, but cloudy, still early in the morning. I was in no hurry, following the Sikesian commandment of silently watching twice as much as I was walking.
The deer had been alone, and had blown out without so much as a snort. I had also seen some fresh spoor that was 'dropped' as the deer walked along; everything pointed to it being a buck.
So, as I had decided that today was to hunt, as I always do on Remembrance Day, I kept my eyes and ears open, as I tracked along. For luck, I slowly drew The Artemis Knife, gave it the respectful kiss you see Catholic priests give their tassely-things, and slid it back into its sheath. Kyle had told me that he always saw game when he carried it; I was just giving thanks to mine for letting me come across some, too. After a few hundred yards, we came to a hill, which I carefully scaled, listening to everything, occasionally stooping to pick a leaf or two of wintergreen as a little trail-side nibble. Hell, that's what the deer was doing ;-).
Anyway, reaching the top, the deer was indeed there, but again, silently, blew down the far side... again, not far, just a hundred yards or so... or less, I found out.
This hill is full of oak, and although the nut crop was poor this year, it was still there, and food is food. I followed a side trail, trying to stay above him, and AGAIN, he blew out, again, not far, however, but down to the small valley below. Ok, time to sit and think. He wants to be on this hill. He isn't running any further than he absolutely has to, and he's not running at full speed, just a quick trot. He'll be coming back up... but how, and
where? Again, years of tramping these hills gave me the answer. I had a pretty good idea where he'd be coming back up, as it was a good distance away from where I had pushed him last... now where to be to cut him off...
The ideal place occurred to me; it would be an overlook, probably giving a 100yd shot. Not even a warmup for the Black Death. With silent haste, but still stooping to grab the occasional wintergreen leaf (that damn stuff is like popcorn ;-), I was settled in. Sitting on a protruding shelf of the Laurentian Shield, I waited. An unusual crack. A brushed branch. Coming closer. Up came the Black Death. Scope set on 4X, I waited as the cautious deer came closer. He became a shadow in the underbrush, then a leg, a body. A nice sized deer. Slowly, I tracked him. Finally, I could see the head... with no antlers...
Well.
But, practice is worth something, so I continued to track him. Carefully, I cranked the scope up to 10X, but put the safety on. The deer's head filled the scope, as I practiced tracking his movement without losing the picture. He continued to approach. And yes, it was
indeed a "him".
From about fifty yards, he stopped his ascent of the hill, and stared at the odd greenish lump off in the distance. He was what is called a "button buck" around here. I had never seen one before. An early spring male fawn, as I understand, that manages, though good diet and genetics, to begin growing antlers the first year... but all he ends up with are "buttons", round projections rising about a half-inch from his head, and clearly visible in the scope's magnified view.
Having had my fun, I began slowly moving away, trying not to startle him too much. It was a good morning, all in all.
Two other deer blew out from a distance, saw what is the start of a very nice scrape line on the far side of my front lake, that had been serviced that morning, and had managed to stay warm and dry throughout. What else could a hunter ask for?
So, the moral of the story: when you make a wish with a rodent-junkie, be VERY specific ;-).Retour
November 14 novembre 2003
Le temps est orageux depuis hier. Il a plu et il a neigé pendant toute la journée. En soirée, nous avons manqué d'électricité huit fois entre 18:00 et 22:00! Ce matin, David devait aller travailler au Boisé. En chargeant le camion, il s'est rendu compre que la boîte d'outils semblait un peu trop pesante.... elle s'était remplie d'eau jusqu'aux bords et l'eau avait ensuite gelée!!! Les outils étaient comme les morceaux de fruits pris dans un aspic au jello!!!Retour
November 15 novembre 2003
Claude est venu ce matin pour creuser l'emplacement de la fosse septique. Il a beaucoup de commandes cette année et nous nous sommes mis d'accord que seule la fosse sera creusée cette année - le champs d'épuration attendra à l'an prochain. Le champs d'épuration n'est pas obligatoire de toutes façons - il y a beaucoup de gens qui se limitent à la fosse septique et ils l'a font vider par un professionnel une fois par an. Je ne suis pas encore certaine comment il se fait que nous n'ayions pas considéré cette option dès le début? Sais pas. .... Pendant qu'il est là, nous avons demandé à Claude d'enterrer le fil de mise à terre. Ce fil sort de la maison entre le coin nord-ouest de la maison et la fenêtre située près de ce coin, sur la face ouest du sous-sol. Il est attaché à trois plaques de métal qui sont maintenant enterrés environ 3-4 pieds sous terre.
Nous attendons beaucoup de visite demain. Dominic a promis son concours pour m'aider à travailler au plancher. Les feuilles de 4X8 doivent être taillées et embouchetée, c'est un travail difficile. D'abord la qualité de l'embouchetage ne vaut pas cher (à mon humble avis). Ensuite, les embouts s'emplissent de brin de scie, de glace, de terre etc qui y gèle.... et qu'il faut don enlever au petit couteau. Ensuite, les feuilles ondulent un peu. Tout ça pour dire que ce n'est vraiment pas une jobbe que je peux faire seule! J'ai essayé mais ça n'avançait pas du tout.
Peter et Foch viendront travailler l'électricité demain et Brad viendra seconder David pour les pignons. Brad et Foch sont d'excellents travailleurs. Tous deux s'acharnent à leur tâches respectives comme des castors - ils font leur ouvrage "vite et bien", comme nous le recommandait la Soeur Pierrette Labrie, prof de Maths au secondaire!Retour
November 16 novembre 2003
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November 20 novembre 2003
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November 23 novembre 2003
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