The Fifth Element
The earth spirits are appeased.
My parents, affected by my phrase “heedless logger,” donated their live Christmas tree from last season. It is now on The Land, awaiting proper interment.
The air spirits are appeased.
8:45 a.m. found me cruising the auto repair shops of Buxton, ME, all both of them, and finding “Mike” at Buxton Auto who agreed to switch out the snow tires on the Caravan for its street tires while I waited. He was soft-spoken and very efficient, and at 9:45 I was on my way to Troy.
Mike liked the snow tires, by the way. Even though they’re “cheap,” he said, they are really, really good on snow.
The water spirits are appeased.
Arriving at The Land, I saw that Allan The Plumber had fulfilled his promise: a functioning sillcock. Which also meant:
… a new expansion tank inside, connected to a functioning well and pump. He’d done really nice work, including setting the tank up on a good high platform (in anticipation of our eventually pouring a concrete floor) and running out a main line (currently plugged) to feed the water heater and the rest of the household appliances, when we get them.
The electrical wires are still a bit ahoo, as they have not been neatened up by the electrician yet.
Allan came over, showed me all the controls and functions, and I paid him.
The fire spirits are appeased — see previous post on the new propane furnace.
That leaves the fifth element. I didn’t get any more digging done on the septic tank or leach field today. I think the fifth element is poo, though I am still holding out for Milla Jovovich.
In other news: I got the snow tires and the van’s removable seats stowed in the basement.
Well-wrapped in plastic:
And the back of the van is ready for hauling duty:
Also, in another sign from the water spirits, I saw Gloria’s salamander in the cistern with my own eyes.
All-in-all, a bunch of driving and not much new accomplished, but somehow steadily closer to being able to hook up the camper. That’s my focus, while real work like pulling vinyl siding and removing plywood sheathing seems to want to wait until it can command my undivided attention, uninterrupted by the commute.