Runes you will find, and readable staves,
Very strong staves,
Very stout staves,
Staves that Bolthor stained,
Made by mighty powers,
Graven by the prophetic god,
For the gods by Odhinn, for the elves by Dain,
By Dvalin, too, for the dwarves,
By Asvid for the hateful giants,
And some I carved myself:
Thund, before man was made, scratched them,
Who rose first, fell thereafter.
Know how to cut them, know how to read them,
Know how to stain them, know how to prove them,
Know how to evoke them, know how to score them,
Know how to send them, know how to send them.
[Hávamál (Words of the High One), translation by W.H. Auden & P.B. Taylor]
End of November, beginning of December, there were big developments inside and out. Outside, the posts for the upper deck appeared – and yes, they are as tall as they seem.
When these went up, I was under the illusion that they were going to get trimmed. Apparently I’d missed the memo about the recently revised code – railing heights have been upgraded from a mandatory 36” to 42”. No wonder everyone is putting in glass and cable railings; it’s the only way to preserve a view. I’d already nixed those options because don’t care to deal with cleaning the glass or with birds crashing into it, and I don’t like the look of hog-wire or horizontal cable. I hope and trust it won’t feel like we’re looking through prison bars, but our railing will be made of metal pickets.
Another fine outside addition was the mudroom door frame.
It’s not really off-kilter, I just took a cockeyed shot. The right upper corner of the door is necessarily angled, because the stairs to the deck will cut across the door. Jere came up with the great idea of angling both sides. Not only does it look cool, the mud-room door now echoes the shape of the dog-house window.
Biggest exterior thrill was the sudden appearance of the giant posts that mark the edge of the future-carport and will support the main deck. Jere refers to them as “telephone poles,” but they’d make damn fine totem poles, don’t you think? Below, Martín is prepping them for the glulam deck beams.
Inside, it was last-call for wires and pipes.
The soundproof membrane went in between the kitchen and bathroom, switch boxes were set in place,
and cables for the tv and sound system were laid and bundled.
The walls were ready for insulation and drywall. Or nearly so. Before moving on, Jere went ‘round with his camera and took pics. I did the same on my own time with my phone-camera, and ended up with a photo file of 175 images of the studs, wires, cables, pipes, outlets, vents – all the stuff that’s now behind or partially behind the walls.
The pics came in handy in short order. Going through the house after the sheetrock was done, seemed to me we’d lost a bedroom outlet. I checked against my photo gallery, and sure enough, an outlet had gotten buried behind the wall. Did a thorough check and found we’d lost a couple of light plates as well.
Insulation before sheetrock, though, and with mountains of it standing by ready for installation, Roy and I visited the house at dusk on two consecutive days with magical purpose; we meant to stick our own stuff in and on the walls. I thought I’d invented the idea. Turns out, people have been deliberately filling the space behind their walls for ages.
Among the most common hidden treasures are shoes. Hundreds have been found in the walls of cottages, churches and stately halls across Europe and the US, including a collection of 300 year-old footwear discovered behind a wall of the Gothic Liedberg Palace in Germany. Some theorize that shoes are a good luck charm, warding off evil spirits from entering a home. Hiding cats in the walls doubtless served the same purpose. Hiding dirty laundry in the walls dates back to the Middle Ages. Priceless artwork, cash, toys, and mummified remains are less commonly found, but common enough to warrant a mention. And people have been leaving graphics – scratching and drawing pictures, symbols, names, dates – inside their walls for ages, as well.
Our behind the wall adventures began with 4 directional-elemental objects that we placed in the corners of the main floor, up in the rafters. The corners of the house correspond exactly to the four directions. Our additions are intended to be a little extra anchor and gate-way protection.
Next evening, using a nail we picked up on-site, Roy carved Old Norse symbols into the walls/beams of all the rooms and doorways. We did two circuits, going all ‘round the house deosil, giving each area a principal rune, then adding another where it seemed appropriate.
Here’s the Futhark alphabet – nicely laid out the way I learned them, in 3 groups: Freyja’s Eight, Hagal’s Eight and Tyr’s Eight.
Each rune is a letter, but also a word, and also a host of meanings and connotations.
= F = Freyja (Goddess of Beauty, Love, Art) = Fee, Cattle, Wealth (good luck and prosperity). This one of the runes we used to bless the kitchen, the landing (altar-space), and the master bedroom.
The closets and panty got 
= P = Peorth = corral, holding place.
We etched 
(shows up on the chart as 
) = I = Ingwaz = Ing (Fertility God) = Kin, Offspring and 
= W = Wunna = Odhinn = Bliss on the guest room wall, because I imagine my kids staying there and sleeping blissfully.
We even set a 
= E = Eoh = Horse in a post by the carport, where our loyal metal steed will be stabled.
Twenty-nine runes in all. We smudged them after carving them. And the next day –
followed by –
I’m especially pleased with the drywall finish – not a spatter orange-peel or cottage cheese look; it’s a smooth with occasional dips and imperfections texture. I think it’s called Santa Fe.
More on sheetrock next time, when our house and one of our drywall artistes get starring roles in a Super Bowl commercial. Till then, another glowing view from the hill (with one of the Table clan in the foreground).
