I finished the stonework of the Rumford fireplace to the ceiling of the living room and with the tapers coming in we took the scaffolding down to give them room to work unobstructed with their spackle and their stilts. Then came the painters with at least the primer and first coat on the sheetrock surrounding the room, our stone fireplace and chimney, the showcase.

Brian, the owner, is anxious to have something look complete, even if it is not, and to see the inside of his living room look remotely livable will be immediately gratifying even if the chimney ends in his attic!

We will get there. But for now, to make the room look presentable and to move our dirty mason ways out of the ever-refining environment, we focused on pulling together the strings of details to call it “finished,” and we organized a couple days after the first coat of paint dried to get ‘er done. Well, at least to the attic.

First, we put up the scaffolding again and I mixed a six-to-one Muriatic mason wash and scrub-brushed down the hand-cut stone face while Garcia ran the shop-vac to pick up the water, especially during the rinse cycle. The stone began to look sharp and dynamic with the film of our exertions removed with the acid and I remembered as I worked -- don’t get that stuff on your hands and hold your breath. We washed it all down, and firebrick firebox too, and I gave Brian his instructions, “Get that molding up so we have something to run the pointwork to and seal this thing up so you might be able to pass your negative air-pressure-seal-your-house-like-a-drum-test.” (Something makes me ill-at-ease with these super sealed environments the government demands these days. Even though I live inside a stone house, which is pretty tight, right?; 22 inches thick and all, I sleep with the sky-lights above my bed wide open right through winter and, well, maybe not during a bona fide blizzard.)

We went home and made honey and got ready for the garlic festival and when the molding was up I got a call to return.

The next step was the point work, and we mixed up a fine batch of limestone white mortar in the Hudson Valley tradition of pointwork. Frequently, people ask me the formula for the mortar mix, and, at first, when I answer, “If I told you, I would have to kill you,” they just don’t believe me, so I persist, “This mix is protected by the Guilds of the Hanseatic League and if I let it slip, I am in danger of being banned from the Guild.” Now most people have heard of the Hanseatic League, but they are not quite sure what it is, and if this is a real thing, or now, in this present age, nor exactly where Hanseatic is, or if there is a Hanseatic something at all, so they drop the subject not wanting to seem stupid, which is just fine with me. But the recipe is, like Toll House cookies, on the back of every package, if you look carefully.

I pointed half of the stack in one day and I convinced Brian to keep the mortar damp overnight, or at least until he went to bed, by giving it a fine mist once an hour, every hour, to retard the drying time and help prevent the mortar from cracking.

The pointing was completed on our next visit, and all cleaned up, and I have to say the pointwork really highlights the great mix of stone we worked hard to produce last spring and now we are on to the hearth, the bluestone slab and old brick hearth, which needs to get in before the hard wood floor guys arrive. Piece of cake.