Life in Lynch Lair at Wildcat Station

[Greg]

Monday is potentially a refrigerator delivery day. I offer no guarantees after talking to my realtor's boss. He inspired little confidence in me.

[Greg]

The Yard Fence

We know we needed a place for the dogs to run and poop when we bought the house. We also knew we needed a place for our Free Range Feral cats to hide out. The plan was to fence in an area in the back yard and build a nice shed there.

Don't get me wrong. I constantly second guess myself about putting up a fence to block my view of the surrounding countryside. It becomes even more confusing when you know that as I write this Maeve is sitting out in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Not a barrier to her in site for miles. She rests there after the morning walk.

I'm old. I don't want to dig post holes for the fences. There is one guy in the are that specializes in fences. I hired him. He's going to charge me $55 a hole to set my fence posts. I'm going to follow him with putting in the rails and boards and the lattice. He's also setting my posts for the pergola that will sit in the center of the garden/dog run.

(Loose Dog Update: Just met Maeve at the front door. She decided it was time to come in)

Justin is my post hole digger. He's also a member of the Mewok Indian tribe. He's also not very good at responding to emails. Which if the rumors are accurate, that is not particular to him. It's a trait to the whole mountain region. They refer to it as mountain time.

I finally locked him into to coming on Saturday. The delay was okay because I spent the week tearing down a shed that was in the backyard and looked horrible. I met a lot of interesting creatures removing it, including plagues of frogs and spiders. Originally, one of the locals was just going to move it for me. We set a date for him to come and I never heard from him again.

Justin was to show up at 8:30. I got the email at 9 that he was running behind and would be here at ten. He showed up 11. Oddly one of his crew showed up 9 and then left.

Being on time is one of my pet peeves. My father drilled punctuality into me and it stuck. I hate being late. So, the fact that I'm dealing with the mountain time people is probably going to give me an aneurism.

I let it go once they got to work. I had already done the layout for the post holes should go. All they had to do was dig. Justin brought his father Buzz, his brother, and a neighbor Ryan. I figured they were going to bust this out and be done that day.

My post hole diggers had concerns. They feared that the gas and water lines were running right were they were going to dig the holes. Rather than use the motor driven post hole digger, they dug a couple of the holes by hand so they could stop if they felt the line. There was a lot of discussion of why they didn't find the lines because it should have been a straight line from the propane tank behind the house to the inlet valve on the house.

It was an ugly hot day to be digging in the yard. Buzz, Justin's father, told me Raymond is so hot and dry during the summer even the squirrels carry water canteens. But they persevered until late in the day. They were going to have to come back the next day because some of the holes were in ground so hard they had let them soak over night. The crew also diminished during the day. The brother went home with a pulled back. The neighbor had to attend a dinner for the Wild Turkey association in Oakhurst. I'm still unsure whether it was for the fowl or the drink.

Justin and Buzz showed up at around 10 to finish the post holes. I hid in the house because every time I would go into the yard, Buzz would launch into a conversation with me and work would grind to a halt. They were great stories. His grandfather Archie Leonard was one of the first two civilian rangers in Yosemite Park. He showed Rosevelt around Yosemite when he visited. You don't hear much about him because he had the temerity to marry an Indian Woman. This would be Buzz's grandmother. She owned 240 acres in a valley called Hetch Hetchey. The government decided an Indian woman didn't have the right to own land and took it from here.

I'm sitting on the couch when the phone rings (Getting the phones to work will be another chapter) Justin is calling from outside. He needs me out there because there is a situation. Sure. Fine. I grab my shoes and head out.

Justin and Buzz stand mournfully above one of the post holes. It seems they have found the gas line with their machine driven auger. They have nicked the line. They have shut off the gas at the house and the tank. The post hole digging will no longer be done today. Congratulations to me because this is the first gas line they have ever cut. 

They spend the next couple of hours gingerly digging around the broken pipe so they can better see how best to repair it. They head off to find people to help them solve the problem. FYI: Sunday is not a great day to find specialized plumbers to help repair a gas line, mountain time or not.

They return later in the day. They have talked to one of their plumber friends. They are told the part they need to seal the line is available an hour away in Fresno. Well and an hour and a day since that plumbing supplier doesn't open until Monday.

No gas line means no hot water. No hot water means no showers or dish washing until Monday. That is if they fix the line on Monday.

[Drunk Monk]

 He's also a member of the Mewok Indian tribe. 

One of my earliest Kung Fu brothers in Lam Kwoon was Miwok. He was my introduction to real native American culture.  Ironically though, he had dyed his hair blonde which made him look a little like a young David Lee Roth.  I can't remember his name but he was cool.  Lost track of him decades ago.  Miwok is a major Northern CA tribe so I daresay you'll encounter a lot of them in your new hood.  There's this idea that Lucas got the name Ewok from Miwok, but in interview he has confessed the obvious - Ewok is Wookie spelled sideways.  He originally wanted to do a big Wookie finale battle instead but it was logistically impossible at that time so he came back for it in Ep 3.  But by then, we really didn't care.

[Greg]

While I was working outside today, I had my iPhone playing music through a Bluetooth speaker. Abruptly it stopped working. A message on the iPhone screen said it was too hot for it to work.

I told Cindi about it.

She said," Maybe that should tell you something "

I replied," Yeah, my iPhone is a pussy"

Actual words used rather than the sanitized Facebook version.

[Drunk Monk]

Lol iPussy! 

Coincidentally I went to the Apple store in Cupertino today. I forgot my iPhone charger at the bungalow and me without my iPhone is like Ultraman after he’s been under the earth sun too long. So I thought I’d check it out. I was savagely overcharged for that charger. Feckin iPussy.

[Greg]

I am a Fencer!

[Drunk Monk]

I am a Fencer!

Show us ya knickers!

[Greg]

Who knew that moving dozens of 60lb bags of concrete would be so difficult? Not to mention mixing and pouring them.

I apologize to all the people I disregarded as mere mud men over the years. My next post might be from the emergency room.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

So, regarding mud men, you suddenly have feet of clay?

[Greg]

My admiration for them is rock solid

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

You don't take them for granite? I have no quarry with that.

[Greg]

It's sedimentary, My dear Watson. They don't make gravel.

[Greg]

I have achieved maximum fatigue. But not nearly as tired as I was yesterday. But the shed pad is poured. It looks like crap. But it is square and it is level. And I'm going to hide my poor concrete skills by putting a garden shed over it. I don't have to pour another pad until Thursday.

[Drunk Monk]

Prolly better than any of the reg of us could do.

Laying concrete? At our age? Oh hell no. I’d hire someone.

[Greg]

That's because you have a functioning brain.

I actually have been trying to get a concrete contractor out to Lynch Lair. He keeps not making his appointments.