My Bane

          Hello my loves — and you are all my loves.

          How about a sunrise photo to kick this week off.

          I love the game 3003 Crystal Mazes. I've been playing it for years. Actually, for the last three years or so, I've mostly been not playing it. I go in streaks, you know what I mean? This particular puzzle has been my bane for months and months and months! Every once in awhile I'll open the game and there it is! I'll move the diamonds around for a while then give up and close it. The next time I open it, there it is again.

          "Peg, why don't you just move on to another puzzle?" you ask.

          Because I know that every puzzle has an answer and I'm not giving up until I find it. And you know what? It only makes it that much more satisfying when I finally do figure it out. The taste of victory is so sweet I'll often times replay it over and over before I go to the next puzzle.

         

          Our new bridge.

          On Monday, they poured the deck. Mike and I got there just about the time the pumper truck came in and we watched as he got set up. The stabilizer arms came out...

          ... the boom extended.

         

          Steven saw us and waved. Look at that grin, would ya. There's a man who appreciates home-baked goodies! I made Lemon Bars for them this week.

          "Holy cow!" Mike said when they were testing it and the pumper boom was fully extended. "Look how far it goes out." He was quiet a moment as he thought things over. "I wonder how it can support all that weight. Concrete is heavy!"

          The first concrete truck came. A couple of guys filled a couple of buckets with concrete and carried them back across the bridge.  

          "Why are they doing that?" you may wonder.

          They have to have samples from every batch of concrete so they can test it. They do a seven-day break and a twenty-eight-day break testing the concrete for fracture strength.

          "What happens if it doesn't pass?" you ask.

          I know, right! I wanted to know the same thing.

          "They have to come in and core it and break it again. Then if it doesn't pass then there's a penalty," Brian, the inspector told us.

          "Is it a safety issue?" I wanted to know. All I needed was to be worrying about bridges falling out from underneath me when I'm going across. "Or does it just mean the bridge won't last as long?"

          "Right. It could not last or it could just crumble. I don't really know because I've never had that happen. That's why you use a reputable concrete company."

          When they pour a deck they call in a lot of help. There were two and a half crews here this day, sixteen guys. We got to meet and talk with Keith, one of the other crew leaders.

          "So tell me what each part of the Bidwell does?" I asked. Is that a question? Do I put a question mark there? Oh, well. Trivialities. You guys know what I mean even if I don't get it right all the time.

          Keith pointed, "The first piece makes it all the same depth, the second one floats it, and the third one is for putting on the burlap."

          I had it in my head that the first section somehow poured the concrete but that isn't it at all. The pumper truck pumps the concrete onto the deck and this machine has roller brushes on it and runs back and forth. The ends and the edges have to be hand troweled.

          Once the first section of the Bidwell was out of the way, they swung the second section into place. The third one was already there.

          We watched as Max and Wayne, one of the mechanics (he was there to fix the heater in the track hoe) set the section into place.

          "How much concrete do you think is in the boom of the pumper?" Mike asked Keith.

          "A yard. Maybe a yard and-a-half."

          "What's a yard of concrete weigh?"

          "Four thousand pounds."

          "Wow," Mike said. "Two tons. That's a lot of weight on the boom."

          Part of the finishing process of concrete is to float it. That makes the concrete smooth and compacts it.

          "They have to hand push that section?" I asked as two guys pushed Max along on the track.

          "Well, sure," came from Mike along with a confused expression. "Why?"

          "I just thought it might be attached to the first section and it would move with it." Shows you what I know!

          The third section of the Bidwell machine was used to hold the wet burlap in preparation for laying it. Here two guys are getting the burlap out of a water trough and laying it out. 

 

          "What's the deal with the wet burlap?" you ask.

          The wet burlap slows the cure time of the concrete. That makes it strong. To keep it wet they have a soaker hose attached to a small pump in the creek. 

          One of the guys got in the back of a small yellow trailer and Mike and I hadn't yet figured out what it was. I asked Keith. "What's the little yellow trailer?"

          "It's the heater."

          A heater? I'm thinking. A heater dries stuff out and they want the burlap wet. So what's the heater for?

          Don't laugh. I asked.

          The slightest of smiles cross Keith's lips as he says, "To keep it from freezing."

          That was a dah moment for me.

          I Googled it. The Wacker Neuson E 3000 is a reliable hydronic (water) surface heater designed to quickly, easily, and economically thaw frozen ground, cure concrete, prevent frost, and provide temporary air heat during cold weather conditions.

          Here's the deck covered in wet burlap. The whole thing gets covered with plastic and it has to stay in this stage for a week.

          The rest of the week they prepared the approach to the bridge but it's been so cold here that we haven't spent much time there.

          Ginger had an appointment to see  Dr. Lori for a post-op check.

           On the way we pass the site of the new LNG plant. That's Liquefied Natural Gas in case you've forgotten. I saw in the newspaper where protesters were picketing the construction.

          A drainage ditch will run through where the town of Friedenshutten once stood. Kayakers and canoers will pass by the site of this $800 million dollar project on their way down the Susquehanna River.

          "It's destroying our history and environment in one fell swoop," one of the organizers said.

          For Mike, the fascination is in the amount of big equipment they have and watching it at work. If there was a place we could pull off and watch for a while I'm sure we would do it.

          Ginger, by the way, is doing well. Dr. Lori thinks the knot in her belly is softer than the last time she examined it. Ginger goes back again in early December.

          Snow!

          We had snow!

          Not a lot but I made an effort to get a few pictures for you.

          Winterberries.         

  

          The neighbor's yard, so pretty in the summer, is even pretty in the winter.

          We went to see if the bridge guys were working and they were. They were taking the Bidwell machine down since they were done with it.

 

          Our Tractor Supply store had birdseed on sale so we made the trip (14 miles) to pick up what I'd need to see our birds through the winter.

          "Can we take 187 today?" I asked.

          "I hate that road," Mike said and I know he does. He'd rather stay on Highway 6.

          "Please? Maybe I can get some pictures for my blog."

          Mike didn't say anything but when the turn came up to 187, he took it. Here's your pictures from that trip.

          We came to the house that was destroyed in the flood a couple of three years ago. "I wonder why no one's torn it down and cleaned it up," Mike said.

          "Maybe they're still waiting on insurance. You know how they are."

          I missed the sale. Tractor Supply only runs its sales from Wednesday to Sunday. I missed it by a long shot.

          "So it was a wasted trip?" Mike was not happy with me!

          "I got some pretty pictures..." His scowled deepened. "And we can have lunch at McDonald's!"

          It didn't provide much balm for the wounded beast, but sausage egg McMuffins for lunch perked him up a little.

          On the way home we go past the new building that Mike and I were having a debate about. The bottom of the building was left open. I thought they were going to add decorative brick. Mike thought it would be windows. I knew that time would tell. Time has told. We were both wrong. It's a decorative border, just not brick. I think it's just a different color metal.

          I made chocolate chip cookies this week. This time I wasn't baking for the bridge guys and I wasn't baking for the Kipps. This time I was baking for my Mike and my friend Jody's Mike.

          I just think it made a pretty picture and I wanted to share that with you.

          I was at the kitchen window and saw Spitfire come tearing across the yard. I had little time to wonder if he was chasing or being chased when Mr. Mister came around the corner hot on his tail. Spitfire hit the weeds and made his way through the brush to the house. He never slowed as he jumped the fence. Mr. Mister was right behind him. I opened the door and yelled at Mr. I don't know what gets into him sometimes but he gets in a really foul mood and whomps on the other cats.

          A little later I saw him go after Smudge. Smudge didn't run. Smudge just hunkered down. I shooed Mr. away before he could hurt Smudge and made Smudge come into the house.

          Mike and I haven't been out to breakfast in a month of Sundays. We decided to go on Saturday morning.

          Part of the dirt road we have to travel with the bridge being closed. Yes, that's a steep bank on the right-hand side. No, there are no guide rails. But don't worry. If you go off the road the trees'll stop you before you get to the creek.

          This is the section of the road that started slipping. I don't know how long the barrier's been in place but it's the first time we've seen it.

          "I guess they don't plan on fixing it for a while," Mike said.

          Betsy!

          I've missed this smiling beautiful face. Betsy's a good waitress. She's very friendly, always happy with a ready smile, and very attentive.

          When we were going to breakfast pretty often, we'd go on Thursday and Betsy was almost always the only waitress on duty. Saturdays are busier and there was another gal on duty. She was passably attentive but didn't have a single smile for us.

          When Betsy came close, busing the table behind us, we made some small talk.

          "How have you kids been?" Betsy asked.

          "Good. You?"

          "I'm alright," she said with a smile.

          "Betsy, I'd rather have you than that old sourpuss over there," I told her.

          She opened her mouth to say something and closed it again, thinking better of it.

          "Shhhhh!" Mike hissed at me.

          "What!" I was indignant. "Others have probably told her that same thing!"

          Betsy bobbed her head, a knowing smile on her face, and was off with a tray full of dirty dishes.

          It wasn't terribly cold, the sun was shining, and I didn't want to go right home. "Do you think they tore down the Friendenshutton memorial?" I asked.

          "I don't know," Mike answered.

          I was pleased when the turn came and he made it.

          The memorial is still there. In the background you can see the groundwork being laid for the LNG plant.

          A second picture has the moon still in the sky at 10:30 in the morning.

          "How does a corn picker miss three stalks like that?" I mused.

          "Maybe it's like the lawnmower," Mike guessed. "They bend down and spring up after the picker is passed."

          "Do you think they bought all this land down to the river?"

          "I don't know," Mike answered.

          The little road we were on dead ends a little further down. We drove down to the dead end where a house stands. Although there is stuff all around, it doesn't feel like anyone's living there. 

          I saw a Pileated Woodpecker! I only got two shots of him and even though they're not great, this is the best I got.

          All along the road, Bittersweet is draped over the leafless trees. The red berries are like beacons. The vines twist around anything they can, climbing to the sun.

          I took lots of shots of the Bittersweet as we drove along the tracks but they weren't anything worth writing home about. 

          This pole has a birdhouse on it.

          Several had Bittersweet climbing all over them and I started taking pictures of those.

          Another birdhouse. I'm not sure what the white-painted wire wrapping the post is for.

          A hand-painted sign attached to this old barn declares it once was home to antiques.

          A close-up of whatever's sticking out the upper door shows it's a box of hangers. On my computer, I recognize that pattern! 

          Somewhere along the line, I picked up a sewing box with this very same pattern. I got my camera, went out into the library turned storage, and took a picture to show you.

          What do you think? Mine has legs, and still some yarns and things inside from whoever owned it before me and it doesn't have the ruffle, but maybe that had been removed. I have a feeling the one in the doorway is upside down. 

          I didn't need the sewing box I own — would you call it a sewing box or does it have another name? — and I've never done anything with it other than pile stuff on it. The people at the sale begged me to take it, so I did. I could see, in some other life, how this could become a treasured piece in my home, but for right now, there isn't room.

          The barn being built on our back dirt road is making steady headway. Even as I snapped this picture the guy was in his bucket truck working on the roof edge.

          Since we were out in the Jeep we went to check on the bridge.

          "They poured concrete on our end of the bridge," the Kipps told us.

          Mike knew it would be covered with plastic but we went to see anyway.

          Brian told us they have to pour the center of the bridge first, leaving eight feet on either end. Once all the camber is out of the bridge, usually the next day, they'll pour the remaining eight feet.

          We were leaving the job site when I spotted a blob of concrete.

          "There's a pile of concrete," I pointed out to Mike.

          "I know. I already said that. Sometimes you don't listen to me."

          I just smiled. It's an old game with us. "I don't have to listen the first time," is my standard response. "I know you'll tell me at least ten more times." It reminded me of a cow pie and I told him so. "It looks like a pile of poo."

          "You have a fascination with poo."

          I pretended to misunderstand him. "I do have an imagination."

          "Not imagination — fascination!"

          This time I outright ignored him. "If you squint your eyes and cock your head a little and use your imagination, it looks just like poo."

          Mike gave up and I smiled.

          I've had a backache all week. I was using my heating pad — I love my heating pad! — but after using it my back seemed worse. I gave up and used ice packs instead and that really helped. For a couple of days I didn't do much except hold down the recliner and read. I read two Francine Rivers books this week. I raced through The Atonement Child in two days. I slowed down a little and took three days to read The Last Sin Eater. They're Christian novels and I really, really enjoyed them. After I finish this letter blog (and we are almost there), I'm going to take the iPad and cruise the library shelves in the Libby app and find my next read.

          Until next time, know that you are all in my heart.

          Let's call this one done!