Tag Archives: Serendipity

Sweating copper pipes

16 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by in House, Learning from mistakes

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Twelve out of fourteen sweated copper joints held perfectly. Two leaked with a tell-tale seep from one, and a fine spray mist from the other. In some matters twelve out of fourteen is a good score. In plumbing it doesn’t count for much.

This was my first serious attempt to solder copper pipes and brass fittings in order to install a new shower in our home. A skeptic had asked me whether I was a Dagwood Bumstead type of plumber. As you may recall Dagwood always managed to make a worse leak out of a minor one, and finally Blondie would have to call the plumber to repair the damage. I have had reasonable success with drains, and compression fittings and threaded pipes, but this application called for soldered copper pipes, which challenged me to try to do something I had not done before.

The home repair manuals and video guides make it look easy, and for the most part it is, if one can keep a flaming torch aimed in the right direction without staring a fire in the insulation and wood framing, and develop a sense of when the pipes are hot enough to melt the solder, and balance the torch in one hand while keeping a steady hand to skim the melting solder all around the joint to be fitted. In other words it takes some art and experience. So Jan awarded me some points for getting twelve out of fourteen, but the shower still was not functional.

In one case the water was easily drained and I could proceed with a second attempt to seal the joint. In the second the repair was more difficult, involving removal of a section, including a well-soldered joint, and starting over with some new tubing and fittings.

I suppose that I am about 12/14 of the way through my life’s expected days. There is still a lot to do, and some challenges seem intractable. Like my work with copper fittings this is no time to congratulate myself on finishing twelve out of fourteen, when the entire project is not yet complete. But when can life be considered complete? There are always more people to serve, including a new generation that is just beginning, and more problems that arise as people try to surmount the obstacles that come at each stage of life. Still there must be a time when one admits that one has done enough, at least in this situation, in this way of doing things, with what talents or time one has to do it. So I suppose I  am 12/14 of the way through, and the last two tests appear as hard or more so than the first twelve.

Some of what is left to do will mean simply continuing to do what I know how. But I will also have to take apart and redo in a different way some of the things done earlier in order to finish well. I have to keep learning right up to the last, for life changes as people and their expectations change, and there are more and different demands now than there were when I started. Still the fact that I have had twelve successful experiences gives me confidence in God’s grace that there will be at least two more.

Persistent cockleburs

15 Wednesday Oct 2014

Posted by in Farm, Learning from mistakes

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Who has ever walked through a field without getting cockleburs on pants and socks? Or let a dog run loose through a wild prairie area without having it come back with knots of hair so entangled with those pesky burs that they had to be cut out? Those horsepill-sized ovoid balls bristle with a hundred stiff fibers each so they attach to any hair or fiber that passes by. Thus the seed travels to distant points and plants itself wherever the carrier finally succeeds in dislodging it. So effective and persistent is this method of connection that it inspired the invention of velcro. Even those things that irritate us can teach us. 

Cockleburs are sturdy annuals that grow rapidly into thick stalks that branch out into shrubs. Their broad leaves provide a small tree of shade for the little animals of the field, but they crowd out the less durable row crops that farmers value, and they provide a challenge to the combine at harvest. Cutting those weeds out of soybeans and corn used to provide a steady income to us row-walkers during June and July of each year, but in the last two decades a series of chemicals have replaced the labor intensive method of extermination. And drilled beans and narrow-rowed corn have made row “walking” more challenging! (I can’t forget velvetleaf, smart weed, pigweed, ragweed, various thistles, milkweeds, and other “offenders” who each deserve their own memorials.) Nevertheless cockleburs thrive. Partly this is due to the need to time spraying appropriately to match their early development. Partly it is due to the ingenious design of the seeds themselves to include time-release germination.  

Every cocklebur produces seeds that germinate at one year, two year and three year intervals. If you really want to get rid of it, your plan must include a long-term execution. Again we must marvel at the intricacies and sophistication of nature. Often it suggests design and pattern as a counterpoint to accident and happenstance. We marvel at these small revelations and jump ahead in thought to the Designer in the faith that our lives too may prove sturdy and resilient, when the final pattern becomes visible. 

So we take our lessons from this inspiration for velcro. Can we be as persistent in our faith, and in our attachment to things that carry us farther than mere passing whim, and in our patience to begin from scratch again another year regardless of how much endures from last year’s efforts?

The blue spruce in my front yard

14 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by in Nature, Yard

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Twenty-five years ago we planted a blue spruce in our front yard. It was the first of many plantings, but a favorite specimen, so it had first priority. Long-time neighborhood residents noted that a huge blue spruce had been part of that landscape for many years, but it had blocked the front window of the house, so the previous owners had removed it. I would not have the courage to do that, no matter what window it had blocked. Nevertheless this new blue spruce, at one foot high, did not block anything, nor would it since I placed it at an angle from the front corner of the house.

The first year was very dry, so it was enough to water it twice a week, and hope that it survived. It did. Next year it rewarded our efforts with a full foot of growth. The next challenge came from a couple of boys who on their way to the school yard liked to run into our yard and jump over the tree. My partner saw the boys do it the time that one did not jump high enough. He came down on the tree and broke it sideways, splitting the trunk. You can be sure he got a thorough reprimand and a call to his parents. I didn’t have much hope for the tree, but I set it straight and taped it carefully. We lost some lower branches in that season, but the tree continued to grow.

A foot a year added to the tree, and soon we were decorating it with lights at Christmastime. If this was a nuisance to the tree it did not protest. Then came the windstorms that decimated the three Norway maples that fronted our lot. One huge limb after another came crashing down next to the blue spruce, threatening to smash it, but narrowly missing it. Our son, present for a couple of these storms when we were away, pulled the limbs away, and wondered how the tree managed to survive.

Now the tree stands at thirty feet, a kind of marker to providence. There have been lots of changes, and we would be foolish to believe that they have been all to the good. Several of the giants of former days have fallen, and the landscape appears smaller, even though still quite lively. We are thankful for the sturdy intrepid witness of one colorful tree, encouraging our faith in the steady hand that sees us through the changes and in the goodness of the outcome.