Oh Frabjous Day!
Yesterday was about mucking around in the pond. It was over 100 F. and a good day to climb in and get slimy.
The pedastal got moved, the basin got re-seated, and the water lilies got replanted: with smooth river stones to hold them down and keep the lovely koi at bay. The fountain worked at least until early morning. Never let anyone tell you that it is a good idea to pump the dirty water (rather than the clean) through your fountain. There is some re-engineering to be done here...
And then today dawned.
Jonathon had promised to come up and work on the tea house, and he did indeed.
The fear and anxiety generated by comparing numbers and measurements had been awful. The tea room itself had been built to accomodate my old tatami, and I did not realize that they may shrink with age. The new tatami, also of standard Edoyama size, turned out to be bigger. Outa San, who made them, advised that it would be less expensive to plane down the shimmed edging that to recut the mats to accomodate about an eighth of an inch.
My boy Keith drew plans for how that might happen, but I had doubts. He is, after all, president of Off-Kilter Engineering.
Jon returned my hammer this morning, so while he worked on the mizuya, putting in pieces of wood that were being clutter rather than useful, I finished hanging some of my diplomas/certificates. ==Jon then discoveed that we could not find the drill index, so it was time to address the tatami.
To our shock and delight, they all fitted in nicely. All the math was wrong. (Good thing I don't believe in numbers anymore.)
Having ascertained that they fit in the winter configuration, we then decided to move them into the summer configuration. A call to my friend Duffy, who called his Sensei (mine was away) got us the last detail, and it was time for me to wash the floor of the mizuya.
That done, the last mat was installed.
Trembling with anticipation, I made tea for Jon.
Well, trembling like Meathead San is more like it. First I realized that I did not have my fukusa or other personal gear. So we stopped, I ran back to the house, and then we started again.
I was doing Summer Bowl, and it went well right up to the point where I had folded the chakin... And had no place to put it because I had missed removing the lid of the kettle. Er, you can't get there from here.
Back into the bowl of water with the chakin, do the lid removal, do the chakin moves again, and then, finally, things went as they should have.
Well, except for the bugs. We don't have the shoji for the windows up yet, so the bugs come in. Oh, and except that part way through I realized that I had not put my glasses back on, and I was flying blind, occassionally missing the kensui when I emptied the rinse water.
It is so nice not having the straw coming up every time one moves. So nice not having holes under part of one.
***
I walked the dogs just after midnight, but the horney black cat kept tripping us. Then I went over to close the chickens in, and the Chickens Of Doom had scratched the leaves onto the path so thickly that I slipped and fell, pulling some unfortuante muscles. So tommorow I will wear the truss.
Because tomorrow we go to the Fair and see if I won any prizes.
Oh, Happy Happy Joy Joy, the mats all fit, the tea house progresses!
The pedastal got moved, the basin got re-seated, and the water lilies got replanted: with smooth river stones to hold them down and keep the lovely koi at bay. The fountain worked at least until early morning. Never let anyone tell you that it is a good idea to pump the dirty water (rather than the clean) through your fountain. There is some re-engineering to be done here...
And then today dawned.
Jonathon had promised to come up and work on the tea house, and he did indeed.
The fear and anxiety generated by comparing numbers and measurements had been awful. The tea room itself had been built to accomodate my old tatami, and I did not realize that they may shrink with age. The new tatami, also of standard Edoyama size, turned out to be bigger. Outa San, who made them, advised that it would be less expensive to plane down the shimmed edging that to recut the mats to accomodate about an eighth of an inch.
My boy Keith drew plans for how that might happen, but I had doubts. He is, after all, president of Off-Kilter Engineering.
Jon returned my hammer this morning, so while he worked on the mizuya, putting in pieces of wood that were being clutter rather than useful, I finished hanging some of my diplomas/certificates. ==Jon then discoveed that we could not find the drill index, so it was time to address the tatami.
To our shock and delight, they all fitted in nicely. All the math was wrong. (Good thing I don't believe in numbers anymore.)
Having ascertained that they fit in the winter configuration, we then decided to move them into the summer configuration. A call to my friend Duffy, who called his Sensei (mine was away) got us the last detail, and it was time for me to wash the floor of the mizuya.
That done, the last mat was installed.
Trembling with anticipation, I made tea for Jon.
Well, trembling like Meathead San is more like it. First I realized that I did not have my fukusa or other personal gear. So we stopped, I ran back to the house, and then we started again.
I was doing Summer Bowl, and it went well right up to the point where I had folded the chakin... And had no place to put it because I had missed removing the lid of the kettle. Er, you can't get there from here.
Back into the bowl of water with the chakin, do the lid removal, do the chakin moves again, and then, finally, things went as they should have.
Well, except for the bugs. We don't have the shoji for the windows up yet, so the bugs come in. Oh, and except that part way through I realized that I had not put my glasses back on, and I was flying blind, occassionally missing the kensui when I emptied the rinse water.
It is so nice not having the straw coming up every time one moves. So nice not having holes under part of one.
***
I walked the dogs just after midnight, but the horney black cat kept tripping us. Then I went over to close the chickens in, and the Chickens Of Doom had scratched the leaves onto the path so thickly that I slipped and fell, pulling some unfortuante muscles. So tommorow I will wear the truss.
Because tomorrow we go to the Fair and see if I won any prizes.
Oh, Happy Happy Joy Joy, the mats all fit, the tea house progresses!