As I finish cleaning the portable BBQ, seal up the last of the dinner scraps (raccoons have been nosing around a LOT lately) and watch the citronella torches flicker, it’s time to fire up the laptop, read a little of today’s news and blog about what’s going on here. It’s easier to do when a lot has been accomplished during day. Which it was!
I thought I would tell you a little more about this project, born when I dug up the time capsule Rich buried in 1952. He had put together complete specifications about what this house would look like, as well as the technologies that went into its design. It’s a small, compact design, but looks like it will be very comfortable and most importantly, self-sufficient and totally off the grid. Rich made it very clear in the letter to me that he sealed in the ammo box, that this house must be constructed to last, and to live off the electric and sanitation grid. As I look around the property it’s on, and think more about what I know Rich went through, I’ve come to conclusions that I thought I’d float here.
Rich traveled, bodily, from December, 2008 to 1933. According to the journals he put in the ammo box time capsule, in 1935, he traveled to August of this year. I’m building a house for him to stay in during that trip. He’ll be here for several days, and the house is so he, Molly and Samantha can have some time together. Though he won’t know it at the time (I’m assuming), he’ll be going back to the thirties and will be there, except for some side trips to other times, for the following two decades. He makes a trip in 1952 to later this month (July, 2009), and from the information in the ammo box, he uses that trip to San Diego, to convince Molly and Samantha to meet his younger self here in August. THAT’S why I need to have the house finished by then. His visit here is of longer duration, and he’s asked me to be here with them. I do know that he gets back to the early 50s for long enough to put together and bury the instructions I dug up a few weeks ago. He clearly had time to prepare the area as well, since a lot of the woods were planted about that time. I didn’t notice at first, but upon closer inspection, it became plain to see that this mini-forest was planted with fairly fast-growth hardwoods that in 50 years created an excellent source of renewable timber that would provide homesteading resources like building materials and firewood for decades.
Interesting, isn’t it?
In Rich’s notes, and earlier posts, he talks about making trips to the future, and how physically uncomfortable it is. I have a gut feeling that he’s been there quite a bit. One of the items in the ammo box, I still haven’t been able to identify. It’s about the size of a thumb drive, but completely smooth and a little warm to the touch. I have no idea at all what it is, but can tell you when I put it next to a compass, the needle goes crazy. It doesn’t react magnetically to any kind of metal, but it makes compasses go spin madly. I think Rich got it from the future, and I’m sure he put it in the ammo box for a reason.
Here’s what I think this is all about:
I think Rich is preparing to take care of his family in the difficult days that are coming. I don’t know how much time he’s going to get to spend here, but I think the house is for Molly and Samantha, because I think he knows something about the west coast that he’s not telling, and he’s building an “ark” for his family to weather some kind of storm. Not a storm of the rain and wind variety, but one of the economic / social variety. It’s not the details of this project that tell me that, however, it’s his zeal in getting it done. The letter in the ammo box is very direct and imploring. “Get this done for me,” he says.
So I will.
