short of a load. This has been said about me in my obsession with bricks, brick yards and old pottery stuff. I live near the Welland Canal. The canal was built to take ships around Niagara Falls from Lake Ontario to Lake Erie, so they could go on up the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes is one the most majestic systems of water in the world. Well if you're going to dig a canal chances are there will be an abundance of clay and in that day and age that meant lots of brick yards. I befriended an old brick yard owner that after a few drinks would spin yarns about crawling into the chimney of the big bee hive and firing a shot gun up the stack to get the draft going. He also recalled throwing tin cans in the fire box to get black bricks. Here are a couple of the bird houses he had the men make at the sewer tile yard at a time when plastic was entering the scene and he didn't want to lay the men off. I also use an old banding wheel from the old Foster Potteries in Milton for spraying my pots outside. Don't laugh at my attempt at a prairie garden in an old sagger. It is all weeds now and Sheila has given up on me as a gardener. I'd really rather have a motorcycle.
I bought this pile of bout 300 bricks from a refractory company in receivership. I had plans of building a small salt kiln or pizza oven. It ain't about to happen. If anyone out there wants them I'll sell them for a buck a piece. Hard bricks that I figured could be filled with ash or vermiculite for insulation. They interlock and are high duty.
