Full Moon, Last Night?

The humidity dropped, the temperature dropped and the sky cleared while the flies didn’t know what to do, and bashed about stupidly.  I’ve never encountered such brazen flies. They bomb into your face for no apparent reason.

A fellow with a tee shirt with Vieques written on it had read on the board by the Donkey House that France and I had met there and he and his wife thought it was a funny coincidence.  They were formerly from Long Island but had lived in Maine for a while and brought family to the island.

The wind picked up and even though the day was still a ten; spectacular, I thought we might have time to tackle those projects we wanted to finish this week.  I spent some time working putting the old period door knobs I’d found antiquing in Bath that look like brown porcelain on the bedroom and bedroom closet doors in the guest quarters and finding out what I’d need at the hardware store tomorrow to finish the job, while France whacked away at the north trail (the cycle continues).   Ken and Dottie stopped by with family too, even though the ocean seemed rough.  There was a steady wind out of the west (southwest).  France showed him the foundation for, we think, an assistant keepers house down near the Whistle House that she is clearing and thereby uncovering to find out what he knows of it.  Can’t wait to post some of those photos.

Then the wind really picked up and I hadn’t remembered it that fierce since Jamie and Sol where here.  That is, except for the time I was whipped around in almost tornado like winds hanging on for dear life to a Weber grill filled with flaming red hot coals sending sparks and embers flying into the east across the island, to keep it from sailing across the lawn, the night the power went out.

I sent this e-mail to almost all the Friends of Seguin I’ve met with a couple of thoughts.

We finally decided something had to be done about the fishnet that at one time must have hung from nails in the back side of the museum gift shop, on the left as you enter the tower, but was now piled in a heap at the base of the wall.  France and I opened it up and spread it out on the helipad; there were already white patches on it that looked to me like mildew; so that it could dry in the sun.  There were bugs underneath it.

After it dried we folded it up and it’s now sitting on the porch between the two duplexes.  I don’t know the protocol with old fish nets.  Are they recycled or used by people who want to repair them?  Please advise.

I had a theory, that I was able to verify by something I read or heard, that some kind of container sat in the cylindrical indentations on the inside of the tower brick wall, with obviously a support of some kind (maybe like a little wooden work horse?), and a spigot, so that the oil could be drained from this storage place at the inside base of the tower for use at the top.

If this proves true, does anyone know what these containers might have looked like?  Or, know what in fact supported the half of the barrel that hung over the ledge?  If so, let’s find one and set it up as part of the museum.  Any ideas as to who might have a lead on this historical artifact?  They must have been standard issue for all museums.  I’ll try to do some research about it as well.  I’m just writing now to find out if this is something that you might have already considered.

I’m in town tomorrow and France will hold down the fort, so to speak.  Have a good week.

Michael

I’m staring at the most beautiful full (well, maybe that was last night) moon, rising in the east, lighting up the ocean with a beam that leads right to the porch where I’m sitting on Seguin.  And a moth just landed on my screen.

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