Thursday, July 23, 2009 - Red Rock, East Chatham NY
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LD's kitchen and a peek aft into my study, July 19, 2009
Today I started a project to reduce the weight and intrusiveness of the bed in my study
Today I shed quite a few pounds from this Lazy Daze' load and opened up my study area considerably. I didn't get good picture of the study but I think you can get a sense of how the bed intrudes into the study. A year or so back I replaced the old collapsing convertible sofa cushion with a twin mattress. This is a comfortable arrangement but is a bit large for the space and heavy to boot. Today I tossed it out along with the underlying sofa pullout mechanism that is designed to convert the sofa to a double bed. I salvaged the 4 inch foam from the overcab bed and added 4 inches of memory foam topper. I now have a comfortable 30 inch wide bed and a much larger study. Nice.
Night camp
On my property off Less Traveled Road - The Home Place, Red Rock, East Chatham NY
- I used to camp in a few locations on what little I had left of the family farm
- In the driveway by the house
- Across the road where the barn once stood
- On the 20 acre piece off Less Traveled Road
- Now, with the kind support of the friends who now own the place, I camp across the road where the barn once stood.
- Verizon cell phone service - Terrible, barely usable with an amplifier
- Verizon EVDO service - Terrible, barely usable with an amplifier
- Find other references to Home Place
- List the nights I've camped here
- Check the weather here
It's No Use Arguing Tastes with a Cow
By what appears, furthermore, to be the compensating justice of Nature, the treasures of the earth are always hidden in the most unattractive, dismal, and dreary spots. At least all the mining places I ever visited are so located, and Bisbee is no exception. To get away from the cramped little village and its unsavoury restaurant, I established my first camp four miles south of it on a commodious and pleasant opening, where we could do our own cooking. But here a new annoyance, and rather a curious one, was met with. The cattle of the region evinced a peculiar predilection for our wearing apparel. Especially at night, the cows would come wandering in among our tents, like the party who goes about seeking what he may devour, and on getting hold of some such choice morsel as a sock, shirt, or blanket, Mrs. Bossie would chew and chew, “gradually,” to quote Mark Twain, “taking it in, all the while opening and closing her eyes in a kind of religious ecstasy, as if she had never tasted anything quite as good as an overcoat before in her life.” It is no use arguing about tastes, not even with a cow.