The functional art of a block plane

There is craft and there is art and sometimes the two disiplines make sweet love and this is their offspring:

From here

The lines for this one are almost Art Deco.  It looks like it would mold into a palm and become and extension of your hand.

From here

Wood and steel and brass and beautiful.  In my mind’s eye I can see the curled shavings littering the shop while I work with this beauty:

From here

There is something wrong with you if this mechanical marvel doesn’t make you wonder what you could build that would REQUIRE you to purchase this plane.

From here

We got some serious shiznit done this weekend

As per usual, our weekend was jammed with crap to get done before the dreaded Monday morning came calling. Here is how it went:

Up at 7:30
Coffee makes me into a human being. Able to now form whole sentences without grunting
Remove panels from back fence for new hot tub delivery
Smash thumb, say F-word. Say again louder just because
Clear temp spot on patio for said hot tub.
Spend 10 minutes day dreaming about hot tub magic on a cold winter evening – snow falling into the hot water…
Three J-O-B related calls wake me from my hazy never, never land
Get bact to work making room for te most expensive lawn accessory I have ever owned
Put hot house tent on second planter box
I WILL HAVE LOTS OF RED TOMATOES THIS YEAR, DAMNIT!!
Say hateful words about last years green tomatoes
Paint primer on cabinet base
Get primer in beard
Don’t realize about errant primer
Take dog with me to C&P Coffee Shop
Get some weird looks
Wonder if I have a boogie…
Meet wife at home
Wife cleans primer off face
Wrap living room in plastic and cover floor – looks like a scene from Dexter
Wife paints around trim
Work on J-O-B stuff from home
Three huge Somoans deliver hot tub
Do not argue about price
More coffee with nephew at C&P
Pizza and game night at sister’s place
Mom talks smack about she “never” cheats at games
Lighting REALLY wanted to strike….
Dominate in board game after dinner!!
Take that, Mom!!!
Consume port
Sleep
Up at 8:oo – wife brought home Starbucks
Super love wife
Researched crazy Seattle building codes for hot tubs and decks
Talked to a couple of friends in Germany using Skype – we miss Germany
Made a plan for deck that will keep me from getting a fine – maybe
Work on kitchen cabinet base in shop
Clean shop a little
Daydream about the day when I have a work space larger than a prison cell
Fondle jointer plane and wood mallet
Move desk for mother
Help tape trim in living room and paint ceiling and help paint walls
Mention that wall color looks like mac&cheese
Receive sustained dirty look from wife
Do not comment about color further
More paint in beard
Notice this time
More working for THE MAN at home
Wife goes to club meeting
Fix drawers on wife’s dresser solely for the brownie points
Lock self out of house
Look at sky and shake head slowly…
Mark pad site for hot tub with paint and mark wiring trench path
Spray paint toe of left shoe
Say the F-word at least twice
Go to sisters house and bum dinner
Sister is a great cook, single, very pretty – just saying in case you know a gent 45 – 55 with taste and a real job… Has to be single and not a dick. Must love really obese dachshunds.
Wife home
Play the whole locked my self and the dog out of the house thing off like I meant to do it
She doesn’t buy it
More painting
Not a word said about Kraft wall color – not even a smirk. Want to sleep inside tonight
Shower
Send a flurry of work emails
Curse my work email server to a firery prolonged end
Retype all the email and send again.
Off to bed to snuggle with wife.

Steamcon III

Stamps-With-Foot and I went to the 3rd annual Steamcon this past weekend with our hearts open and expecting to be impressed.  Last year we had a ball at their western/adventurer themed event: Great costumes, a cool retail section with memorable window shopping, and lots and lots of people having a great time.  This year, the theme was a “20000 Leagues Under the Sea” affair.  We had HUGE hopes for some very cool costumes/props and had been looking forward to going all year.

“Expectation is often better than realization…” I am not sure what it was, but this year’s show just didn’t have the same spark.  Some of the costumes were terrific, but there seemed to be fewer original ones.  Don’t get me wrong, we saw some classy dresses, finely tailored suits, mechanical hands, harpoons, gvns, hats, Leather roller derby gear, big wrenches, a pet shoulder dragon, and a goldfish tank on a leash.  Some serious thought and skill went into these outfits.  There were just fewer kinds of them this year than there were last year.  It also seemed like the event goers this year were more subdued.

The convention was held at a larger and more spacious venue, which would normally be great, but it took away from some of the intimacy of the gathering as compared to last year.  We were somewhat disappointed with the retail space/offerings.  It seemed to be a rehash of last year, with each vendors efforts doubled at another booth.  While I appreciate the entrepreneurial sprit, some of the items for sale were not made to withstand the test of time: if one uses hot-glue on an artistic/functional creation, shit will fall off and it will be neither the latter nor the former any longer.  I will say that the art displays were terrific and we picked up a couple of small things for Le Maison du Talley.

I am holding out hope for Steamcon IV.  I know some people that are discussing an awesome vendor booth and Victorian Monsters is the theme – rich material for the creative set.  The Steampunk crowd has a high relative population of former Goths, so I am figuring that black capes & cloaks with high collars will be coming out of hope chests everywhere.  Wooden crosses and silver bullets for the initiated.  More lace, bite marks, wolf references, mad scientists, mummy’s, parasols, and meerschaum pipes will be seen.  Vampire hunter kits will be produced, there should be some terrific League of Extraordinary Gentleman inspired regalia and maybe the show will find a home that is equal parts convenient for participants, has the perfect ambiance, and room for running amuck.

Dublin and County Down

My J-O-B sent me once again to Northern Ireland to address a possible issue. I REALLY didn’t want to fly into & stay in Belfast again (shiver) and make the daily hour drive through sheep country every morning.  Instead, we flew into Dublin, drove north an hour & 20 minutes, and stayed in the seaside town of Newcastle – a mere 10 minute morning commute each day from our intended work site. I was accompanied this time by two coworkers that had never been to the UK or Europe and it was great seeing it all new again through their eyes. I have noticed that I can be blind to a new experience or site in a place that I have been to for work more than a couple of times. They pointed out some really cool stuff and some mannerisms of the local population that I just had never noticed.

It wasn’t 100% work/sleep/work. We got an afternoon to explore Newcastle and spent the evening before we flew out in Dublin – great city! That last night, we stopped by Christ Church to marvel at the floors and spent 2+ hours (them not me) souvenir hunting/buying at Carroll’s, before I took them down to Temple Bar for dinner and so they could see the crowds and sights. After dinner and a little walking to work off the desert, we sat at a high table on Gogarty’s second floor, right next to the musicians bench, watched Irish dancing and listened to irish ballads as we put a few pints of the black stuff away.

Old books make me light-headed and giddy

This past Saturday Stamps-With-Foot and I met downtown at the Seattle Center for the 14th annual Seattle Antiquarian Book Fair. It has been marked on my calendar for a couple of months because I am a giant bookworm. Handling old books makes me feel all funny in a certain place in my lower abdominal region… so not attending wasn’t in the cards. The first booth we visited was one that sold sheets of illuminated volumes on vellum. There were thousands of sheets ranging in size from 3″X4″ to full folio size (~15″X17″). The hand drawn figures, uncial script, and the shinning gold accents from the 14th century made me a little dizzy and it was REALLY hard for me to not grab two armfulls and run screaming “I am John Galt!!” from the hall. Really, it crossed my mind, and only the realization of what it would mean for me when my cellmates in jail asked “What you in here for?” kept me from acting on that totally logical bibliophile impulse.

I looked over at my little wife and she had a huge smile on her face and was carefully holding a sheet from a French Book of Days bound in 1480-ish, looking at it like it held the answer to world peace. She glanced over and mouthed, “I want to have sex with it.” And THAT, ladies and gents, is why we are married.

After the first booth, the rest of the show was a little bit of a let down, but there were some truly rare and beautiful volumes – I think that I have turned Stamps-With-Foot into a collector of miniature books. We bought a couple of moderns, and looked longingly at the vellum as we left the show after a couple hours of browsing, talking to vendors, and groping hand bound book spines.

Glamping

On a recent weekend, Stamps-With-foot and I met some friends at a campsite on the slopes of Mt. Rainer, situated next to a clear, cool, rushing river.  It was a welcome vacation from my iPhone, computer, the J-O-B, projects at home and was an adventure is truly luxurious camping: glamping.   We had soft warm double beds, million dollar views, canvas recliners, teak side tables, flowers in vases, steak for dinner, champagne both nights, a hardwood fueled fire, fresh pastries, good wine, table cloths, linen napkins, and a curtained canopied dining room. There were even antique Japanese pearls presented and worn (thanks for upping the b-day present giving bar Dave… you dick).  The only thing that separated it from a Victorian safari was the absence of white jacketed & gloved natives and the whole killing of endangered species thing.

All we brought to this gathering was a family sized tent, an air mattress, a set of cast iron Dutch ovens & griddle, some yummy food, good booze, and very sharp kitchen knives.  Our Portland friends added all the rest of the good stuff.  My normal camping experience often requires a nasty 10+ mile uphill hike (both ways), carrying all my junk (with most of the wife’s as well) & 25+ pounds of climbing gear.  Evenings and EARLY mornings are often spent hovering over a tiny stove to warm up some dehydrated crap-surprise, sleeping in a tiny tent, on a thin short blow-up pad, pumping my own water, and waking up to instant coffee. It might be age talking, but I think that I might prefer the linen napkin approach.   I am now plotting my own glamping plush set up.  Next time we all go camping together, it is going to look like a Moroccan Pasha has come over for a weekend – walled tents, plush pillows, curtains, chests, and feasting…

I feel the need to mention that the next time I see Dave I am going to hit him square in the taint for upping the ante with the amazing pearls…  Stamps-With-Foot is now expecting antique Japanese pearls, wrestled from the jaws of a giant clam by a tiny woman diver who held her breath for like 15 minutes and fought, almost to the death, for the prize… Yep, SMACK!! right in the baby-maker for this one David.   I hope your wife treated you well for the thought and originality of your beautiful gift, as you will soon look back on those halcyon nights of pleasure with non-functioning fondness.

Thursday again

Spend an hour a day writing: I HAVE to finish my book on life in Germany. I have sat on it for WAY too long. I have set the office up so that I have a proper work space, free of distractions. I need to get up, have coffee, a bite to eat, and spend an hour typing. This means I will have to go to bed ~10:00 though…
For my dress shirts to be tailored: if I buy dress shirts off the rack I get 16/32 . Unless it is a new “slim fit” it fits fine across my back, shoulders, arms and neck, but around the waist I have a couple feet of material to crease, tuck, re-tuck, and hide. It looks sloppy if I take my suit jacket off. I would really like them taken in and button holes added to all so I can wear cufflinks. I know, petty uptown problems…
Get rid of some crap: I am on a binge to get rid of some of the crap we have accumulated in the last year. Do I really need a 4X8′ drafting table in the basement? How many backpacks does it take to be excessive? Do I need to keep all those fvcking back issues of Monocle and Outside?
Red tomatoes: Last year my tomato harvest sucked. I had 5 red tomatoes, 4 of them split on the vine, and all the rest remained green. I will not be having that shit this year! I planted early, have been lovingly tending to them all summer and if the warm weather is over, then I am putting a hoop-house over the beds until each and every one turns scarlet red.
Lumber: I could do with 50′ or so of 8″ wide popular planks. The final push on the kitchen will require some pull-outs installed and extra shelving put into existing cabinets.
Get off my ass: I have been traveling so much, missing runs and workouts in the gym, eating out, and scarfing down cookies like a junkie who has found a heroin tree. I have to get up, push away from my desk, and run/bike/lift/hike/climb and shed my cookie-handles.

Big Game huntin’ in the back yard

I can say with certainty that there are some unique benefits when you are my child:  They are allowed to watch cartoons at any point during the day, expletives are allowed as long as they are in another language (points given for Chinese curse words), cookies (in moderation) and cold milk are a food group of their own, no brussels sprouts will EVER appear on their plate, I have the tools and childlike imagination to build most anything that can be dreamt up, big game and zombie hunting are allowed in the back yard, sword fights with foam batons are good clean fun, mohawks and blue hair are just fine, and I will trick out a BMX bike like a hustler will pimp out a Caddy.  Apparently, I am an overgrown man-child with credit…  I am constantly amazed that my sweet wife both puts up with my antics and is contemplating procreating with me .

My son knows all the benefits of “Dad’s house” and this summer we worked on a wooden boomerang, build stuff in the shop, and sniped at dinosaurs with a pellet rifle perched atop his Wimbledon Cup-worthy bench rest that I built for him last year.  He is a dino-slaying machine!

An iPad worthy of Gene Rodenberry

Someday I will have a phaser and a tricorder, but for now my iPad is a real close second. This baby let’s me get stuff done! The third morning that she (my white lovely has to be a girl as she is smooth, helpful, and sexy) came to live with me I hopped on first thing that morning while in my bath robe and with a cup of coffee in my hand.   I got my daily news fix, sent seven e-mails to customers, corrected a drawing on my work machine via remote access, looked to see if my bus was on time, checked that week’s weather forecast, looked at the traffic on the bridge, made a quick Skype call, and for good measure updated a spreadsheet – all before that first cup of coffee was gone.

Below are the apps that I have loaded and that I have found most useful. Before loading anything, I had tried all out on others’ iPads or used the iPhone version. This is not an end all, be all review/recommendation, just a list of what I use and find really helpful. note: I am not a big gamer, but I have a couple that I will resort to on long flights.

Pages: Word processing that I import and export Word files from.
Numbers: I can edit any spread sheet I have in it – home or work.
Currency: Great when I am haggling over prices at the Souks in Morocco, buying a hoodie in Belfast, or for filling out my J-O-B’s crazy over-complicated expense report forms…
Kindle: Knowledge is power. If my Kindle dies, I have a back up and if Stamps-With-Foot is reading the same book that I want to read on my Kindle, then I can access it on the Kindle App and we can both read the same book at the same time.
Word Press: For updating my ego blog during lunch or while flying from here to yonder
Convert Units: How many rods are in a league?
NPR: My day starts with coffee, NPR, and cereal
Photo Studio HD: Nice compact foto editor
Notes Plus: Hand writing recognition that lets me organize all my meeting notes and doodles – I doodle a lot, it helps me organize my ideas into something workable.
Skype: Awesome. I can talk to my wife and see her face from ½ around the globe.
Jump: Remote desktop access. Probably the most powerful App in my arsenal. It helps me get a huge amount of shit done!
One Edit: Batch photo conversion, resizing, and renaming
Ukulele Tabs: For my Bad-ass Koa axe!
Zombie Gunship: Because shooting Zombies and saving civilians from behind a 105 in a C130 is just good clean fun.
Angry Birds: I have no excuse – it is addictive
Hulu+ : I hate to miss an episode of Archer
Netflix: Loved Netflix more two months ago before they screwed with billing, but I will still watch a movie lying in bed
Drop Box: Absolutely the best thing I have found to move and back up files on my iPad.
One Bus Away: Up to date/minute bus information for Seattle
eWallet:  A really handy and secure password safe that I first used in 2002 on my Handspring Palm Pilot.

My Kindle no longer has library cooties.

Finally! Amazon has followed through with their promise and I can now check out books from the library on my Kindle! Oh, the cash I will now save… I have been longing for this to happen since the day I chose the Kindle over the Nook (and spent the next month worrying that i had made the wrong decision) and mostly-patiently waiting since Amazon’s initial announcement that this was in the works back in June. I have a shelf full of books that are in line waiting for my attention, but I am planning to surf over to the SPL site tomorrow at lunch and upload a book just because I can.

On a side note – though still kindle related – I recently turned 103 and for my birthday, my lovely wife presented my with an iPad2, on which I immediately loaded the Kindle app. It doesn’t have the battery life that I am now used to and my head would feel like it were clamped in a vise if I spent an 8 hour flight reading a book on it, as I prefer reading on the eInk of my Kindle2, but it will do in a pinch.

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A deal down at the crossroads…

My boy, like much of his generation, is not a letter writer. While talking to The Ruminator about why he hadn’t sent out a couple ‘Thank You‘ notes, he gave me the – ‘I don’t have any cards and I have bad handwriting’ – story.  I made a deal with him:  I would make him some stationary and cards with zombies on them if he both promised to use them for the aforementioned note of ‘thanks’ and if he would write me one letter a month for two years.  I told him that penmanship, content, punctuation, and spelling didn’t matter.  I just wanted one honest letter a month.   He loves “killing” zombies and so he was in!  I made him shake on it.  To drive the point home, I drew up the little contract below for him to sign, putting Christmas and birthday presents on the line for failure to live up to the deal, and made sure Santa witnessed it as well.

Quality stationary means quality paper.  Like with my own and Stamps-With-Foot’s Stationary – instead of the white recycled paper that we use for most printing, I used 30gram 100% cotton ivory/ecru paper and matching 100% cotton envelops.   I went into Adobe Illustrator and made a green zombie head Victorian silhouette from an image that I pulled of the inter-webs.

I worked on it for 3-4 hours and stayed up late putting it all together.  I had a surprise trip to the UAE come up, so I asked Stamps-With-Foot to send The Ruminator his stationary.  I even included an organizer and special pen for him to compose his prose with.  I called his house the day it all arrived and got an butt-chewing from his mother about how crappy it was to make a 10 year old sign a contract and expect him to write me once a month.  She was not amused and missed the whole spirit and reason it was all done in the first place.  I doubt that I will be getting a letter and no notes will be sent out.  My son will learn that he doesn’t have to keep his word and that not all manners are important…  Exactly the opposite lesson that I was trying to teach him.  We shall see how it all turns out…

Card Catalog, you complete me

Are you old enough to remember standing in front of a wooden box in your school/neighborhood library, flipping through yellowed note cards, looking for the tittle/author of just the right book?  As I sat in Mrs. Peterson’s 3rd grade classroom, learning the intricacies of the Dewey Decimal System, I would have never imagined that I would one day look back on it all with smiling nostalgia.  Going to the library and thumbing through the old oak card catalog drawers – pulled out and sitting on a table – and finding titles like The Roghfort Gang, My Side of the Mountain, How to Eat Fried Worms – happy memories.

The days to the DDS and the card catalog are almost completely gone. Almost all libraries – large, small, rural, urban – have digitized their catalogs/holdings and have sold off or just thrown out their cabinets (insert look of horror).  I had looked for my own case for the last 3-4 years before finding one at a decent price that fit in our home.  A fine old card catalog should be de rigueur for a bookworm’s home office/living room.  When I found that perfect one early this year, I may have caressed and spoke to it in soft loving tones for the first few days.  I moved it right into my office, re-arranged the drawers, and mounted my book press on the top.  Something was still missing though.  I realized that I needed labels installed in the brass pull/placard to complete the piece. I set up a template in Visio and set the lettering to an interesting script-like font that I found at dafont.  Then I had a little fun with naming the drawers from A to Z.

A few pictures of Laurel and Brodie this summer

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…

My wife’s badass personal stationary

I have always felt that you don’t truly possess a house until either miscellaneous charities start sending you mounds of address labels in the hopes of a donation or until you have personal stationary with your home address.  My sweet little wife has never had custom stationary and I figured that it was about time and it would give me the opportunity to spoil her a little.

Having a print shop or a high-end paper store design and print say 100 letter sheets, envelopes and thank you cards will run you about $500.  Buying a hand letterpress, a couple sets of tin/lead font, paper, ink, new rollers, etc. will set you back $1000, easy.  I am way too cheap and too handy to fork out that kind of dough for something I can do myself.

Stamps-With-Foot loves her puppy like the Pope loves Jesus.  I thought that his handsome mug would make the perfect personal seal for her.  I took a picture of him and through the voodoo of Photoshop, I made a black silhouette image – all big ears and narrow butt.  I dropped that image into AutoCAD and did some arranging and formatting.  I added to that her contact information in a semi-french script font that I designed a few years ago for my own letters and cards.

Quality stationary means quality paper.  Instead of the white recycled paper that we use for most printing, I bought a pack of 30gram 100% cotton ivory/ecru paper and matching 100% cotton envelops.  Wood pulp paper yellows and crumbles after only a few years, but cotton paper with last roughly a year per percent of cotton before showing any signs of age: 25% cotton = 25 years, 50% = 50 years and so forth.  After some diligent searching, I found some indelible archival printer ink on the inter-webs for our HP and I loaded each sheet and envelope into the printer by hand.  A note from my bride should be as crisp and clean for our great grand children to read as it was the day she sat down to write it with her glass dip pen and brown bulletproof ink.

She swooned a little bit when I gave it all to her 🙂

An update on the removal of the giant outdoor cat litter box.

As mentioned before, the previous owners of our home filled what used to be a cascading koi pond with a couple of years worth of used cat litter.  The removal of this “gift” was a project that I was NOT looking forward to, but it had to be done.  While it was officially still winter, I started the spring prep in the yard/garden and the litter box was the first project on my list.

I dug the bed out and hauled the old liner and kitty-nuggets away.  I had thought about turning the area into a raised root vegetable planter, but the thought of any leftover cat poo getting into my food gave me the shakes.  Stamps-With-Foot has been eyeing my vegetable boxes with intent to “ maybe add some flowers” so I decided to give her some space to plant non-edible flora in the backyard, which by agreement is my gardening domain.

There was already a course of interlocking wall block down, so I rearranged the foot print and after a trip to Home Depot for material, I laid four more courses down to give her a two foot tall planter with about  fourteen square feet of planting space.  (As a note, I have mad masonry hammer skills.)

After finishing the walls and filling the new planter with topsoil and a fresh layer of compost, I soaked the blocks with water and added moss bits from the old wall/garage roof to the seams because my little wife really likes the mossy look of old walls.  I blended some moss up with yogurt that next weekend and spread it on to assist the growth process.  By next summer the planter will look like it has been there for twenty years and the odd floral planting will not “happen” to show up next to my veggies.  The pics below show the original ivy-covered state and how it looked up until late summer.

When a 10 year old helps in the shop.

My son loves to make, assemble, deconstruct and alter stuff in my shop when he comes out for his summer visits.  This year I put his little butt to work on a project that I knew he would like, that would help me out, and would teach him something: organizing my tool and supply bins.  I know, I know, it sounds really crappy – like I am forcing my kids to fan me while Stamps-With-Foot feeds me grapes on the divan, but it was great, I swear.

My J-O-B was throwing out a couple sets of large metal card catalog bins and after asking permission, I snatched them out of the bin and took both right home.  I immediately filled every drawer with often used crap, but didn’t get around to labeling the fronts.  It has been that way for 2 years and I have to pull out 2 or 3 drawers until I find what I am looking for.  Every time I have to rifle around looking through each cubby, I swear to myself: “THIS weekend I and going to make labels!”  I am glad I waited.  Now The Ruminator (my son’s nickname) can tell the difference between a wood biscuit, a deck screw, a blue wire nut, trim screws, roofing nails and finish nails, just to name a few.  I have organized shop storage and handmade placards that I will always treasure and smile at every time I see them.

Desk Fetish

As previously noted, I have a certain almost unnatural attraction to desks.  While in Dubai a few weeks ago, I happened into a swanky furniture store.  It is the type of store that rich folk with vast oil deposits peruse. I walked in and marveled at the pieces and the prices for about 30 seconds, when a sales person was ON me.  She was nice and said I could stay, but followed me around the store for ten minutes.  She was fine with me taking pictures, I just wasn’t allowed to touch any of the gorgeous desks or sit in any chairs.  Fair enough…

There was no particle wood to be found.  all solid wood with a smattering of exotic veneers.  The jewel in their crown of desks was a huge cabinet desk that had a price tag of 71477.000 Dirham – that would equal $19455.13!  I was astounded, but I will admit that my heart was full of lust for that finely crafted writing destination.

Thursday has come again

What I want Thursday – August 11th, 2011:

  1. To get more sleep.  I find myself not going to bed before 1:00 most nights/mornings and I am up at 7ish.  It makes me grumpy.
  2. To find the drive and initiative to work out.  My cookie-handles have now connected with my pot belly and I am not amused, but I haven’t exactly done a great deal to address the situation.
  3. For my kids to have a great, productive, and interesting school year in 2011/2012. 
  4. I want my sister and Mother’s furniture to arrive from Texas so they can start feeling settled in Seattle.
  5. It would be great if my J-O-B cubical would stay spotless.  The 5S monster has come.
  6. I wish I could drink my coffee without sugar.  It would really help me shed the Santa-fat.
  7. Were in the HELL is my iPhone charging cord?!?!?!?!

How did I, of all people, miss this?!?!?!

Today is National Chocolate Chips Day!  Damn!!  Why didn’t I get some warning on this?!  I should already be well into my Chips Ahoy!-induced sugar coma – Face smeared with melted chips, shirt littered with crumbs, one shoe just gone, right hand clutching a batter encrusted beater, left hand resting on on an empty milk carton, and face etched with a smile…

The Original Tollhouse Cookie Recipe in below – Just like Mom makes!

  • 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 3/4 cup packed brown sugar
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 cups (12-oz. pkg.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

PREHEAT oven to 375° F.

COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.

BAKE for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

PAN COOKIE VARIATION: Grease 15 x 10-inch jelly-roll pan. Prepare dough as above. Spread into prepared pan. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown. Cool in pan on wire rack. Makes 4 dozen bars.

SLICE AND BAKE COOKIE VARIATION:
PREPARE
dough as above. Divide in half; wrap in waxed paper. Refrigerate for 1 hour or until firm. Shape each half into 15-inch log; wrap in wax paper. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.* Preheat oven to 375° F. Cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices; place on ungreased baking sheets. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely. Makes about 5 dozen cookies.

* May be stored in refrigerator for up to 1 week or in freezer for up to 8 weeks.

FOR HIGH ALTITUDE BAKING (5,200 feet): Increase flour to 2 1/2 cups. Add 2 teaspoons water with flour and reduce both granulated sugar and brown sugar to 2/3 cup each. Bake drop cookies for 8 to 10 minutes and pan cookie for 17 to 19 minutes.

So dad, I’ve been thinking…..

My son, who is deep thinker and a child that possess a vivid imagination came to me the other day and said, “Dad, we need to talk“. He had a stern and serious look on his face and he motioned to the table. I said “Alright buddy”, knowing that this was going to be good since the last time he got that look and we had to sit down, he asked me if I knew about Jesus and proselytized such that Jerry Fallwell would have been proud…  He is forever coming up with the funniest and often profound little quips: like yesterday when he told my wife that he had had the same Teddy Bear for his whole life, a bear that he clutches as he sleeps every night, and that when he got married his wife would have to just deal with him sleeping with Rocky Bear.

So, we sat down, me smirking with anticipation, and he says as he furred his brow and tapped all five fingers on the table for emphasis; “Daddy, I need you to tell me the truth. It is ok, I already know so you can tell me.” I was trying not to laugh when I answered, “Of course son, what do you want to know.”

Well, me and Hunter (his partner in crime) have been thinking (my son ruminates on things for months sometimes) and we figured it out, I know what you do.”

“Umm what exactly you mean…”

“Dad it is really ok, I know you’re a spy.”

Bwahaha! I’m a what!? Where in blue blazes did you come up with that one?! Who exactly am I a spy for?”

“You know us, the US, the CIA, like Jason Borne.”

“Son, I am not a spy”

“Look dad, you really need to tell someone, you’ll feel better and it might as well be me.”

Still laughing: “Son, why do you think I am a spy?”

“So, you fly all over the world, speak like 11 languages, have a pretty girl, a fast car with a TURBO, can do karate moves, have cool army guns, and not even mommy knows what you do for a living.”

My boy may be over-thinking and over-estimating my cool quotient, but God love him for it.

“Son, I am not a spy. I fly a lot for work – to fix airplanes & have crappy meetings – and I only speak 2.5 languages (poorly) and a few words of others here and there. You have been to my office – it’s boring.”

“Hunter said that it was a fake office like Mr. Smith’s (my 10 year old has SO not seen Mr. & Mrs. Smith…) and that its just to trick your enemies.”

I am almost peeing myself laughing at this point and it was made worse by the seriousness and earnestness of my child.

“My enemies… Son, I am not a spy.”

“Daddy, its ok. When you are ready you can tell me. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“Anyone except your friend Hunter…”

He raised an eyebrow at that and looked at me sideways, nodded his head knowingly and went back to playing with werewolf action figures and tormenting the dog with squeaky toys.

Hipsters on a plane

I was fortunate enough to share a seat row on a flight from Chicago to Seattle with a young female member of the hipster mafia.  She had all the proper accessories: skinny-jeans, a Mac book, plaid, roughed up messenger bag, an ironic tattoo, bed-hair and of course big goofy Steve Urkel glasses that had no lenses in the frames.  There were affirmative grunts to the flight attendant and 4 tiny (under 3oz for the TSA – thank you very much asshole London liquid bombers for making us all know what 3oz looks like…) bottles of hooch in Listerine containers to mix with her tomato juice.  The aroma of sweat, cheap booze, and stale pot smoke lingered faintly in the background – all while the aforementioned macbook placed a cheesy 1970’s horror flick – after which she cracked open “Dont Hassel the Hoff” and read with gusto – Not making any of this up!

There was no sharing of the seat arm.  No ‘excuse me’ for repeatedly bumping into me while arranging the contents of her bag or when reaching across my face and over my book for another clandestined drink mixer.  Nope, I was sitting next to a late 20 something 15 year old.  It was not awesome.

So this is what we have wrought?  All our blog posts about nerd culture, bikes, beer snobbery, bluegrass, how amazing old vinyl is, and laments for the way things were back in the days when Kevin Bacon’s Footloose was cool and before we got real jobs working for the man.  We caused this – you and I with our own smugness.  Our own blathering on and on about bike polo and hot nerdy girls.  Our fault.

This girl and maybe millions like her are the worker bees that will fund the twilight of SSI and try to figure out how to clean up the mess we, our parents, and our grand parents have made of things here on terra firma.  We’re fucked.  How in the bejesus is all that going to happen when The League of Hipster Youth is trying, this very minute, to figure out how to extend their stay in mom’s basement indefinantly so they can use “their” money for music, handmade bikes, Apple products, PBR, and primo hindukush?!  Again, we’re fucked.

What I want Thursday:

  1. More time with my children. No one ends this life with the thought – ‘Man, I should of spent more time working...’
  2. The Longines 2011 24hr watch. Unveiled at Basel World 2011 and is an update of the Classic Swiss Air pilots watch custom made for the airline in the 1950s. It has a half-hunter case that NEEDS a picture of my wife and kids in it.
  3. A great sport coat that looks as good with jeans as it does with a tie and slacks.
  4. For my birthday to finally arrive so that I do not feel bad about buying an iPad2.  I both need and want a new computer and I figured out that I can do 95% of what I need to do on a daily basis on a pad.  As soon as I can open and edit CAD file reliably, then it will be 100%.  I have started lusting.

Good laws

Sometimes I get reminded that my job really isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things and that I am a dumb-ass.  Such was the case when I got pulled over for talking on my cell on the way to work.  The police officer asked me why I was talking on said phone and I told him, “because I’m and idiot.”  He nodded in agreement and handed me a ticket for $240.  I am not the least bit butt-hurt about this ticket.  I fully deserved it.  I will not be talking on the phone while driving again and I hope the funds go to schools or the library.

Speaking of good laws: the City of Seattle now says it is a crime (fine included) to not scoop up after your dog.  I couldn’t be happier.  I hate to find a big steaming pile of dog deuce on my fresh mowed grass (it happens a lot) and I curse both the dropper and their owner.  No, like a real curse, not just dirty words, but I do throw a couple of those in for good measure.  It usually sounds something like: “May your kibble forever taste like the poop you dropped on my lawn, may fleas torment you, and my your dog snack on your warm corpse after you have a painful demise alone at home…” I do what I can for the cause…

Thursday wish list – 6/30/11

What I Want Thursday was meant to be a weekly post but due to the realities of my J-O-B and growing list of home improvement projects, it has now become a bi-monthly (hopefully…) utterance.   For this Thursday I would like:

  1. For traffic to slow the fvck down on 35th Ave! – A ticket was handed out last week for 62mph in a 35mph zone and 50+ seems to be the norm.
  2. For my kids to write me real snail-mail letters in addition to dialing the phone, typing a single line e-mail, or sending me a text.  I do not want my generation to be the last that prizes personal tangible communication.  I want my children to send Thank You cards, notes of congratulations, and sympathy.  Manners are small gifts we give to other people, often strangers, that mean so very much…
  3. For my kitchen remodel to be finished and done with. I would like a celebratory breakfast of bacon, eggs, fine pressed coffee, OJ, flakey croissants, and lavender honey at the table in the breakfast nook.  I would like a morning free of worry and noise to enjoy my breakfast in our new clean, bright, painted kitchen, while reading the day’s International Herald Tribune.
  4. Some BADASS/useful luggage for my frequent international travel. No more fvcking roller wheels!!  Real bags, that look good with jeans or a suit.   I like this one from Monocle, A similar one from a guy in Portland, and a new laptop messenger from Timbuck2 in all black.
  5. More book shelves. I need 8’ or so of shelf space in the office, 4’ in the kitchen for our cookbooks, and 3-5’ in our master bedroom to accommodate our home library.  Some cool bookend would be snazzy as well.  These or these or these would work nicely.
  6. For iTunes to realize I do not live in Germany anymore and to FINALLY switch my account over to a US one. Every time I buy a song or app, I get charged in Euros and I have to call in, explain the issue for the umpteenth time and they send me a refund for the difference in 10-14 days.

All Trans Air

My wife, one of her buddies, and I went to the Pride Parade this past Sunday in Seattle’s Capital Hill.  We have some particularly flamboyant friends and as New York State just legalized same-sex marriage, it felt like an auspicious time see a parade and show some support.

Holy good googamooga!  The people watching was AMAZING – participants and crowd alike.  The leather-clad manly-ladies on Harley’s were interesting, the naked bicyclists were not, well except for the one guy who had his junk tucked in the slit of his bike seat – dangling strait down through the gap.  While mildly disturbing, we couldn’t stop depating the outcome if he were to fall off his bike and if said junk would stay attached or not…  There were a couple groups of leather-man, all wrapped in black leather and shinny studs with a guy in the back twirling and cracking twin studded whips.  Scary on so many levels, but the papa-bear with the whips had amazing control.  Some of the floats were very funny, but the best of the parade, for me, had a hysterical airplane theme.  Since the aviation business puts food on our table, will send my kids to college, and I spend an inordinate amount of time working on and flying in aircraft, I have a natural affinity for related topics.  Yep, the float of the day was: ALL TRANS AIR.  The flight attendants were well quaffed, smiling, happy and came equipped with Adam’s apples.

The crowd gathered in Seattle Center was a site to see as well, lots of hot pants.  Tiny purple hot pants.  Tiny purple hot pants on a misshapen 60 year old man…  There were bears and twinks, butches and lipsticks.  Funny t-shirts and no shirts.  The grass in front of the stage area was a sea of pink and rainbow flags.  Some of the ladies from ALL TRANS AIR were on the main stage lip-syncing and I met what must be the biggest, toughest tranny on earth.  There is a picture on her/him below sitting down, with his sparkly red Judy Garland shoes neatly tucked beneath the chair.  While sitting, his/her head was at the same level as Stamp-With-Foot.  This lady was probally 6’5″ and 280lbs+ before the pumps and lace added height and girth.  I text messaged the same picture as below to my mom and added “Thinking of you”

My Kindle e-reader is about to be even more awesome!

I was reading the Seattle Times on my Kindle saturday morning while having my coffee and croissant and what appears before me: “Owners of the Kindle from Amazon will be able to download e-books from 11,000 U.S. libraries later this year, the company said Wednesday.” This is HUGE.  The one reason that I ever even give the Nook a passing glance is because I could use it at the library.  Living a few houses from my local branch has saved us some cash, but my wife mentioned last week that my e-book shopping is getting spendy.  Problem solved!  Man, I want to hop up from my bench, drop my oar and dance in the bilge, err I mean push away from my keyboard, leave my perfectly 5S’ed cubicle, and see the sun outside.

Neurotic Puppy

Anytime my wife leaves the house, the dog runs to the window, watches her walk out of the gate, puts on the saddest puppy face you have ever seen, and whimpers like she is never coming home. He then quickly looks over at me like he is trying to say, “Do SOMETHING pink monkey!! She is getting away!” He then sulks for a couple of hours. If Stamps-With-Foot is gone for more than a day, he acclimates and we turn into big buds, he follows me around the house/yard, snuggles at bed time, and hangs out with me if I am reading or watching TV. That dog has it great when it is just him and me: unlimited bacon, I don’t blaming him for the gas smell that was probably me, walks in the park, cream cheese at C&P coffee, no baths, rough housing, ball throwing, ear scratching, his food heated up, and cat chasing to his heart’s content.

All bets are off though when she walks back in the door. He runs up and puts on a ten minute show of how much he loved and missed her like I beat him and made him wear fuzzy booties and have Tea Party with Kung Fu grip GI Joe, Han Solo, and some troll dolls.

This is “The Look” and below is the background music in his head when the gate swings shut and he is not prancing out of it with her connected via a leash… 

 

Sometimes I am too damn handy.

I have, for years, prided myself on my ability to make or fix just about anything found in our home or yard. Instead of having to hire a repairman or contractor, I have just done it all myself. That sounds smug, but I don’t mean for it to be – bear with me and you’ll see where this is going…

In the years since I met my wife, I have made: squirrel feeders, two loft beds, cutting tables (sewing), bird houses, 5 cutting boards, bookshelves, 2 hutches, kitchen cabinets, a hall tree, reupholstered chairs, refinished countless pieces of furniture, designed/built drawer organizers, patched walls, made a bat house (?!), hung drywall, sewn dresses, painted countless rooms (one with 5 coats of paint…), unclogged toilets & sinks, said some dirty words, welded a bumper, made a working boomerang for my son, etched glass, rescued old furniture from the burn pile, repaired a ukulele & 2 guitars, built window box planters, installed crown molding and fancy trim, bound books, constructed pellet gun targets, fixed printers/plotters, organized crap, made many of my own hand tools, hung doors, planted a garden, cleaned gutters, reseeded lawns, planted a mini-orchard, baked bread, made 2 yards Ireland-green, hung light fixtures, split firewood, soldered pipes, installed irrigation systems, pulled dents from two fenders, cut down trees, built 2 decks, sharpened countless kitchen knives, BBQed like a spatula wielding God, crafted raised garden boxes, installed 4 wireless home networks, baked turkeys, epoxied stuff back together, framed pictures, made pies, rewired lights & switches, changed automotive oil, installed shocks, brewed beer, hung about a 1000 pictures, replaced an intake manifold gasket, rewired the TV and remote, built-up 8 bikes, re-glazed windows, built PCs, replaced/rekeyed locks, and have been the entire family’s Computer Help Desk – on call 24hrs a day...

While this has saved me a few bucks here and there, it has had a couple of unwanted effects as well. 1: While I CAN fix this stuff, I don’t have the time to work, write, see the kids, snuggle my wife, and walk the dog and still take care of all the crap on my list of stuff to fix or build. 2: My wife knows I can do it all and so she is forever finding new tasks for me AND she breaks shit constantly. Now, the first thing is just one of those parts of married life that one has to just accept. It is like the 9th unwritten wedding vow: Do you, __________, promise to trap mice, carry grocery bags, repair the little things on the coming honey-do list, and put the toilet seat down, so long as you both shall live?

The second issue is more an unconscious development than a malicious attack on our household goods. Some examples:

  1. A cutting board gets left in a sink of water overnight and warps/splits. “It’s OK, you can fix it right?” She says when I find it in the morning and make the grumpy face…
  2. Kid who worked at the grocery store puts HUGE dent in car door with a train of shopping carts. No report is made. “Can you smooth that out?”
  3. First day in our home in Seattle… Me: Don’t use your hair dryer upstairs, the old wiring can’t handle it. Her: OK. After two tripped breakers when she plugged it in anyway the next morning, I found myself at the bottom of the stairs, crumpled in a ball, with a dislocated shoulder after I fell down said stairs trying to turn the breaker back on.
  4. Me: “Where is my bike lock cable?” Her: “Oh, that… I used it the other day and it fell off my bike somewhere and I didn’t notice.”

It is my fault, I have trained her to be this way – it is a learned behavior. If we had to pay cold hard cash for all the little/huge messes/dents/dings/cracks that seem to follow Stamps-With-Foot she would be more careful. I love my wife. She is amazing in so many ways – in most ways, but I swear the very next thing time I have to fix around the house (caused by her own personal tornado), my lovely/girly/sweet wife is going to get covered in sawdust, mud, paint, goo, putty, primer, glue, stain, and gunk – just because.

What I Want Thursday

This is blatant plagiarism. I slipped into the Wikipedia hole for like three hours this weekend and came out on a girl’s blog that was really sad: hurt, suicide, illness… but I did find a bright spot, one might argue the only one: She had a number of “What I want Thursday” posts. They were funny and sweet and made me think a couple of times – so I am stealing the idea. Is it plagiarism if I admit the theft? Probally.

So, to follow is my inaugural go:

  1. Better Penmanship – My handwritting is terrible , like a seventy-five year old doctor with the shakes writing a prescription terrible.
  2. A fine prosperous garden – As much for my ego as for our table and pocket book
  3. Custom letter-press stationary – Everyone should have their own!
  4. A clean, tidy and simple home – La Maison du Talley is currently flooded with the clutter of half done projects, piles in the basemet destined for Goodwill, and like 20 banana boxes of crap we are storing for other people.
  5. To finally finish the book I am writing about living in Hamburg
  6. A clean shop – Projects, sawdust, bike parts, and garden tools strewn about in a rushed haphazard manner.
  7. For my neighbor’s pine tree to die – I have cleaned my gutters three times in 2011 and they are full AGAIN. I have serious hate for that tree.
  8. Peace in the Middle East – I am throwing that on in because I, like the rest of humanity, really DO want it and because I am feeling like the rest of the list is all about me and flirts with self-absorbed douchebaggery.