This could also be titled Creative Homesteading DYI 101. I am seeking suggestions, the more the merrier, and nothing is 'too whacked'. Sometimes the zany ideas have a touch of merit in them.
There are rules to this blog, mainly One: I don't want to hear "you can't do that", "that's foolish", "it won't work", "it's too much work". Comments that crush the exploration of all options are unwanted and undercut my 'sussing out' (zen?) possibilities.
Don't do that, and thanks in advance! :)
Situation: Ground heave. I've been aware of this since we moved in here, and I'm wondering if there's ways to minimize it. Depending on the season, the linoleum or tile lies flat or bulges across the floors. This starts breaking before too long then. Doors also warp some depending on the season. Presumed cause is the ground freezing / thawing, i.e. foundation.
One suggestion would potentially help the floors, but I'm not sure if it's adequate or ideal: using the floating, snap-together floor material. I'm not sure it would fully accept the seasonal fluctuations.
Installing heat two feet down around the perimeter might be useful, but does seem extreme, even to me. :)
I do have a shovel, and I'm not afraid to use it. (Fits under Exercise Plan.)
I also think it'd be a bit extreme to run a moat around the house with circulating, heated water year-round (okay, ideally solar-powered). "A friend of the Goldfish" - that'd be me? ... let's try to think of other alternatives! Anyway, one can imagine if that system failed and the consequences thereof, hmm?
How does one create and conduct heat, anyway? How does a cigarette lighter in a car work (except mine, which doesn't)? What does friction have to do with heat, and why did the swirling sand of the Dust Bowl generate electrical charges? (Take a crack at any of them if you have ideas.)
How does composting create heat? (Seems another extreme idea to pass on, but maybe something side-ways will creep into thought.)
If running water doesn't freeze as well as still... then motion? - Okay, so I can see my own small train circling and circling until I got dizzy, warming up the tracks.
Yes, those were all extremes! What about piping circulating through a hot water heater in a narrow barrier between "god-awful cold" and "what I want warm?" Solar thoughts, anyone, or creative use of old tires? Or hydraulics, which I only have a vague concept of?
It's okay... I learned something unusual (a couple things, actually) within the past few days. Talking with one lady, they'd 'added on' to a trailer, including a small basement and room -- next to it! Since I watched my dad dig out a basement under the old farmhouse, bucket by bucket throughout a winter, I've occasionally considered doing the same here.
It's usually a short trip back to sanity, in that it's nasty under this place. Tight, framing, concrete, drains and about enough room for an oiled human snake to slither through. Practical considerations also include fuel lines and stuff I totally don't want to tamper with!
The concept of "putting the basement BY the house" shocked my temporal lobes with the beauty of it. :) Half-breeding this, a storage area 'cut down and long' by one wall would add that air-break between killer-cold and me. And... if I put this under the side where the stairs are, it wouldn't have to be an obvious permit issue, especially if it's banked with dirt and bloomin' plants.
That's a concept I grew up with. My dad believed it of 'government interference' with his property, and I believed it as to Dad: What they don't know won't hurt them, and no sense in telling them. "If you don't ask, they can't say 'no'."
Same time, I could use a tornado shelter here, so that's darn near viable!
Now - I'll let my brain and the Universe chaw on that for awhile. If I trip over a stack of unwanted concrete blocks or anything in my travels, I'll fetch them home in case they have a place in the future.
Wisdom: things are only impossible until they become possible. I try not to limit the universe.
Before you blow off this message, it's not like I'm trying to build the Great Pyramid. And one of my favorite sayings: Professionals built the Titanic, amateurs built the Ark. -- and the Three Little Pigs houses... If the three pigs had got together, they'd have had a brick structure with straw insulation and wood finish inside - nice! :)
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
A brief detour in conclusion-jumping
(Before I ramble, which I feel is due after a full day, I will also add it's d--d cold again. Which is why there's an advisory for -20 to -35 F. wind chill tonight.)
So - I made it home from various ventures involving earning an income, getting chiropractically unkinked, and peace coalition meeting, shortly before 9:00 p.m., or in other words, in time to watch the newest on Paranormal State. (It's located next to where I live, so it's not much of a gap: Abnormal State.)
And there, on the screen, as the team is scolding a demon away, they're recording the area temperature on their camera. It dropped down to almost -20 for awhile, and when the 'good guys' declared it gone "Amen", the temperature jumped to +25!!!
Conclusion: when it's d--d cold out, it's an accurate description. Evil is lurking around us... I'd always suspected this could be connected, like when creeping cold would wind up my ankles, trying to suck the heat out of my body. It felt like 'cold devoid of life', and now I know why.
I immediately shared this insight with Sera and Valleri, causing Val to yell, "Amen!... Is it summer yet?"
This is about as close to reality-TV I get. :)
Cold facts:
Minnesotans aren't really grinning in the winter pic's - their gritted teeth are frozen that way until Spring happens. If we move our lips, they crack and fall off, and since one's nose tends to become an ice-maker, it's best to freeze said lips cracked so you can breathe. And the face masks? - They freeze up with the steam from exhaling, the theory being that a block of ice on your face is some protection from the wind.
*Fact: Chickadees are on valium. This is why they sound so cheerful when any sane birds would have gritted beaks. (I also suspect the nerves to their brains are frozen, thus creating delusions.)
*Fact: Water freezes, Vodka doesn't. Question: Which one should be in your emergency kit...?
Irony - they suggest keeping chocolate in your emergency kit... good luck with that, because you know you'll raid it before you ever 'need' it, and as soon as a warm day hits - then you gotta lick it out of the wrapper, don't ask how I know.
Minnesota mace: carried for bears, aggressive dogs, attack-killer-deer, cougars, and bears. I know exactly how a bear feels, grumbling out of a good sleep with hunger pains and young ones pestering at it - don't mess with them!
Minnesota mace: last seen in the glove box or trunk, good luck finding it if you ever need it.
Minnesota mace: odds are I'd have it pointed the wrong way, thus distracting myself from whatever was trying to chew me up by blinding myself. Some things are better off left lost.
Minnesota keys: Proper Minnesotans leave them in the ignition where they belong and find it a nuisance to have to have them at all. There's two practical points to this: half the stuff is too rusted and creatively rebuilt to interest anyone with the know-how to figure out how to start it, and anything else has an aggressive dog to guard it. Most of us wouldn't steal our own stuff, since we know the condition it's in, but we're gonna fix it "when Spring comes."
Right now we're looking forward to it, but if you check back in a few months, we'll all be exhausted and mosquito-bit -- "living the good life in God's country."
Delusions happen when your brain freezes. Conclusion: we're all delusional.
So - I made it home from various ventures involving earning an income, getting chiropractically unkinked, and peace coalition meeting, shortly before 9:00 p.m., or in other words, in time to watch the newest on Paranormal State. (It's located next to where I live, so it's not much of a gap: Abnormal State.)
And there, on the screen, as the team is scolding a demon away, they're recording the area temperature on their camera. It dropped down to almost -20 for awhile, and when the 'good guys' declared it gone "Amen", the temperature jumped to +25!!!
Conclusion: when it's d--d cold out, it's an accurate description. Evil is lurking around us... I'd always suspected this could be connected, like when creeping cold would wind up my ankles, trying to suck the heat out of my body. It felt like 'cold devoid of life', and now I know why.
I immediately shared this insight with Sera and Valleri, causing Val to yell, "Amen!... Is it summer yet?"
This is about as close to reality-TV I get. :)
Cold facts:
Minnesotans aren't really grinning in the winter pic's - their gritted teeth are frozen that way until Spring happens. If we move our lips, they crack and fall off, and since one's nose tends to become an ice-maker, it's best to freeze said lips cracked so you can breathe. And the face masks? - They freeze up with the steam from exhaling, the theory being that a block of ice on your face is some protection from the wind.
*Fact: Chickadees are on valium. This is why they sound so cheerful when any sane birds would have gritted beaks. (I also suspect the nerves to their brains are frozen, thus creating delusions.)
*Fact: Water freezes, Vodka doesn't. Question: Which one should be in your emergency kit...?
Irony - they suggest keeping chocolate in your emergency kit... good luck with that, because you know you'll raid it before you ever 'need' it, and as soon as a warm day hits - then you gotta lick it out of the wrapper, don't ask how I know.
Minnesota mace: carried for bears, aggressive dogs, attack-killer-deer, cougars, and bears. I know exactly how a bear feels, grumbling out of a good sleep with hunger pains and young ones pestering at it - don't mess with them!
Minnesota mace: last seen in the glove box or trunk, good luck finding it if you ever need it.
Minnesota mace: odds are I'd have it pointed the wrong way, thus distracting myself from whatever was trying to chew me up by blinding myself. Some things are better off left lost.
Minnesota keys: Proper Minnesotans leave them in the ignition where they belong and find it a nuisance to have to have them at all. There's two practical points to this: half the stuff is too rusted and creatively rebuilt to interest anyone with the know-how to figure out how to start it, and anything else has an aggressive dog to guard it. Most of us wouldn't steal our own stuff, since we know the condition it's in, but we're gonna fix it "when Spring comes."
Right now we're looking forward to it, but if you check back in a few months, we'll all be exhausted and mosquito-bit -- "living the good life in God's country."
Delusions happen when your brain freezes. Conclusion: we're all delusional.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
My plans go awry - again
Not sure where to begin this blog today. I was whacking my brains out on the computer with courses - doing it the hard way, of course, a.k.a. 'my way' - for days trying to get last Tuesday's assignment done. The car started Friday despite below-zero temps most of the week - Friday actually started warming up! I made a dash to Towne for cat food, dog food, coffee (we should all know which one is most critical there) and...
I did feel that faint nudge to check the air in my tires, but it wasn't at-the-time critical. Figured if it presented itself on Saturday, I'd check it then.
I was also recalling a previous trip when I went to the store to buy toilet paper (we were O-U-T) to save Sera a trip. I had meandered around the store, found a beautiful chocolate cake in the bakery department at a reduced price, so bought it and hob-nobbed with the clerk. I paused to read the bulletin board on my way out, getting gloves and keys ready to face the cold. Got home sans cake, and realized I'd totally spaced-out buying toilet paper. Called the store and they fetched the cake from the gumball machine I'd perched it on, then called Sera to get the cake and - buy toilet paper. More than likely, I'd been 'whacking my brains out on the computer' and hadn't fully reoriented to this world, and yes - a lost chocolate cake is deflating.
Probably not as deflated as the tire was yesterday. I planned a quick trip in-and-out out of Towne after 'whacking my brains out' for 4 or 5 hours in the morning, and the weather was astoundingly warm! Yee-ha! Once I hit pavement proper, there was a most-obvious problem with a tire. Not even the gentle whump-whump-whump of one getting seriously low, but the kaa-thunk... kaa-thunk of "not good." I figured I'd cripple it back the mile home, but I couldn't risk the rim and it was "not good."
I realized if the car was technically 'on the road', my triple-AAA just-paid-renewal would cover towing to the repair shop; if it were at home, they wouldn't. Logic, best to leave it on the road then. A nice gent gave me a lift the short distance home; I called to check hours for repairs and had time to get it in - and yes, I knew exactly where the two tires were under the snow that had been saved for such an occasion.
Plan A: Call triple-AAA, get the car towed to the shop, have Sera run me and the tires back up to my car before the truck showed up, proceed with errands and get back to assignments.
Optional Plan A: Called son Matt, see if his air compressor would be available if I chose to fill the tire and run madly for the shop. It was, but seemed like a lot of fuss to fetch it.
On-hold with AAA, Sera thought we should just get a can of fix-a-flat and be done with it.
Plan B: Sera drove me up to the station for the can of fix-it. I threw the two tires in my car, put the fuse back in that I have to pull regularly since it drains the battery if left in, gave Sera my secret numbers to transfer funds via computer to my debit card to cover the tire while Sera put in the can of fix-a-flat.
The tire chuckled - probably smashed loose off the rim, and wherever the can-stuff was going, it wasn't doing a pound of good.
Plan C: I did have the spare donut and a jack in the trunk. (I know, I could have just done this sooner, hmm?) I'd never had it out, but seemed a like a quick solution - and it looked pretty round, because no - I've never checked the air in it. They should just be made out of solid rubber anyway; odds are, they'll never really be filled if you need it, they're only good for a short distance, and why not? - that's my opinion.
So... I have the hydraulic jack out, and - it won't actually fit under my car with a totally flat tire. Most of the car is plastic or rust, and the last thing I wanted to do was pop the jack through something critical, like the oil pan. We messed about with this, no handy bricks or blocks around (I should just keep a few in the trunk, too) to double-step around the jacking-up process, trying to feel where something solid may be underneath. The jack-stands or block-stands or whatever they are wouldn't fit underneath, either... until I turned them on their side. They're pokey - again the risk of puncturing something - so -- the other straight piece that goes with them became a brace.
Success! We got the car jacked up, didn't rip off any fingers, got the donut on. Lowered the jack...and it wouldn't fit back out (we'd hoped the donut would be a little higher than the flat, but it wasn't high enough). Jack-up, replace braces, drop down, move jack, jack up, remove braces, drop jack, and realize the donut isn't exactly 'flat'. But it certainly wasn't 'round', either.
Sera commented it looked silly, but that was the least of my concerns. (They do though, don't they?)
"Good enough." Toss everything back in the car, now a bit muddy from the roadside repair, run hurriedly-slowly with a gentle 'whump whump whump' before it became a 'kaaa-chunk, kaaa-chunk' while Sera went home to transfer funds and meet back up with me at the tire shop.
This clerk knows me too? It was easier for him to come outside and see the situation: one totally flat tire on rim in the trunk, with can-stuff doing nothing in it; a half-flat donut without very tight lug-nuts on the car; two tires in the back seat that can be used of two different sizes (one was supposed to match). His job was to make it all good again, however that was best possible.
The right-sized tire's edges were a bit worn, so he hesitated to use it; the other was slightly larger but better, and the flat was one that went with the set of four that was once again three. He chose to put the front tires on the back and put the other two 'good' ones in the front after switching the rim on the flat for one of the spares.
Sera and I took off to do the errands I wanted done, including refilling a prescription to keep me semi-sane. We also went browsing at a used-shop, the winter's answer to garage-sale blues. Sera cut me loose back at my car, and, yeah - they're good guys. They charged me under $20. Of course I'd only switched checking to debit card in the amount I expected spend, and was mildly surprised when my card was declined at the gas station - meaning I couldn't pick up the prescription anyway, which ---- is why I'd gone to Towne in the first place.
On the bright side, it was a nicer day to be mucking about with a tire?
Four hours after leaving the house on an hour's run... I returned. Classes were still waiting, I'd ate cake for breakfast (I consider this the booster-kick on the day, because 'cake for breakfast' falls along the line of 'eat dessert first' - whatever else happens, you know you had your cake) eight hours earlier - it had long passed on - survey cases were downloading for February, and Sera desperately needed her taxes done to catch up on things.
I went back to 'whacking my brains out' on the computer and got last week's assignment done, looked at what is 'supposed to be done' by this Tuesday, had Sera pulling out tax-forms around midnight, and... had a typical day around here? Except I haven't mentioned Matt's household having Whooping Cough loose, which is a bad omen if Val gets sick - she'll be miserably at home with me if she does. I don't personally have time to be sick, it just complicates my days.
Betwixt the classes and taxes, I went outside to romp with the dogs and unkink, which is when one dog mistook the cat in the snowbank for an intruder and leaped in after her. Loopy took off with a screech, but then later I heard this nerve-tingling, injured-cat cry when I tried to call her in: "meow -er" that says "I'm broke, can't move, I'm stuck" in cat language. It was about 10 p.m., so I did what I usually do - I yelled for Sera to find the cat. I'm not useful on blood-and-guts things. Of course this meant trying to find a flashlight to find the cat...
I think the cat was faking it, in snow up to her belly and acting like she couldn't move until fawned over a bit. Fine as soon as she heard a can opening.
Okay, so yes, this is the cat that ran up a scrabby pine tree as a kitten when it was freezing drizzle out, panicked and 'stuck there' for a few hours. It wasn't a tree I could climb easily (too skinny) and she was pretty high-up, so I resolved the matter by sawing the tree down. It toppled kind of slowly (if you weren't the cat in it) and landed on branches, and the cat came streaking out, and we really didn't need this tree, so it all worked out.
Anyway... what I've figured out is that tires can be 'frozen round'. Then when a warm day happens, they thaw out and go flat. In hindsight, I should have heeded that 'nudge' on Friday, and I hope you've learned something from this.
I did feel that faint nudge to check the air in my tires, but it wasn't at-the-time critical. Figured if it presented itself on Saturday, I'd check it then.
I was also recalling a previous trip when I went to the store to buy toilet paper (we were O-U-T) to save Sera a trip. I had meandered around the store, found a beautiful chocolate cake in the bakery department at a reduced price, so bought it and hob-nobbed with the clerk. I paused to read the bulletin board on my way out, getting gloves and keys ready to face the cold. Got home sans cake, and realized I'd totally spaced-out buying toilet paper. Called the store and they fetched the cake from the gumball machine I'd perched it on, then called Sera to get the cake and - buy toilet paper. More than likely, I'd been 'whacking my brains out on the computer' and hadn't fully reoriented to this world, and yes - a lost chocolate cake is deflating.
Probably not as deflated as the tire was yesterday. I planned a quick trip in-and-out out of Towne after 'whacking my brains out' for 4 or 5 hours in the morning, and the weather was astoundingly warm! Yee-ha! Once I hit pavement proper, there was a most-obvious problem with a tire. Not even the gentle whump-whump-whump of one getting seriously low, but the kaa-thunk... kaa-thunk of "not good." I figured I'd cripple it back the mile home, but I couldn't risk the rim and it was "not good."
I realized if the car was technically 'on the road', my triple-AAA just-paid-renewal would cover towing to the repair shop; if it were at home, they wouldn't. Logic, best to leave it on the road then. A nice gent gave me a lift the short distance home; I called to check hours for repairs and had time to get it in - and yes, I knew exactly where the two tires were under the snow that had been saved for such an occasion.
Plan A: Call triple-AAA, get the car towed to the shop, have Sera run me and the tires back up to my car before the truck showed up, proceed with errands and get back to assignments.
Optional Plan A: Called son Matt, see if his air compressor would be available if I chose to fill the tire and run madly for the shop. It was, but seemed like a lot of fuss to fetch it.
On-hold with AAA, Sera thought we should just get a can of fix-a-flat and be done with it.
Plan B: Sera drove me up to the station for the can of fix-it. I threw the two tires in my car, put the fuse back in that I have to pull regularly since it drains the battery if left in, gave Sera my secret numbers to transfer funds via computer to my debit card to cover the tire while Sera put in the can of fix-a-flat.
The tire chuckled - probably smashed loose off the rim, and wherever the can-stuff was going, it wasn't doing a pound of good.
Plan C: I did have the spare donut and a jack in the trunk. (I know, I could have just done this sooner, hmm?) I'd never had it out, but seemed a like a quick solution - and it looked pretty round, because no - I've never checked the air in it. They should just be made out of solid rubber anyway; odds are, they'll never really be filled if you need it, they're only good for a short distance, and why not? - that's my opinion.
So... I have the hydraulic jack out, and - it won't actually fit under my car with a totally flat tire. Most of the car is plastic or rust, and the last thing I wanted to do was pop the jack through something critical, like the oil pan. We messed about with this, no handy bricks or blocks around (I should just keep a few in the trunk, too) to double-step around the jacking-up process, trying to feel where something solid may be underneath. The jack-stands or block-stands or whatever they are wouldn't fit underneath, either... until I turned them on their side. They're pokey - again the risk of puncturing something - so -- the other straight piece that goes with them became a brace.
Success! We got the car jacked up, didn't rip off any fingers, got the donut on. Lowered the jack...and it wouldn't fit back out (we'd hoped the donut would be a little higher than the flat, but it wasn't high enough). Jack-up, replace braces, drop down, move jack, jack up, remove braces, drop jack, and realize the donut isn't exactly 'flat'. But it certainly wasn't 'round', either.
Sera commented it looked silly, but that was the least of my concerns. (They do though, don't they?)
"Good enough." Toss everything back in the car, now a bit muddy from the roadside repair, run hurriedly-slowly with a gentle 'whump whump whump' before it became a 'kaaa-chunk, kaaa-chunk' while Sera went home to transfer funds and meet back up with me at the tire shop.
This clerk knows me too? It was easier for him to come outside and see the situation: one totally flat tire on rim in the trunk, with can-stuff doing nothing in it; a half-flat donut without very tight lug-nuts on the car; two tires in the back seat that can be used of two different sizes (one was supposed to match). His job was to make it all good again, however that was best possible.
The right-sized tire's edges were a bit worn, so he hesitated to use it; the other was slightly larger but better, and the flat was one that went with the set of four that was once again three. He chose to put the front tires on the back and put the other two 'good' ones in the front after switching the rim on the flat for one of the spares.
Sera and I took off to do the errands I wanted done, including refilling a prescription to keep me semi-sane. We also went browsing at a used-shop, the winter's answer to garage-sale blues. Sera cut me loose back at my car, and, yeah - they're good guys. They charged me under $20. Of course I'd only switched checking to debit card in the amount I expected spend, and was mildly surprised when my card was declined at the gas station - meaning I couldn't pick up the prescription anyway, which ---- is why I'd gone to Towne in the first place.
On the bright side, it was a nicer day to be mucking about with a tire?
Four hours after leaving the house on an hour's run... I returned. Classes were still waiting, I'd ate cake for breakfast (I consider this the booster-kick on the day, because 'cake for breakfast' falls along the line of 'eat dessert first' - whatever else happens, you know you had your cake) eight hours earlier - it had long passed on - survey cases were downloading for February, and Sera desperately needed her taxes done to catch up on things.
I went back to 'whacking my brains out' on the computer and got last week's assignment done, looked at what is 'supposed to be done' by this Tuesday, had Sera pulling out tax-forms around midnight, and... had a typical day around here? Except I haven't mentioned Matt's household having Whooping Cough loose, which is a bad omen if Val gets sick - she'll be miserably at home with me if she does. I don't personally have time to be sick, it just complicates my days.
Betwixt the classes and taxes, I went outside to romp with the dogs and unkink, which is when one dog mistook the cat in the snowbank for an intruder and leaped in after her. Loopy took off with a screech, but then later I heard this nerve-tingling, injured-cat cry when I tried to call her in: "meow -er" that says "I'm broke, can't move, I'm stuck" in cat language. It was about 10 p.m., so I did what I usually do - I yelled for Sera to find the cat. I'm not useful on blood-and-guts things. Of course this meant trying to find a flashlight to find the cat...
I think the cat was faking it, in snow up to her belly and acting like she couldn't move until fawned over a bit. Fine as soon as she heard a can opening.
Okay, so yes, this is the cat that ran up a scrabby pine tree as a kitten when it was freezing drizzle out, panicked and 'stuck there' for a few hours. It wasn't a tree I could climb easily (too skinny) and she was pretty high-up, so I resolved the matter by sawing the tree down. It toppled kind of slowly (if you weren't the cat in it) and landed on branches, and the cat came streaking out, and we really didn't need this tree, so it all worked out.
Anyway... what I've figured out is that tires can be 'frozen round'. Then when a warm day happens, they thaw out and go flat. In hindsight, I should have heeded that 'nudge' on Friday, and I hope you've learned something from this.
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