A Tale of Two Woodpiles {and the Hip Horse}

I will start the tale with the Horse. Now that my role at Hip Thrift is becoming more tangible, I have been granted occasional use of a new used van for the hoarding of the woodpiles.

Last week, someone finally brought down the axe on an old rotting tree in their front yard. And I swept in to pick up the pieces. Pun intended; it's one of those days.

This is a weird crystallized dead grub.

And this grub was quite alive. Which brings me to a burning question: how can I be sure that this beautifully eroded wood is ready to work once it has been seasoned? I thought of cutting it into small enough pieces and cooking out the critters in my home oven. I also thought of bartering with a local reclaim outfit to use their kiln in exchange for the lion's share of the wood. Has anyone tried to do this on their own? Please leave comments!

The larger pieces have decayed to just the right state to produce interesting burls, so I am very eager to start seasoning it. I even wonder if some aggressive chainsaw slicing might be good enough for removing all of the little buggers . . .

Now the coolest part of this story is how I met the creator of the Bottitudes. It's her tree in her yard. I always get permission before scrapping, so when we got to talking Susan shared her creations. Look for these funky little raku-glazed bots soon at Hip Thrift.

My son is with me on Spring Break and the next story got him all excited. I have been scoping out construction jobs and scrap piles and finally corralled the boss on this one down on Waynesville Ave.

The foreman is more than happy to let me raid the scrap pile for the duration of construction.

And my son is more than happy to get down to it and load some scrap! Call it shameless child labor if you'd like, but does get paid . . . in root beer floats . . .

Whether it be dead trees or seemingly useless piles of scrap, we are on the lookout for wood. I will be sure to put it to good use!
] j [

Farewell to a Wonderful Workhorse

Well I did promise a post about my MVA (motor vehicle accident).  Can you tell I've been on the phone a lot with an insurance claim adjustor?

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I did borrow this wonderful workhorse my mother's Ford Ranger from time to time for travel and moving things, including wood.

Someone misread an exit from the highway and in a panic did jerk and swerve right into my path and that is all she wrote.  Knowing the age of the vehicle and seeing the damage firsthand, I can say with confidence that the offending driver's insurance company will junk it and opt to pay book, rather than springing for some very costly repairs.

Thankfully, even at six in the wee, my reflexes were primed at NYC bike messenger level and both of us were 'unhurt.'  Unhurt despite the crazy moments when I crunched the tail of the car and charged upon its whirling donut dance. Somehow we both skidded to the right shoulder completely out of the way of cars coming in behind us. And yet somehow traffic on the highway we had just exited eventually reached a 45 minute delay.  [This I learned from the receptionist at my new chiropractor! Oh, the irony.]

Kat was an angel and picked me up from the hospital and also took me out to empty personal effects.
Wipe away a tear.
Diagnosis: Whiplash


Pain is minor but still lingers and obviously doesn't mix well with my line of work.  48 hours later was the worst of it, as predicted.

I eat a ton of ibuprofen.

The chiropractor is recommending treatment far beyond my means: i.e. I can't afford to miss as many days from work.
Oh! His name is Dr. Bart at River Ridge Chiropractic and he is exceptional.
http://www.ncashevillechiropractor.com/blog/

At present, the insurance company has furnished us with a rental. I won't say what it is, but it looks like a clown car, is bright white, and is named after a platonic solid.

EDIT: High Res Images from Kat