Needless to say, by the end of Thursday's session we relied on beer and the Rolling Stones to help us build the vertical rock puzzle at a worthy pace. My back wanted this four-day weekend just as much as nephew Ian wishes my nipples would squirt milk when he pincer-grips them with wide eyes.
Below you'll notice how strangely some of the rocks are shaped.
It takes time to build these challenged shapes up into level courses, but will you just look at that bubble?
The wall is definitely looking good. Well, part of it looks bad. Ugly. But that is the part that will live below final-grade, and never be seen. It all feels really good. I'm very proud of this creation. Mike and I do a good job walking atop it often, stomping like madmen, chanting and panting, to make sure the rocks are going to be there for 500 years. It wouldn't surprise me if he urinates on it when I'm away, as a kind of acid test.
We have about two more weeks before the workshop, and much to accomplish: finish the foundation, gather materials, organize the schedule, clear campsites for people, prepare lectures, etc... It's going to be an exciting fortnight.
Below is the Rumford fireplace in action. I spent a good 3 hours just sitting in front of it alone, mesmerized by the colors and sounds, and welcoming the heat into my torso. Near the end of the gig, I couldn't resist turning a lonely apple into a late-night treat by throwing it into the fire wrapped in foil, and then dressing it with butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar.
In Virginia this weekend, I took the opportunity to jump in Margaret's mother's pottery studio. The pots I had made last time had since been bisque-fired (the initial firing), and were ready for the next step. And so I glazed, and with a whole new theory. I hope they turn out well, but I'll have to wait until my next visit to find out. I can't extend enough thanks to Betsy for her gift of studio, supplies, time, mind, and clay!
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