Ozarkansas is still in the cooker. Every morning is still a race. Stuff gets done early and stuff gets done fast, and if stuff doesn’t get done by 11am, give or take, then stuff gets bumped ’til the next day.
We found out over the weekend that one of our neighbors, a guy 12 years younger than me, was stricken with heatstroke last week and took an ambulance ride to the hospital. I’m mindful of the risks.
Today I dove into the woodstove again. First on my list was replacing the missing fire brick. I had to cut a half-inch off of one of the vermiculite bricks that arrived on Saturday, but it didn’t require hammer and chisel — I could do it on the table saw.
That was weird. Vermiculite is weird. It’s a mineral, with commercial applications ranging from brake linings to potting soil and, yes, fireproofing. Vermiculite fire bricks look like fine-granule particle board and cut easily (and cleanly) with a blade made for wood.
It felt strange to do that. Maybe it’s just me.
The trimmed brick slipped smoothly into the vacant spot on the back wall of the woodstove. I tightened the clamp holding it in place, but not too tight — when there’s fire in the box, everything will expand, so I left a little slack to accommodate that.
The grinding I did while fussing with the flue pipe the other day left a ton of dust and ash in and on the stove. I pulled out our small shop-vac and began cleaning it up.
I’d been at it for about five minutes before realizing that the vac’s outlet was spewing out pretty much everything I was sucking up. (I’d forgotten the filter bag.) The inside of the cabin now is in need of thorough dusting.
(The right tool for that job probably is a leaf blower.)
My objective was to examine and, the best I could, clean all of the galleries, passages and orifices within sight and reach. Everything looked fine. The fresh-air damper appears to function as it should.
We won’t know for sure, however, ’til we light the first fire. After this exam, I feel pretty good about it.
It was getting hot in the cabin by that point. One other task called my name, though, and I wanted to give it a shot before waving the white flag.
I’d picked up an inexpensive five-blade crimping tool to use on stovepipe. The plan today wasn’t to try fitting the flue pipe again, but I thought I’d play around with the crimper and see if it works.
It does. While it did a good job of cleaning up the mess I made of the telescoping stovepipe last week, I don’t think I can salvage the buggered end. I’ll cut it off and use the crimping tool on a clean end.
I continue to get positive feedback about knife content on Ubi Libertas Blog. You won’t see it here every day, of course, but I’m confident predicting that it’ll be a fairly regular feature. Obviously, bringing back my accumulated knives from Ohio is responsible for kick-starting all that.
I hope to devote equal time to both tools and skills. Skills is where it’s at.
I did find time this morning to do something knife for myself. (See what I did there?) It was prompted by a memory — backpacking at Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico in 1972, carrying the second knife I ever owned.
My Ulster Official Boy Scout Knife was in my right-front pants pocket. Our leader, my Scoutmaster, had given each of us a leather thong with a slit at each end — one end was attached to the bail of my pocketknife with a sort of lark’s head, and the other end was on my belt at three-o’clock.
The simple tether, 30 inches long, kept my knife at the ready and prevented me from misplacing it. If a task required more reach or more room, it could be removed from the belt easily.
Pretty slick. Very handy.
And yes, now 52 years later, that’s my original knife and tether in those photos.
I’ve been dithering awhile about what sort of lanyard or fob to make for the Victorinox Fieldmaster I resurrected recently. It’s to be a working knife, a field knife, so I didn’t envision something fancy.
This morning’s Philmont flashback solved that riddle.
I fashioned a paracord version of my old leather tether. It’s exactly the same length, with a spring clip at each end. Figure-eight knots, tied on the bights, secure the clips.
It took ten minutes to make, only ’cause I wanted it to be perfect.
This is our second summer on The Mountain, our third living in Ozarkansas. We’ve become accustomed to seasonal drought, certainly, and the imposing of “burn bans” when wildfire danger increases across the region.
I haven’t run the numbers, but my sense is that it hasn’t been as hot this year as it was last year. We’ve had a little more rain overall and a very wet July. As a result, we haven’t yet seen our first burn ban.
Bans are issued at the county level. The northern tier of Arkansas has been reliably cooler, relative to central and southern parts of the state, as well as wetter, and that’s reflected in the map I’ve included here.
Two county judges have imposed burn bans, both in southwest Arkansas. Wildfire danger is either moderate or high beyond the physiographic boundary of the Ozarks.
North of that line, where we are, danger is considered low, and no bans have been issued. We consider ourselves fortunate.
It’s still pretty damned dry, though.
I don’t know if Marion County will escape the summer without seeing a burn ban. There’s a chance, at least, and that’s pretty great.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB