My Tattered Flag

My flag is tattered.  

It is the flag my Grandfather was proud to give me, now in my care.   I have flown it with pride, but now its threads are weak and its stripes are separating.  It flaps and flaps and comes apart as I watch.  It is a great flag, but will not remain so without considerable attention.

The wind is tearing it apart.  Sometimes so gentle it is imperceptible, sometimes fierce in a storm, but there is always wind.  The wind never stops.  It may blow East, it may blow West, it may blow from any direction.   My flag must adapt, shifting direction and rising up to accommodate the strongest of winds.  But it cannot withstand the buffeting indefinitely without care.

At times the stripes war against themselves, smashing each other with the energy of divisive gusts.  The flag must be taken down and repaired, lest it become a mass of untethered stripes and missing threads.  Left in this condition, it will not last long against the strengthening wind, and I fear a heavy gale is coming.

My flag has been repaired many times before by those who came before.  I now hold the thread.  As do you.  And you.  And you.  For it is not only my flag, but yours as well.

Will we watch as it comes apart, or use the needle to make it whole again with the thread we hold?

Broken Ground

Yes, Loonatics, we omitted the spring construction festivities this year due to overly busy schedules (what else is new?), course corrections, and a lack of facilities.  We hope to correct that in time for the fall construction extravaganza.

At long last, we're finally under way toward creating a new and improved Adirondack abode.  "Can't wait!" is an understatement.  Sure am glad we got the demolition done in October of 2015!

The roadside flowers along the Thomas E. Dewey New York State Thruway
are certainly lovely.  So glad we got to enjoy them
during our extra hour of driving due to a nasty mishap ahead.

This was actually good...
we were moving at this point.

But it was all worth it so that we could see our fine mess.
House will be to the right of the bulldozer.
Guest house will be on the left after that pile gets redistributed.

A small portion of our rock collection.
I'll soon be marking the positions for our personal Stonehenge.

Perhaps a better perspective from the garage balcony,
where we often recite Shakespeare.
"O Contractor, Contractor, wherefore art thou, Contractor?"

Isn't it beautiful?  Can't you see the foundation rising up before you?

Always good to have drainage.
There is even a little slope down to the lake.

More drainage...this for the guest house.
The existing pipe will be used to drain the area and under it.
I'm sure the swampy area it originally drained won't mind.

And good to have new flowers.
Since there has been no mowing, these interesting towers have arisen.
Wouldn't be great if you could plant the proper seeds, water a little,
and have your new dwelling rise up as quickly?

And rise up fully decorated, at that.

But even though nothing is finished, someone already lives here.

The lawn may need some work when we're done.

The fruit of previous labor stands watching.

Maybe the kayak shack will also get some new drainage.

And somewhere at the end of this pipe lies the septic system.
Glad this is the only visible evidence.

This would be the view to the lake from the walk-out basement,
if not for the regulations of the Adirondack Park Agency.
Whatever.

Isn't our soil lovely?
Other than the aforementioned rocks, it's all sand.
Good for digging.

Though we try to teach her otherwise,
the dog still enjoys digging.

My first walk in the basement.

The measuring tapes show the dimensions of the great room.

Not quite sure about the positioning...this shows moving a little closer to the lake.
Have to have a conversation with our builder.

After all that work, a little rest is merited.
The digging doggie dozes.