When we were in Seattle in June, My mom gave me these two pictures. In the first she is a year old and her older sisters took her to school to have her picture made while they were taking yearbook shots – it was at small country school and in a different time… The second is from when she was 5. I now have one in my office and one downstairs on our family picture wall. I am really proud to have them and that they are out and not filed away in a box somewhere.
My mom drug me all over Texas as a kid; visiting antique markets, flea markets, auction houses, garage sales, junk shops, etc… I hated it at first, but more and more, I would find some cool old nick-knacks, books, or a tool that would make the trip worth it. I think my dad made her take me along so she would not be tempted to buy out every shop. I had side deals with both of them: to rat mom out and keep my mouth shut when Daddy asked about the amount spent. It was a lucrative arrangement and usually netted me $10 a weekend in hush money and my father would slide me a Verboten Sneakers Bar under the table for tidbits of information. As I got older, I became my mother’s pack mule – training that my wife now truly appreciates!
My first sword came from a garage sale and was a rusty WW1 Cavalry saber that I defeated entire imaginary armies with, became a pirate, an Arthurian knight, a samurai, a ninja, a Jedi, and was Teddy Roosevelt leading the charge up San Juan Hill! As a note, that hill was a mound of dirt pushed up by a dozer at a construction site, but it didn’t matter to my 9-year-old self. I now look back with fond memory on all the bits and bobbles that came home with me from that time and those early trips into the dusty corners of market stalls has left me with a love of the same. I hope that when I retire from my J-O-B to have my own little Rag and Bone shop of furniture and antiques to while away my time in.
For now, anytime I travel, I try to take a couple of hours to explore the local markets. I have spent hours roaming, looking, haggling and bargaining in market districts from Berlin to Paris, Marrakesh, New York, Tokyo, Abu Dhabi, Tel Aviv, London, Belfast, Beijing, Hong Kong, Montreal, Calcutta, New Delhi, Los Angeles and so many points in-between.
I just returned from China where had a little time in Xi’an and Chengdu to do some wandering and I found a few treasures to bring home and some that stayed right where they were… Some of the offerings included:
Wooden and stone beads
Cabinet Hardware
Brass statues
Corn and honey sweet treats
Bamboo chop-sticks that were made right there in the stall (~10 cents a pair)
Human skull caps (stayed at the market!)
Teapots
Hand bells
Military Surplus
Old Suitcases
Musical Instruments
Dried fruit and nuts
Polished turtle shells
Go game pieces
Furniture
Fans
Paintings
Silk
Reproduction coins
Terra Cotta Figures
Chinese calligraphy paintings
Religious mementos
Animal horn combs
20 different poses of Buddha
Porcelain dishes and bowls
Wood Carvings
Old books
I spent a few days in Paris working and got into the center of the city one afternoon. The positive side of cyber commuting: I can work from a cramped little cube/office, from my sun-filled home office, or from a street cafe across from Notre Dame in Paris…
We have a house in a small, ancient (as in Roman) village outside of Toulouse. It is all ready and waiting for us. The only problem is that the house is completely empty. No stuff, no where. Our kitchen things and bed are being sent to us via an air shipment sometime in December and we will be able to move in as soon as that happens. In the meantime, we rented a small apartment in the heart of old Toulouse on a street that was laid out in 1164. Our place is full of hand-hewn timbers and exposed brick archways, and sits in the gate-house of a block of homes built between 1200-ish and 1840. There are two small court yards, two Victorian water-pumps near our door and in the brick causeway, and there are still iron rings in the brick once used for tying up horses. Very cool.
We are also walking distance from most of the inner-city sites and churches, and we have found a VERY yummy bakery just up the street. Stamp-With-Foot stops every few feet to take pictures and marvel. She loves Toulouse!
A few pictures of our new home in the French countryside and small shots from around the village.
Fall will be on us in a couple of weeks and this has been a fairly productive garden year, though not quite as bountiful as last year. I blame it on my travel schedule since the weather this year has been fantastic. We have less tomatoes, but a bunch of corn – 40+ stalks that are a week or so away from harvesting. A huge running squash plant, but only a few actual squash – it should have nipped it. Since rhubarb and Swiss chard are disgusting weeds that I feel has no place in my garden, the two plants that my lovely wife planted are going gang-busters…
The crows found the cherry trees up front and within two days ate EVERY single cherry – green or otherwise, and left pits scatted about the lawn to taunt me. Grumble, grumble, grumble… A particular squirrel found our raspberries & thorn-less blackberries and our harvest was cut by 50% or so. We grew TWO LEMONS!! Total cost for time, the tree, energy to keep it alive for two winters, water, etc.., means that my lemons are worth $500 each. The Apple trees are healthy and we have a few apples – we need more bees. The fig did well and we are going to plant it in a sunny spot in the front. No blueberries to speak of. We will plant our two Sunshine verities along the side of the south front fence and see how they do for the next couple of years.
On the flower front, we are awash in dahlias and lilies and poppies. The kitchen and bathroom have been filled almost all summer with various cuttings. Stamps-With-Foot is giddy about her progression from plant murderer (she once killed a jade plant… How do you kill jade?!) into a budding flower gardener. Giddy. Below are some pictures of some of the fruit, veggies, flowers, and berries from our garden at home so far this year:
I fly a lot. A lot lot. As I move above our earth in a metal cylinder I will occasionally have to visit one of the lavatories. I try to limit these visits since one of my worst travel memories involves me being curled into the fetal position on the pee soaked floor of a transcontinental flight, running a 102 degree fever and puking uncontrollably for over an hour – I am sure you understand my aversion… Anyway, the one thing that I have noticed on my occasional trips to the airplane potty is that the lighting over the mirrors in them is some of the most honest lighting I experience. It shows any blemish, scruff, tired eyes and all the road miles of life.
I am in the middle of of a particularly hectic three month long road-warrior-fest that involves over 70K miles of travel, 4 transcontinental flights, plans for a move to France, late night emergency aircraft repair calls, drama at my J-O-B, my daughter’s high school graduation, 5 countries, crappy food, sleepless nights, a bed bug incident, canceled/delayed flights, lost & pilfered luggage (who takes one shoe?!), a busted iPhone, and lots of jet lag.
On a flight from Seattle to Atlanta I took a long truthful look in the mirror as I washed my hands and I almost didn’t recognize myself: I was puffy, had sad tired eyes with dark circles, I was mortuary pale, and had deep creases on my forehead and eyes, and what were hints of laugh lines have now turned into deep canyons.
I whipped out the iPhone and snapped a couple of shots. Whether I like it or not, this is me today, a breath from 40. The truth of airplane lavatory lighting…
Stamps-With-Foot and I are puppy narcissists – mostly her. We love our dog. Everyone loves our dog, even the cat people in our life. He gets his picture taken – a lot…
I did not have serious time off on my recent trip to China, but I did have an afternoon to visit the markets in Beijing and sample some of the local street food – also not sample some… I picked up a few little somethings in the market stalls for everyone and spent a whopping $50 in doing so. It was one of those experiences that you have to be immersed in as the sights, smells, the crush of people, sounds, Etc…. can’t be accurately described.
We had a quiet West Seattle weekend: Friends over on Friday and we all drank no small amount of great Italian wine and ate the last of our French Comte cheese. I worked around the house and in the shop (me and the lathe are friends) Saturday morning while Stamps-With-Foot nursed a touch of a hangover and snuggled with the Brodie – He didn’t complain. Sunday was lazy with Brunch at Meander’s in White Center (Go For the Chicken and Waffles!) and afternoon coffee at C&P. After coffee and reading, there was a trip to Trader Joe’s, home for left-overs, some quality hottub time, and then we finished the evening with glasses of port, sitting in front of a fire.
I got to climb on the Great Wall. Well, I didn’t so much climb as walk up and down steep, worn stone steps from rampart to rampart along the Badaling section near Beijing with 20,000 or so Chinese tourists. That aside, check one more item off the old bucket list!
The scribed graffiti was cool to see – it covered almost every brick and I was told that it was a new development. I ate lunch at the top of a tower and made my way back down to the visitor’s center by way of a small trail beside the wall’s base where I got to touch and see parts of the wall that are not in most tourist pictures.
On a recent trip to China we were north of Beijing driving from one city to another for meetings and we passed a sign in English that said “Shaolin Temple X-kilometers.” THE Shaolin Temple. You know, the home of Kung Fu and the setting for all the bad chop-suey martial arts movies that filled the Saturday mornings of my pre-pubescent youth – after cartoons and The Three Stooges aired. My co-workers were shocked that I “knew” about Shaolin (??) and made it a point for us to stop by after the meeting was over the next day so I could take it all in.
It was a huge and sprawling complex with thousands of students and visitors – very cool. Some pictures are below, but my favorite is of one of the tree trunks. The divots are from student’s fingers. They will wake up early each morning and strike the trees to toughen their digits. Some of those trees are over a hundred years old and are peppered in small round pock marks.
Oh Seattle… Why can’t you be pretty and green and sort of warm all year? I keep telling myself that Summer and early fall here make the crappy six month of fallwinterspring all worth it, but that is a hard pill to swallow right now. This has been an especially dreary winter: rain, cooler than normal temps, very few sunny days (I remember 4…) and it didn’t really get cold enough to kill the mosquito eggs, so we are looking forward to a buggy spring. Oh Joy. On the bright side of things, the lawn and garden at La Masion du Talley are erupting with jonquils, tulips, cherry blossoms, the begonias and the dahlias are just coming up, there is green on the espalier apples, new raspberry canes are shooting up, my rose bushes in the back are leafing out, I saw a couple of honey bees out foraging, the grass is lush and green, and the first hints of the lavender up front are coming in. I spent the weekend splitting my time between the inside of the house and the yard. In the last two weeks I have been in Tokyo, Orange Co.., CA and Las Vegas, so my part of the household chores had gone unattended to. Here is how it all went down:
Slept late Saturday.
Breakfast and coffee while sitting next to Brodie.
Washed a load of whites and a load of colors.
Thought about going for a run.
Lost two hours of my life to Pinterest instead…
Put dishes away – some of them anyway.
Stamp-With-Foot took Brodie to new vet.
Got dressed and picked up living room and office.
Wife loves new vet. Brodie, not so much…
Finished a couple of small house projects.
Got ready to take Brodie for a walk in Lincoln Park
Started raining.
Started hailing…
Canceled trip to the park.
Brodie went back to sleep on the couch.
Went downstairs to work on my Workbench of Doom in the basement.
Heard water running outside… SHIT! Gutters overflowing! Downspout Plugged!! FVCK!!!
Ran outside, put ladder up DURING hail storm, dug pine needles and holly leaves out of gutters on both sides of house.
Water started moving down drainpipe.
While on top of wet, slick ladder – wished I possessed The Force – would kill neighbor’s trees and lift them out of the ground like X-wing fighter…
Said loud dirty words about gutters, pine needles and neighbor’s trees.
Squinted eyes, pursed mouth, and made mental note to buy copper nails, a large auger bit, some Drain-O, and a vile of the poison that coated the blade that Bilbo was stabbed with for that hateful tree.
Climbed down slick ladder with frozen hands prayed for a single bolt of well placed lightning.
Went inside, threw wet hat down and stomped downstairs to plan a crime.
Stamps-With-Foot made me coffee.
Felt better & cleaned the basement a little.
Wife took me out on Movie Date.
Had a nice time.
Came home and sat in the hot tub for a good long while – nice light rain fell.
Wife all for me taking a hit out on the tree.
Fell asleep looking at Pinterest again.
Up at the crack of dawn on Sunday: 9:00am
Coffee and breakfast.
Wrote some e-mails and sent a few pics to Instagram
Wife left for appointment and Brodie and I went to C&P Coffee.
Brodie tried to eat a black lab the looked funny at him while I was ordering coffee.
Being French, he has a Napoleon Complex – Really, really.
I grabbed him in mid air and other dog looked like he wanted to tinkle on the carpet: hid behind owner
Brodie looked hard at that dog whole time we were there.
Stopped by Home Depot on the way home and got moss killer for the roof and yard.
Noticed the moss while unstopping gutters.
Came home, cut the grass and spread some Weed&Feed that will lead to the eventual demise of all the dandelions, clover, and nettles that dare to take root in my yard.
Mwahahaha…
Felt happy.
Edged and mowed the front and back yards.
Found a couple of ferociousness dandelion patches.
How had I missed them?!
Got out the instant death weed killer and murdered me some dandelions.
Giggled like Buffalo Bill as he put the lotion in the basket.
Other neighbor walked by told me that I had a beautiful yard.
Beamed with pride and tried not to look like a weed serial killer or that I was hatching a plan to commit arborcide!
Wife came home and helped me spray the roof for moss.
Took off overalls and went with wife and Brodie to Lincoln Park – pretty end to the day!
Went to Trader Joe’s for the week’s worth of groceries.
Stamps-With-Foot made dinner while I worked on some handmade Christmas gifts (starting early)
Looked at Pinterest and Instagram again.
Stole wife’s phone because her pics of Lincoln Park were better than mine.
Heard noise outside.
THE WAS A FVCKING RACCOON ON MY ROOF!!
Thought about getting The Ruminator’s pellet rifle.
Decided I did not want to be on top of ladder and at eye level with mad ‘coon that had just been tagged with a pellet.
Turned the water hose on and ruined his night.
He jumped off roof and into the hated pine tree.
I thought about the pellet rifle again… decided to let the raccoon and tree just have each other.
Came in and wife was asleep and the dog was snoring like a 75 year old alcoholic with sleep apnea.
Wrote a couple blog posts.
Turned off lights, set alarm, and went to snuggle with wife.
All the rain, cold, flu and grey skies have me reminiscing about warmer weather and adventures we had this summer: Stamps-With-Foot and I were working and traveling like mad. We were almost burnt out, needed a break and deciding the embracing arms of Mother Nature were in order. A couple that we hang out with was also in a camping state of mind so we planned a little weekend trip to the big woods. A lakeside campground on the slopes on Mt. Adams was chosen and my brother-in-law and his lady friend were invited as well.
This was not a hike ten miles with all our crap sort of outing. We packed up the truck with all our Glamping goodies and bits and drove south one Friday afternoon after work. 5 hours later (traffic, road closures, notes tacked to trees, a campsite change, a lying GPS, etc…) we pulled into camp with good wine, cold beer, salmon fillets and steak waiting for us… This is how all camping trips should start!
We slept in and when we finally did find the initiative to leave our queen sized blow-up bed, we were greeted with a crystal clear lake and a postcard view of the mountain from the door of our tent.
It was a weekend of no cell phones or e-mail, but lots of cast iron cookware, campfires, smores, beer, scotch, laughing, panoramic views and relaxation. Just what the Dr. ordered after a really hectic week.
Awesome snowboarding flick!! Long and so worth it.
WHITE NOISE – FULL Movie from TimeLine Films on Vimeo.
Finely constructed and designed buildings make me all giddy on the inside. China has exploded and there is no better evidence than that (aside from the traffic and smog…) than the amazing new buildings that you can see in the major cities there. This is my third post in a series from a recent trip to china and I could have spent almost every non-working hour looking at and taking pictures of tall buildings, temples, details, roof lines, etc…
Personality. Chinese cities and architecture have personality. The modern glass and steel structures are looming, playful, artistic and make you look up and wonder. Orbs, pyramids, square holes in the middle of the structures abound. Tucked underneath, are 1000 year old temples, ancient homes, narrow alley-like streets and a flowing tide of humanity and machines.
I took a LOT of pictures on a recent trip for my J-O-B to china. This is the second post in a series meant to break the pile up a bit into a manageable size so that people will actually retain focus long enough to look at. The photos below were taken as I strolled through the Forbidden City in Beijing early one Sunday morning. There are a number of close up shots of features made specifically for my work computer desktop. We have a new 5S push at the office and there have been some rumblings about removing personal pictures flashing on the computers on sleep mode – no mandate, just rumblings so far. I have been taking pictures of bits and pieces of the places I visit and see and use them like a digital wall paper – in case the rumors are founded. The pictures will mean little to anyone but me and to everyone else they will appear generic and therefore worthy of a 5S office/cube/desk/computer.
Below are images of roof tiles, a wooden window screen, graffiti in a closed-off (climbed onto a gate and held my camera WAY out to the side) alleyway near the Forbidden garden, a wooden door panel from Tzu-Hsi, the Dowager Empress, residence and cracked paint for the wall outside of P’u Yi’s (the last emperor of China) sleeping quarters. If you like them, let me know and I will send you a wallpaper sized file.
Every summer, my son and I go camping. Some years his sister has gone and my wife has started joining us, but there is a lot of quality father/son time. Discussions swirl around knights, swords, native American tribes/practices, foreign places/peoples, battles, gvns, more sword talk, camping skills, camp cooking, and the merits of boxing/judo/Krav Maga/etc… This year, The Ruminator and Stamps-With-Foot conspired against me and planned a trip to Forks, Washington to visit the Twilight tour stops.
The plan was to drive from Seattle to Forks, visiting La Push, and then completing the circumnavigation of the Olympic Peninsula – going from campground to campground. The trip coincided with both Quileute Days and the Squim Lavender Festival – I have a soft spot for lavender. I believe that the side trip to Squim was more of a bribe than anything else as our rainey destination and reason for going didn’t really speak to my heart. My sweet, sweet wife, all her friends, my daughter, and most of the women I know are enamored with the sparkling undead. I prefer my vampires to erupt into flames when exposed to sunlight, but I am old-school like that.
We packed the new truck, Tater, with tents, bags, rain tarps, food, cast iron, ukeleles, wood, sleeping pads, water, more tarps and headed west like 21st century hillbillies. Our first night was spent near a WWII concrete anti-ship fort – we had to explore the depths and gvn emplacements twice in 24 hours… Before heading to Squim, we stopped in downtown Port Townsend and explored the wooden boat center and some of the shops. Another bribe. Wooden boats and I have an unrequited love affair. I can’t have one because I already have a wife and a full-time job, but that doesn’t preclude me from lusting over teak decks, tight joinery, and the naughty brass bits…
The rain came our second night of camping and never really left. There were dry hours where we cooked and played dueling ukuleles, but for the most part the next 4 nights were an exercise in trying to keep from getting soggy. Brodie was along for his first Talley Family camp-a-thon and was not amused. All he wanted to do was sit with his mommy and crawl under the dry blankets in the tent. That whole thing in the books about Forks being the rainest place in the lower 48 rings true for me. We were there in the summer and never dried out, I can only imagine what it is like in the depth of a long grey winter.
Quileute Days was a side stop on our way to the Pacific coast and LaPush. The Ruminator just HAD to swim in the ocean and no amount of persuasion about it being cold, really cold, would change his adolescent, made up mind. After running into the surf and getting slapped in the chest by the first arctic-cold wave, his eyes got huge and he came up gasping for air. He stayed in until his lips turned almost blue and we had to drag him out. I have a sneaking suspicion that his next trip to the coast will involve a wetsuit.
Forks is a former logging town that is full of nice people who still seem a little bewildered by all the attention. Two shops really stand out in my memory (aside from the Twilight one): a tackle shop that had the same organizational system as my grandfather’s garage: “I know it is here somewhere….” mounted fish on the wall, a stuffed mountain lion, and a dog sleeping in her spot by the door. The other shop was an eclectic mix of junk shop, antique store, book store, coffee shop and sandwich counter where we had lunch. If you go to Forks – dragged by your significant other as well – you cant miss the latter; it is on the same side of the street of the now closed Twilight store and just to the north.
This summer taught us a few things:
When I was maybe 9, National Geographic, which was looked at with high reverence in our house growing up, had this amazing article about a discovery of a clay life-sized army found while some farmers were digging a well in China, under what used to be a village’s persimmon orchard and near the graveyard. I was enthralled and had dreams/fantasies of going all “Indiana Jones” there: finding adventure and treasure. It led to my wanting to be an archaeologist until I was 15 and learned that the career path of archaeology was long, paid poorly, was low in adventure, high on sweat & dirt, and hundreds of over-qualified people fought for what was often a single academic position at even 3rd and 4th tier colleges. None of which sounded ideal to a 15 year old. The career realization I had did nothing to diminish my interest in the warriors and have wanted to see them for myself since reading that small story almost 30 years ago.
My J-O-B sent me to China in November for a little over a week and I found myself in the city of Xi’an, my meeting over, and 7 hours until I had to be at the airport… I threw all my crap in a suitcase, payed my hotel bill, hopped in a taxi and was at the site in 40 minutes. Cross one more AMAZING item off my bucket list! Pictures attached below.
From a more recent National Geo online artical:
“Qin’s army of clay soldiers and horses was not a somber procession but a supernatural display swathed in a riot of bold colors: red and green, purple and yellow. Sadly, most of the colors did not survive the crucible of time—or the exposure to air that comes with discovery and excavation. In earlier digs, archaeologists often watched helplessly as the warriors’ colors disintegrated in the dry Xian air. One study showed that once exposed, the lacquer underneath the paint begins to curl after 15 seconds and flake off in just four minutes—vibrant pieces of history lost in the time it takes to boil an egg.
Now a combination of serendipity and new preservation techniques is revealing the terra-cotta army’s true colors. A three-year excavation in Xian’s most famous site, known as Pit 1, has yielded more than a hundred soldiers, some still adorned with painted features, including black hair, pink faces, and black or brown eyes. The best-preserved specimens were found at the bottom of the pit, where a layer of mud created by flooding acted as a sort of 2,000-year-long spa treatment.
The last excavation in Pit 1 screeched to a halt in 1985 after a worker stole a warrior’s head and was summarily executed—a head for a head, as it were. In the long hiatus that followed, Chinese researchers worked with experts from the Bavarian State Conservation Office in Germany to develop a preservative known as PEG to help save the warriors’ colors. During the recent excavation, the moment a painted artifact was unearthed, workers sprayed any bit of exposed color with the solution, then wrapped it in plastic to keep in the protective moisture. The most colorful pieces (and the earth surrounding them) have been removed to an on-site laboratory for further treatment. To everyone’s delight, the modern techniques for preserving ancient colors seem to be working.
In a narrow trench on the north side of Pit 1, archaeologist Shen Maosheng leads me past what look like terra-cotta backpacks strewn across the reddish soil. They are, in fact, clay quivers still bristling with bronze arrows. Shen and I skirt the remnants of a freshly excavated chariot, then stop beside a plastic sheet. “Want to see a real find?” he asks.
Lifting the sheet, Shen unveils a jagged, three-foot-long shield. The wood has rotted away, but the shield’s delicate design and brilliant reds, greens, and whites are imprinted on the earth. A few steps away is an intact military drum whose leather surface has left another glorious pattern on the dirt, its crimson lines as fine as human hair. Together with the imprints of finely woven silk and linen textiles also found here, these artifacts offer clues about the artistic culture that flourished under the Qin dynasty and the vibrant palette that infused it.
With so much color and artistry imprinted on the soil—the ancient paint, alas, adheres to dirt more readily than to lacquer—Chinese preservationists are now trying to preserve the earth itself. “We are treating the earth as an artifact,” says Rong Bo, the museum’s head chemist, who helped develop a binding agent, now under patent, that holds the soil together so the color won’t be lost. The next challenge, Rong says, will be to find an acceptable method for reapplying this color to the warriors.
With less than one percent of the vast tomb complex excavated so far, it may take centuries to uncover all that remains hidden. But the pace of discovery is quickening. In 2011 the museum launched two long-term excavation projects on the flanks of the 250-foot-high central burial mound. Exploratory digs in this area a decade ago uncovered a group of terra-cotta acrobats and strong men. More extensive excavations will yield “mind-boggling discoveries,” predicts Wu Yongqi, the museum’s director.”
Don’t aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally.
-David Frost
SILVER & LIGHT from Ian Ruhter / Alchemist on Vimeo.
It has been a sweet summer in our small garden. Stamps-With-Foot has really stepped up and has been planting, weeding, watering, picking fruit, staking dahlias and has even once turned the compost and added chicken manure. I have been both shocked and impressed. She even talked me into having some corn planted in the raised boxes this year. She bought the starts, planted them, made sure they were well hydrated and is now about to harvest 15+ ears of yellow sweet corn. Her squash has been prolific and we will have more soybeans this fall than we will know what to do with. Happily surprised at my bride’s greening thumb…
So far this season, we have harvested 25 heads of garlic, 10 sweet yellow onions, 30+ yellow and green squash, a few Roma tomatoes (still very early in the season), 4+pints of raspberries (late summer crop just starting), 3 pints of wonderfully sweet blackberries, figs, apricots, 1 apple (more to come), a gallon+ of cherries, spinach, 5 beets, more Swiss and rainbow chard than I care to remember, 2 pints of small strawberries, a pint-ish of blueberries, and we have supplied three households with rosemary, sage, pineapple sage, thyme, basil, Thai basil, Moroccan mint, and spearmint. We have been trading produce with some other members of our family for eggs and with two sets of neighbors for veggies and flowers. Stamps-With-Foot mentioned the other day that she felt like Marie Antoinette with her little Austrian Hobby farm in the shadow of Versailles.
The amazing amount of flowers (except for the lavender and roses) have all been cared for by my sweet wife and a neighbor from across the street. Both front and back yards have been perfumed since early spring.
This May saw the 2012 Orthopedic Big-Belly Hillbilly Climbing & Beer Drinking Association Cragfest. It was held at Smith Rock, OR and in Mt. Shasta City, CA. This was the 9th sort of-annual gathering in the last 13 years for our little band of over-educated, misshaped, crippled, wannabe climbers, profound thinkers and powerful drinkers. We spent a long week climbing, eating & drinking hopped beverages (I gained 6lbs!!), there were murderous 6-8 mile hikes up to crags, some nudity, 5 snake sightings (one reptile death), no broken bones, some quality routes climbed, limited blood loss, heavy rocks snuck into packs, laughter, video games, gas, Squid Billies, more laughter, and quality time spent catching up on each others’ lives…. A fine week off with buddies and away from the J-O-B.
This year’s cast of characters included:
Taint: A native son of Southern California. Strong climber, but easily confused by tri-cams and large hexes. A world traveler and new father who needs 11 hours of sleep a night to function and has absolutely no short term memory – none. An easy target for pranks and very poor at retaliation. Had to cancel his participation on an OBBHC&BDA trip two years ago because he had 2nd degree burns on the soles of his feet after helping with/leading a fire walking “class.”
Dr. Strippy-Socks: A writing, climbing, painting, fiddlin’, designing, and docterin’ polymath who was gracious enough to open his mountain home up to our little band of miscreants. A man who has an amazingly talented and giving spouse that allows him out of the house in polyester shirts, a visor, short-shorts, tall socks and sandals. This in an individual who in the course of a conversation will quote bolt torque specs, reference an obscure Ska band, outline the ideology of specific band of Orcs, and review the symptoms for early onset CHF in middle aged men.
The Bridesmaid Whisper: A bright, smart, medical resident with a dry sense of humor that borders the Sahara. The strongest climber of the trip, a man who developed the definitive definition of a #2 Pencil and made me tinkle myself a little while laughing hysterically in my sleeping bag. He is a man that can walk into a wedding reception and in short order has to wade through a throng of drunken bridesmaids who need his body like the Pope needs Jesus.
Smooth&Boney: Is a man who can sit on the couch for years, then walk outside and send a 5.12 sport route. Any mention of Jessica Alba will send him into smiling, wild-eyed fits of joy, followed by some alone time. Poor at hiking with a pack and once cried when his belayer tooted on him a little, has gear that predates Columbus, his favorite outdoor technical fabric is jean denim, and is the father to three adorable girls – the middle one loves me more than her uncle Rosy! When not climbing or wading through the estrogen that fills his life, he is a Designer/Engineer/Manager for the snazziest tool corporations in the world, but has yet to pass any cool shinny metal stuff on to his friends.
The Lawn Enforcement Officer: Father to two pale yet happy children and husband to a wife he doesn’t deserve: a mix of Betty Crocker/Belladonna/Ellen Page. I am the short, fat, balding, yard-obsessed, hairy, practical joking chronicler of this tale who now lives in Seattle in a 1928 house that is forever under reconstruction. The winner of The Deep Belly Button Award this year – A prize given to the fattest climber in the group for a given year.
Not-A-Biker: A great climber, brother to Smooth&Boney, and a generous friend who looks more like his father with the passing of each day. A man about to embark on an odyssey that will take him and his sweet southern, gvn-toting bride into the wilds of Philadelphia for a 3 to 29 year medical residency. He is someone who will freely give prostate exams to his friends (perfect strangers too…), has a questionable web search history, and who should never be allowed to even sit on a motorcycle. Was pantsed (sic) this year in full view of the entire group.
Missing this year was THE Mark Flood. Mark is the only man that Chuck Norris masturbates to. He is the strongest climber and hiker that any of us know, a gifted engineer, a good natured friend and drinking companion, and one of the toughest people you will ever meet. I have seen him drink from green stagnate pools one the sides of cliffs without any intestinal backlash and there have been things that have gone into his belly that would make a billie goat puke.
He has become a whispered legend in some circles after snatching falling climbers out of the air – mid fall – and saving them from a quick brutal death – truth. To punctuate the description/picture of Mr. Flood: He couldn’t join us this year because while hiking out of what was surely an epic day of climbing, he fell on the steep trail and a piece of iron rebar was shoved into his knee joint!! He tied a hankie around it and finished the walk out… His presence was duly missed this year and we all pray that he will be there for the next gathering to keep us all honest and safe.
Magical Spring has finally come to Le Maison du Talley. Our rhododendrons are back and in full pooping bloom after they were hacked back last year. The tulips, daffodils, and poppies have all decided to bloom at the same time. The Spanash, English and Provence lavender has taken root and flourished along the front fence. After a two year struggle with blossom-rot, the two cherries up front are full of flowers and green cherries. We have Mandarin orange blossoms, apple blossoms, apricots, figs, raspberry buds, a fence line of blooming roses, and 3 Meyer’s lemons on the dwarf tree in our backyard mini-orchard.
Stamps-with-Foot and I planted garlic and onions in the fall that are close to being pulled and we spent an afternoon planting tomatoes, squash, corn, and zucchini in two of our raised beds. After in initial problem with early blight last year, our two full beds of tomatoes went NUTS! and we had more that we could use or give away. We were more selective this year and planted just a couple varieties and only 7 plants. I hot-housed a bed of spinach, Swiss Chard, and beats all winter that is now in full production mode.
I plan to be home more this summer and really spend some time tending and harvesting, although one wouldn’t know it from all the traveling so far. I can’t wait until mid-August when I can sit in my cotton hammock, gently swinging over my Ireland-green grass, drinking a Dunkel Weissbeir, snuggling my wife, and patting our puppy while gazing out onto our yard and garden.
You don’t really own anything you can’t carry on your back at a dead run.
– Daniel Keys Moran
In 2004 there was a Flickr thread entitled “What’s in your bag?” that immediately captured a voyeuristic nerve with the denizens of the Web and since then about a gamillion people have posted pictures of all the crap they carry with them through their daily lives. You can see it all: packs, purses, pencil cases, hello kitty, descriptions, puppies (!?!), the entire Moleskine collection, pens, sunglasses, pistols, retainers, pocket knives, Apple products, and enough bike inner tubes to encircle the earth 12 times. Hours of my life have been lost peeping into other peoples lives through the contents of their purse/messenger bag/pockets. The phenomena has been around long enough now that there are subsets of bags and contents: Camera equipment, writers, hipsters, journalists, students, bike messengers, everyday carry (EDC), diaper bags, etc…
I came in after a recent craptastic day and started emptying my pockets and satchel. It seems I carry what professional organizers call “a lot of shit.” I was amazed to see, all stacked in one spot, how many different individual items I tote around all day. I took a picture and added it to the growing online show & tell/confessional.
Starbucks gum
2 dollar coins and a quarter
16GB USB with former puppy’s tag attached
Steel LAMY fountain pen – medium nib, brown ink
Moleskine work notebook – filled with sketches and task lists
iPad with case – pic shot from city wall in Essaouira, Morocco
iPhone, no case – pic of driftwood carving found at beach near the house
Truck/car/house keys with old dog tag
Silver bracelets (copies of John Wayne’s – google it)
Wedding ring – milled from and aircraft bearing
Kershaw – Ken Onion pocket knife
Eddie Bauer slim wallet and money clip – that’s right, big money: one WHOLE dollar
Milt Sparks knock-off IWB holster
Magazine loaded with 7 Gold Dots
Para Ordnance Black Watch .45 – some custom work
Ray-Ban birth control glasses
Bag: heavily modified US Army OD green map satchel
I sometimes carry a small flashlight in my satchel, a couple of other Moleskines, a roll of fountain pens, a spare magazine, sunglasses, my ORCA card, a kindle, a cheapo Bic lighter, and a small folding knife on my keychain. I forgot the light this morning and I flew recently and haven’t put the TSA-offending Victorinox back on my keys.
What do you carry with you during your day? Below are a representational photos of the phenomena including mine.
I am sitting in our breakfast nook, drinking coffee and getting mentally prepped for my J-O-B. As I sip my needed and delicious cup o’ joe, I can see the winter sunrise reflecting off the tips of the frost covered grass in the front yard. It has me ruminating on the intensity, goals, minor failures, and harvest from this years garden and yard work.
I spent our very cold spring getting our raised boxes ready for a bumper crop: perfect soil mix, irrigation lines, compost, etc… The tomatoes were planted a little early and they got an early blight that stunted them for a time, but they came back in force and we had more tomatoes than we new what to do with this year. I didn’t get the onions in the ground soon enough or plant garlic at all, so e ultimately gathered 2 medium white onions and I left the rest of the shoots in the ground this fall, planted winter garlic and covered them with straw so the we will have a summer crop next year.
We feel our biggest success was with our greens. Planted spinach, butter lettuce, and chard that fed us all summer. There was an unfortunate incident with the broccoli (bugs, microwave, crunchy dinner…), but on the whole our bed of greens was were most of the bang for our buck came from.
Fall hurt a little. I was away a good bit traveling for work and the garden was neglected. My very first apple was stolen by a squirrel, the slugs went NUTS on the last of the tomato crop. Fvcking slugs… There will be a battle next year and I am planning on a plan of full slug eradication. There was some definite success though: we gathered almost 2 gallons of raspberries, made mint mojitos and mint juleps from the 6 types of mint I have growing in containers. There were probably 3 bushels of tomatoes that came out of one 3×7 raised bed – really. We had our first lemon, first fig, cherries, huckleberries, strawberries (also hurt by the squirrels though), a full cup of blue berries, beets, greens, and lot of knowledge gained through screwing up.
Thoughts for this winter and next year:
Death to all slugs!!
Need more bees early in the season for fruit trees – hang some mason bees in a warm area.
Grow starts in basement and do not plant too early.
Mulch raspberries and roses.
Cut all blackberries out.
Need more drip irrigation hose.
Raise kitchen herb planters up another foot off the ground.
Raise strawberry pots up as well.
Prune tomato flowers so that crop is smaller and fruit larger.
Use apple bags to keep apple pests at bay.
Spray fruit trees early!
Spray roses with anti-rust/fungal early and monthly.
Spend more time in garden.
Since Brodie follows my wife constantly and they are near inseparable, every time I snap a picture of Stamps-With-Foot, Brodie is there. When I leave this life I hope that I am reincarnated as a new frenchie puppy for my wife. She is fully involved with her fur-baby: he eats lavish hot food, has more toys than he can play with, a warm comfy bed, a yard free of crap, other dogs, unlimited snuggling, and bacon for snacks. In short, the life all Frenchies dream of – well except for the occasional romp with a toy poodle – there could be more of that for Brodie…
Stamps-With-Foot and I went down to Portland for Easter weekend… as if we had all the freetime in the world – no projects looming over us – and a pot of money. We have some dear friends there that have just had a baby and we went down to meet him and hang out with them. Holy Pork Chop on a Stick!! The weather was AWESOME!! I am talking 65 degrees, blue skies, sunshine – the works. Saturday found us in a green city park, sitting under a tree, having a picnic, and swigging mimosas! It was a really laid back day and just what the doctor ordered. We spent Easter Sunday with an old family friend who happens to be Jewish – I always imagined the Easter bunny as having Hasidic roots… After a lazy morning, yummy coffee, and a terriffic breakfast, we drove into downtown and went to the Portland Chinese Garden. Our friend is on the Board of Directors there and we got in for free. Although the rain came back, we had a phenomal time walking the paths, finding nooks and alternate views. There was a late lunch at the tea house and the ladies partook of sake and plum wine.
Let’s say that I have been neglecting my bikes this year. If my road bike were a truly a woman, she would have already maxed all the credit cards and run away with that suave, skinny, tanned bike mechanic that so lovingly tuned her last summer. With the return of Daylight Savings time, it is time to rekindle the romance with my many two-wheeled mistresses.
My oldest friend, Herbert, was in Seattle celebrating the rain/spring break/grey skies for a week and we decided to go for a long bike ride while he was visiting. We cruised down to the ferry dock near Lincoln Park and took a couple bikes over to Vashion Island for a circumnavigation tour of that dot of terra firma. I rode my commuter bike and Herbert rode my 1979 disco-orange Volkscycle. The night before we installed some retro fenders on the orange beauty (Arron’s Bike is the SHIT! – incredible customer service!), thinking we might get wet, but karma intervened and we had blue skies and warm sunshine for the whole trip.
After climbing a nasty hill leading from the ferry dock, we rode south along the less populated western side. Vashion is dotted with small farms, quite roads, tall trees, and beach front cabins. The abject poverty of some of the homes we passed was quite sad: 3000+ sq. soot cabin with 3-4 acres of green pasture behind, a dock extending out into the Sound with a handsome 30+ foot sail bot moored there, panted barn, new tractor, happy cows… so sad… 😉
We stopped for lunch and beer at the Quartermaster Inn – yummy red pepper soup – and made it to Vashion Island Coffee Roasters just before they closed. Coffee… I bought a bag of my favorite Ecuadorian roast, and enjoyed a fine cup of joe, sitting on the bench outside watching the world go by. Getting back on the bikes was difficult… after a wet winter of cheating on my two wheel mistress with beer and snacks, my insensitivity to her was repaid by the butt-numbing pain inflected by my bike seat. Holy crap! Herbert was in worse shape as the plastic 1970’s plush saddle h was astride turned into a crotch mounted torture devise after 25 miles or so.
All together, we rode 46 miles, drank some good beer, ate yummy food, ingested way too much coffee, laughed about stupid things done as children, lovingly remembered friends that have passed, and made some memories.
Post Script:
We had planned to paddle a kayak over to Blake island the next day, but our butts decided that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, we hobbled around for a couple of days like two old guys in search of a hemorrhoid pillow…
On a trip to the UK just before Christmas, I had an early morning bid’ness meeting near Cardiff, Wales and stopped on the way back to London in the pedestrian town of Castle Combs – pronounced “Cwms” – for lunch. A co-worker suggested the stop and once a again, “Peculiar travel suggestions are like dancing lessons from God”
I ate a fantastic meat pie and had a ½ pint of local cider at The White Hart. The place, staff, and food were all top-notch! It was a nice little lull in the midst of a hectic, pressure-filled trip.
Castle Combs is a time capsule of 15th century buildings, streets & houses and seems to be a popular place for filming. It was used a location for the 1967 film Doctor Dolittle, an episode of Agatha Christie’s Poirot, the 2010 version of The Wolfman, and for the coming Steven Spielberg production War Horse. Who would have thunk it?
I had to take a quick trip back to Hamburg, Germany for work just before Christmas this year. Aside from all our close friends there, the thing that Stamps-With-Foot and I miss most about Germany are the Christmas markets. This is how Christmas should be done everywhere: booths selling hand-made small gifts, warm candied peanuts, hand-blown glass ornaments, hot mulled wine for sale on every corner, hand-painted pewter ornaments, Christmas music, grilled sausage, happy people holding hands, groups caroling, smiling kids, young lovers sneaking a kiss behind the huts…
I had about 3 hours between getting off work and having to drive to the airport, so I walked through the ice and snow to a couple of the larger markets, bought ~$400 in ornaments (we/I have a Christmas tree decorating fetish…) and small gifts for my lovely wife and the kids., then I took some pictures of all the wreathed ambiance.
