Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Catching up with the blog




As you can probably tell from the two posts below, especially the one about my uncle's death, we have been busy this summer with foreseen and unforeseen events.

The first, and planned, event, was our family trip to the United Kingdom. My sister Carol was getting married, to the inestimable Mr. Wayne, and required the presence of her niece to help officiate, and this happy event further required a considerable work of logistics and child psychology to get said niece, all of two and two thirds years old, across the Atlantic. We used Icelandair for this, and recommend the airline, but the airport at Keflavik is sadly overcrowded and below par.

Here's the little flower girl on duty, wearing the new dress that mommy made especially for the wedding:


And here she is again with Aunt Carol and Uncle Wayne.


Unfortunately, while we were preparing to leave, another British relative, my cousin Barrie Lockwood, AKA "Uncle Barrie," suddenly died. Barrie was getting on and not well, having been living in a care home for nearly two years, so while the death was sudden, it wasn't unexpected, but it meant my sister and I had a funeral to arrange almost immediately after the wedding.

We stayed in the UK for about ten days and did a lot of tourist things when we were not busy with weddings and funerals. We stayed in vacation cottages in the Peak District National Park, one in Castleton, the other in Tideswell. Both were nice, and recommended.

Tideswell, which we only booked because we had to stay in the area for the funeral, was having its annual festival of Wakes Week and Well Dressings, also recommended. Our kid particularly liked the bumper cars and the tea-cups, below.


Once home, we had a marathon of work to do, and of course had used up much of the cooler early summer weather in which to do it. The garden was thick with weeds, we had a large number of vehicle problems to fix, and the hay to secure. We managed most of this, at some cost in skin and sweat.

Now it's hot and humid, and we're into our midsummer routine of trying only to do physical work when it's cooler. There are still a lot of projects to complete, but we're picking our battles. Stay tuned for more details on the garden and the Land Rover project when we get a chance.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Eulogy for Barrie



Delivered by his cousin Michael at Hutcliff Wood Chapel, Sheffield, June 23rd, 2017.


Good afternoon, and thank you for coming to this short service of remembrance for my cousin Barrie Lockwood. It falls to me as one of his few surviving relatives to say a few words for Barrie, and I hope to be worthy of that honour and to do justice to him.

As I said at my mother’s a few years ago, funerals are for the living, not the dead. They are for us to celebrate the life of the people we liked and loved. This one is for my sister, who was his primary family contact in these last few years and who visited him and gave him news and tried to keep him in the land of the living. It’s for the care home staff, who looked after him very well, and it’s for Aunty Eileen and Hazel and all the rest of us that knew him in happier times.

Barrie Lockwood was born to Harold, a Sheffield steelmaker, and Millicent, a homemaker and the daughter of a master gardener to the Leigh family whose head was at one time the master cutler. 

He was a Sheffield lad and proud of it to the day he died, and loved the industrial history and even the rough, coal-blackened and Victorian splendor of this industrial town. He loved trams and trains and British cars, he liked gritstone architecture, brown ale and brown trousers, and traditional Sheffield food. He lived a life based on Sheffield values of family and hard work and a little fun now and then.

Barry was a bright boy, won a scholarship to King Edwards when it was a grammar school, passed the civil service exam, and began a long career in government, which culminated in his job as Clerk of Sheffield Crown Court, a position that put him mentally and physically at the center of the city and the region and at the center of regional events, specially criminal ones. It was a fine career. Barrie was committed to British government and making it work, especially to old-fashioned British government based on values of reason and decency and plain common sense. Sometimes I think we could use a few more like him today, and a few less of what we have. He took civil service posts here after his father died to look after his mother, and retired early to do more of that, and so lived with Millie, looking after each other at High Storrs Close, until first she died and then he grew ill. Essentially, he lived seventy years of an eighty-year life or more in the same house.

I loved Barrie as my mother’s cousin and as one of the extended Watson clan, now dwindling, that once were much more common in the Mayfield valley. I also liked him. He was fun to be around, both when I was a small boy, and later when I would come home to visit him and Millie at High Storrs. He was also a shoulder to rely on, especially at two particular times, the first during the 1980s when he paid for my initial emigration to America and so gave me the push that would eventually lead to university and an academic career, to my wife Aimee and my daughter Edana whom some of you are meeting for the first time today, assuming she will sit still. The second time Barrie helped me greatly was when my parents had both begun to show signs of dementia, and I was racked with pain and upset at losing them, or at least losing them as I knew them, and Barrie helped me put it in perspective. I still can’t quite put into words what a relief it was to sit and talk to an elderly relative that still, almost to the end, had most of his marbles, when my Mum and Dad were so clearly off their rocker and going beyond my reach. I know Carol feels much the same way. Barrie was a kind and decent and helpful man.

Some particular memories of Barrie include he and my dad Gordon teaching me to play three-card Brag at family parties. I would get a little pocket money from dad, or earn money working for him in the chocolate shop, and Barrie and dad would then relieve me of that money in fairly short order, while I learned the intricacies of the game. It’s going to be hard to explain to the younger generation just how much good clean family fun can be had with just a pack of cards and a small stack of change and two close male relatives intent on relieving you of your cash and teaching you not to be a fool.

I’m not sure they succeeded, but we had fun trying.


Barrie and I were both in the RAF, as was Eileen’s husband Ron. Ron was a Mosquito navigator in World War Two, Barrie was national service in the fifties, and I was a regular in the late seventies and early eighties, so we had that in common. I served at some of the same Vale of York airfields that Barrie had seen twenty years earlier, and played three card brag in some of the same crew rooms.

Barrie liked to talk of his RAF days. He always liked British technology and those were the heydays of British jet flight. Barrie was a clerk in the HQ of a Javelin squadron. Javelins were some of the first truly modern jet fighters and well ahead of their time, and the squadron was led by seasoned veterans of the war. The Soviets were the bad guys by then, and the squadron was needed, and it must have been exciting to be a eighteen-year old lad around all that. Later in life he developed a taste for fast cars, probably related to this experience, and always had some souped-up British car parked outside his house, which was exciting for me as a young lad.

He could talk. Boy, could that man talk, he said. Lapsing into Americanisms. Conversations with Barrie were two, three, four hour affairs. He never seemed to tire of it. But it was always entertaining, and always witty, and always he’d kept up with the news and he knew what was going on and had an interesting opinion and point of view on it all.

I could go on, but this is the new Britain and this chapel and crematorium are run on what my American relatives call a tight schedule, which Barrie never was, and so we had better move on, or we’ll keep the staff from their Friday night relaxation. Barrie would most certainly NOT have wanted to do that.

Barrie Lockwood is gone from us physically, but I will always remember him as the bright and able and witty Sheffield lad he was, fun to be around and good to talk to. I hope you will too.







Monday, July 17, 2017

How to replace a series Land Rover rear cross member

After the fairly long-term success of my post on repairing outriggers (5,700 page views over four years and quite a few comments), here's another on the rear crossmember replacement job.


First, the preparatory work: This is a 1971 Series 2a 88 inch, LHD with the wheels removed. It's now on jackstands (placed forward of the rear springs). The floor, seats, seat box, and tub have all been removed. the rear spring shackles have been undone or cut off, and the differential gearbox and spring assembly rests on the floor jack (AKA "trolley jack" in the UK) or on blocks. The frame has been pressure-washed and brushed lightly with a wire wheel on a hand grinder to remove the worst of the dirt and any loose old finish.

Here we are measuring to record the distance between the front and rear outer tub brackets. We'll keep this measurement the same when we put on the new crossmember. Lots of people advise using the tub as a jig to set this measurement, but to my mind that runs the risk of shortening or lengthening the distance between the front spring mount and the rear upper shackle anchor, which helps set the rear wheel alignment. The tub is flexible, and could be squeezed into a different shape, throwing these measurements off.


As it stands, the passenger side is actually 1/4 inch longer than the other due to a slight driver-side fender-bender. We'll fix this when we fit the new crossmember. The final target measurement to square up the truck is is 48 and 3/8 inches.


We also measured the difference in height between the cross member and the flat top of the frame using a level as a straight edge. We'll keep this measurement the same too, at 1 and 3/8 of an inch.






Then it's time to cut your Rover up! Not for the faint of heart. I started with my 7 inch grinder. My new crossmember has 16 inch frame extensions with four inch welding tabs, so I cut the frame just shy of 12 inches from the old crossmember.



The heavy duty grinder proved too clumsy and in fact broke a cutting disc off, so we finished with the 4.5 inch hand grinder.


Once through about three quarters of the way, we position jack stands under the old crossmember to catch the weight. Leave these about a notch lower than the crossmember. After a while the old crossmember will bend down, or can be pushed down, to rest safely on the jack stands. This allows you to finish the cut with a hacksaw from the top, which is easier and safer than using a hand grinder from below.


Once  the old junky cross member is removed, it's easier to burn out any old shackle bushings. Use a gas torch to burn out the old rubber, and the inner bushing can then be pushed or pried out.




You then cut through the outer bushing metal with a hacksaw, being careful not to cut into the spring itself. The new crossmember comes with shackle bushings installed, so unless you plan to remove and/or service the spring or diff too, you only need to buy two new ones, but you may need some new bolts and nuts too, and perhaps new shackle irons. (Remember, only the inner shackle iron is threaded.)


You now have a once-in-a-Landy-lifetime opportunity to rust-proof the inside of the frame easily. Here I'm using Fluid Film, popular here in New England where we use a lot of winter salt on the roads, a proprietary Fluid Film air-powered product dispenser, and a long piece of hose which reaches forward all the way past the dumb irons, but you could use Waxoyl or similar.

First, test where you can see to make sure product is coming out in a suitable spray pattern. Start spraying with the hose fully inserted, then withdraw the hose an inch or two at a time. Repeat to be sure of getting enough product in there.


Now turn your attention to the new cross member. Bend the welding tabs out gently with a mallet and test fit it to the old frame. Using trial and error, get the best fit. Reproduce the old measurements above and clamp it in place, then tack weld it.

This is the bit where the old-timers say to fit the tub, and use the tub as the final jig to get the measurements right, but that ignores my objection above, and it requires that you put the tub on and take it off again to weld the top of the new frame extension. This is too much trouble for me, and indeed, my tub isn't square anyway.
  

Instead I relied on careful measurement. I then welded all around each side, and up and down the tab slots. You can easily tighten any gaps between the tabs and the old frame with a hammer once you start welding and get everything nice and hot.


Now, if you're brave, measure again! Mine was within a sixteenth of my target 48 and 3/8 inches, so I was pretty happy with that.


Having reconnected the shackles, my plan now is to spray everything I see except the transmission with POR 15 rust proof paint, and Fluid Film on top of that.

That should last a while. Enjoy.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Done

It was an exhausting semester, but we did finally got done, and a few days of relatively little to do, I find myself ready to write a farm blog post for the first time since lambs were born.

In the end I taught just shy of twenty-four credits, ran a committee to make a new degree, and served as Faculty Moderator. That all took more of my life, especially as the end-of-year deadlines loomed, than would leave time for very much farming, let alone blogging about farming. However, we also kept this place free of snow, of which there was quite a lot, a record year. We lambed seven fine lambs, butchered six roosters, and raised our own starts from seed.

Now I'm suffering from a surfeit of put-off chores and farm projects. When you're that busy, the tendency is to say, "OK, then, we'll do that bit after the end of the semester." But when the end of the semester comes, there can be a lot to do. I need a list just to keep track of my to-do lists.

But we are slowly forcing a system of reason upon all this unreasonableness.

There remains the small problem of getting the garden planted. The weather hasn't helped there, first too wet, the too hot. This weekend, forecast cool but dry, seems like it will be our best shot. The sheep got sheared. The piglets are to be collected today, and the first lambs delivered to their buyers.

But for every step forward, there's a slip back. The tractor is leaking coolant again. A farm truck is in advanced stages of dismemberment while we rebuild its front end after an accident earlier in the year. A dog fox seems to have taken the last hen from the clutch we hatched last year and may have taken others. We saw the culprit skulking around earlier, so we have some certainty who it was. The remainder are at risk. And a bad smell from the crawl space since the weather finally warmed may indicate what happened to Shenzhi cat, who went MIA during the height of the battle this spring. Or it may be some of the missing chickies. I'll have to find out, because the smell is coming up into the kitchen.

So, life is still a little crazy.

That may be all I can write for now. Photographs are a bit beyond my capabilities too. We'll recover, no doubt, after a week or too of working down those lists, and provide more details later in the summer.

In the meantime, it is late spring in Maine, the apple blossoms are out, and our kid can play on green grass. We can be happy, and that is what matters.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Lamb count


Lambing season started March 7th, a Tuesday. Tia gave birth to two healthy lambs around dinner time in the lambing pen. Next up was Ursa, a couple days later, followed quickly by Silvia on Saturday. Still to go is Vera, a newby. Since she will likely have only one, possibly two, we expect seven or eight lambs total, more than doubling our sheep population.

All mommies and lambs are doing well so far.


Edana was present in the barn for Tia's second lamb, which came out very quickly. She just kind of pooped her out, which set Edana to screaming. She thought the sheep had suffered an "owee."

One sheep indeed had suffered an owee, however. While all the fuss was happening over lambs, Garfunkel the ram, who's never been a good eater, decided to go off his feed. On inspection he was found to be anemic, and wormed. He didn't respond well and eventually went into a coma. I put him down yesterday. I was pretty upset to have to do this, since he was a very pleasant fellow, for a ram. More than likely his replacement will be less so. Rams are typically pretty knuckle-headed.


All's well that ends well, though. Here is Edana the day after she was scared of Tia's new lamb, happy again to see the babies.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Paints and stories


Mommy bought home watercolor paints!


What fun!


And we also have some Thomas the Tank Engine books. "Wanna read Thomas Train!"

Sunday, February 19, 2017

And now for something completely different: Mud season

After all that snow, it warmed up pretty much as forecast, a general thaw, and we may be seeing the first beginnings of mud season. Even so, there's still a lot of snow.


Here's our deck, completely full of avalanche debris from the roof that fell today while we were out playing in the yard with Edana. This is very heavy windslab and can't be shoveled very easily, so we'll just let it melt and hope for the best.


Here's a fresh delivery of firewood. I took advantage of the nice clear dooryard and the warm weather. I had the dump truck that delivered it drop it off right in front of the barn doors, and later threw it all into the barn. This was because the regular firewood cribs are five feet deep in snow.


The view through the barn doors, Flame on guard.


Tucking into Amish hay. A very pregnant ewe, one of four we kept last year. We now have twenty-two chickens, thanks to the clutch that hatched later last year.


The beginnings of mud: A general thaw in the dooryard. Edana has been jumping in muddy puddles.


Using the little tractor to bring down the loads of firewood from the barn.


Two inches of meltwater in the back of the workshop. This will eventually flow away, but in the meantime, it's a bit of a pain.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Mopping up, après le déluge


Edana "fixes" the generator with a screwdriver.

It was a very big snowfall in the end, around 25 inches while still light and fluffy, but the strong winds soon knocked it down to a heavy wind slab that was much harder to move.

It was hard to keep equipment going. I got my own Land Rover-powered plow stuck around six or seven times, but was able to winch it out each time after twenty or so minutes work. Luckily we have plenty of handy trees and fence posts around here, for winch anchors.

I got my neighbor's much larger plow truck stuck only once, but once was enough. It took a total of about five hours to free it. We were forced to abandon it in a snowbank Monday night. The Land Rover winch, plus a lot of digging and some great help from my other neighbor, eventually did the job Tuesday morning. I was pretty pleased to see it with four wheels on the road.

If you read the previous posts for this storm (named "Orson"), you'll see that I pretty well knew this would happen, but borrowed the vehicle anyway. The Rover was capable enough to do the job, although some more winching might have been needed, but I wanted to do it faster.

I won't make that mistake again.


By the time everything had all blown over Tuesday, with another storm forecast for Wednesday, I was pretty pleased to be able to hire the services of this machine and driver for some serious snow removal. This is an articulated five-ton loader, a piece of construction equipment. In about thirty minutes work, it moved all our snowbanks back around twenty feet and scraped the driveway down to the roadbed. We will need the space if we get another nor'easter. You need to have somewhere to put all the snow.


A little light plowing later in the week, and then one last clean-up today, including excavating the Camry from its snowy grave, and we are done with snow moving for the time being. The jet stream has lifted north, and we're in some easier weather, and very thankful for it.


Here's the two heroes of the hour. These two machines, plus my neighbor's snowblower, kept moving snow despite the severity of the storm, while other much stronger equipment was defeated. Both are over forty years old.


Here's the Rover tugging the Camry free.


And here's the damage to the Rover's plow, made worse by this storm. The hitch tongue is well bent. It will require a serious repair this summer. My best bet is going to be to dismantle the tongue and cross bar from the rest of the assembly, using the eight nuts and bolts at both ends, and order a new one from the Canadian company that makes the plow. I should probably get a new winch strap while I'm at it.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Easily 24 and not done

We have a couple feet already and about three more hours of snowfall to go until the main part of the storm passes. The power started flickering, so I pulled the genny onto the porch to warm up. It runs on propane and is hard to start when cold.

Silly bugger me, should have done that twenty hours ago, I realize now.

It can stay there until spring!






Here's what look like "varves" of snowfall on the porch window:


While our daughter is happy enough to stay home and play. Mommy found her a new toy at Goodwill, a play castle for just four dollars!
 

12 so far




video

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Eighteen to twenty-four

 (click to enlarge)

That would be the expected inches of snowfall in the next thirty hours in this particular neck of the Maine woods. On top of the eight we got yesterday, the eight we got Thursday, and the ice we had already, things are starting to get a little silly.

The Land Rover plow truck is holding up as well as could be expected, considering that various injuries and illnesses make it the last available plow-truck and driver combo in the Great Farm hamlet. It now plows nearly a mile of road each snowfall, never mind that each stretch has to be done at least twice and often four or six times to make it safe. This truck and the plow it carries were never meant to plow snow for as many miles as it has been doing. It has shed a heavy lateral spring, and the spring pin that sets the plow angle looks ready to pop out, the base that holds it having sheared off. I expect the lateral spring will show up in a snowbank eventually. The spring pin can be replaced with a heavy bolt. I never change the angle anyway.

I've been told I can borrow my neighbor's much heavier truck while he's in the hospital. This is a one-ton, and much better suited for this kind of mileage, but it's also an automatic flatbed and as a result somewhat loose in four wheel mode and light in the rear to boot. The combination of the two characteristics mean that it is easier to get stuck that the Rover is, and if I get my neighbor's truck stuck while he's in the sick bay, there's no-one to help me get it unstuck. The Land Rover at least carries a winch for such things, as well as that awesome Land Rover low range and fully locked wheel hubs all round.

I have had to refuel the Rover, something that has never been necessary before. In past winters, one tank has always been enough. This year I may go through three or four.

In other news, work has of course been back underway for four weeks now, but the number of snow days has made it seem like less. It feels more like the second than fourth week, given how little we've been able to cover in some classes. No doubt we'll catch up eventually.

Our kid has been with us at work a lot because the day care center has had more and longer snow days than the college. Aimee and I trade her off between classes, and she runs around our various offices and other work spaces. She loves to come to work, and is always happy when we tell her she's not going to daycare.

Sooner or later the jet stream will lift north, taking with it the storm track, which currently is right on top of us. Spring won't take long to come after that, although we can expect a heck of a lot of mud when it does come, given all the snow.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Engineering and other girl hobbies

 A woman's place is playing with the Erector Set...

 ...or learning photography.

It's the middle of winter and a slow news day on the farm, thankfully. Elsewhere in the country, millions of women are out to protest the advent of a presidential administration seemingly hostile to them, as well as immigrants and people of color, all told more than two thirds of the people, so we know how this is going to end. You can't alienate that many in a democracy.

We applaud the marcher's actions, and are very happy to see them out there, far more of them in fact than attended the miserably divisive inauguration of said administration.

But we decided to concern ourselves with domestic events instead today.

Not that we had a choice. We have a toddler, and life with a toddler is not conducive to travel and protest, unless it's the kind of protest you get from a toddler.

So we swept the house and did the dishes, did the shopping and went to gymnastics class, bought in the firewood and changed the sheeps' water. While the speakers were speaking, we listened to the feed, but when the marchers were marching, we took a nap.

It's the end of the first week of the semester, and we were so tired from teaching other people's grown offspring on Friday night that it was hard to handle our own child. This may be the disadvantage of the college life, especially at a small friendly college like ours. We put our hearts and souls into our work, and sometimes, if we're not careful, there's not enough left. But we all got a good night's sleep, and today's nap helped.

Monday we'll be back at it.

Freedom depends on teachers. People have to think for themselves if they're to be truly free, and you don't learn to do that without books and ideas and teachers to help you understand them.