This morning we painted one side and edges of the 2/ 2″x12″/ 12′ arches, cut and painted the 5/ 2×4 /29 inch interior braces, and have found room enough to paint 3 of the decking boards that will be sawed up into deck for the bridge. This afternoon we’ll flip the boards and paint the other side 2 coats. Then we’ll paint more decking boards—there’s quite a stack—and tomorrow level the bridge footing and make sure it fits, then screw together the 2 arch pieces, mating them parallel with each other, held apart by 2 of the 2×4 bracing boards at either end, then one in the middle.
That’s going to weigh plenty. Once we haul that into place, which may involve assembly on pondside, we’re going to probably attach and hand-saw the decking planks after they’re screwed to the arches, sitting on our previous work as we deck our way across the bridge. We haven’t room to paint every decking board at once. But we’ll get there. We’re going to take some pix as we go, because this is going to be quite the bridge.
We priced a 12 foot bridge of this sort when we started. It came in at about 2000.00. We’re getting out of it for the price of the lumber and the paint—and OSG and OSGuy’s invaluable help, which they’ve given us. Basically, this is what we did:
The main arches: two twelve foot 2″x12″ fir boards. Mark the high point of the arch at center and run a curve to the board ends plus 2″, ie, a curve ending at the 10th inch of width. Then mirror-image this to the other side. Give yourself a foot and a half ‘footing’ space, flat, for the bridge to set on. Shoot a mark 5″ down from the top of the board center. Run that in a curve to the inside of the footing. Mirror same.
You then have a 5″ thick 12 foot arch. Cut two of these. And let me tell you, OSGuy using raw strength and a bandsaw to cut the pair of these boards, and OSG holding the free end of these very heavy boards during that operation—priceless.
Everything else is little boards in 30″ or so lengths, but those two timbers are the biggie. That’s why bridges cost so much. Finding an OSGuy and an OSG is next to impossible.
I don’t think you could bribe them to do it twice.
Sounds like fun. This tool belt diva wishes she was there to help. Looking forward to the pix.
I like hearing about your bridge-making successes. After that horrible disaster in Joplin, we need something triumphant.
I went out later and painted 8 more of the 95″ long decking boards, which will be divided in thirds when applied—we have one more, but I had nowhere to put it to dry: most are stuck through a pair of ladders.
Eushu turned up with an owie, is limping, and we don’t know why. He’s been jumping much too adventurously. We’re naturally hovering like two doting parents.
Jane has been poked full of holes and donated big samples of blood. We hope to have results tomorrow.
For the record: 1) Jane was only poked once, and 2) only donated 2 vials of blood. She didn’t cry, and deserves a sucker for being a good patient.
I think rewards all around have been earned: For everyone’s hard work, for the good patient’s excellent behavior and for Eushu’s owie! I hope he is back to his bouncy little self tomorrow.
Sounds like a 4-person job to me. Don’t take any chances. Can’t wait to see it!
Two persons is all we got. Howsomever, we gots determination and a plan. We’ll get it.
Eushu’s owie seems to be a sprained paw and shoulder: he’s gotten a claw hung somewhere when we were outside painting, and he’s very ouchy, won’t touch that paw to the ground. We have some icepacks that come in sheets of little waterfilled cells, and one frozen cell is about right for icing the injury. He’s accepting the treatment quite nicely at breakfast.
Speaking of leaping cats — Zaphod decided to leap three feet from the desk to my shoulder yesterday. He ALMOST made it. When he didn’t quite, he dug in with all claws. I have scratches across my back, shoulder and arm. Last night I could hardly type because the arm was so sore. Zaphod is not a small cat. I’m better today though.
Wind still isn’t home. He’s supposed to be this afternoon, though, probably within the hour.
Your bridge sounds great! I always wanted a pond, but after reading about all the work you guys have to put into it, I think I would rather just write. Not much of a get out in the yard person, I fear.
Make certain you paint the sawn ends of the already painted boards too, or rot can enter through those unprotected surfaces.
Oh my, my two are all excited because there are *birds* around lately, and they, alas, cannot get to them.
I doubt either would know what to do with one if he caught one. Smokey would probably figure it out. Goober would probably want an executive chef on staff. My grandmother’s cat, though, is a hunting menace. Whatever’s around is fair game, in any sense of “game.”
I hope little Eushu is doing much better today. The little guy’s a charmer. At least he was trying something when he got his, uh, owie. Better have him sit boards or swab decks or clean the air filters. He’ll have to earn that first voyage ring somehow, crew-boy.
As to the alleged much punctured, much donated Author Lady in question, well, didn’t she know nurses and doctors are part vampire? Or…or something. (Hey, why are you looking at me like that, OSG? Golly, what big eyes you have….)
The bridge sounds great. I was trying to reach for a bad pun with pont-ificating or something, but was having trouble spanning the gap. (Oh. Owie.)
LOL, Smokey is careening around, hamming it up, wanting to play, and no takers. Okay, kid, did you two hide all your toys from each other? Can’t get the human to play or the other cat either? Pity, isn’t it?
Gods, good thing it doesn’t occur to him to go play tag with the kif. Though he might give ’em a run for their money. ( 😀 ) On the other hand, I think the mahen would be better sports about it. On the third hand (*what* third hand?) he could get practical hunting and evading experience outsmarting the kif. Except they play rough. For keeps. (Okay, not so funny, eh, crew-man?)
Huh.
(This sidestep into the Chanur universe brought about by enthusiasm, lack of sleep, and avoidance of anything else….)
Happily, Eushu is nearly fully recovered.
Wind is home! Yay!
Yay! for Wind’s safe homecoming. Monsieur Napoleon Bonaparte has taken to eating about 2/3 of his kibble, then laying down a couple of yards from the food dish and watching the ensuing Bird TV. The birds in our area are too dumb or too acclimated to worry about the cat watching them.
Glad for Wind’s safe return to the domicile.
I think bridges are among man’s greatest creations. Big small, doesn’t matter. I grew up in San Francisco, still live in the Bay Area-went over the Richmond-San Rafael bridge today-but the bridge I remember most is a high arched wooden bridge in the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. When I was a kid I loved climbing that thing.
Arthur Clark once wrote a story about a a handless race that hopped on a single hoof where the invention of the bridge was a big element. I don’t remember the title.
Phil Brown
Re: bridges are among man’s greatest creations
Look up the literal meaning of pontifex and compare with its usual meaning.
Mockingbirds are stupid-brave when defending their nest. When we had mockingbirds nesting in out backyard, the birds and our cat, Stoney, used to have staring contests. Stoney would making chirping ‘hunting’ sounds. The birds were usually silent; although, a mocker can mimic any sound.
I think it was Lee Martindale who told the story about getting calls in the middle of the night and no one on the phone. Getting very annoyed. Finally realized it was the mockingbirds in the yard.
We had to change our home phone’s ringtone when the mynahs started imitating it well enough we were hopping for the phone every few minutes!
ROFLOL yeah, we used to have sheep when I was a kid, and every now and then we’d end up out on the railroad tracks chasing down a lost lamb… until it turned into a telephone. Flipping mockingbirds!
This yahoo up the street has a new sports car. He puts a cover over it when he parks it to keep the bird poop off it since he has no garage or carport. (I can see his point. There are a lot of paper mulberry trees on our block which are not supposed to fruit, but they do. The grackles eat the fruit, and then poop purple all over everywhere!) The feral cats seem to think it’s great fun to jump on his car and make the alarm go off at all hours of the night. Now the durn mocking birds have started imitating the car alarm. . .
Lol!
Once upon a weird weekend, Diane Duane visited my place. I lived solo, on a corner with a lot of trees and a streetlight—and it was mockingbird mating season.
Diane and I watched anime and drank aquavit, which we had in the freezer, and the bird started singing. I cursed it and threatened its life.
“You wouldn’t hurt that poor little bird!” quoth Diane. “It’s a pretty song.”
Shift to 3am, both of us considerably through the bottle of aquavit, and that damned bird getting louder and louder—til the point Diane yells, “Damn that bird!” and we take out to drive him off that pole.
Shift to scene, two otherwise well-bred thirtyish writerly ladies in long nightgowns in the curved driveway, flinging rock after rock at this mockingbird, none accurate (ref. the aquavit) until we are quite out of rocks, and the mockingbird sings on…and on…and on, into the dawn.
We had a mockingbird come down our two-story chimney – it would sit up on top singing – and got it out by closing the drapes and opening the front door. I think the bird bounced off the ceiling once on the way out, but it was probably a little disoriented at the time. (I believe that was in a rare period when we were catless.)
Quoth the Mockingbird, “How’d I get in this dang story, and where’s that Scout kid or that depressed poet and malicious Raven?”
Okay, I need to work on my comedic effect….