Little oaks

Earlier, we picked up some acorns from the side of the road near the general store. There’s a giant oak there and, judging by the limbs that are falling off it, it’s reaching the end of its life.

The planting of an oak is an odd thing. One plants an oak for the huge, spreading majesty of the mature tree. But you know that quality is not going to materialise for at least 20 years, and likely won’t occur until after you’ve died of old age.

So these oaks will be for R.

We germinated the acorns in the fridge by popping them all in a mix of loose soil, sawdust and this special moisture-retaining stuff S got for her monkey cup plants. Out of about 100 acorns we got 20 germinated. They’re potted up and ready to grow into a mighty forest.


Interesting construction

This geodesic structure was built for a festival in Roskilde. It’s made completely out of ply and uses the soccer ball / buckyball 60-node hexagon/pentagon configuration. All the pieces are identical, and were CNC-machined. Construction was completed in 8 days.

Ply geodesic


There’s a video on YouTube showing the construction.

No way in for Mr Fox

… besides the front door.

OMG the rain. On again. Off again. Patches of sunshine lasting just long enough to get your boots on before disappearing.

The last three little triangles of wire were secured to the chicken run, and the pieces threaded together.


Now there’s no way in for Mr Fox, and Captain Cluckwash and her indomitable sailor ladies will be safe from harm.



Next, the floor on the coop. Then the nesting boxes. Then cladding the two open ends. Then the roof. Then the ramp. Then the front door. Then, chickens.

Dead car

Off to Kallista to visit the market and do some grocery shopping. We’re on foot, because the car really is dead this time. Oh well, we squeezed another six months of life out of it.



Tried to get R to do a sad face. Maybe kick the tyre or something. He seems intent on being happy, though, stubborn child.