Rock Show Update

If'n any of yous are innersted in seein' how the rock garden came out, take a gander at my soulmate's blog. She posted some purdy pitchers of it there. The miniature lighthouse that I planned to put on top may not happen. Partly 'cause it isn't necessary and partly 'cause it'd prolly get stole right off.
Why am I writing like a hillbilly? Stop it!

A'mowing we will go...

We went up to the "wee house" today. It was time to mow the grass and do whatever other chores made themselves evident. What a beautiful day! It was totally quiet. Warm in the sun but cool in the shade.
I found a robin's nest on top of a step ladder that I have hanging on the side of the out building. I thought the nest would be empty by now, but no. The mother robin is still on the nest. I frightened her off the nest a couple of times in order to get a shovel that was hanging next to the ladder. To compensate her for her troubles, I filled a shallow earthenware dish with water and left it nearby for her to drink and bathe in. It hasn't rained up there in quite awhile so the usual watering holes have dried up.
The lawn mowing and weed trimming took so long that I didn't have time to wash the vinyl siding like I wanted to. That will be the next project. Probably next weekend. The association will be celebrating Independence Day this weekend as well. Peace and quiet will probably retreat higher up the mountain for a couple of days. Then it will be July! I put a fresh coat of preservative on the deck every July, so that will be a good reason to spend a couple more days there.
If my writing style seems to have changed, it's probably because I'm being influenced by a book I'm reading. It's called "One Man's Wilderness". It's the story of Richard Proenneke, a man who dreamed of living in the wilderness and made it happen. This story is his account of the day-to-day activities and explorations, from supplying his own food and building his own cabin at Twin Lakes in Lake Clark National Park, Alaska. He was 51 years old when his adventure began. His writing style is short, curt sentences, often without a subject noun or verb. For example, "Up at 4:00. Minus 48 degrees. Sourdough biscuits and honey for breakfast." He was quite a talented guy: Stone mason, carpenter, tinsmith, cook, hunter/gatherer/fisherman, survivalist, and naturalist. One article I read said he stayed on at his little cabin until the cold winters forced him out when he was 82! He died 4 years later. I don't know how he managed the loneliness but I admire him for living his life to the beat of his own drum.

Mysterious Mystifying Mystery

The picture above my desk, that my sister painted, is tilted slightly to the left this morning. It wasn't tilted like that yesterday. We haven't had an earthquake. I didn't bump it. So, what happened?
I can come up with only one logical explanation. Yesterday was the 92nd anniversary of my dad's birthday. (He died 10 years ago.) But here's the deal: He was a staunch Republican. My sister and I are staunch anti-Republicans. I figure that his spirit stopped by my desk last night and deliberately tilted the picture - TO THE LEFT - as a reminder that my left-leaning political viewpoint is askew. He could be kind-of passive/aggressive like that.
On the other hand, maybe our house is sinking into the bay. In which case, the picture is straight and the house is tilted!

Sweet Sounds

Diana Krall has a concert DVD called "Diana Krall, Live In Paris". I happened to come across it at the library yesterday. It is 90 minutes of fabulous music plus 40 minutes of added features. The DVD was released in 2002 but the concert was performed in 2001. Why wasn't I informed before now?!!! Heads will roll! Okay, maybe MY head should roll. I call myself a Diana Krall fan, so I should have known about this DVD before now. Thanks, Library!
Here are my favorite songs from the DVD: The Look of Love, Maybe You'll Be There, Cry Me a River, Under My Skin, East of the Sun, I Get Along, S'Wonderful, Love Letters, Do It Again, Let's Face the Music, and A Case of You. I like the soft ballads so much that I tend to get antsy when she plays up-tempo numbers like Devil May Care, even though those songs are just as good, technically.
Not only is the music great, the production quality is excellent as well. The camera work and the editing are exceptional. When you see the close-ups, you'd think the cameraman was sitting inside the Steinway but when they cut to a long shot, there are no cameramen in sight.
Those old love songs pull at my heart strings. It's wonderful to hear them played again the way they were meant to be played. Thanks, Diana. (Just in case she reads this blog. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)

The Rock Show

We moved into this house one year ago. The builder was obligated by contract to some basic landscaping that included hydro-seeding the yard, flower beds and some ornamental grasses.
That's the way the place has looked since we moved in. Not necessarily because we were thrilled with the landscaping plan, but because we didn't know what else to do.
Our house sits on a corner lot so one corner of our yard is at the corner of the block. In that corner of our yard, the builder put a flower bed with a few of ornamental grasses and pine bark mulch.
I have been toying with different ideas for that corner. First, I wanted to put a multi-trunk white birch there surrounded by purple heather. Then, I realized that a multi-trunk white birch in that location would totally block drivers' view around the corner from two directions. So, that idea was out.
Then I thought we might put the front half of an old boat out there with plants all around. But I found out that even 1/2 a boat weighs a ton - if you can find one - so I gave that idea up too. Nonetheless, by that time, I was stuck on the seashore theme - partly because our street is named "Harbor Side".
One of the ornamental grasses we have is pale blue and looks all spikey, like a small blue fireworks explosion. That gave me the idea that maybe the grass could be incorporated in a rock garden to look like little bursts of water splashing against boulders.
Aha! Suddenly a vision took form: A rock garden that looks like a miniature sea shore, with a light house and "water" crashing against the rocks.
Five boulders and about a ton of river rock later, we have the beginnings of an organized rock garden. We set all the rocks today. Then we went to Lowe's and bought a dozen plants to place in the garden. I'm going to set the plants tomorrow and see how they look. We'll probably need to get more plants, but, at this point, I'm happy with the way it looks.
If I knew how to post photos, I'd share the project with you in a somewhat step-by-step basis.
Maybe tomorrow.

Small Sad World

Do you remember the news report several weeks ago concerning the two college students whose identities were mixed up following a serious automobile accident? http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13067706/

Well, in keeping with the "small world" theory, it turns out that the girl who died was our neighbor's niece. Too too sad.

Before the accident, we saw our neighbors almost daily. Since the accident, we haven't seen them outside the house once. It seemed like the day after they got back from the funeral, their 4 kids were off to spend the summer with relatives in Michigan. The mom and dad have been gone all day every day since the kids left. Occasionally, we see an interior light on late at night, but most of the time both of their cars are gone and the house is empty. I'm guessing they decided to throw themselves into their jobs to get over the shock and try to get back in touch with reality. I dunno. If I ever get a chance to talk to them again, I'll try to find out.

Dad's Day

Here's a fascinating fact:
Mrs. John B. Dodd, of Washington, first proposed the idea of a "father's day" in 1909. Mrs. Dodd wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart. William Smart, a Civil War veteran, was widowed when his wife (Mrs. Dodd's mother) died in childbirth with their sixth child. Mr. Smart was left to raise the newborn and his other five children by himself on a rural farm in eastern Washington state. As a result of Mrs. Dodd's efforts, the first Father's Day was celebrated in Spokane, Washington on June 19, 1910!
Here's another fun factoid:
The third Sunday in June wasn't designated as the official Father's Day until 1966! I was 22 years old in 1966! I'm positive my family celebrated Father's Day before then! Maybe it was "unofficially" celebrated on the third Sunday before then. Who cares? Let's move on.
I am the proud father of 4 amazing sons. Each has brought me joy and pride beyond measure. I am the luckiest Dad in the world. My only wish, is that we lived closer together.
If you're my age, you're probably remembering your father after his death. My dad passed away 10 years ago, at the age of 82. He lived 8-10 years longer than anyone else on his side of the family, so I guess he did something right. He never drank, never smoked, and never even swore! But he worried a lot. He might have lived even longer if he hadn't been such a worrywort.
My dad gave me a lot: Male pattern baldness, hypertension, hypo-thyroidism, pernicious anemia...Thanks Pa!
I'm just glad that he died before my mom did. He wouldn't have lasted 6 months without her.
His ashes were sprinkled over the graves of his parents, per his request. But my mom saved a sandwich bag full to sprinkle near the simple headstones they had purchased for each other. I went to the cemetery with her the day she spread them on the ground. I didn't expect it, but the image of her wrinkled hand, with her wedding band, spreading his ashes on the ground is indelibly etched on my brain. I don't have any idea what was going through her mind, but I got the feeling she was thinking, "Wait here, Jack. I'll be with you soon."
Four years later, we spread her ashes on the same spot.
I haven't been back there since.

Heart Stoppers

Here's something that will take your breath away. If you're like me, the longer you watch, the lower your jaw will drop in utter amazement and dismay.
http://nationalpriorities.org/index.php?option=com_wrapper&Itemid=182

The Lone Ranger

I recently discovered an outstanding political cartoonist named Don Wright. http://www.palmbeachpost.com/blogs/content/shared-blogs/palmbeach/donwright/

Don works for the Palm Beach Post, in Palm Beach, Florida. I assume his cartoons are seen on many other Editorial pages throughout the country, but since I don't subscribe to any, I wouldn't know for sure.

A couple of thing have me puzzled:
First, it surprises me how few comments his recent cartoons have generated at his newspaper's blog site. After all, his cartoons score direct hits on Republicans in Jeb Bush's home state! Has he smoked out the Moron Majority in one of its own hives?
Secondly, why would he choose to work in a state that is so strongly anti-intellectual in its population? Thousands of blue-hairs must have cancelled their subscriptions at one time or another because of Don's cartoons.

He's like the Lone Ranger camped in a box canyon that's surrounded by bad guys with Winchesters. Watch out, Kimosabe!

Where Were You in '72?

Here's a pop quiz for 45+ year-olds: Last Friday was the 34th anniversary of a major weather event. Do you remember it?
1972 - On June 9, strong easterly surface winds pushed moisture laden air against the Black Hills. Nearly stationary thunderstorms developed and dropped up to 15 inches of rain in about six hours along the eastern slopes of the Black Hills. Record flows were reported on tributaries of the Cheyenne River including Rapid Creek, Boxelder Creek, Battle Creek and Bear Butte Creek. The flood claimed 238 lives and caused $164 million in property damage ($664 million 2002 dollars). Canyon Lake breached, adding to the wall of water that poured through Rapid City. Flow on Rapid Creek was estimated at over 10,000 cubic feet per second. Following the flood, approximately 750 acres of land adjacent to Rapid Creek was designated as a floodway.
I'd wager that, unless you were there, or had friends/relatives living there, you don't remember it - or never knew it happened.
I was in Rapid City on June 9, 1972. It was the last day of a 3-day visit to the Black Hills. As fate would have it, I overstayed my planned departure time which caused me to change my travel plans back to Nebraska. Originally, I planned to drive through the Hills and exit the south end at Hot Springs. But since I stayed so long in Rapid City, I decided to take the shorter route which ran just east of the Hills. About 20 miles south of Rapid City I ran into rain so heavy that I couldn't see the road. I couldn't even see the front of my car! It was the heaviest, most blinding rain/hail storm I've ever encountered. I crept over to the side of the highway and stopped. I sat there for at least 10 minutes hoping that I wouldn't get rear-ended by an 18-wheeler or some other knucklehead. After 10-15 minutes of torrential rain, I took advantage of a brief let-up to continue south. The rain decreased steadily as I drove farther south. By the time I got about 75 miles south of Rapid City, the rain ended and I continued to Nebraska unscathed.
Later that night, as I was nearing my Nebraska home, I heard the first news reports of flooding near Rapid City.
The next day, I learned of the disaster that cut a swath of death and destruction from Keystone through Rapid City.
I immediately recalled my original plan to drive home through the Hills, via Keystone, and I had to wonder, "If I hadn't stayed so long in Rapid City, where in the Hills would I have been when the flooding started?"
There are some shocking photos of the flood's aftermath at: http://sd.water.usgs.gov/projects/1972flood/photos.html

Good Intentions

Some weeks ago, I wrote that I intended to send more greeting cards. I said that card-shopping was good therapy and I wanted to share the funny cards I found with friends. Well, if you've been waiting for one of those cards, I want you to know you're not alone. I haven't sent a single one. Why is that?!
One might conclude that I've been in such good spirits lately that I haven't needed to lift my mood with greeting card humor. In truth, one should conclude that I simply keep forgetting to stop by the greeting card display. I'll stop by one today. I promise.
Speaking of good intentions: I-5 was completely shut down at the Canadian border for 6 hours last weekend so 200-300 people would wander around Peach Arch Park and celebrate umpty-hundred years of peaceful co-existance between the U.S. and Canada. Go tell that to the THOUSANDS of angry, frustrated people who had to divert to other border crossings and wait in line HOURS to get across. I'm guessing that, all tolled, more ill will than good will was generated between our two countries that day.

Travelin' Man

I'm just back from two and one-half fun-filled days visiting friends where we used to live. The drive over the Cascades via the North Cascades Highway (20) was spectacular. Waterfalls are gushing down the sides of every mountain. The sky was bright blue, the trees a deep green, and the snow along the side of the road at Washington Pass is still about 4 feet deep. When I arrived at my destination, I sat outside with my host and his wife on their beautiful deck listening to their fountain, drinking some adult beverages, and enjoying the mild afternoon temperatures. Around 5:00, we were joined by another couple for a delicious outdoor dinner, more beverages, and pleasant conversation. I had a great time.
Early the next morning, my host and I joined our mutual friend at the golf course for a 6:30 tee time. I'm not a golfer, so I drove the cart, held the flag, kept score, and tracked the shots. The weather couldn't have been more perfect. I couldn't believe that we finished 18 holes and were off the course before 9:00! After golf, we all drove to the mutual friend's brand new house that is perched on the highest lot overlooking the golf course and the surrounding hillsides. I could go on for many paragraphs describing the house, but I won't. Suffice it to say, it's friggin' awesome.
When we finished touring the new house, my host and I went back to his house (which is also beautiful, by the way) for a quick sandwich before heading out on a bike ride. We transported the bikes to a parking lot near an asphalt trail that follows the river. I rode the same trail about ten years (and 15 pounds) ago, so I knew what to expect. What I didn't expect was how fast my energy waned. Sheesh! After about an hour, I cried "Uncle!" so we reversed course and headed for the car. As fate would have it, the minute we got back to the house and unloaded the bikes, the sky opened up and unloaded the rain.
Fortunately, the rain didn't keep my host from grilling what he calls "beer butt chicken" for dinner. Man oh man! It was delicious! The "beer butt" comes from the part of the recipe where you set the chicken over a 1/2-full can of beer on the grill. The steam from the beer tenderizes, moisturizes, and flavors the chicken from the inside out as it cooks. Ummm, good!
The next morning it was still raining, so we had a leisurely breakfast of sausages, toast, and scrambled eggs. Before long, the sky started to clear and we were off on a hike! My friend is planning to hike the Grand Canyon next fall, so he's getting in shape by hiking up a steep hill several times each week with 4 gallons of water in his backpack. He says that in addition to carrying their own water for the 4-day hike, he'll also be toting his tent, sleeping bag, clothes, and food! If four gallons of water weigh about 30 pounds, I'm guessing that he'll be carrying about 50-60 pounds when he's fully loaded! Oh, my back hurts just thinking about it! WATCH YOUR FOOTING, AMIGO!
After our hike, we went downtown where I bought a new DVD player. Then, we headed over to one of our favorite drinking establishments for a bite and to meet more of the folks we used to work with. That was really nice. We both appreciated the time those folks took from their very busy schedules to have a couple of beers with us. I had time for more than a couple of beers. Our "Happy Hour" broke up about the time the real happy hour was getting started.
My host and I drove back over to our friend's new house for dinner with him and his wife. Once again, every thing was perfect, including the weather, the food, the conversation, and the views from their deck.
Too soon, it was Friday morning and time for me to go. I took a different route back home, which saved about 45 minutes, but wasn't nearly as scenic as highway 20. When I got home and crawled out of the car, the left side of my back felt like I had been shot! Man, it was sore! I went inside, kissed my bride, and asked her to rub some Theragesic on my back. What a homecoming!
Today, the soreness is gone and all's right with the world once again.
If any of the folks I saw on Wednesday or Thursday read this entry, I want to say, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. I HAD A GREAT TIME AND I MISS YOU ALL.

Memorial Day

Dear Charlie, http://www.flyarmy.org/K12130.HTM

Next year will mark the 40th anniversary of your death in Vietnam. Forty years of life that you were denied because you, and I, believed the lies our political leaders told us about the "threat of communism". Remember? "If we don't stop the commies in Vietnam now, they'll invade the Philippines, then Hawaii, and before long we'll be fighting them on the beaches of California." Yeah, right. Bullshit.
I am writing this entry to declare that I have not forgotten you, Charlie. Whenever I hear a Huey, smell jet fuel, see a military cemetery or the Vietnam memorial and every Memorial Day, I think of you.
I've lost my hair and put on 40 pounds. You'll always be a 22-year old kid whose quiet confidence is hidden behind that goofy grin of yours.
I don't know where you are. I know you're not at the Vietnam Memorial. I visited there, read your name and made a rubbing of it. But it didn't feel like you were there. Don't get me wrong!The wall is a nice tribute to all those who didn't come home and I hope everyone who sees their reflection in the wall realizes that their name could be on a wall one day. But you weren't there. Maybe that's because you're in the minds of all of us who knew you. So, in a way, you did come home after all.