The footer is still there in the pit, surrounded by water which the MB forces out with a small boat pump. The footer is alive and well. We have a footprint. I start shovelling out shale to bring up the level of the area which is now identified as our crawl space. Then the MB starts to wonder out loud how we'll make the forms! We have 8 inch spacers but we need some flat metal to stop them from popping out when the concrete is poured. So, to Port Hawkesbury for supplies and, in truth, a bit of a break after the footer pouring.
I have the trailer in tow as we chug into an almost deserted industrial yard where we find a company called Raw Steel which seems to consist of two men eating Timbits and drinking coffee. We wander through the deserted spaces which all look like abandoned premises past old bits of equipment which the MB eyes longingly. He would love to live in an area like this, a huge open space full of eerie old industrial buildings. And, hold on, is that possibly a tank we could scoop up for holding rainwater? Who the hell would you ask? There is no one here. And I'm sure the metal we gave a few bucks for was just orphaned in the yard... Port Hawkesbury has the feel of a place where the industrial economy was...
When people tell you that shovelling shale is a pleasurable activity, don't believe them. It's just work...
When people tell you that shovelling shale is a pleasurable activity, don't believe them. It's just work...
Meanwhile the three sisters reassemble and the conversation flows with the white wine as we eat delicious food prepared by DC, head chef.
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