Bespoke Shoes and Boots

I appreciate quality handcraft. Not the funny pottery you find at Saturday markets, no I am talking about the fruit of a master craftsman’s hands: A perfectly out of proportion tatsu chest, a bespoke suit jacket, an art nouveau mirror, stained glass, brazed bicycle lugs, quality tanned and stitched leather, a hand-bound book, a teak and brass campaign desk, laminated steel knives, a sharp chisel, a fine motorcycle, beech moulding planes, Victorian ironwork, etc…

I have drug my wife into more stores and museums than I could ever count, just to look at a piece or snap a few pictures of an obscure detail. She puts up with it because she both loves me and has a tiny bit of the same fever as I do: she inspects seams and refuses to buy “cheap” cloths if they are not made well. Every now and then I get to sample the wears, caress a bit of dovetailed wood perfection or buy a little piece of hand-made love. The experience usually is the highlight of my trip.

We were in San Francisco a month or so ago, getting our visa’s for France, and after dinner one night we just happened upon a store window filled with treasure!  There were tailored jackets, tiny toddler-sized suits, amazing hand made leather boots, hats, and vests. There were shoe-making foot forms in the window corners and a small wooden sign stating without ego or fanfare, “Al’s Attire. Custom Tailoring. North Beach.” I was in lust and took pictures of all the windows, of the sign, the address, and the cross street. We had an appointment the next day, but we were going back when the shop was opened. Stamps-With-Foot mentioned seeing the shop to a friend who lives in that Bay Area later that evening and her nonplused response was, “Yeah, there are pretty famous, you should stop in.”

Because of a scheduling win, we were there when they opened the next morning. It was a dark, shop that smelled of leather and wool, with dark corners, exposed brick, 100 year old working sewing machines, sunshine beaming through the windows, a resident puggle, and the most amazing wares. I showed up just wanting to buy a hat maybe and take some pictures… Then I saw the place, smelled it, felt the wooden shoe forms, and I turned into the adolescent who saw boobies for the first time. The shoes and boots were all individually and as a group calling to me. I took picture after picture and then we meet Sarah… She is part of the sales & design team at Al’s and with one look and a sweet manner, up sold me from a flat driving cap to a pair of bespoke buffalo hide wingtip dress boots. I regret nothing!

“Have a seat, we’ll measure you. “It only takes a little while.” “Yes, those ARE beautiful boots.” “Of course we can do a triple layer sole…”

It has begun..

My wife first words in French: “May I have a glass of red wine?”

My wife’s second phrase spoken in French the next day: “I would like a glass of the hot spiced wine.”

First declaration about our temp apartment in the heart of Toulouse: “HA! They have a wine opener!”

At lunch: “What!? I am in France, I can feed my puppy duck breast from the table if I want.”

There is a theme in there somewhere….

Almost there

We are almost French residents.

There was sun and left-over snow on the ground when we left Seattle. We made the 9 hour Amsterdam flight without issue and are sitting in the KLM lounge waiting for our Toulouse flight. The sun rose as we were landing and gave us a spectacular show for our first morning as nouveau European: the whole new beginning theme seemed appropriate. Brodie was a CHAMP and slept through the whole flight. Stamps-With-Foot had to clear customs and go outside the airport for his potty break because he REFUSES to potty under a roof. Such a good boy! At this very instant my cute wife is taking his picture to post on Facebook. Today happens to be his birthday and he has been promised steak for dinner…

Off to France we go…

Holy Jiminie-Joe-Bob it has busy around La Maison du Talley! We finally got the green light from the French authorities for our work and residence visas. A week later, the movers showed up, packed our place and loaded most of our possessions onto truck that drove away, hopefully to be seen sometime again in February/March in Toulouse.

We have a list two pages long of stuff to get done before we take our flight around the first of December. Yard work, paint touch up, moving The Nana, small fixes at the house, selling vehicles, etc…

Speaking of the last point: I FVCKING hate car dealers. For me, they rank right up there with lawyers, who hand out cards at accident scenes. You walk in the door of a dealership and you are a mark, like a rube in the big city for the first time. Big smiles and hand shakes, innocent questions, a free coffee or coke, all to gauge how much they will be removing from your wallet. No matter how informed you are of how much research you do, you will be bargaining from a position where they hold all the cards. This is doubly so when trading a vehicles.

We are trying to sell my truck preparation for our move and I want to strangle someone a little. Because of our time table, a private party sale is not going to happen, so we have to take the dealer route. The first dealer I went to offered me $16K for my 20 month old truck and had the identical model on his lot for $23.5K. Even with fees, he stood to make 7 grand on the deal!?!!

I get it. Everyone is in business to make money, but come on… Hate car dealers.

Our dog is better traveled than some of the people we know

Brodie took his first flight this week – a training flight for the Seattle to Toulouse journey that is coming up. Stamps-With-Foot has made the proper arrangements for him to fly in the cabin with us and we wanted to both see how he would do and practice dealing with his needs as well. She packed his bag the night before and included snacks, his sock-monkey bed, sweaters, etc. He looked suspiciously at the luggage tag with his picture on it more than once.

On the day of the flight, he did better than us in the taxi on the way to the airport – I wonder if they teach drivers in Seattle Taxi school the proper break/gas/break/gas/break stomp technique or if you have to take a pre-test for making passengers car sick before you can qualify for a hack license. One of life’s little mysteries….

Brodie did great at the security checkpoint and was fine right up until we went into the jet-bridge: he decided it was then time to crawl into his mommy’s lap and then into the sweater with her – she had to carry him to our seats. Both the flight attendants and the passengers around us liked the shit out of him! Everyone was all smiles, like the ones the ladies in my office get when someone brings in a new baby.

He was a little nervous during take-off, but settled down into the monkey bed and took a nap.. The drugs from the vet probably helped with that. He napped most of the way and a had a little snack of airline cheese and salami – airline food for dinner. Brodie really didn’t like the landing! We came in a little fast and there were some bumps; he was not amused.

Brodie did great in the city, down at the wharf, in City Lights Books, at lunch he sat quietly under the table, and was even OK in Chinatown, but we had to pick him up a few times because of the crowds.  All and all it was a successful trial run and we learned not to get him high too soon, to plan airport potty breaks and to get a luggage cart (no matter how much it goes against my grain) as trying to manage a roller bag, a shoulder bag, and a puppy on a leash is somewhat nerve wracking.

Update 12/5/13:

Brodie has now been to Amsterdam and has flown into France to become an official French resident. For Christmas, he is going to Germany. He needs his own travel blog, but it would mostly feature places he napped, food that was handed to him under the table, and good spots to pee on.

Home Again

I got home from another Toulouse trip (third in 3 months) on Friday and after my sweet wife picked me up at the airport, we headed to a local BBQ joint for Brisket. I had read in a cast off magazine I found in the Amsterdam Sky Lounge about the 10 best places to find BBQ in Texas that made my mouth water. Seriously, Pavlov-esq. It was all I could think about for 5400 miles.

We ordered a full pound, the sweet sauce and a square of cornbread to take home and go all caveman on. It was not slow-smoked Hill Country perfect, but it scratched an itch.

After dinner, there was puppy play time – rough housing and fetch, Stamps-With-Foot and I watched a little TV, there was singling and the I passed out for the best sleep in 6 nights. It was so good that I slept late and with the jet lag – it felt like I had been out for 20 hours. It was only 9, but it felt so good to be home and in my own bed with my own pillow, warm wife, and snoring puppy.

Went to C&P Coffee with wife for brunch
Stayed 4 hours – finished book
Halloween costume shopping at Goodwill & St. Vinson DePaul.
Wrote a couple of letters to family
Chinese for dinner
A little TV watching.
I heart Barnie Stenson.
Finished book I got for my B-day
Said “thank you” again to wife
Passed out

Special breakfast of coffee and Apple pie tarts Sunday morning
iPad decided to imitate a brick
Said curse words until I remembered I did a cloud backup Friday night
Not as unhappy
Cleaned and refilled hottub- Winter is coming
Top of cover was GRODY
Wife helped clean. Wore a bikini and a sweater.
Have learned the hard way not to ask questions…
Put most of garden to bed for winter – no hot houses this year.
Stamps-With-Foot had hair appointment
I remained calm and begged her not to shave it all off
I went over to my mothers for dinner
Chocolate chip cookies for an appetizer, Frito Pie as a main course, cranberry juice to drink, and chocolate cheesecake for desert
Like it was 8 again
Came home and fired up the hottub. A piping 59 degrees by 10 PM.
Might have to wait till tomorrow night to get in…
Wife came home… Hair looked great.
Sigh of relief.
Told her repeatedly how pretty it was and ‘thank you’ for not chopping it off
Watched 10-12 movie trailers – don’t judge me!!
Off to bed.

My search for the perfect little black notebook

Ever since Dr. Shipman converted me to Moleskine notebooks many years ago during a climbing trip, I have coveted little black notebooks to record my thoughts, doodles, designs, to-do lists, etc… I drank the Kool-Aid and now I share a little “problem” with what seems to be a quarter of the world’s population: finding the perfect notebook.

The Moleskine was great for a couple of years, but they do not work great for fountain pens, the binding is lackluster, and I wanted some paper different options. Thus began my hunt for the perfect little black notebook. I have used Field Notes, Moleskine (pocket, large & cahiers), Blank Books, Knox-Japan (only sold in Japan and France), Pocket Blanks, Gallery Leather, Rhodia, Guildhall, No Names, Rite in the Rain, Piccadilly, Leuchtturm 1917, etc… Some have been great and some have come apart within weeks. I have fallen for the paper of the Rhodia and love the Leuchtturm format – dots, page numbers, and index. The Moleskine blank sketchbook has great paper, but not enough of it – I also keep busting the binding. The Leuchtturm’s paper will bleed a little, even when using an EF nib – as will most everything but the 90# Rhodia. The Gallery Leather has tear-off corners, but no page numbers and I can split the spine on a Webbook without even trying. In the last ten years I have come to decide that no one journal works for me for everything.  Here is my current quiver of little black notebooks:

Knox-Japan A5: calendar and work notes/design
Gallery Leather: pocket notebook
Leuchtturm or Rhodia A5 Dots: Travel Journal

I am still looking for a 90g, acid free, sewn binding 32-64 page A5 Cahiers for everything but my pocket notebook, which I would switch to a 3″X6″ sewn Cahier.  I would prefer to have single signature/section, using them up before they were utterly destroyed, and I would like to have the ability to bind then together if the mood were to ever strike.

Campaign Furniture Love and Build

I am a sucker for campaign furniture – the real stuff not the 1970’s MDF, lime green crap with cheapo plated straps and corners applied. Nope, I am talking about furniture that could have been broken down and loaded in a wagon, put on a mule, or strapped to a camel and toted around the world to reside in an officer’s tent in the high mountains of the Hindu Kush, the plains of the Ganges, or on the savannas of the Rift Valley. There is a single modern volume – now out of print – that I have checked out of the local library (through inter-library loan) 4 times and have scanned it in it’s entirety. I also have a 19th century catalog that is printed on pulp paper and completely falling apart that I peruse a good bit. I have even planned a couple of days off while traveling around seeing particular pieces and collections: there is a small shop in the Charleston, SC antique district that I spent hours in and while in London last year I found a shop that I wanted to move into. To tempt me even more, I have read rumors that Chris Schwartz, author of The Anarchist’s Tool Chest, is working on a new book and I am vibrating with anticipation.

There is a bit of both romance and leisurely comfort when one spends time afield surrounded by real furniture. I have a couple of original pieces, but they were dear enough that they cannot leave the house and won’t be spending any time glamping with us in the summer or in a high-country elk camp. Instead, I have been working on some modern versions that can be thrown in the back of a truck, hauled at high speed down goat trails, and opened up like Optimus Prime to reveal stout, useful, pleasing furniture. I have a source for solid wood shipping crates of different sizes that I have cut, stained, altered, and added to for this purpose. The limiting factor in all of this, is that every single piece has to break down, or fold up so that everything together fits in the bed of a small truck: 4’X6′

Right now, I have the cast iron cookware box, a candle box, 2 small tables, and a field desk done. I am 90% done with the wet bar (you NEED booze while glamping…) and an oil lamp/lantern box. The camp kitchen is in work, but will not be near complete or usable by the time we move. I have also designed a linen trunk, small chest of drawers, and a full-sized bed, but these haven’t even been started. The Campaign Furniture build is an on-going task and I hope to finish it all while we are in France. We are actually contemplating using it to furnish our guest room there.

The Ruminator’s Summer Visit – 2013

My son will turn 13 this winter – I feel so old. He came out to Seattle this summer for a visit and I was able to take the whole time off from work due to our pending move and the prep involved. We had the best time together and I can only hope and pray that as he ascends/descends into adolescence that our summers and time together are at least half as good as this summer was.

He is at the age where he is starting to take direction well and can stay on-task for a bit, so I put his little butt to work. We had a mountain of stuff to get done before we leave for France and his extra set of hands was incredibly helpful. We shopped for steel fence and stair rail, installed a speak-easy in the front door, cut and primed two stair rails, I taught him how to used an HVLP spray-gun to paint furniture, we stained table legs, used the router, he learned the first steps in using a wood lathe (he helped make his own carving mallet and made his mother a honey dipper turned from European beech), and he helped me measure, mark and chisel hinge pockets in the kitchen cabinet doors. My toe-headed son helped dig the two 18″ holes for the front entry stair rail, dug a hole up front, outside the fence, and helped replant a root-bound rosemary there. Since he was in mole-mode, we went into the back yard and he helped dig the hole for a new receptacle and motion light power pole near the back fence. We then squared and leveled the pole, braced it, ran conduit for the wire, and mixed & poured concrete. It was a long day and he was a tired little puppy after the digging and concrete work. I guarantee that he slept like a rock that night – I did.

The Ruminator also learned about how to properly use hand planes this summer – he loved them. Left to his own devises, he would sit in the shop for hours banging away on scrap with the chisels and making piles and piles of long, curly, paper thin wood shavings. He was channeling Roy Underhill and I was so proud!

It wasn’t all work though – I am not a slave-driver. There were bike rides, visits to the park and the beach, movies at the theatre and on the iPad, Austin Powers and South-park voice impressions (much to Stamps-With-Foot’s dismay), ukulele playing around the fire pit, and he is probably the first kid in his hometown to have ever been indoor skydiving.

Knotted “survival bracelets” are popular right now and the one we tied up last year is now too small or was unraveled and used on some woodland adventure, I’m sure. We stopped at Home Depot on the way home from some outing and he picked out the paracord color and stainless steel shackle. We sat in the back yard with Stamps-With-Foot, chatting with a family friend while I tied a new bracelet. It fit perfectly and he beamed with gratitude. This was the summer that the Ruminator went to his very first Major League Baseball game – Mariners vs. The Red Socks – and had the whole hot dog/roasted peanut experience. We had great seats 23rows up on the first base line and the Mariners won. I was so happy to be there with him and it made my heart happy to see his face shine when a bat made contact and sent a ball into the outfield.

Probably the highlight of his trip though (for him) was when we went to the Washington Gathering of the Clans and he got a sword. A shiny steel Viking sword. Thinking back to when I was 12, I would have given up anatomy for a sword! I would have slaughtered vegetation, hacked fruit and veggies gruesomely, sheared branches, cut myself at least twice, tried to wear it to school, and gotten into some semi-serious trouble of some sort before my blade would have been taken away and put in that unknown place in my parent’s house from which there was no return – propped up next to my first pellet gun, beside that awesome surgical tubing slingshot, and near that box full of fire crackers. Anyways, I made him promise, not to do what I would have surely done – we will see how that works out. I bet he spent his first week back twirling the thing around like a mini blond Conan – to the annoyance of his mother.

He has been promised that if he does well in school and minds to a considerable degree, doesn’t act up in class, and helps around the house, he will get to fly to France for the summer next year. It is an amazing opportunity and I am looking very forward to showing my son France and Europe! Hiking, cycling, road trips, climbing, food, culture, language, all of it!

Getting ready for our move to France – first round

We/I have some serious work to do before we move to France for two years and we have a list of stuff that needs to happen. Here is the initial “to-do” post:

The Lawn:
The Nana is going to be moving into our house and will be puttering around the yard, planting flowers and the like, but there is no way that she will be pruning trees, cutting the lawn, weed eating, edging, or pulling pine needles out of the gutters. There is a little time, so we have contracted a crew to start taking are of the lawn now so that any kinks will be worked out.

In the spirit of full disclosure, the timing of this yard work transition was set into full motion only when my lawnmower blew up. Really, really – kaboom! As in there was a silver dollar-sized hole in the side of the piston housing and oil spewed everywhere. Right up until that moment the lawn caed transition was just a good idea. After it died, I threw it in the back of the truck, so it wouldn’t leak anymore oil on my grass and called the lawn service. There were a couple of things after their 1st visit, that I would like done differently, but on the whole, so far so good.

Projects:
The Kitchen HAS TO BE COMPLETED. I have stopped working on my Basement of Doom, the Campaign Camping Furniture, wood turning and a couple of refinish projects until the kitchen is complete. I will work down from there and not take on ANY new projects. I have two chests of drawers and a Duncan Phyfe Table that I want to complete and sell so that I am not storing them.

Shop:
I hate my table saw. I am going to out the beast on Craig’s List along with my contractor’s saw (Just collects spiders and sawdust), 12″ band-saw, small joiner, small drill press and the miter-box saw. None of them will work in France (50Hz vs. 60Hz power issues), so I can’t take’em with me. They are all old and have had a good life with me. It is time that I pass them on to new homes where they will see less use and live out their golden years making soapbox derby cars and bird feeders. I am planning to use any money made to invest in both some quality carving chisels and I will save part for the down payment on all new, cabinet shop-quality, power tools when we return to the US.

I can’t not build stuff, so I am taking the Anarchist’s Tool Chest route and am taking a rebuilt an old ammo/tool box (see evolution in pictures below) into a more useful tool travel case and will then show up in France with planes (22 of them), carving knives, mallets, hand saws, chisels, etc… The plan is to make smaller more detailed items, mostly by hand, while I am there (I will be sourcing a lathe and doing some bowl work though…).

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Some Big News…

So… My J-O-B has made us an offer that is very hard to refuse: a two year stint in the south of France and they will fly us home 3 times a year. We get to keep our house and I get to come back to my job in Seattle when that period ends. THE SOUTH OF FRANCE!! Warm weather, amazing wine, spectacular cheese, lavender, honey, the French vacation plan. We would be living outside of Toulouse – the third largest city in France. It sits at the foot of the Pyrenees Mountains, is an hour from the coast, has one of the 10 best Saturday markets in Europe (so says the interwebs), and has more sunshine in 6 weeks of summer than Seattle has all year. We are so freaking doing this!

There is some red tape that we have to cut through, namely a work permit. Since around 27% of the French population under 30 is out of work, getting a permit right now, even in the aerospace field, is tres difficile. Fingers crossed. If this happens, then The Nana will move into La Maison du Talley, pay the utilities, and keep the zombie horde away. Visualize a sweet grandmother rocking away on the front porch with a shotgun across her lap. Add a Marlboro hanging from the corner of her mouth and you will have an accurate picture of The Nana.

I will miss my shop and my yard for those two years, but I will plug the hole in my heart with Cote du Rhone, Comte, a day trip or 6 to the Mediterranean coast, weekends in Paris/Rome, sunshine, and a yearly vacation to Morocco. I will be taking a chest of hand tools and am planning on making some small detailed pieces while there. I also plan on scouring the flea markets over that two year period for planes, chisels, and joinery tools.

Stamps-With-Foot is not concerned about logistics or housing or much of anything other than “How is Brodie going to handle that long flight?!” She feels that we will be taking Brodie back to ancestral homeland and has spent some amount of time talking to the dog about this possibility – trying to get him psyched about the proposition…