Dolphin Address 21
December 18th 2007
In the previous edition I told you how my tummy turned when I saw the destruction of my kitchen hole. In the reconstruction that followed, the 1953 flood experience and energy of my friend from Zeeland, Willem, played a crucial role. But when the basics for shelter and cooking had been completed to my satisfaction, my momentum did not allow me to rest on my seaweed.
First I reinforced the walls. This typically is a job for 3D puzzle freaks, only without the answers on the last page. Although each and every stone has its near-unique shape, like triangular, oblong, round etcetera and these again are separable into subclasses, like oblong round, spherical and oval round with a flat bottom.
All these shapes have their unique fit, or not.
A triangularly-shaped stone, for example, will, to a certain depth, fit between two other stones and has a flat side, on top of which stacking can be continued. Thus there are numerous variations that have but one goal: that the pile-up is not to collapse. Very existential and all.
As the wind still blew in from the southwest I also built a quarter-round wall in front of the entrance. Now the wind can’t come in so I can burn candles while cooking. Merry Christmas to you all!
The crevices between the stones I have tried to close with modelling clay, but that was no success. It shrunk after drying and fell out. Now I’m considering loading a lot of earth (particularly on the south side), so the beautiful flowers, that have made the Burren so famous, can grow there. The roof is already all ready for that. Precisely when I needed it, the wind had landed a large sheet of plastic foil in the bramble bushes on Funny Lane. That I have tightened across the roof to extend the life of the plywood sheets.
Next I went looking for a quarry. Everywhere until deep in the ground there are boulders and grit, but a bit across the stone wall I found a pit from which I could mine earth.
I used to have to enter my kitchen stooped and balancing on top of the stones. These I have, moved to a less obstructing position partly with my jack which can lift up to 5 tonnes, my 2 metre long crowbar, made of crowbar steel, and with steely perseverance. Next I dug out a path with the pointed side of the crowbar and removed the grit. Now I can walk in and out of my kitchen a lot more easily. This is no superfluous luxury, especially since I had to balance across a metre high stone formation through storm and rain and in near darkness carrying my supper to the bus.
I did leave a natural ‘threshold’ to keep out the rainwater.
Appearances also count and because pretty things are less prone to be vandalised, I have taken beautiful rounded stones from the rolling stones bay, put them in my rucksack which I emptied in a sawn open jerry can which, when loaded, I towed with a rope across the meadow to the kitchen.
The space for dishwashing as well as the path to the kitchen I have laid fittingly, albeit more level. When the ocean washes up a sandy beach again, I’ll sprinkle it over the stones and wipe it in between.
In order to brave a next catastrophe I want to roll a few extra heavies in front of my kitchen to serve as breakwaters.
And all this to bring my coffee water to the boil ten minutes faster.
Jan Ploeg, Boston, December 18th 2007
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