Rainy Inside Day, Nearly Housework

Its a little wet today, some Pacific storm passing over.
I'm afraid to go outside for fear of drowning.
Good day for us cats to hang out inside and conserve energy.

I just wish there were room enough on the table for all three of us.
I suppose this is a good day to do some housework, time to pull some stuff down and dust my junk. I often say the biggest packrat around here lives inside the cabin.
I have always liked my 'stuff'.
Sometimes I get to admiring and fondling things I often don't get much actual housecleaning done. But not today, none of that fiddle farting around sitting down and looking at things and reminiscing and not get anything done. I need to stay focused on the job and have a productive afternoon while the rain pounds on the metal roof and I don't feel guilty about being inside.
Where do I start.....

 I reckon I could get the ladder and bring some items down from the gable end. Sounds like too much effort for hardly any dust. The snowshoes were used by my Dad prospecting in the 1950's, I used them in the 1980's prospecting in Yukon.The old hand saw is from 1900. It belonged to nature writer named Winson, whom was quite elderly when my folks bought his acreage straddling the 49th parallel near Sumas. He and his wife spent their few remaining years living in a small cottage Dad had built for them on the property, and I have vivid memories of him. The quiet old man always fascinated me, the fact that at one time, he wrote books and articles, made a huge impression on me.

This is from his collection, a native tool for pounding, or grinding, bought or traded on a field trip. Many items from his estate have been passed on down to me, it fits my decor I guess and is some of my favorite stuff. I may write more about Mr. Winson here sometime, so I don't want to go on too much right now.

I've got dusting to do, a job that would be easier if it were not for all the clutter around here.

 These long retired old traps have hung on the lodge wall from the beginning.
People often don't recognise what they are and sometimes poke and handle them.
They are tack-welded in the open, unsprung position.

 This old blasting machine has some family history. A number 50, means it can ignite 50 charges.

There is a Ralph Trethewey in the states that is noted for his intricate hand carved game figurines.
I'm lucky enough to have one of them. Apparently we aren't related.

 There were several relatives that made names for themselves in past generations. There was a great 'uncle' William that my Dad was named after. He planned and sold lots in the early town site of Mission BC. Then found spare time enough to design and patent an improved brake system for trains. In the late 1890's he promoted a remote silver mine not far from here on the shore of Harrison Lake called the Providence Mine, discovered when his brother Joe had been horse logging there.

One of Will's original share certificates.
1897 Providence Mine Harrison Lake BC

Providence was certainly on his side several years later in the rowdy staking rush into the wilds of northern Ontario, discovering a rich silver lead or two pretty much within days of arriving.

                                               Original Trethewey shaft. 1904 Cobalt Ont.

His Coniagas Mine was a big producer of rich silver ore, the likes of which is seldom seen these days.

 This is some of the original surface samples taken at discovery in 1904. There is more metal than rock.
The pink shade you can see is called a cobalt bloom, associated with the deposit.
The town that sprang up around this and other early discoveries was named Cobalt.
Great Uncle Will sold out and went onto many more ventures and adventures. He had a large experimental farm outside of Toronto where he held one of the earliest air meets in Canada.

This photo of the day needs new glass but shows Count De Lessops of France, and Wilbur and Orville Wright in Will's pasture.

                                         

 William's brother Joe followed him to Ontario, making a bundle on the sale of the Coniagas and returning to BC to carry on  mining, ranching and logging in grand style.
The house he built in Abbotsford has been turned into a museum.
http://www.historicplaces.ca/en/rep-reg/place-lieu.aspx?id=5880

 Plenty has been written about some of these characters of past.
I'd like to write about them and some other relatives of mine here some day.
There were several successful, driven, A type personalities in past generations.
I don't know what the hell happened to me, the gene seems to have clear skipped me completely.

My, this housework is taking longer than I figured, it would be a lot easier without all this clutter around here. I think I better just have a tea and plan for when I really do tackle dusting the logs.
I'll  go put the kettle on, and contemplate the matter further.

                   

Where was I.......

                                Miniature cedar stump. I've lost the little axe that was stuck in it.

                                Painted rocks. Traded by a hippie girl for camping years ago.

                                

 This is an African penis protector. It is so. Brought back by someone whom has been there in what I assume must be the land of brambles. It didn't come with instructions, and I can only hope its a new one.

 These old fire extinguishers are neat. "Turn upside down and play on fire" it says.

 

This is a scary looking thing. A old broad axe for squaring timbers. It came from Nahun, which was a stop for the steamers that plied Okanagan Lake in the early 1900's.
That reminds me of the time me and....oh never mind.

 That never comes down, its secured up there and is quite heavy. That is a woolly mammoth tusk, dug up in my Yukon mining days in a past life. Things like that would sometimes turn up in the frozen ground during the gold mining process.

These soldiered tin cans are from the Klondike gold rush era, found where miners camped while transporting outfits around the Whitehorse Rapids 1897-1899.

Those were sure fun days up there in Yukon. Yes sir, If I could live any time over again, it would be then.
Then with today's gold price of course, which is $1000 more an ounce then us 'old timers' got back then.
I remember the time I got that D6 cat stuck way the heck off in the middle of nowhere, and that first 1000 oz cleanup we did in June1980 was an experience I will never forget.

 Funny the things two legged packrats keep around.
The pocket watch hasn't worked for 30 years, I used it operating bulldozer at the remote mine site, it reminds me of stopping and turning my back to the wind then cracking open my thermos while the machine idled. The miniature anvil was handmade from a section of the original narrow gauge railway built up Bonanza Creek over a hundred years ago.

We never imagined back then someday they would make reality TV shows about what we did out there.



I damn near forgot about my machete hanging up in the library.

 In pre 911days I carried these on the plane back from Central America.
A long and a short, and well used.

 That was an interesting adventure down there.
Other than the getting malaria part, I could have done without that.
Lots of crazy things happened there, I recall the day we got word the tree fell on a worker way out in the  bush towards the coast, boy, that was a long day.

I remember the day these were taken, on an event filled overland trip to the southern boundary with Mendoza, Armando, Luis and our hero One Eye Santos. Several stories came about years ago about this day. If I wasn't so busy thinking about housework, I could dig them out and post something.


What have we here...

Don't get me going about those damn things.


Well I have to admit, this housework planning and little informational museum tour has tuckered me out, and I may need to relax for a spell.

Hey, ChYk, slide over a little will you.