Greenjacket Workshop

  Sometimes even simple, needed projects take a long time to happen. Thats just how it works. Activation energy in the workshop is some mysterious and unknowable force not constraigned by actual complexity or necessity. I broke the little holder for my folding lock perhaps  3 years ago, though it could be pushing 4 if I'm being honest. Since then I've been strapping the lock to my porteur rack which has worked just fine. The project formed, however, when I became aware of these aluminum cans: They're leftover containers from shipping delicate vials of some reagent or another at work, and before I came along to hoard them,  any which were not reused as pen holders were just thrown away. Not recycled mind you, we do not actually recycle at work. As with most places in Rhode Island we may put things into recycling bins, but they are dumped into the regular rubbish as a matter of routine. The only thing that is actually recycled at work is paper and cardbord, and that is only...

  Managed to steal a little more time in the shop last night, and finally after a year of thinking about it the bike trailer has a solid floor. The hitch for this trailer lives on my klunker, who's gearing is well suited to pulling heavy things rather slowly. It will be put to good use running back and forth to the hardware store this spring.

 We don't just tinker in the workshop, we think too. No guarantees on the quality of those thoughts, but because I have not achieved zen master status yet the monkey mind fires away on all cylinders "as if driven by a motor" to quote the psych eval I recently completed (more on that sometime I'm sure). I want to keep these posts to a minimum of crankiness, so I will try my best to keep them concise and modest. The Buddha breathes in, he is breathing in, The Buddha breathes out, he is content. It has been a snowy winter and I have been thrilled. I have had many glorious weeks of snow cover to ruminate on the state of our sidewalks and bike lanes, the arrogance of the motor car , selfishness, suffering, respect, community, and civic responsibility. Those are all loaded concepts filled to the brim with projection and judgement so I have tried to distill my feelings into feelings and feelings alone. Anger, inconvenience, annoyance, fear, disappointment, and finally sadnes...

Managed to steal a few minutes in the shop, which had finally emerged from the snow melt.  First on the list was cutting some scrap wood for the bike trailer. These are old softwood boards which had been part of a workbench in the basement. Cut to width I'll screw them to two rails and they'll slot perfectly into the trailer, providing a study base for hauling bags of mulch and groceries and myriad junk.     My driver and the inch and a quarter broad head screws I plan to use are in the house for another project so this will have to wait.   With a few minutes left I turn my attention to my klunker. A crustbike or adventure bike, whatever term you prefer this bike is my outlet for big dreams and plastic derangement syndrome. My commuter which you'll see eventually is full of sneaky plastic and modern conveniences, compromises I'm willing to make for the sake of my commute and because, well, it's still a hell of a lot better than a car. But even I can be reas...