Chapter 84 Indoor Heating - 2

When I was building chimneys, I studied the trade of plasterers.My bricks are all second-hand and must be scraped clean with a trowel, so that I have a more than ordinary understanding of the properties of bricks and trowels.The mortar on it is fifty years old, and is said to get stronger with age; that's the kind of thing people love to repeat, whether they're right or not.This kind of speech itself becomes stronger and stronger with time, and it needs to be struck repeatedly with a trowel to shatter it, so that an old man who thinks he is wise will no longer say this kind of speech.Many villages in Mesopotamia were built of good old bricks picked up from the ruins of Babylon, and the cement on them was probably older and probably stronger.In any case, the tile knife is very powerful, and I am amazed that it does not damage the steel blade at all when it is struck hard.The bricks I used to build the fireplace were all bricks from a previous chimney. Although Nebuchadnezzar's name was not engraved on it, I chose as much as I could.Picking as much as I could find, so as to save work and waste, I filled the boulders from the shore between the bricks around the fireplace, and used only the white sand of the lake for my mortar.I spend a lot of time on the stove, making it the most essential part of my humble home.Indeed, I work very finely, and though I start my work from the ground early in the morning, at night it is only a few inches above the ground, and I sleep on the floor just in place of a pillow; yet I remember that I did not sleep It became a stiff neck; my stiff neck came out of a previous sleep.It was about this time that I had a poet come and stay for a fortnight, which prevented me from having room.He had brought his own knife, but I had two, and we used to stick them in the ground to wipe them clean.He cooks for me.It was a pleasure to see my stove, square and solid, rising gradually, and I thought, though slowly, that it could be said to be stronger.In a way, the chimney is an independent body, standing on the ground, passing through the house, and rising to the sky; even when the house burns, it still stands sometimes, and its independence and importance are obvious.It was still near the end of summer.It is now November.

The north wind has begun to cool the lake, though it will continue to blow for weeks before it freezes, the lake is too deep.When I lit the fire the first night, the smoke went unhindered up the chimney, which was wonderful, for the walls had many leaks, before I had plastered the siding.However, I passed several pleasant evenings in this cold, drafty room, surrounded by knotty brown boards, and with rafters barked high overhead.Afterwards the plaster was applied and I loved my house so much.I can't help but admit that it's extra comfortable.Shouldn't the roof of every house that people live in be so high that it feels a bit hidden?At night, the shadows cast by the firelight can dance over the rafters.This form of shadow should be more suitable for hallucinations and imaginations than frescoes or the most valuable furniture.Now I can say that for the first time I lived in my own house, sheltered from the weather, and warmed for the first time.I also used two old wood-frames to keep the logs free, and I was relieved to see the smoke gathering behind the chimney I had built with my own hands, and I stoked the fire with more authority and satisfaction than usual.It is true that my house is too small to cause an echo; but as a single room, far away from the neighbors, it seems a little larger.Everything that should be in a house is gathered in this one room; it is the kitchen, bedroom, parlour, and storeroom; whether parents or children, master or servant, I enjoy all that they get in one house Arrived.Cato says that the master (patremfa-milias) of a household must, in his country house, have "cellam oleariam, vinariam, dolia multa, uti lubeat caritatem expectare, etrei, et virtuti, et gloriae erit," that is "It is good, valuable, and honorable for him to put a cellar for oil and wine, and to put many barrels against hard times." In my cellar, I have a small barrel of potatoes, about two A quart of peas, with their weevils, on my shelf, and a bit of rice, and a jar of molasses, and a peck each of rye and Indian corn meal.

I have sometimes dreamed of a larger house with many people, standing in the golden age of myth, with durable materials and no gaudy roof, but it consisted of only one room, a large, simple, Functional and primitive hall, without ceiling or mortar, but bare rafters and beams, supporting the lower sky overhead,--yet well protected from rain and snow, where, before you enter After an ancient prostrate Saturn pays homage, you see trusses and double pylons receiving your homage; an empty room where you must hold a torch on top of a long pole to see the roof, and There some may live by the hearth, some in the window recess, some on the ottoman, some at one end of the hall, some at the other end, and some, if they please, in the rafters with the spiders Above: This room, you are in as soon as you open the door, and you don't have to keep track of it; where the weary traveler can wash, eat, drink, talk, sleep, and don't have to travel further, just the one you would like to go to on a stormy night A house with everything you need, without the trouble of housekeeping; where you can see all the wealth in the house at a glance, and everything that people need is hung on a wooden peg; at the same time, it is a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a bedroom, and a storehouse. and attics; where you see such useful things as barrels and ladders, and such conveniences as cupboards, and you hear the kettles boiling, and you hear the flames that cook your meals and bake you but the necessary furniture and utensils are the chief ornaments; there the washing need not be left out to dry, the fire is not extinguished, and the hostess does not get angry, and may sometimes ask you to move, so that the cook from You can go down the cellar through the floor door, and you don't have to kick your feet to know whether you are walking or not.This house, like a bird's nest, is open and obvious inside; you can come in the front door and go out the back door without seeing its tenants; even being a guest enjoys all the freedom in the house, and there are not seven-eighths that cannot be trespassed, and It's not about shutting you up in a special little room and telling you to enjoy yourself in it—in fact, it's about keeping you locked up alone.The average host at present refuses to invite you to his fire. He calls a mason and builds you another fire in a long corridor. an art.Regarding cooking, there are secret methods, which seem to poison you to death.I only feel that I have been in many people's houses, and might be coaxed away by the law, but I never feel that I have been in many people's houses.If I were in a mansion like the one I have described, I could wear old clothes and visit a king or queen who lived a simple life, but if I were in a modern palace, I hope I learned how to slip backwards. The ability to walk.