Chesley

Pipe organs are particularly cramped places to work. As my mother said after seeing him singing in the Rainbow Chorus, "Les is a big man," about 6'2". Height can be a challenge for an organ builder, in fact tiny men are numerous in the profession. It would be a good one for women, but in all Les's stories (he relishes storytelling) I have yet to hear of a female organ builder. It's a field largely populated by Old World minds and values (church organists, on the other hand, are commonly flambouyant and gay). Anyway, it's no wonder a good masseur must be included in Les's personal budget, with all the crawling and hunching about we do. On the other hand he can scramble up high walls and surfaces that foil me at 5'9". Vertigo is a liability, but I manage to filter most of it when working.

This week we spent back in Chesley, reinstalling the Geneva Presbyterian Church organ we removed in January and have been renovating ever since. The machine was constructed in 1930 by a man much smaller than Les, so part of the redesign involved shifting parts around to allow for more generous catwalks and head room. We moved the bourdon pipes, at left, from elsewhere, and installed them sideways against the wall formerly occupied by antiquated circuitry. The new circuit board rests at right. Wires to and from the console and pipes meet there.

Yesterday we kept busy constructing wind lines out of PVC pipe. Several wind chests (which I've discussed before) have been installed overhead, and ranks of smaller pipes will eventually be plugged on top of them. When tuning the organ, Les must navigate a narrow walk board between the two chests visible here. These ones are controlled by the swell, one of the manuals (keyboards) on the console. The other set of pipes, called the great, mostly occupies a second chamber, beyond him. The third set, of which the bourdon is part, is controlled by the pedals.

Today a few men from the church (mostly farmers) came to help us lift the biggest 16-foot bourdon pipes back into place, followed by three heavy panels of the facade screen. Tomorrow we have some work to do in the shop, and next week we'll return to Chesley.

It's a 90-minute drive to and from Fergus, so I've had lots of time to make progress on knitting a vest for Mom. But I need to rip out the last couple of rows and didn't feel like doing that in the car, so today I just enjoyed the sunlight and gently rolling farmland. Slight shadows of clouds slid across dark fields, a patchwork of water and melting snow.

One of the perks of this job is that the boss always buys lunch, plus an afternoon coffee break if we work late. Les likes good food, and always manages to find the best restaurant even in the hinterlands of Chesley. This week we have lunched at Mocca Café on Chesley's main drag. The daily specials have included shepherd's pie, mushroom pasta supreme, and broccoli quiche. The soups have been good, but mere shadows of what we usually enjoy the diner called Horizon, in Fergus. I must tell you about that some other time.

At this stage of a job we work long hours, and I enjoy the good fortune of chipping away at debts.