And what country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
All of the big ones are back drilled and epoxy pinned to a solid poured concrete firebox lined with Maryland brick, all the smaller ones are back mudded to the firebox. You're not going to pull one out with your bare hand.
Some people are very good at dry stonework. An uncle was so exceptional that those who got him to build their fireplaces, out of river rolled granite stone, they had to leave him be, living in the unfinished house, sometimes for months, because my uncle was a raging drunk, he never quibbled about his monetary reward, he would simply build a fireplace and accept whatever was given to him, cause he inly committed to a work because he needed booze money and a dry place to crash at. But he was rightfully famous. My old pop would drop me off sometimes so somebody could keep an eye on me, but I never strayed because watching my uncle stare for hours sometimes at dump truck loads of river stone, to find the perfect piece, was truly fascinating, and long as I pretty much kept my mouth shut my uncle was easy to be around even terribly hungover and hadn't eaten for days. Pop would leave us lunch or something to fix up for gut lumber, and while eating he would tell all sorts of stories about his life in the White Mountains. He eventually died from his drinking, thiugh the booze actually saved his life for awhile. See pop and I had bought and driven up a nice older 3/4 ton Ford, a truck he could haul stone in. One evening coming down off a job up the Hurricane Road, drunk as a skunk, he went off the ravine, hit a tree on the way down going so fast he went thru the windshield, so far the Sheriff could'nt find him at first because he landed so far down from the truvk in the snow, he had crawled up against a tree, had a punctured lung from a broken lung, a broke right arm, and a leg fracture, he had leaned against that tree for a day and a half before he was brought up out of the hollow, in the hospital got pneumonia and died. But man could that guy build stone walls and chimneys, he built some of the finest work I ever seen.
A character for sure, even though my aunt divorced him she still treated him right and tried helping him, he was just lost to the alcohol devil, down that dark road. Treated me ok, i was pretty little, like 10 when he died, might stay with him whole weekend sometimes, he loved brook trout so i would fish the nearest brook, and he would let me have some beer when we would eat them up, but how he figured out the stone he would need was uncanny, like he had a 5 axis imagination, he saw a wall or a chimney in 5D, always with a PallMall sticking out his mouth, stand in one spot looking down for so long u would get worried, then grab that stone and it would fit allmost every time. Everyone loved him, whole town too, just one of those characters.
How to tell me you don't live in a seismically active zone without telling me you don't live in a seismically active zone.
ReplyDeleteAll of the big ones are back drilled and epoxy pinned to a solid poured concrete firebox lined with Maryland brick, all the smaller ones are back mudded to the firebox. You're not going to pull one out with your bare hand.
DeleteSome people are very good at dry stonework. An uncle was so exceptional that those who got him to build their fireplaces, out of river rolled granite stone, they had to leave him be, living in the unfinished house, sometimes for months, because my uncle was a raging drunk, he never quibbled about his monetary reward, he would simply build a fireplace and accept whatever was given to him, cause he inly committed to a work because he needed booze money and a dry place to crash at. But he was rightfully famous. My old pop would drop me off sometimes so somebody could keep an eye on me, but I never strayed because watching my uncle stare for hours sometimes at dump truck loads of river stone, to find the perfect piece, was truly fascinating, and long as I pretty much kept my mouth shut my uncle was easy to be around even terribly hungover and hadn't eaten for days. Pop would leave us lunch or something to fix up for gut lumber, and while eating he would tell all sorts of stories about his life in the White Mountains. He eventually died from his drinking, thiugh the booze actually saved his life for awhile. See pop and I had bought and driven up a nice older 3/4 ton Ford, a truck he could haul stone in. One evening coming down off a job up the Hurricane Road, drunk as a skunk, he went off the ravine, hit a tree on the way down going so fast he went thru the windshield, so far the Sheriff could'nt find him at first because he landed so far down from the truvk in the snow, he had crawled up against a tree, had a punctured lung from a broken lung, a broke right arm, and a leg fracture, he had leaned against that tree for a day and a half before he was brought up out of the hollow, in the hospital got pneumonia and died. But man could that guy build stone walls and chimneys, he built some of the finest work I ever seen.
ReplyDeleteGreat story, Anon! Your uncle was one amazing man.
DeleteA character for sure, even though my aunt divorced him she still treated him right and tried helping him, he was just lost to the alcohol devil, down that dark road. Treated me ok, i was pretty little, like 10 when he died, might stay with him whole weekend sometimes, he loved brook trout so i would fish the nearest brook, and he would let me have some beer when we would eat them up, but how he figured out the stone he would need was uncanny, like he had a 5 axis imagination, he saw a wall or a chimney in 5D, always with a PallMall sticking out his mouth, stand in one spot looking down for so long u would get worried, then grab that stone and it would fit allmost every time. Everyone loved him, whole town too, just one of those characters.
Deletethat is cooler than science
ReplyDeleteWaste of time and stone
ReplyDeleteMaybe turn off your devices and, you know, get outside a bit…
DeleteThis is stone cold art, heated.
enema.
DeleteBeautiful work.
ReplyDeleteIf I were to build an outdoor fireplace, I would love to have this one.
ReplyDeleteExceptional. I can imagine that they are all one of a kind in some way.
ReplyDelete