This new used truck has a bed about big enough to carry the former one in, and I’m kind of luxuriating in its roominess. My previous work trucks for the past 18 years were an ’88 Jeep Comanche and a ’99 Ford Ranger. The cab of this ’97 is about as big as the lobby of Detroit’s Fox Theater, and its bed is about the size of a football field. All right, slight exaggeration. I own a great big truck all of a sudden.

It has 14,000 fewer miles on it than the Ranger, and everything works on the thing, including the fuel gauge … the wipers, the muffler, the interior lights, the dashboard lights, etc., etc. Work motoring life is suddenly good again, for only $2,500. 

The fieldstone arch has just been formed here for a fireplace enclosure—for a ventless LP firebox (foreground). Behind the facing arch stones are two rows of others. Once the mortar had set, I expected no unpleasant surprises in removing the form. The ability of a beaten-up old sawhorse and a couple of vertical planks to temporarily support the weight of the stones was more an early cause of concern. 

Another worry was the base being built upon, a four-inch-thick concrete slab. The compressive strength of the concrete was more than sufficient for this structure of 8,600 pounds; what was unknown was how well the concrete subsurface had been prepared. 

My worrying proved to be unnecessary; but it wasn’t unfounded. 

Earthquakes are still a concern in Hillsdale Co., MI, especially with all the fracking going on here, but I screwed a lot of wall ties into wall studs to stones. Tornadoes Scare Me, the song title of a musician friend. Yea, verily, what we build today could all be gone tomorrow.

The mantle and top piece of this fireplace are beams from an old barn, set in with their mortices showing. Mortices are chiseled openings into which the ends—the tenons—of other beams were received.