“About once an hour he has to come down for a medical check, to stretch, and to relieve himself, because even David Blaine can’t do that upside down”
- Patrick Smith, Blaine’s spokesman, quoted on Fox News.
“About once an hour he has to come down for a medical check, to stretch, and to relieve himself, because even David Blaine can’t do that upside down”
- Patrick Smith, Blaine’s spokesman, quoted on Fox News.
Finally got round to downloading these from the camera. They’re not the best ever photos, but it’s going to be the best ever bread oven, so I guess that makes up for it.
The oven is (will be…) situated down from the main front bit of the house, near the pond.
That beer you can see on the table is the new Super Bock superior brand, called something like the ‘Golden Classic’ or ‘European Splendor’. I forget. The shirt is hanging on the old dead ‘washing tree’ which I’d just cut down, before re-setting it in a bucket of stones and concrete (you can see the bucket in the bottom left hand corner). It’s our clothes line.
The back of the oven will be up against the earth. It’ll open out onto the path, which I’ve widened at the bottom to make a preparation / wine drinking zone.
That wall isn’t in its finished state, I should say. There was a lot more sweaty tweaking and stone fiddling before I was satisfied. Then I finished the wall.
Just above the ‘n’ of oven is a path (which I’ve uncovered and improved) leading up to another bit of the garden. So the oven will be at a nexus of paths, the centre of all fun. Much like the Olympics, the bread oven has already spurred on the regeneration of the surrounding area. Here is a raised bed which is located further up the stairs. It’ll have herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers. I might even try and grow anchovies.
That strip of darker earth is gunk from the smaller pond which I cleared out after it went septic. Mainly it’s dead snail matter and rotten lilly roots, and is amazing fertilizer. I reckon.
Here’s a photo of the actual oven area (5ft wide x 4 ft deep, which I know isn’t very big, but this is a ‘starter oven’ so I’m keeping a check on my ambitions). I’ve dug down much further than it shows, and rebuilt the wall, but here’s how it looked on Day 1:
Doesn’t look like much yet. But just you wait until you’ve brushed the twigs off that first wet flap of undercooked pizza dough. Then judge it.
When the project resumes, I’ll put up a proper diagram and measurements and such. And I’ll keep you posted on the pathside regeneration (e.g. installation of a sink, building out of a deck from the upper path). The knock-on effect that this all-new Oven Zone will have on Bar Bacardi and ‘The Coop’ is yet to be seen. Bar Bacardi is about to have a new roof, so maybe that’ll help it keep custom.
I wouldn’t mind being called any of these, culled from this week’s spam folder: Sheats Hadwin, Wanlass Kinkel, Fewless Bou or Ladawn Siles. I think I might start dressing with a little more determination if I were called Sheats Hadwin. Find myself reaching for the sunglasses, slapping my gun into its holster before leaving the caravan. Maybe spambots are, by trial and error, becoming more human than humans. They’re becoming people we can look up to. I wish Fewless Bou were my friend. He’d let me ride his motorbike, I reckon. He drives a ’65 Harley Panhead. Pepper red.
(Pepper Red is Ladawn Siles’ cousin. He rides a Triumph Bonneville ’59, meriden blue. Meriden Blue is…)
I don’t think Wanlass Kinkel would be sitting where I am today, having to stretch for a glimpse of cloud. I don’t think Wanless Kinkel would be wittering on about Wanless Kinkel. I think Wanless Kinkel would get back to work.