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Journal log: Oct. 3rd, 1912.
"While my machete skills are abysmal, I
find my traveling companion to be quite adept at beating
jungles around us, despite
being at least 10 years my senior, as we travel along a
path that only he sees, or knows by heart perhaps.
has gone on with no clearing yet in sight
this densely-forested jungle. I hear the calls of strange
and probably unnamed birds and the waft of wings from
bats woken by our disturbance. My stomach is telling me
it must be nearing dinnertime.
Still no signs of any civilized clearing, but over a small
hill and there it was right on top of us--Quatermaine's
modern given our surroundings, with a rainwater
barrel at one corner, glass panes which opened, and even
screen here and there to keep the beastly jungle
who have seen to have taken a liking to my flesh for
reason, at bay. There was virtually no clearing however
between the cabin and the nearest trees; I worried that
some branch would end up smashing the place to bits."
"'Here's what I wanted to show you,' my host finally
offered. 'I figured you drenched Londoners could use a
"Quatermaine pulled a rope on a pulley in one corner,
which seemed to slide a set of lynchpins, I'll call them,
unlatching the front gutter and allowing it to tip
and dump its collection of leaves, twigs, and vermin onto
the ground below."
"If you'd be so good as to tilt that end of the gutter
up, I'll do the same here and reset the pins. There, that
job's done. I do hope to improve the reset method.
Ladders for me anymore are a chore, especially after a
of trekking through the Northern Belgian Congo."
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||+ for "Pull. Dump. Done." and the awesome narrative.
||<link> Dang. That was gonna be my claim to riches.
||Later edit: they didn't exist in 1912, so nyah...
||^ it still can. Just add an electric feature, little switch on
the wall and CLANG! they all dump at once.
||It's a chore, to be sure. Maple seeds are the bane around
here. Perhaps a sort of electric grid inside, insulated
from the gutter metal, several sections that can be
heated to burn the offending chaff and clutter. Perhaps
monthly so as not to create a raging inferno that would
catch the shingles afire.
Don't get me started on gutters.
No really. Maybe in the spring.
||I've been spending a <strikethrough>month of</st>entire
spring and summer of Saturdays, Sundays, and every
other Friday ripping off the old vinyl ones, scraping what
sad remnants were left of the trim paint, rebuilding
rotted trim, priming, painting, and at last now
reinstalling new gutters, gutter caps, and downspouts,
just in time for it to get too cold to be up on the roof and
for the leaves to fall. All singlehandedly. It's been a
||As my backyard is overgrown with the vestiges of what
once probably was a very loverly garden with trees
entirely too close to the house, I was inspired to up the
ante a bit for this story. I had to clean leaves out every