My Shit Will be Contained
The Diesel Mechanic and I spent Monday figuring out where to dig a really big hole for the septic tank, which was to be delivered the following day by the Hilfiker Pipe Company out of Eureka. It was originally supposed to be placed behind the house, which was bad for a few different reasons. The Diesel Mechanic said the system would work better if the tank was placed in front of the house. I could see that he was right, but was concerned that any change might delay the project. I was pleasantly surprised when we were able to straighten out the matter with a simple phone call to the inspector.
I stayed with the Purple Cowboy on Monday night. We got up at dawn and headed over to the Worm Lady’s for coffee and French toast the next morning. Later, I was supposed to meet a caravan of cowboys who were headed deep into the interior to brand calves. I had planned to film them, thinking I might be able to use some of the footage for next year’s short at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, but the rain came early, so I decided not to go.
We headed back to my place to wait for the Hilfiker driver, who turned out to be a little early. He gingerly unloaded the tank with a boom on the truck, and to the Diesel Mechanic’s credit, we didn’t have to adjust it at all. He dug the hole with a perfectly level bottom. Nice work, Diesel Mechanic!
Unfortunately, it’s been raining pretty hard, and we have to leave everything uncovered until the inspector has a looksee. It turns out that a concrete tank--even one as big as this one--will float in just a little bit of water. When I woke up this morning, it was pouring and I was a little scared to go over and check the hole. It appears to be draining fine, though, so hopefully everything will be OK. The weather is supposed to let up a little bit tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Tomorrow, the installation guy is coming with my broadband satellite dish. I can hardly wait. Once I put in an outdoor shower, I may not need that house....
I Live in a Trailer House
I’m not sure when you’ve officially broken ground on a new house, but an event that I believe probably qualifies is just around the corner for me. Next Monday, my neighbor (and possibly the nicest diesel mechanic you will ever meet in your life) will cruise over to my place in his backhoe to dig a hole expansive enough to hold a tank that will prevent up to 1,500 gallons of my very own excrement from contaminating the town of Blocksburg. Exciting? Yes! I can’t exactly say the rest of the townspeople are cheering, but my friends and neighbors have graciously offered all sorts of help and advice that has left me experiencing feelings that I usually only reserve for baby animals.
Help happens spontaneously around here, and I have learned to drop whatever I’m doing and accept it when it comes . That’s how I ended up filling propane tanks in one of my cutest outfits over at the Alderpoint Store today. I was on my way to Eureka to replace my cellphone for the second time in less than a month when I spotted the Diesel Mechanic on the road and stopped to chat. Not only did he offer to help me hook up the propane at the trailer where I’m staying, but he also ran an extension cord from his house so I can have power, which means I can order a satellite Internet connection tomorrow. I am a very happy girl. He also brought me a microwave and helped me figure out what I need to fix the water. My quality of life drastically improved in just a couple of hours. Sure, even as I type this (for uploading later at the Worm Lady’s house), I’m thinking about how I should walk up a very steep hill to the outhouse before I turn in for bed, but still...things aren’t too bad right now.
Story Machines
After three weeks of late nights--and yes, a few tears--I just finished my short for this year’s National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. It’s all about my grampa and his PhonOcord. Thanks to Marco for the music, which we recorded in my kitchen. I’m sure that alone would have made Grampa very proud!
And Now Look What's in the Paper!
Me! And my mom! And our little history book! If you click through to the article, note how my mom says I *was* in the Internet industry (she claims the reporter took it out of context). I’ll have you know I try to work at least two hours a day, Mother!
Look What's in the Mail!
And on their way to little ol’ me! I received a surprise check in the mail and these shoes went on sale at the exact same time for the exact same price. Since I’ve been ogling them for months, I assumed this could only be the result of some sort of divine intervention, although truthfully, I don’t really believe in that. I mean, surely Jesus (or whoever) has more important things to worry about than whether I have a pair of hand-tooled, four-and-half-inch, ankle-strap heels, right?
Lulu and Her Tongue
When I was home this weekend, Dad gave me this photo he took of Lulu. She’s something else, that dog.
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My Projects
- Web: TED's Translation Project
- DVD: How to make cowboy boots
- Book: My grandmother's life story
- Always: The House!
My Short Films
- What's a Nice Girl like You...
- Story Machines
- Boot Camp
- Moving Horses from Montana to Washington in 1903 (audio)
My Tweets
My Photos
The Blocksburg Book
