Jul 25 20:51:33 109 PA - A Little Hard Work Never Hurt Anyone

From Chronicles

Jul 25 20:51:33 109 PA.

PAVEL'S MEADOW AND FORGE

With the sun just poking over the horizon, Pavel is in his forge, singing happily and pounding loud enough to wake people within a half-mile radius. The coals are blisteringly hot, and every piece of land within and just outside the protective covering is home to something or other. Even his enormous hammer is sitting out in the open, but lain on the floor haphazardly rather than in its normal place against a post. Zoyenka is strolling through the grasses for a morning meal, and his small stream's gully can be seen misting up in the morning heat. Now and then, he looks up to the northwest, where someone coming from the city might be reasonably expected to enter his little piece of the world.

Fizzlesnoot does come into the picture, dressed in a pair of denim overalls instead of the suit typically worn while out and about. Still he wears his hat and carried that dusty old carpetbag around with him. "Allo Pavel!" he calls out with a wave, "Allo Zoyenka!" following suit.

Pavel calls out a greeting in Russian, waving a big hand as his other settles a large chunk of metal gracefully into the flames." You're here to work? Good! "He offers a big and toothy grin." If you can keep up, I'll put the pressure on you by speaking my own comfortable native tongue. If not, that's okay. You're here to work the muscles. You should probably loose the hat - "he directs Fizzlesnoot's eyes to a safe place beneath some of his drawers" - and put your bag somewhere safe. Are you ready to be sore? "

Fizzlesnoot moves over setting his bag and hat in a safe place, returning for further instruction, "Sounds good to me big guy. What's first." Clapping his hands together with an eager rubbing.

"Well, it's early and the coals are hot but I seem to have... forgotten... to fill up the quenching trough. He points to a ten-foot long, three-foot wide by three-foot deep open trough made of sturdy brick. "So if you could take those two buckets over there -" Pavel directs a finger to two twenty-gallon metal buckets "- down to the stream, fill them, and bring them up as many times as you need to fill up my tank, I need that done. I need it done quickly, too, because if you don't my little shovel might end up being wasted." The implement on the coals is tapped. He notes only, "Water's heavy."

Fizzlesnoot gives a nod as he pays attention to the task required of him. "Ok, sounds easy enough." Moving directly to the buckets to claim them and head down to the stream for the load. His short stature doesn't get the buckets that high off the ground, but it does clear it so long as no big rocks or tree stumps get in the way.

Pavel watches as his student - an odd term for this exercise - moves off. He goes back to some idle and gentle hammering. "Hold the buckets up over your head!" he yells, watching to see if Fizzlesnoot has enough ground clearance to make it down the fifteen feet safely to the stream. "Can you get there okay? I want to work you, not bust you."

Fizzlesnoot hoists the buckets up over his head which makes the getting to the river part much easier clearance wise. Filling each bucket with water he gives a thumbs up for the advice. Up over the head they go again as he climbs up the bank, to rest on his shoulders the walk back up the field. The first trip seemed easy enough, a decent pace if he can keep it going. Emptying the buckets into the trough with little trouble, and heading back down to the river.

"Good," Pavel offers encouragingly. "Only a few more trips to go!" That might be a minimalist approach to the estimate. "No need to sprint, but this shovel's getting pretty hot. Next time when you get back, put them on the end of this yoke. For now, lift them up and down as you go. Not like at the gym, just like... you feel the need to lift."

Fizzlesnoot heads on back down to the river with a cheerful nod, using the over the head method for getting down the bank to fill the buckets. And again, with little trouble over the head, comes back up with the buckets to empty into the trough. "Just let me know if I'm going too slow for you."

Pavel lifts the shovel out of the fire for a short time, allowing it to cool. "No, you're doing fine. But this isn't the water that I wanted, it was a different bunch of water that I was looking for. So please empty the trough into the buckets and take them back to the stream to set it free. You can use the yoke here if you want." He smiles, asking, "Bring the good water this time."

Fizzlesnoot pauses in puzzlement, "Huh?" Then wags a finger at Pavel, "Heh, you're just messing with me." Grinning broadly, "Good one big guy." Picking up the yoke to help in the process as he heads back down to the stream with another bit of added weight. Over the head and down the bank then up again, the little guy is starting to break a sweat in the hot weather.

The smith is slowly working the metal, an eye on Fizzlesnoot. "I said that the trough needed to be emptied first so it wouldn't contaminate the good water. Empty it into the buckets and take it back to the stream. Or better yet, there's a small rocky bowl over by the hill that Zoyenka likes to drink out of." Pavel points in the right direction. "Fill that with the water that isn't forge-grade, then you can finish filling the trough for me." He then goes back to working his trade, not feeling the need to keep an eye on someone moving water, as long as it gets done before he needs it.

Fizzlesnoot gives that puzzled look again when he comes back with another couple bucket fulls of water for the trough. "Alright, I get it." He gets the picture and follows the direction indicator with his gaze and trudges off to fill the stone bowl for Zoyenka from the trough.

"Thank you," Pavel says with a pleased tone as his wishes are fulfilled. Zoyenka herself follows the strange D-Bee up to the bowl, ready and happy to drink. "Just a few more trips for the trough. I have other things that need to be done today."

Fizzlesnoot continues the back and forth, up and down overhead water hoisting, but the number of trips begin to take their toll. By the end he is moving much slower than originally starting out and the buckets aren't lifted so high. When finally both water trough and drinking bucket are full, he sets the buckets down rubbing his shoulders and arms, "You do this every day?"

• FFFFFWWWHHOOOOOOSH* The shovel goes into the trough, quenched close enough to the right time to keep it as a useful tool for a farmer to use down the road. Pavel smiles at his working friend. "Yes, yes. Every day. I know that it seems like water is water, but in a quenching trough metal can spall. This is when small pieces flake off the outer surfaces. These pieces get into the water, which fouls it for other tools," he shrugs. "So yes, it must be emptied at the end of the day, and filled at the beginning. But I have been doing this since I was fourteen, and might be a little stronger than you." A wink is offered, and he says, "Give yourself a moment to catch your breath, Fizzlesnoot. I'm not trying to run you into the ground, just showing you what it's like in my job."

Fizzlesnoot does take the chance to quench his thirst with a canteen of fresh water dug out of his bag, nodding attentively to the explanation of the water use. The water does wonders to rejuvenate him for the next task at hand. Giving his shoulders a rotating stretch, "So what's next?" Clothing wet from the river and the sweat worked up so far.

Allowing himself a moment's stretch, Pavel lays a hand on his friend's shoulder, then points out to the distant boundaries of his meadow, and the ribbon-and-bell-clad treeline. "I'm thinking that I want to make my land a little more personal. I'd like to build stone wall, but I only have large stones. They're back down the gully, six big boulders about.. oh.. probably as big as you are." He bends down and lifts up his hammer. Of course, it's not just a big hammer. It has been gorgeously silvered to a mirror shine, and its handle covered in elegant pictures and embossing. "So please go down and get the boulders, bring them up here outside the forge, to start with. There's some tackle equipment for you to use, if the rocks are too heavy to move all by yourself."

Fizzlesnoot nods, his gaze following his pointing out of things, "Ok, I'll see what I can do. They buried or anything?" he slings the rest of his canteen over his shoulder for later. "I'll grab a shovel now if they are."

"No, no," Pavel says reassuringly. "Just in a bunch on the south bank. I didn't want to leave them laying around here and messing up the look. Go east from where you were going down by about a hundred yards. Can't miss them."

Fizzlesnoot nods and begins his waddle across the field to find the boulders. The finding is easy enough, six boulders roughly as big as he is, now the moving part. Circling the first one to see where he might get a grip to even attempt to lift it, coming to a decision he moves in and attempts to lift it. NOPE. He's not going to carry it, but he does budge it. So he gets behind it and decides to roll it. Digging in he begins his pushing, working hard to guide the odd shaped boulder up the hill of the meadow. He stops to rest and catch his breath on more than a couple of occasions along the way, a sip or two of water in the hot sun, and this is only the first one.

Watching Fizzlesnoot work, Pavel continues to work away on a new tool. As the boulder rolls to a stop near the forge, he offers more words of encouragement. "Good! Thank you, this will be great. You look tired... which is good for the soul, HA! Five more?" His eyes look out at the sky. "You're making good time, my friend. It's almost time to break for lunch. As soon as all the rocks are up here, it'll be time for both of us to rest."

Fizzlesnoot nods, not so cheerfully as when he arrived, but a smile still present. "Be right back," as he trudges back down to the rest of the boulders laying in wait. Working from the farthest to the nearest he rolls the boulders up to the forge. The third one giving him the worst trouble with the odd deformed egg like shape and one squared side. Having to take a small breather after that one. Time rolls on as he toils at his task, struggling more and more as the pile is moved. He is going to be sore tomorrow, and this is only the second task asked of him.

Pavel comes out to help his friend with the last one. "Thanks, thanks. This is great. Okay, take a breather, have some water, find some shade." He himself sets his rear down on a barrel and then opens a nearby drawer, bringing out two neat sandwiches likely from Yakov's Deli. One is offered across the open space. "Not immediately fresh, but very tasty and filling, if you'd like. So what do you think so far? You're doing well for this kind of work on the first day. Any questions? Pointers I might offer before offering them?"

Fizzlesnoot happily accepting the offered sandwich, his appetite surely having been worked up. "Thank you. No questions or pointers or anything. So far just accomplish the task at hand." The creepy little fellow not the most entertaining to watch eating. The small finger like appendages at the edges of his mouth stuffing the food down his gullet as his sharp teeth tear through the food. "What's the next task? So I can psyche myself up for it while I have the comfort of food," he chuckles, tired, but still in good spirits.

Pavel chuckles and hands a coin across to Fizzlesnoot. "Flip it. Heads, rocks. Tails, wood." As he waits for fate to determine future work, he does offer a useful pointer. "I have found that when doing this kind of work, anything that is both repetitive and strong - or just repetitive - it helps to deliberately pace yourself. It's in your mind as much as it is in your limbs. Do you like music?"

Fizzlesnoot takes the coin with a nod, giving it a flip into the air to let land on the ground. "Music is nice, yeah." The coin lands, HEADS. His gaze down on the coin in the dirt. "Rocks it is. So what about music? I didn't bring any headphones or anything."

Pavel stands and starts to reach for some tools. "Music makes this kind of repetitive labor go both faster and easier. It directs your mind to the job, but without your mind dwelling on the job. Not the kind of music you play at the club though," he notes. He starts to snap his fingers at a pace around twice per second. "Something with a slow enough beat like this. Not a big slashing melody, really more of a working tune is all. Even military marches. You hear it, and your muscles move with it. Hammers up and down, feet forward and back... try to find something that works for you, and it will make things easier for you mentally, which helps everything. Now, rocks!" He points to the six boulders. "I said I wanted a wall, but I obviously can't do it with six boulders. I need six boulders to be pounded into small rocks." A hammer that he'd been working on during the rock-rolling is retrieved. A good sledge. "This should work."

Fizzlesnoot accepts the large hammer, happy it's not the big shiny one earlier referenced. "How big of pieces do you want? Roughly." Thinking about what songs he knows that could help pace himself. He likes music, hears it all the time, just not chain gang songs.

The smith thinks for a moment. "About the size of my two fists together." Pavel holds them out to demonstrate the preferred dimensions. Roughly the size of an ancient American football. "Don't rush the job. I don't need a wall today, and I don't think you could get through it right now without being sore. See if you can take just half of one of these big guys down to pieces, I have another job for you, and these rocks will serve us in the future." A big hand happily pats one of the chosen boulders. "Work the hammer like this." His skilled blacksmith's hands demonstrate the angle and motion that provides the full head of a hammer to strike at once. "You'll get used to it as you work."

Fizzlesnoot chuckles a moment looking to the sledge given. "Ya know, lemme have a smaller hammer and chisel, and I'll have stone bricks for you, all uniform in size and shape. I should do ok with this, but probably not as uniformed in shape, and no waste."

Pavel grins. "I appreciate that. But I like the more... ah... 'homey' things. We used rock walls in Kraszny Kut, and it reminds me of home. But I'll remember you, when I do need that kind of detailed skill." He reaches down to grab his absurdly huge hammer, walks toward the indicated boulder, raises the head of the enormous sledge over his head and brings it down neatly. With a loud crack, the boulder splits in two. The hammer is set back, and he grins. "Pick a half, and tear it down for me into those sizes, please."

Fizzlesnoot gives a nod and a wide eyed look at the single swing and split of the Fizzle sized boulder, "Nice split." Moving over to take the place of the big man, running his hand over the boulder before moving into position to start rock splitting. Raising up the hammer, swing, Clink, the sound of metal on stone begins to ring out. Believe it or not, this is something he knows and gets into a rhythm without any noticeable melody to go with it. Little by little, the rock begins breaking down into smaller rocks. when at the correct size, they are stacked neatly aside for later use. Then on to the next, his sweat pouring down, dripping from his odd little face, from the workout of the hammer and stone.

"Eh, when it comes to breaking large stones and such, I'm pretty good," Pavel smiles to Fizzlesnoot's brief praise. Then, as Fizzlesnoot seems to get into a rhythm, he leaves the man to his work - a necessary work - while he goes back to his own smithing. As some hours wear on, he makes sure that the D-Bee has necessary water, though there is certainly a bit held back. You can't always stop for a break, after all. With eyes on both his own work and the rough masonry, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

Fizzlesnoot wipes his brow between swings, "Ok I guess. I know I'm gonna feel it soon as I stop though. The walk home is gonna be a rough one, but I'm not shy of work." Getting back to hammering out his work, "Just gotta keep hydrated is all. It's been a long time since I had to do any hard labor like this. Not since Chi-town. Can't say I miss it."

Pavel smiles, and as the half of the offending boulder has been mostly reduced, he reaches out to take the sledge. "One more job for you today, then some instructions, my friend. Take a rest, have some water." The sledge is hung back on a hook, and he's quiet for little while, allowing the other man to catch his breath. "It's all about pacing yourself. It's endurance, not a sprint, right? Tortoise and the Hare, somewhat. That's some nice stonework, though even if it is rough."

Fizzlesnoot hands over the hammer, downing a good volume of water as he catches his breath, not a good thing to dehydrate yourself working. "Thanks, I know a little about stone work. When you finally can read you can check out my handiwork next to the Ivory Lady statue. I carved the history into a block of granite. So what's next?"

"I didn't know that! How interesting," Pavel says. "I'll wait to read, instead of having you tell be about it. Anyway, for your last task of the day. Anya has been spending most of her time out here. Living here, that is. There's a spot out west there, near the hill, that she started a garden, just some more flowers and vegetables to sell at market. But.. she was tilling, and ran into an old stump." He reaches out to grab the hammer that had been forged only this very morning. "If you would dig it out, please? I have saws too, if you need them."

Fizzlesnoot nods, "Sure thing. Point me to where you keep the shovels and picks and saws." Looking about the area to spot them on his own if possible, "I'll get right on it."

Pavel waves the shovel he'd grabbed, then realizes that he'd grabbed a hammer. "Whoops," he says sheepishly, trading it out for the correct tool. It is now held out, and Fizzlesnoot is pointed to an area where various types of saws hang from steel pegs. "Whatever you need. Remember, it's a long haul, not a sprint. I'm going to finish up here, then head over to keep you company."

Fizzlesnoot gathers the required tools from the wall and waddles his way down to the garden to take care of that stump. First he begins to dig out as much as he can from around the stump, exposing as much of the roots that he can. With a hatchet he chops the smaller roots free from the dirt, the bigger ones he works at with the saw. Even if he wanted to sprint at it, the day is wearing on him. He is filthy with dirt and grime, the heat of the day keeping the sweat pouring full tilt.

Back at the forge, Pavel has been humming along one of his labor songs, a good even pace. Then rather suddenly the coals blast into white-hot flames, and his steady pace becomes a sewing-machine quick flurry of blows followed rapidly by another *FFFFWHHHOOOOOSSHHHH* of being quenched. "HA!" comes a loud cry, though not followed by anything more. The fire dies down as the sun starts to go down, and he moves toward Anya's garden and the offending stump. In a small bag, he carries a few oranges and other citrus fruits. "Looks great, Fizzlesnoot. Pause for a second, have an orange. It's good for the muscles."

Fizzlesnoot has been working meticulously to take out the stump in one piece, bits of the thicker roots are piled neatly together off to the side, as if being saved for something. A wave to Pavel as he approaches, and a much appreciated break is accepted. Not even peeling the orange, the small D-bee just bites right into it and sucks the juice from the fruit, though it looks as if most of it is actually dribbling down his chin.

Pavel can't help but make a face. Not disgusted, just really, really weird. "Anya would never approve," he comments with a light laugh. Nodding with his chin toward the wood, he asks, "Firewood for a grand bonfire at the club? That would certainly be interesting advertising!" He does peel his own orange and enjoys the texture. "You're doing great out here, Fizzlesnoot. When that stump's cut free and out, I'll give you some instructions, then let you go - if you want - to nurse the muscles and pray that they heal overnight."

Fizzlesnoot enjoys his orange break, "What do you mean Anya won't approve? What I do wrong?" Glancing to the stump and the big smith. "Oh, and not firewood, for carving. In my spare time, when I get spare time. The club keeps me busy, hosting, bartending, managing. I'm glad I have a staff to help out now. It was getting rough doin it all by myself."

"Oh. A good staff, yes. I could use a paige around here, a little up-and-coming smith, should a young one become available and interested," Pavel says. He then makes a bit of a pulling-scratching motion down from his lips to his chest. "The dribbling. Anya wouldn't be rude, but she might giggle. Quite the woman, indeed. She knows how to show a guy a good time, how to be shown a good time, how to work hard and how to be classy, too. I'm lucky to have found her." He leans conspiratorially close and lowers his voice. "I had been thinking of moving on, because of some things that happened recently. Thought that Kingsdale wasn't the place for me. But... " he looks around the meadow " ... she is a good reason to stay. Now, when you're done, let's get that stump out. I'll pull, you dig."

Fizzlesnoot chuckles at his dribbling, "I'm used to it, never even think much of it. No wonder people move when I'm eating out at a restaurant. Ok, back to work." Getting up with one last swig of water and back to work he goes, this time with the help of the big guy. Little guy digging and cutting roots, the big guy pulling and ripping.

It's very likely that Pavel could have simply grabbed the stump and pulled it out without tools, but for now, he only helps by providing enough tension on it that the effect of each blow, cut and dig is magnified. Like cutting a taut rope versus a slack rope. Giving Fizzlesnoot more and more time, it eventually gives way with a crack nearly as loud as that of the stone being split. He falls back, catching himself before keeling over completely. "HA!" He chuckles and sets the stump aside. "Great work! So, catch your breath again. You can have the stump of you'd like."

Fizzlesnoot smiles broadly as the stump cracks loudly as it gives way to freedom. "Thanks, that helped quite a bit." Wiping the sweat from his odd little round head, strange inner eyelids acting as windshield wipers clearing the grit from his eyes when it was kicked up by the stump. "Thanks, I was gonna ask if you wanted it." He looks like he had a rough day, but has a look of pride on his face now that it is done.

Pavel bobs his head and pushes the stump aside like a tumbleweed. "It's yours, and you can come back with the truck if you want it. Or maybe I could carry it to town with you." He thinks about that for a while, but moves on, easing himself into a comfortable crouch, hand ready to help Fizzlesnoot out of the hole if necessary. "Okay, so. If you're going to learn to work like this, I'm going to ask for your help." He points to the wide perimeter of his meadow. "With the wall."

Fizzlesnoot nods happily. Tired, but happily. "Sounds good. So what, start on that tomorrow bright and early?" Swigging down some water, gaze following along the perimeter of the meadow. "So how high and wide do ya want to lay it out."

"I don't want to rush into it. I want you to get used to the slow pace of constant work like this," Pavel explains in Russian. "So, I'm going to go and break the rest of those boulders in half. Tomorrow, just rest and let your muscles recover - you're going to be sore." Yes, perhaps there's a little smirk in there; good-natured, but a smirk. "I'll be here every day, I imagine, working on my own work. But I want you to come by every day, and each day break down one of the half-boulders into those same size rocks. So eleven days, twelve with the day of rest. If you need another day of rest, take it, but don't go easy on yourself." His eyes roam to the perimeter of his meadow again. "When you've broken down all of the boulders, you and I will work together to put up the stone wall, and when that's done? Well, I guess we'll see how you feel! Now, do you want me to bring the stump along, or leave it here? Or are you staying around?" He scratches his chin, managing to rub a little dirt of his own onto his body to go along with the soot from the forge. At least in the forge, he has an apron.

Fizzlesnoot shakes his head, "No no, I'll manage. Might as well keep going until I get home. If I stop now, my joints are gonna all seize up on me. It shouldn't be that heavy, just awkward. Thank you though. Oh, I didn't tell you. I sold the van. Tek bought it and made it into a tow truck for his shop."

"Oh. I didn't know that.. guess the staff moves things for you now?" Pavel gets to his feet. "So, day of rest, half a boulder per day, then a wall? Sound good?"

Fizzlesnoot nods, "Sounds good to me, can't wait to see it when we're finished." Brushing himself off to prepare for the long walk home.

Pavel gives his friend a pat on the back. "Then I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Maybe I'll drop by the club tonight on the way to Anya's. Gotta finish up a plate for another guy though before I can close up for the night. Good work, Fizzlesnoot, and thanks for filling the trough." He offers an amused wink. "Zoyenka thanks you, too." He's then on his way back to the bellows and coals of the forge.