Born in Mount Gilead, Ohio in 1945 and today living in Colorado, Longhouse has published Merrill, and these chosen poems are a certain personal bias very late at night with a pencil flicking onto small poems read by one small light. It some times happens this way.
Let it be known there are many other poems in this book of flight, longer and prose poem and middle size, too. All sizes. Like shoes.
Again, use the truck as saw-horse and build the chapel doors.
A view into the work site from the road.
The versatile portable drill, and versatile short screws.
After the traveler passes by on the road along the stone wall comes the chalkboard and often a poem.
One finished pine door, and one more to match. I wanted to build both doors over two days, then take the third day off with Sweetheart and our bicycles.
The overhead lumber rack is now in place.
Bed the screw.
Getting ready to hang two doors.
These two jacks, who have traveled with me for decades (and look it) are the helpers deluxe when coming to lift the doors into position. Spruce blocks, wood shingle shims, any old board also help the installment along.
After one of two doors is bolted into place (not screws), measure out and see how the next door has a clearance magic of "1/4." That's what you're shooting for.
Both doors up and plumb, windows aligned, closing without complaint.
Here we have the doors almost finished, painted two-color and a brace against the door waiting for hardware to be installed. The bottom of both doors will have a hinged flap installed to be lifted during deep snow (winter) and back down for normal use.
If you look closely, the day after I finished building the chapel, a tree crew scheduled for October arrived a month earlier than expected, with a crane, and removed a mammoth white pine tree and this twin sugar maple tree right next to the chapel. You can see the saw chips on the stonewall. I asked the crew to leave ten feet of one of the maple trees and level the top. On that top I plan to install something . . . the ideas are percolating. The new sunshine, without the trees, is quite a gift.
Begin stenciling the big doors — one first coat and then go over the petals, free hand, with a second coat. The building will be stenciled with one thick tube of yellow paint.
Tap tap tap the color in and don't let your hand slip. The masking tape doesn't work on the painted steel surface anyway.
The rarely seen back wall faces the woods and for the moment has one line trace of leaves. I will do another line of leaves higher up before snow falls.
Some times with stenciling, a little is better than a lot more.
Remember the scaffolding? — well, after I dismantled that, I chopped some of it up and built this ladder to the second floor loft. It's all built into the space between the studs and takes up no extra room.
The finished building with stenciled doors and both flaps on the bottom of the doors to be lifted only when needed. The extra long 6 x 6 sill to the left of the photograph has since been cut back close to the post and beveled. We're done.
Scott's "Archer" (steward) was sent decades ago here to us from his ironworks in Maine. We brought him over to this new spot to see how he likes it. So far, not a peep.
A poem (or more) will be offered by the hour or with the day and at the very least once a week. So stay on your webbed toes. The aim is to share good hearty-to-eat poetry. This is a birdhouse size file from the larger Longhouse which has been publishing from backwoods Vermont since 1971 books, hundreds of foldout booklets, postcards, sheafs, CD, landscape art, street readings, web publication, and notes left for the milkman. Established by Bob & Susan Arnold for your pleasure. The poems, essays, films & photographs on this site are copyrighted and may not be reproduced without the author's go-ahead.
"Once again, my friends, this is your best book! Exquisite in design, fat enough to be a feast, pretty enough to just wade around in, but deep enough to dive into and stay with, all I can say is WOW, you guys really did it – it’s the first of its kind, a scrapbook novel that is also a how-to and a mystery -- how did he do it, and how does he make rocks balance like Thor? — Gerald Hausman" ~