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Word Count: 4784. Dated 16-20 February.
She's building herself a little home, using the 1334 skills her father taught her. One room, with a section partitioned off for growing weed hydroponically. Eventually, she may add onto it. I'll add a link with a floor-plan, etc, when I get a chance.
Building speeds based on those I witnessed in buildings raised by Mennonite families in Vermont in 2003 - they raised a HUGE buildings in two weeks, and smaller ones in a matter of a couple or few days. I figured Grace could do it within five days.
Word of the Day:
adamantine,
bandy
16 February
Grace woke up without Taj's assistance that morning. Sleeping in the stable had not been the most comfortable accommodations, and she very much needed to work on plans for her own home. She really preferred to be closer to the stable, since it would be her job every day, and she liked to be closer to Layla, anyhow. It wouldn't be hard to plan, and she wouldn't really need help raising such small walls as these. If she had been building a home like her parents kept, it would be one thing, but she had decided that a modest two-room home would be adequate for her. One room would be used normally, for a table and chairs, and her bed. The second, smaller room would be for growing her cannabis, and storing items that she made, so that they wouldn't be all over her main room. If she could complete the plan before late morning, and start gathering and cutting materials today, then she would be able to begin building, and raise the frame on the morrow. The next day, she would add the rest of the walls and the roof, and she could build furniture and her hydroponics system after that. It shouldn't take her any longer than a week, and if it took that long, she might be ashamed. Gabriel had raised his first home, on the mountain over from their parents' home, in less than four days! Then again, he had had help, too. She would do this on her own, with the help of her horses, and it would belong to her truly.
She sent Taj to scout for good materials in the surrounding forest areas, and pulled out her leather-bound journal and a packet of plans. She would base her home on a plan that her father had devised before she had left; it was set up for her and Briar, with bedrooms, but she wouldn't need a bedroom when she was living alone. If she just neglected the bedrooms, it would make it smaller and more reasonable for her life. And if Briar ever returned, they could always add the bedrooms on later. She sketched out dimensions and did figures for the better part of the morning. She had her plans refined when Taj returned, and she rolled up a couple of sheaths of paper and tied them with a leather strap. Then she put the rest of the items back into the saddle bag she had traveled with and set off to find materials. She would need the best wood that she could find to build with, so that her home would be durable. She could cut them with her hand-saw, and then she would assemble them using the metal pegs and mallet that her father had given her for building. He really had thought of everything for her and Briar, for which she was glad - she probably would not have been nearly as prepared, if her father hadn't cared about her so.
The late morning turned to afternoon, which in turn became evening. She used her new horses to pull carts full of wood, and stacked all of the pieces in a spare stable where her saddle bag - and for now, her bed - were kept. She fell asleep late that night, and the scent of freshly cut wood soothed her, reminding her of home, wherein she had always been exposed to fresh wood scent. She dreamt of her father: carving, crafting, inventing, teaching, full of that adamantine determination of his, and knew that he was looking out for her always, even if he was miles away.
17 February
The second day of building was always the hardest. Scrapes and bruises from yesterday made for stiffness and a slow start. To rival that, she took a quick run with Layla, stretching out her sore muscles. It wouldn't do for her to be sore while she was trying to build; there was too much lifting to be done. She rubbed the horse down and fed all of them. That taken care of, she turned her attention to the day's tasks. Assembling the walls on the ground took time, with Grace making sure that each piece was secured in place properly. Her father had taught her how to check for errors that she never even would have thought of, and she used his written list every time. She was just too absent-minded to try to remember everything; she knew her weaknesses, and being meticulous was one of them. She was far too interested in how pretty or interesting her work looked to remember to check it for square. But it was important, her father had said, so she did it. Things went wrong when she didn't heed her father's warnings.
"Just in case," she told Taj cheerfully. The crow seemed agreeable to this - he was often looking at her plans and the objects that came from following them, and he seemed to be learning how things worked. He couldn't read, of course - especially not Russian! - but he seemed quite bright, and she thought she might test his memory sometime, see how much he could really understand. Wouldn't it be simply marvelous if he really could understand much of their world, and their life together? What a splendid, unique pair they made! She hadn't met another wolf with a crow for a friend before.
She spent quite some time digging four deep holes for corner posts. They had to be deep holes, so that the posts wouldn't be moved, even by heavy rains, which could saturate the ground with water and cause her house to wash out. She then positioned additional, smaller posts at intervals between the corner posts. Once the wooden posts were in the ground, she secured them there with concrete that she had acquired from a merchant. Adding the dirt back wasn't enough, her father had said. Just because the ground can keep itself from getting washed out when packed with itself, the displacement caused by the posts would creates structural problems. Once the posts were secured, she needed to add the wall frame, which she would then cover with slimmer pieces of finished wood.
Layla and the new stallion helped haul pieces around, and a simple pulley system let her hook them up to ropes to raise the wall pieces. By balancing the load between two pulleys, the horses were much more able to help, and Taj led them forward, luring them with oat and sugar balls on ropes, when Grace called, "Go!" When she called, "Stop!", Taj held his position, as did the horses. Grace secured the piece in question with strong metal pegs, then called, "Give!" to tell Taj to give them the oats. They did this all morning and part of the afternoon before it was time for a break. The horses were rubbed down lightly and given food and water, and Grace took a few minutes to capture a rabbit, and to take a few puffs from her pipe. The relaxation was good for building - kept her from getting too frustrated with the more tedious tasks. If there was anything that Grace couldn't tolerate, it was boredom. If it wasn't exciting, it was harder to do, and that was just a shame. Why should anything be harder than absolutely necessary?
Refreshed, she climbed up onto the walls to begin work on the roof. She placed planks across the beams to help support her weight, and set to work on the roof. Taj sat and held a bag of metal pegs while she framed the roof. She was just doing a simple, slightly arched roof. Enough to keep water or snow from sitting on it and putting weight on it, anyway. Her father had studied the architecture of the buildings at Smuggler's Notch to learn how they had built them, because Vermont got a lot of snow, and they needed to keep it from damaging the buildings. Her father's plans has utilized the same type of architecture, which would come in handy this far north. It was just past dark when she finally finished, and she was relieved to get down from the roof and go into the stable for the night to sleep.
18 February
Day three was a relief; the worst part was already over. She had to put up the walls and roof, of course, but that was done piece by piece: time consuming, but not difficult. She wouldn't need help lifting them, so the horses got the day off. She stopped by the stable to say hello, and give them some food to eat. They seemed pleased to get some time to rest, given the activity that they had all been through: she and Layla had only arrived a few days ago, really, and the stallion's living conditions with that yellow dog had been ridiculous. What had she even been thinking, keeping horses when she didn't know the first thing about them? She was glad that she had gotten them, anyway. They would serve the pack well, and be cared for well in turn. She would be sure of that much.
She already had the base pieces of wood collected. They just needed to be cut to size and finished. She spent the entire morning working on this task, but not before taking a couple of hits of her pipe. A task this tedious needed to be accompanied by something to make it more interesting, and cannabis would do the trick just fine. Once she was comfortably buzzing, she set to work finishing the wood pieces. First, she used the tool that her father gave her to quickly and carefully chisel out grooves in the sides of the thick wood pieces. Those grooves would allow the wood pieces to fit together with tough adhesive, protecting more effectively against weather. She didn't want her home to leak.
Then she finished the sides with the sanding blocks that her father had made of some sort of strong adhesive, wooden blocks, and sharp sand particles, and she applied a light, red-toned stain and protectant, another of her father's many experiments. Her mother had despised the reddish hue that he gave to wood, but Grace adored it, and she had taken it with her when she left. Both the indoor and outdoor walls were built first with vertical, locking pieces, spaced at different intervals to ensure less leakage. She added wool insulation between these walls, to (hopefully) ward out the cold during the winter, and added layered wooden siding to the outer wall horizontally, to help protect against moisture and wind. Her father had explained all of the ways the a structure could become compromised by weather, but as much as Grace loved her father, she sometimes tuned out a little of his speeches. He just became very long-winded, very easily. She did try to pay attention, though, and her father understood that, if he really wanted her to remember something, he needed to tell her so.
The usual afternoon break allowed Grace to stop again to smoke briefly, and eat a little. Building always made her hungrier, and growing up, they had eaten less and more often. It was one of the side effects of living in an area with a large amount of prey; they never worried that they wouldn't eat. After eating, she added the floor, beams built from wall to wall, held slightly above the ground by the poles. Sanded, stained, interlocking boards went down as a sturdy floor, and a trap-door was added, to be covered by a rug, that would allow her to escape her home in an emergency by jumping down into the trap-door and slipping out from under the house. That had been advice given to her by her mother, who was afraid that Grace, going into a big, mean world, might make herself a target to robbery or violence - by being too nice. Grace wasn't sure why anyone would be mean to her because she was too nice, but her mother was silly and super paranoid about those sorts of things.
Last, but certainly not the least of all, she put up the roof with horizontal boards, interlocking like the walls had been. She also built in the structure for the sky-lights - one into the main room, and one into the storage room, in which she would also grow cannabis hydroponically. Those, she had purchased reclaimed plexiglas for, and she installed it before finishing the roof. Tomorrow, she would work on furniture and a bigger mattress, but for tonight, she could pull her mattress pad inside and enjoy her new home for the first night. It smelled strongly of freshly-cut wood, like being home again. Her father had always smelled of fresh wood, from carving or building. Before she could sleep, she had to build her Totem of Self. She spent the late evening carving a figure of herself, in meditation pose, out of pine. When she finished carving the basic form, she chiseled out the eyes, and used the adhesive to secure small, polished, turquoise stones into the eye sockets. Perfect. A tiny Grace totem. With her Totem on the floor nearby, she snuggled up in her blankets and pelts and slept in her brand-new home.
19 February
Waking up in her new home was an incredible experience. At last! A place that she had built on her own, and that belonged solely to her. While Gabriel had moved to his own home when he had hit puberty, she had stayed with her parents, as a female is supposed to. Well, until she left with Briar, anyway. Her mother hadn't approved of that, but her father had overruled her, insisting that it would be good for the girls to travel and experience things, just as they had wanted to as kids. As Grace woke up and stretched, she thought briefly of Briar, of where she might be, and what she might be doing. Hopefully, she was happy, just as Grace was happy in AniWaya, with her job as an animal carer, and her freedom to come and go as she pleased. She turned to Taj as she was dressing, smiling faintly. "You know, I think that you would like Briar, Taj." The crow cawed amicably, perhaps in agreement. He had never met Briar before - Grace had found him after they had parted ways.
As she made her way down to the stable to care for the horses, she smiled a secret to herself. Perhaps, someday, Briar would find her way here. Wouldn't that be something?
Until then, there were other things to do, and one of them was her priority today: furniture. She wanted to build a simple futon frame, like the ones they slept on at home, built by her father. The idea was to be able to make your bed into a seat during the day, which Grace liked for sitting on and day-dreaming. It also saved space in small rooms, which was definitely a must. She would create a small bedside stand with a couple of shelves to sit beside the futon, and she could keep her jewelry box - made of wood, with turquoise stone inlays, by her father, as was the case with many of her belongings, a subject of her mothers lectures often - and her day-book, which was bound in leather, but somewhat tattered and oft-repaired, with how often she used it. It'd be nice to put a candle on that side table, too, for night time. That way, she could write or read at night, or even just smoke her pipe by candle light. Speaking of, smoking would probably help her think of ideas for her new home. She took a few puffs as she considered items for her new home. What would she need? What might she want? There were so many possibilities.
She also thought that she might like to build a few simple crates for clothing. She didn't have an endless supply of clothing, but often made new things, and didn't care for tedious tasks such as folding her clothing. It worked just as well to keep them in a crate, and rummage through until something caught her eye to wear. She thought that it would probably be prudent to build a few crates for craft projects to be stored in until they were sold, since she was planning on still crafting, even if more of her time would be spent on horse training now. But the crates wouldn't be hard at all, just time-consuming. She thought to build those first, get them out of the way, so she hooked Layla and the new stallion, to whom she was building a certain attachment, to the carts, and they went out to gather wood for today's projects. It was a fairly quick run, since Grace already knew where the best wood could be found. It was just a matter of getting there, loading up, and getting back. Oh, and looking at nature, on the way. Grace couldn't help herself. It just sort of happened. One minute, she was paying attention, and then poof! Something caught her eye, and she just had to pursue. Her father had admired that quality in her.
When she returned, she rubbed the horses down, as per usually. Following that, she built the crates as quickly as she could manage, wanting to get them out of the way. She had five sturdy, wooden crates by mid-morning, and she organized her belongings into them. The three filled with crafts went into the storage room, pushed against a wall. She would build shelves just above their height, and put the hydroponics system in, probably tomorrow. Looking at her leftover materials, she already had enough to build her bedside stand, and so she pieced that together with wooden pegs and a couple of metal pegs, and set it in the alcove created by the storage room. By the time she was finished, she was ready for her break, and a rabbit had never tasted quite so sweet as sitting on her new floor, eating it fresh and warm.
After that, she started working on the futon parts: a wooden hinge mechanism, and a stopper leg to keep it upright when she wanted it as a seat. Building that frame was the hardest thing she did all day, and it took her until late afternoon to get it all put together. She figured that the sun would be setting very soon, and rummaged in her things for a candle and a candle holder. She lit the candle just as the sun was setting, and it cast warm light around the room, making everything feel very soft and homey.
Ready for something easy, she sat against a wall and stuffed down and wool from a bag into her large mattress bag to re-make her mattress from home. It was a somewhat rounded, giant pillow that her people used as mattresses, and hers happened to be teal, purple and blue tie-dye, a method that her mother was skilled in. It was beautiful, and somehow, it still smelled of home. Once it was filled and tightly laced closed, she braced herself for one more big effort. Putting the last of her strength into the task, she lifted the mattress onto the futon frame, then adjusted it so that it was just soft and cushioned enough to be cozy.
She threw her pillows, which had been stuffed when she had purchased the down and wool, and her blankets and pelts onto the mattress. Her body followed these items, and she stripped her clothing off and tossed it on the floor, beside the bed. She would pick it up later. She blew out the candle that she had lit and snuggled up in her new bed. From her bedside stand, her tiny totem meditated atop her leather day-book, representing the peace that she had within her home and within her self.
20 February
Her first night sleeping on her own mattress again was phenomenal. She woke up to Taj cawing, fairly quietly, to rouse her from her restful slumber. She yawned softly and stretched, the dragged herself up out of bed and dressed. Taj's cawing reminded her to pick her clothing up of the the floor, groaning - living with this bird was almost as bad as living with her mother, sometimes! Smiling to herself, she shook her head. There was no sense in being negative about who or what someone was. They couldn't help but follow their own natures. She walked to the stable and fed the horses with a jump in her step; by the end of the day, she would have her home all set up. She was alight with excitement.
She, Layla, and the stallion went out to gather the wood that she would need for today. She had a book case to construct, to house the books, folders, and scrolls given to her by her father before she left. She could put decorations there, too - some of her little carvings and similar, from her time on the road. And she would also want to build a table with a few chairs, so that she could have company over, if she were so inclined. Besides that, she really only needed a coat rack for beside the door; she had a couple of nice coats that she wore out, and she liked to be able to hang them up, rather than keeping them in with her other clothing. The hooks for that would be made of scrap wood from other projects, since she still had a few decently sized pieces left over. She gathered her wood and loaded it up, then walked along side her equine companions, to spare them her weight while they were pulling carts.
As any responsible horse owner does, she cared for her horses as soon as they returned. It had been a long few days for them, working with her every day, but Layla was a persistant, loyal horse, and the stallion was hardy and strong. Their bandy between the woods and home had been tiring, but they were rewarded in kind for their work - Grace would never think to take advantage of anyone, even a creature such as a horse, regarded by many canines as being inferior. Prey animals, yes, but they were also friends and companions, and quite good ones, when treated with kindness and respect. She thanked both of them profusely before she went to complete her home. "I really appreciate everything, both of you." She turned to her mare first, and hugged her around the neck. "You're the best friend I could ask for. I owe you more carrots and apples than you'll know what to do with, this summer. Just you wait and see!" Layla neighed her agreement, seemingly recognizing the words that meant delicious food, and Grace chuckled. Then she turned to the stallion, who did not yet have a name. "And you, sir, have proven quite a big help as well! I think I might just keep you on as my second horse. We'll see about that tomorrow, won't we?" She stroked his nose, and he lipped her sleeve gently, then turned toward Layla. She snorted and turned away, then glanced back at the stallion curiously. "Aw, young love," Grace commented amusedly, and let them into their stalls before returning to the carts to build the last of her furniture.
She spent the morning constructing her table and chairs. They were simple, not nearly the decorative, ornate designs that her father could create. The table-top was a square of wood with planks laid across it and fastened in, and she squared off some smaller poles, like the ones that she had used to support her home, albeit much smaller. The legs of the table were put into each corner of the table-top's square frame, and fastened with metal pegs. Then she added supports, to ensure that the legs would stay steady. It was tedious work, but the chairs would be worse, since they would often hold much more weight than the table itself. She built sturdy stools first, supporting the legs with braces. She then added two poles to the back corners, and braced them with slats of wood. To finish each chair, she slipped a fur covering over the back, and a small pillow was placed on each seat. She set her creation up in the second alcove created by the storage room, apart from her sleeping area. Atop the table, she draped a woven, dyed table cloth, and a brass candelabrum with three candles was placed at the center of the table.
To finish her entertainment area, she pulled out a few cylinders and emptied the contents onto the table: parchment scrolls with wooden dowel ends, and a strap of leather attached to each end of the top dowel. She unrolled them to reveal a couple of paintings by her brother, Gabriel - he was a skilled artist, and had painted her a few scrolls, to bring with her. Art had been important to her family; each member could craft something. When she had left, her younger siblings had just started spending time with her parents while they crafted. She was sad that she had not been able to stay and help teach them; Luka, in particular, could have benefited from her teaching. She pounded metal pegs into the walls, from which to hang the scrolls, and hung them up. There. Now this area felt more like home, just as her sleeping area did. Only a couple more things, and this little building would feel just like home, and she could settle in properly.
She took a few minutes again for lunch, and Taj rejoined her after his morning out. She wasn't entirely clear on where he went, but he was free to come and go as he pleased. She had never restrained him, not even when his wing was healing. She had just told him, if he overdid it, he wouldn't be able to fly for even longer. He seemed to get her drift, and they had an understanding - if he did something that was ill-advised, she'd care for him, but she'd not feel too sorry for him. He hadn't gotten himself into much trouble, really. Chased by some vultures for god-knows-what once, but they'd gotten a whiff of Grace and taken off. Taj seemed pleased with whatever he'd done, and landed on Grace's head as she chewed on a skinned rabbit, pelt soaking in a bucket of cold water beside her. She waved amiably and licked her fingers, then offered him the remainder of the carcass. He went to town, and she went back to work.
The book case came first - she really needed that storage, and she wanted her books and papers up off of the floor. It was fairly straight-forward work, and she hummed a tune as she finished the wood pieces, and assembled the shelves with wooden pegs. Once it was all put together, she went over it one last time with the sanding block, and added a coat of stain. She would have to let it set - she could make the coat rack in the meantime, and then tonight, she could put her books and scrolls onto the shelves. She placed the book case in its approximate new home, slightly away from the wall, to avoid sticking it there with wood stain. Then she turned her attention to one final task - a coat rack.
She was smart to have saved the smallest project for last, because after days of hard work and focus, her mind was everywhere. She puffed on her pipe as she sat and sanded the pieces just right. Each hook was actually just a slightly curved branch, bark removed and sanded down, and then stuck into a chiseled hole in the stand. It took very little time to assemble, once she'd finished the sanding, but she took her time, enjoying a slight high and the accompanying relaxation. She finished just as the sun was setting, and hung her coats on it. Finally, she checked the stain: dry, wonderful! She arranged all of her papers on the shelves, some to this side and some to that, to keep the balance aesthetically pleasing. In the empty spaces, she arranged a few carvings that she had done on the road, and a few things done by loved ones. Finally, on the top shelf, in the centre, she placed her Totem of Self. Now, she really was home.