two historic gristmills

The other day, my husband and I hopped into his newly-acquired red convertible and drove to Canada. Our destination? Ottawa -with a few unplanned stops along the way!

Only a few miles past the border, we encountered the historic town of Spencerville. This beautiful grist mill is a museum. It beckoned to us. We pulled off the highway to stretch our legs and to see how our new convertible looked in the parking lot next to this lovely stone mill.

The college student who was our informative guide showed us around the place. Here on the ground floor is some of the mechanism that brings the power from the water to the grindstones.

I appreciated this antique advertisement that was on the wall of the mill.

Outside, a few of the time-worn millstones are on display. If you are a follower of this blog, you know my infatuation with such things.

Amazingly enough, we only drove a few more miles when we spotted a sign for another historic mill. This one is in Manotick, Ontario. It was a perfect day; sunny and breezy. Just the right kind of weather for an outdoor lunch with a view of the river and the mill!

We enjoyed the free tour and the displays. I learned a lot about how a gristmill works. I must admit, I am still a little foggy about the whole process. (This is a girl who buys her flour in a bag from King Arthur!)

Here is a nifty do-dad thing-a-ma bob, without which a farmer cannot obtain milled flour from his wheat. Neither can he get milled grain from his corn. The lever controls the placement of the topmost grist-stone.

This photo shows them apart. The grinding happens in between them, like a sandwich. Cool, huh?

This is the hopper. I know that grain gets poured into it. I'm not sure about exactly where in the process this happens. But I DO know that this mechanism does NOT hop.

Give me credit for that, anyway.

We will be coming back with the kiddos sometime soon, you betcha. And then Ben will explain it all to me very slowly with carefully chosen words that don't freeze my non-mechanically inclined brain.

I love the fact that there was a working gristmill just outside my window. I love hearing the waterfalls all night long, remembering how valuable their power was to a town such as ours, so very long ago. After touring these two humble museums, I understand a little bit more what it was all about.

life is a bowl of cherries sprinkled with roofing dust

I certainly don't attempt to be a literary genius on this blog. But if a speck of genius happens to show through, well then.

Any writing on these pages is mostly explanatory, anyway. Pictures generally will do the trick of keeping interested parties abreast of old our stone home. So, here come a beacoup-load of 'em. Have yourselves a fun time!

Here is the room in which I try to work. When the jack-hammering out my window becomes too intrusive, I go play scrabble online.

I'm playing a lot of scrabble online these days.

This machine is one of the quieter ones.

Up the road a few steps, you will find a different kind of progress. We call this property "The Green House". Because it's green, of course!

The laminate flooring is installed. The kitchen is looking great. Floor & window trim is almost done. I spend a lot of quality time here with a trim brush and Frank Sinatra.

Upstairs is apartment #2, which received a coat of primer the other day, thanks to a couple of generous friends with a sprayer. They saved me a lot of work and allowed me 17 1/2 hours of kayak-time.

Boy, do I ever like those guys..

This boy is dangerous. He is armed with a nail gun and he is perched on a roof. He aims at passersby.

No. Really, he & his dad re-shingled our porch roof yesterday. It was in shambles. But no more! It's now looking mighty fine.

Only one bat was harmed in the making of this roof. You don't want to know the details. Trust me.

Who says life is not a bowl of cherries?

We consumed a wonderful dinner on the porch last evening. Grilled chicken, garden salad, and grilled garlic bread, Oh, and bowls of cherries! Note: one does not need an oven to make this and many other meals. Which is good, because I don't HAVE an oven.

When all this fuss gets to be too much for me, I throw the kayak on the river and escape for an hour.
Today I watched a doe and her twin fawns drink at the shore. The babies bleated like little goats, but as soon as I got close enough to snap a picture, they followed their mom into the recesses of the grassy bank.

around here

The other evening after supper, Hubby announced that he was in the mood to swing a chainsaw. A few hours later, we had a view of the river from the back yard.

He's a maniac, I tell you. A handsome, hard-working, and energetic guy such as this absolutely deserves a new toy:I think red is his color.

In other news, there is a lot of noise around here. This was the view from the porch yesterday.

This is what the side yard looks like.

If you strolled up the street, you would see this. These two houses (the blue & white one and the green one ) belong to us, and they are getting new sidewalks, along with new water, gas, and sewer lines.

We try not to complain about the mess, the dust, the mud, the noise, and the lack of parking-- because when one considers how nice everything will look when it is finished, the inconvenience is a small price to pay.

Speaking of "price to pay", these services are all free. After taxes, that is.

The head of the bridge project insists that his men will move these grist-stones for us. Presently. they* are lying on the bank of the river, piled up on each other. *the stones, not the men. ha ha.

We were thinking they would make great benches upon which to sit and enjoy the river's view. Does anyone have any other ideas? They range from 12-18 inches thick and 5-7 feet wide at the longest part. Those babies are heavy!
One more picture: who is this groovy girl and why is she dressed like this?
I don't know, but somebody please tell her mother that she needs watched.

update

The summer days have settled into a type of rhythm.

First, our outdoor alarm clock awakens us promptly at seven. Men with hard hats are hard at work just out my bedroom window, running large machines, shoveling gravel, drilling water lines, and generally getting 'er done. I step out onto the porch after getting dressed, stretching and yawning as I shut the door behind me, in order to survey their progress.

Hubby is usually up and out the door before the rest of us are awake. Slowly, the remainder of the household arises, slaps down a bowl of cereal and a strong cup o' joe, and reads dad's chore-list. One might assume that we are busy beavers this summer, and that assumption is very correct. But the project at the top of our list is the finish renovating one of our rental properties up the hill, not fixing up the stone house!

Our family loves a project. Each day, I attempt to devote four to five hours painting and rolling at the properties. Jon has been sheet-rocking, Matthew has been taping, "mudding", and sanding, Ben has been putting up trim and screwing down floors, Ana has been painting trim and cleaning the work site. It has been quite the family endeavor! Our goal is to complete three apartments by the first of August. (Pictures to come!)

In the Old Stone Home department, I painted another cast-off chair for the front porch. Also, Ana and I brought home some beautiful hanging annuals. (We hope these little touches detract from the porch's creaky flooring and the sagging ceiling!) Other than unpacking a few boxes of books and keeping the yard mowed, this is about all the attention we have given our new abode this week.

The bridge crew and the road crew are busy digging on both sides of the property. Our driveway is blocked off for a few days as they continue to yank old, rusted oil tanks out from underground. (This favor is one of the "extras" that we recieve for the inconvenience of all the construction.) The workers told us that the tanks are a throwback from the days when the mill powered its engines from private tanks. This means that these tanks date back to the 1930s, at least.

The persistant rains have caused the river to rise quite significantly. The crew's dams have given way and they are scrambling to keep the project moving ahead. This week, they are working on placing wooden forms underneath the stone arches so that they can be repaired.

The swollen river has not prevented me from a daily kayak workout, though! I steer clear of the falls and enjoy a trip to the railroad bridge and back, viewing blue heron and painted turtles along the way.