zombie & Rhubarb Pie

Have a great weekend

2008-08-14T21:56:00.001-04:00

See everyone on Monday, I'm off to ride North Carolina.

Illo Friday - Sail

2008-08-10T18:42:00.009-04:00

Once again, because life has gotten in the way of things that I used to enjoy and as I try to get centered again, I decided to give Illustration Friday a shot.

This week’s topic is, “Sail”. The illustration has little meaning other than the overtly obvious. While I usually work with traditional media, I decided to give the Mac a shot at this one.

Nickels for Fare Back

2008-08-10T12:41:00.008-04:00

Definitely a busy weekend, if not overly interesting. Awoke early yesterday to make sure that I got my bike to the indy shop to prepare for the upcoming trip down to South Carolina. Returning around 2pm and 160 miles later, the bike had new tires and a tune up and she felt good, so good I really had to take the long way home through the twisty roads and inevitably received a mild sunburn for my escapades.

Arriving home, we headed out to the optometrist to get fitted for new glasses and while my choice of frames was truly spectacular, the fitting left something to be desire and I’m currently wearing my old glasses until I can have them refitted.

Ultimately the entire day was just fodder for what I considered the epoch of the day, and I daresay perhaps the week. I’ve been toying with the idea for several years of purchasing a digital SLR camera and after drooling over Mel’s new camera I decided to make the leap and bought the Sony DSLR-350. While the instruction manual is more complex than my college text books in macroeconomics, it’s still relatively easy to use and I couldn’t be happier.

The batteries charged, I headed down the street and into town where the strangest things have been happening. I’m not sure what to make of it, but the county has been purchasing buildings, lots and businesses along the main thoroughfare and tearing them down. The most recent victim, the Greyhound bus terminal down and across the street from my house, and many other business stand vacant to receive a similar fate, each with what is becoming a familiar white sign posted out front, “Property of Prince William County; No Trespassing”.

I believe they’re planning on creating a “historic” district that is pedestrian friendly which shops and café’s. This at least is my hope as they’ve held several town hall meetings to discuss zoning and creating what they are calling pocket communities (which my house is in the center of). I had not heard of the outcome, but I’m excited to see what comes of it.

Now I get to go mow the grass.

Opinions

2008-08-07T21:19:00.003-04:00

I’ve always told people that I’m unoffendable; the way I’ve always looked at things is, if it’s the truth, then how can you argue the fact, and if it’s a lie then what’s the point other than argue the difference, but at what point would you be offended. Take for example I told you that your mother wore combat boots…if she does, then how can you be offended, it’s a fact, and if she doesn’t then what does it matter other than to say, “B.S., you don’t even know my mother.” See? Unoffendable!

Now, with that said, that doesn’t mean that I don’t get pissed, angry or irate; quite the contrary, if you mess with my department, do not expect me to quietly lay down and allow it to happen just because you’ve never had anyone that was willing to confront you before, especially when the issue is customer facing and in fact you’re the one that dropped the ball.

This was the beginning of a rant that I wrestled with posting and inevitably decided not to (I even had the entire thing typed out). While I didn’t name names or companies I wondered if it might be in poor taste to post goings on within my organization even though the individual I was ranting about apparently had no qualms with doing the same, except she did name names.

Opinions?

Where have all the good times gone

2008-08-06T19:08:00.001-04:00

Tonight was my turn to pick up the little critters; I watch them playing and the excitement of my daughter to show me new things that she's learned how to do that are seemingly too mundane for me to mention. Tossing a balloon into the air and catching it and doing jumping jacks yelling, “Shikawawa weehoo!” while my son announces happily a new episode of “Speed Racer Next Generation” is on and I have to wonder when I lost the excitement for things.

I'm not talking about the excitement of a new car, or seeing the kids after a long day of work, but a genuine elation at just about everything in life. Now I think I need to mention I'm not one of these moody type of folks that looks at the world through nuclear explosion tainted glasses, quite the contrary, I'm generally in a great mood, but I've definitely lost that excitement of waking to a new dawn, grabbing some sugary cereal and catching a new episode of my favorite cartoon.

It seems I'm not the only one. Is the fun of being a kid simply the innocence that's lost as we age or is it like that coffee we enjoyed so thoroughly at the beginning of the day that becomes common and ordinary and loses its impact because it's no longer special.

We're ordering pepperoni pizza tonight

Nighttime meanderings

2008-08-05T20:22:00.003-04:00

The meat…um, meek shall inherit the earth and between Tanya, Dale and myself it seems that the insidious plot of the meat…er, meek to wipe out the human population is medium well underway. The trend is rather apparent…the signs are there; with all the intelligence gathering agencies currently in employed by the gooberment, how are we completely blind to the revenge of the rodents, the bombardment by Bambi and the conspiracy of the cows?

My answer; contrary to what Disney would have us believe, animals can’t talk. Clever that way aren’t they.

To illustrate my point, a couple weekends ago, the heat of the day gave way to an evening temperate enough to open the windows and catch the night breeze.

The crickets chirped and the frogs croaked and a cool draft carried the distinct smell of bay through the windows, it wasn’t long before I was gone and hoping a rendezvous with a supermodel wasn’t out of the question (they have restraining orders in my dreams). That was until around 2:30 in the morning when voices woke me from my slumber.

Tense and ready to strike at any threat, I listen for the nocturnal conversation that awoke me when I hear the rustling of weeds outside my bedroom window. Putting on my glasses and parting the curtains, I search for movement, but its overcast and way too dark to see. I can still hear them moving through the weeds.

Now perhaps I’m wrong, but my thoughts are anyone wandering around my house at 2:30 in the morning, talking to their companion…partner in crime, is probably up to no good, and with that knowledge I throw on a pair of jeans and crawl out of bed to investigate.

Got my can of whoop-ass, 6-D cell mag light and some other things; out the front door I go as to not let them know I’m coming, I circle around back, careful not to step on anything that would give away my position.

They’re still there, I hear them moving through the weeds, pausing occasionally then moving again. “They’re lookin for a way into my house,” I thought to myself, “well, they picked the wrong damn house”.

Ready for a confrontation, I click on the flashlight, aim it in the direction I heard the movement and shout, “Don’t even think about moving.” Yes…I’m that verbose even when not typing.

Deer…five by my count, and no sooner had I shouted my orders when they took off like a politician to a photo op.

I watch the deer, tails raised, beat a retreat when something slams into my legs from behind. Down I go, head smashing into the wall as something pummels me from the rear. Fighting, I roll over to fend off my attacker, but as soon as the onslaught began, it’s over and it's gone.

I failed to realize I had my back turned to a sixth deer munching the weeds under my bedroom window…and I had completely blocked her escape route. With no way to go around me, she went through me. A 40 pound deer completely and soundly kicked my ass.

Dirty, beat up and bruised I head back into the house. I dust myself off and get ready to climb back into bed when I hear the voice again; the voice that woke me up to begin with…kind of muffled…I’ve heard that voice before. I head to my daughter’s room and sure enough, my wife had put my daughter’s favorite talking doll in her crib. “I love you,” it said again as my daughter rolled over on top of it.

The plot is afoot or ahand…whatever. It’s a conspiracy.

Joined the Dark Side

2008-08-04T21:15:00.004-04:00

I guess I have to caveat this with I'm in no way shape or a form a Star Wars fan; in fact I pretty much reject the entire series, but that's another story. No, what I'm referring to is the return to my youth and the purchase of a Macbook Pro (ok, well...I didn't have a Mac as a youth, but had the Apple IIe Plus). It was actually a relatively painless decision given the alternative of Windows Vista....oooh, I gotta get me some of that. The fact that Mac was running a deal for students with $200 off the laptop and a free IPod only sweetened the deal.

So here I am, completely hip with my Mac and my IPod...worship me.

Yea, so maybe that was a stretch...maybe I do have Plato's “The Republic” audio book on the IPod, but I'm still hip right? Right?!?

Help me out here.

This ain't the Shining

2008-08-03T21:57:00.010-04:00

I've returned, kind of like the Rolling Stones minus the talent, money, adoring fans and well, you get the point. I've come back nonetheless. I guess that makes me the proverbial blogger phoenix, rising from the ashes of broken bits and electrons, seizing broadband and cooking hot dogs.

Difficult as it is to believe, it's been nearly two years since my last post; my absence however, has not been uneventful and to the contrary, in retrospect, it seems during that period I've lived a lifetime.

I'll do my best to summarize the events of the past two years; in January of 07 I was involved in a serious car accident. Typical to the stories, I was commuting home late at night on a deserted (obviously not deserted enough) country road when a SUV crossed the center line in a corner and plowed into the driver's side of my truck. Unfortunately for the campfire story crowd, for the most part I came out of the incident unscathed, allowing for some shoulder issues that plague me today and the air bag burn scars. The unbelievable part was that it was decided my truck should be repaired, which $26,000 spent and two years later sits in my driveway. They actually did spend $26,000 to repair a $23,000 truck (the original estimate was $5,000 to fix) and two years (off and on) to fix it. Yes, the claims adjustor still works for them.

I quit my job, went back to college, had to have a root canal, missed having money and took a position as CTO with a shipping company.

Had a mishap with my motorcycle when a tractor trailer rig threw a retread and a four foot section of road gator (tire) almost took me out; limped home with a bent frame. Bought a new bike and repairing the old.

Took two motorcycle trips to the Smokys in Tennessee and rode a highway known as Deal's Gap, or Tail of the Dragon...one time at night.

I've aged and my children have grown and it seems that I'm not the only one that life has happened to. JACC, congratulations Dad. Slaygirl, what happened to her and Mellow...what are you doing spending all your time on FaceBook?

I'm about to head to bed, but wanted to finish my weekend with a quick howdy and share a bit of past two years…condensed into two minutes.

My son and his Principals Honor Roll for the Year Award (only 3 kids got this). My daughter at last year's pumpkin festival.

Just wanted to wish

2006-11-23T09:44:00.000-05:00

Everyone a Happy Thanksgiving...for those of you up north...then Happy Thursday!

Serious Business

2006-11-15T12:59:00.000-05:00

Bags of mulched leaves lie about the yard like hibernating bears as I lean back against the rake having a cigarette and watching new leaves descend blanketing the ground I had just cleaned with flashes of gold and red. “Oh well,” I thought. “At least the barren spots in the yard can’t be seen now.”

Raking leaves wasn’t the only task in the tsunami of home improvement chores and maintenance responsibilities on a list of odd jobs as endless as the falling leaves. My mother was flying in to Houston on a business trip and decided to take a detour through Virginia for the upcoming weekend for a visit, and my wife was determined to show just how good of a daughter-in-law she was, proceeded in an attempt at making our home the Taj-Mahal of our neighborhood for her visit.

My parents retired in their early 50’s and determined the quiet sedate life of the elderly too mundane, they took contract positions with a company laying natural gas pipelines up in the northwest. Selling their home off of Puget Sound, the job took them from Washington to Oregon, negotiating right-of-way for laying pipelines across ranches, farms and municipalities. While they swear that when this contract ends, they’ll finally “really” retire to their house in Montana, I remain skeptical and I’ll believe it when I see it.

Fragrant candles sending tendrils of caramel and cinnamon throughout the house, hanging curtains, raking leaves, arranging and rearranging the furniture, shopping for home decor, cleaning and recleaning (nothing stays truly clean in a house with two children) our house was transformed into a Mecca of comfort and convenience within a week of her arrival, a planned day and a half stay.

I believe I’ve recovered from the hurricane of activity and think that I’ve finally perfected my pumpkin stew; I can now relax and get back to the important things in life.

Anyone up for a Broncos game? I brought beer and chips.

Blogger weirdness

2006-11-04T22:01:00.000-05:00

I posted a video last night, nothing special, but a video I found interesting and while publishing I saw the signpost up ahead…database error, the maintenance people have been notified. Ooooh, the maintenance people…a special subclass of illuminati that work the gears of the machine and oil the mechanisms that churn out my daily drivel.

The odd thing was, while I received an error it still posted my video, but would not let me edit or allow any replies in addition to not allowing me to post any follow up entries. My blog was officially broke and with no way to notify my loyal readers I was stranded on Gilligan’s isle with only Mary Ann (who was complaining). Inspiration struck me in the WC and I thought, “What if I republish my entire blog, I wonder if that would correct the error.”

Miracles do occur, it worked and it beat the alternative of spamming everyone’s blog with irrelevant post on how I was trapped in a basement.

Maintenance people…who needs ‘em (only kidding).

It's my party and I'll...

2006-11-02T21:37:00.000-05:00

So today is my daughter's second birthday. We're not doing anything today (which is good since my daughter is getting over an ear infection), but this weekend it's going to be a toddler's party.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

2006-10-31T20:47:00.000-05:00

My wife combs through the candy to find any suspect or malicious nuggets of sugary goodness through the mounds of candy my son, the All Hallows Eve prospector, received trick-or-treating. The Jack O’ Lanterns lit on the porch stare, standing vigil against the myriad of spooks seeking refuge in our house as the evening winds to a close.

One of the Jack O’ Lanterns lighting the porch signifies the first pumpkin hollowed out and carved by my son in a tradition that spans centuries. Stingy Jack, based on Irish folklore, invited the devil for a drink. The festivities ended when Jack, true to his name, refused to pay the barkeep for the drinks and in a ghoulish plan convinced the devil to turn himself into a coin to pay for the beverages.

Once the devil had changed, Jack decided to keep the coin and plopped it into his pocket next to a silver cross, thus preventing the devil from changing back. Jack eventually freed the devil on the condition that the devil not return for a year and if Jack ever died, the devil would not collect his soul.

The next year the devil appeared for dinner. Jack being a crafty one soon convinced the devil to retrieve some delicious fruit from the upper branches of a tree for supper. Once the devil had ascended, Jack quickly carved the sign of a cross into the bark on the trunk of the tree, trapping the devil among the branches. Furious, the devil agreed not to bother Jack for 10 more years.

The legend reports that Jack died before the 10 years was up, and true to his word, the devil did not collect Jack’s soul…but therein lay a problem. God did not want such an unsavory soul in heaven and the devil would not collect Jack’s soul. Humiliated and angry at Jack’s tricks, the devil cast Jack into the darkness of night with only a piece of coal to light his way. Jack carved a turnip for the chunk of coal and wanders the night to this day.

The Scots and the Irish soon began carving their own scary version of Jack’s lantern out of potatoes and turnips and placing them in windows or near doors to frighten Stingy Jack or any other wandering spirits away. Soon after arriving in the Americas, people found pumpkins, a native fruit, perfect for making Jack O’ Lanterns and the tradition continues.

Hope everyone had a great Halloween…even you Chelene.

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T00:10:00.000-05:00

Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch's mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangl'd babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
-MacBeth Act IV

I got a rock...

2006-10-30T00:39:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite cartoons as a kid...couldn't wait till Halloween to watch it and still get a get out of it.

It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown

October Haunting

2006-10-27T18:52:00.000-04:00

The leaves are turning colors, it’s Friday and rain is cascading against the windows. It’s as cold outside as the chocolate bars in the fridge, saved for hot cocoa this evening and the house smells like fall with wood is waiting next to the fireplace…looks like the setting is right to scare the little ones by telling ghost stories by a fire tonight.

My son doesn’t scare that easily though, as demonstrated by our visit to Bunny Man Bridge, the boy is the adventuresome sort. Always willing to risk life and limb (so long as they’re mine, it’s daylight and there’s an easy escape route) exploring abandoned ghost towns, sites of macabre occurrences or any other multitude of bizarre places…like Chuck E. Cheese’s.

Not too terribly long ago, we heard of a place called “Hell House” off of Bonny Branch Road in Maryland. The rumor of this place typifies the mayhem that surrounds larger abandoned building; stories of young children, satanic worship and murder. The “house”, not visible from the road, is a short hike through underbrush and a long climb up a set of ancient stairs.

Built in the 1800’s, the story goes, the house was built as a religious reformatory for teenage girls. The head priest and nuns began dabbling in the occult and girls began disappearing, murdered for satanic sacrifices with the events culminating in the ritual execution of five girls in the entrance hall and the suicide of the head priest. It’s said the screams of the young victims can still be heard.

During the day it’s a grand building, neglected and falling into ruin. In spite of how close it is to the road, it’s eerily quiet and rather peaceful, interesting architecturally and historically even without the campfire rumors

The area is interesting as well and the nearby town is purported to be extremely haunted.

Work ownz joo

2006-10-27T13:12:00.000-04:00

As you know, the boy and I decided to play hooky for most of the day on Wednesday. Perhaps the timing was ill-planned and I failed to realize that we had a major database switchover planned for that night and so I paid for my decadence over the next two days.

Wednesday night we checked and verified that everything was in place and confirmed that all the scheduled jobs to extract data from systems the database was dependent on and the mechanisms for delivering the data were secure and ready to run. Around midnight we were finished rebuilding the database on the new server. We agreed to get back together Thursday morning at 4:30 am to validate that the scheduled extracts ran and all the reports generated for the company executives could be produced on time.

Not everything ran as smoothly as we would have hoped, but considering the extent of the system, it ran better than we had expected.

After working into the wee hours on Thursday, and again waking up early on Thursday, that evening I was more exhausted than I realized when I lied down to watch cartoons with my son. I ended up falling asleep and snoozing for 4 hours, waking up for a couple and then crashing for the rest of the night.

I asked my wife why she didn’t wake me up and she said, “You never sleep that much, I figured you needed it.”

I’m very refreshed.

Life is too Short

2006-10-26T06:47:00.000-04:00

Paul Tsongas once said, "No one on his deathbed ever said 'I wish I spent more time at the office'" and with that in mind, yesterday, my son stayed home (not too concerned about that, straight A student and in gifted classes) and I ducked out of work for a “Life is too Short” day. Lunch at Ruby Tuesday, a trip to the book store games and whatever else we wanted to do, the day was ours.

I took the opportunity to do up this pen and ink drawing of my boy munching on some chips.

Life is too short.

Lost and not found

2006-10-24T12:03:00.000-04:00

Be careful what you wish for, we’ve jumped from summer straight into what feels like winter. Tried riding my motorsickle today and froze my….fingers off.

Where did fall go?!?

Illustration Friday - Ghost

2006-10-23T22:13:00.000-04:00

I decided to jump back into Illustration Fridays. I had a good time with them when I was entering and life just got a bit busy for me to continue (college and all that jazz). Here's my entry into Illustration Friday with "Ghost".

Enjoy.

Obituary for Common Courtesy

2006-10-21T23:04:00.000-04:00

To say that I had lost respect for most of my fellow man would be somewhat of an understatement. Rather than courtesy swaggering about as the expected norm, a sort of me-centric attitude had become the invasive practice in the burg of D.C. Metro and regardless what act of magical liberality was performed, it was greeted with the nonchalantness generally reserved for servants of royalty. The disregard for social minutiae should have come as no surprise when I approached the father of one of my son’s schoolmates and informed him that his son had just slammed his car door into the side of my truck and tattooed a grinning dent on the driver’s side door.

My request was simple enough, delivered with as much humility as I could muster given the Grand Canyon that had just been imprinted on my vehicle, “Excuse me, would you mind asking your son to be more careful when opening his door next to other people’s cars. He just opened his door into my truck and scratched the paint and left a nice size dent.”

“He did not.” He replied.

“I beg to differ; I just watched your door bounce off the side of my truck.”

“You know, these spaces…they’re too small.”

“I’m 6 feet tall, much bigger than your son and I managed to get out of my truck without hitting yours.” I said, my blood pressure clawing its way to my temples, and the all too familiar anger-twitch visiting my lip.

“I’m parked between the white lines.”

“So am I.”

“Let me see the white lines.” He said exiting his vehicle.

Age and fatherhood have served me well, and while similar circumstances would have been the calling card for confrontation in my youth, my son by my side and the generosity of wisdom visited upon me by the absence of adolescence placed a lid on my anger containing it just out of reach.

He walked around to my truck, “As you can see, my truck is within the lines as well.” I said.

Perhaps my expectations were too great, and with visions of gallant courtesy arriving to slay the me-centric demons, I stood by waiting to receive my prize – an apology however, unlike the fairy tales and more true to life, I would not live happily ever after.

After mumbling something, he retreated to his truck and proceeded to leave. Disgusted, I followed suite and left for home.

The next day, while retrieving my son from school we were walking along the path that leads to the parking lot when, we were approached by the father.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” he said. “I don’t speak English very well and didn’t understand everything you were saying. I didn’t park in the parking lot today; I didn’t want the same thing to happen, so I parked out by the street.”

All I had intended was to bring the incident to his attention and all I expected was an apology. He held out his hand and I took it and everything was right.

Apparently I was wrong…Courtesy is still alive and reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated.

Now at least once a week < insert applause >

2006-10-20T23:17:00.000-04:00

Soon after my last post, I finally came down with the plague myself...as short lived as it was, it still lingers while the rest of my family has returned to health. Just like the saying, the bigger they are, the more they cry like a simpering baby...or something like that.

Well, we got the chance to take the trailer out and had a blast. We headed down to Winchester Virginia, near where we take the little ones pumpkin picking every year. After setting up camp we went to pick the motliest bunch of pumpkins this side of the Rio Gourd.

I'm going to try to post at least every Friday; of course I neglected today and got the new blog skin up.

What do y'all think?

Insomnia

2006-10-13T02:09:00.000-04:00

Are drugs necessary for a tortured soul? Is indecision capable of replacing a needle; self-doubt substitute’s chemicals and lack of an obsession replaces a drained bottle of whiskey propped against an outdated copy of TV Guide. The questions pondered while your head lay against a crisp pillow, tainted colors of Halloween, orange of the tungsten street lamp outside interrupted with shadows of contrasting black. The fever-induced promises you made to yourself, while hallucinating manifestations of your inner demons, lie crumpled next to the self realization that all is for nothing. Breezes sneak through the window carrying the chilling allure of purity, wickedly spice the skin. The assurance of youth waits in the ashes to rise during the next bout of inspiration that seems centuries ago. Insinuation of sleep like a cracked cough held against glass, the covers and waking dreams of salvation pulled tightly against you.

Please excuse my son’s absence

2006-09-28T18:17:00.000-04:00

Greetings all, I’m sure everyone has stopped visiting the site because of my recent inactivity, but I assure you, I have a valid excuse…well, maybe not. The past few weeks has been fraught with events that make tabloid journalist drool with unforgiving fervor. Me? Exaggerate? Why I’d never hear of such a thing.

The week we bought the trailer, our house became reminiscent of Europe’s Black Plague with my daughter getting sick with pink eye and strep. Those of you with children can imagine the joy of using antibiotic eye drops on an 18-month child with a fever of 103. Towards the end of my daughter’s bout with the demented sand man, my son came down with some random wonton virus that stole the weekend. Through this, my wife got sick with something or other and thanks to vitamin C supplements I skated the scourge attacking our house. It was all pumpernickel and daisies however; since I was the only healthy one in the family you can imagine my family obligations.

During my wife’s hiatus from her standard fare of motherhood, she was able to focus on more important things…like the lack of a ceiling fan in our bedroom and so the honey-do list grew by another.

Nothing is ever as simple or as difficult as it seems in the beginning and the ceiling fan was no exception. To keep a long story relatively short, I’ll simply summarize the steps to installing a ceiling fan:

Choose ceiling fan
Remove current light fixture
Buy Romex 3 wire electrical wiring (standard 2 wire electrical only supports light, not light and fan from light switch)
Pull old wiring out
Run new wire through attic and down wall to switch housing
Realize insufficient bracing for ceiling fan
Buy brace for ceiling fan
Realize brace when spanned over 16 inches is no longer sufficient to support ceiling fan (building codes allow for 24inch on center construction for roof trusses)
Buy 2x4 and cut to 22 and a half inches
Hammer new brace between rafters
Attach electrical box
Open ceiling fan box and find the hole cut in ceiling is to large for the new fan mount
Cut new opening
Pull out brace and relocate it to new opening
Wire up ceiling fan (one line does NOT do this justice)
Hang ceiling fan
Try and force all electrical connections into a space a hamster would consider cramped
Test ceiling fan
Buy heart defibrillator when heart stops because the lights don’t come on
Heart begins when wife discovers a little switch at the bottom of switch to turn on lights
Balance the blades
Mark 4 nights of life lost off of calendar because of ceiling fan and wonder if you could have made do with Egyptian eunuchs fanning you with palm leaves
Plan patching of the too big hole in the ceiling
Determine what color the bedroom will be painted (since you have to paint the patch, wouldn’t it make sense to paint the whole room?)

Well, it wasn’t that short after all; you can imagine what the non-condensed version looked like…I can.

So now you all can understand the reason for my “vacation” and my apologies. It appears that I’m back…for the time being.

Electrical, carpentry, dry wall…I’m gonna start my own home improvement show…watch for me on HGTV.

Anticipation

2006-09-07T21:34:00.000-04:00

Well, this will be the second night in a row that I haven’t posted anything. After work for the past couple of days I’ve been getting my truck ready for the travel trailer and just got finished washing it down. Tomorrow it’s off for the state inspection and an oil change and tomorrow evening dropping it off at the RV dealership to have the brake controller and equalizing hitch put on it. Then Saturday morning we pick it up.

I’ll make sure to post some pictures when I get it.

These pictures were not taken by me.

Burning question for the ages, not 42

2006-09-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

It was a harried morning, the kind that you would secretly wish on your roommate that never did the dishes and ate all your crackers. No matter how well I think I have things planned out, no matter how organized or how methodical things are, I invariably miss something, usually nothing catastrophic, but something nonetheless. This morning was no exception and I ran frantically about, making mad-dash calls to my wife and collecting bits and pieces from nooks and crannies around the house; my son was late to his first day back to school.

Returning home, I found myself on unfamiliar ground. Here, without the ever-present kid questions and constant interruptions to let me know what cartoon was airing on TV, my mind began to wander through unfamiliar territory, a creepy landscape that bore no resemblance to anything in recent memory.

I didn’t bother to rein in my consciousness and allowed it to survey the scenery with a new appreciation for the subtleties of the landscape. Drawing assumptions from wells, jumping to conclusions and plucking blades of nonsense, I realized I had nothing. So I folded my introspection into thirds, shoved it in my wallet where pictures normally go and started work.

While beginning the onslaught of emails with the vigor of a barbican pillaging, a little something had caught my eye during the foray into foreign territory and I began to wonder, I assume because of my recent attention to my blog, but when and how does one decide to post a comment in response to someone’s post. Is it a random occurrence or is there rhyme and reason to how one decides to comment?

I can only speak for myself, but I’ve visited an excruciating number of blogs and yet have commented on only a few posts on even fewer blogs. It wasn’t the fact that I wasn’t interested in the post or the author, in fact I’ve not commented many of the blogs on my sidebar, but there was a certain something on the blogs that I did comment on to that intrigued me.

What is the determining factor when publishing a comment to a post?

I really should take up yoga.

Tagged...

2006-09-04T00:12:00.000-04:00

by JACC (snuck away from the movie).

Losing my family
Mimes
The spelling of Albuquerque

2...People who make me laugh
zombies don't laugh...we moan (for all the right reasons)
But if we did, Jack Handy
Spock
People that trip on sidewalk cracks

3...Things I hate the most
People with lack of common courtesy
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (not the cartoon, the real thing)
Crickets in my house

4...Things I don't understand
How Jack Black ever became popular
Politics
Hang nails

5...Things I'm doing right now
Hangin’ out, watching the game, drinking a bud

6...Things I want to do before I die
Too late…
Invent a cure for stupidity
Take my chances on Wheel of Fortune
Teach the world to sing…in perfect harmony

7... Things I can do
I can do anything you can do better
I can do anything better than you
Read my children bedtime stories

8... Ways to describe my personality
Lack of
Cynical
Pillar (not of salt)
Honest to a fault

9... Things I can't do
Things I don't want to do

10...Things I think you should listen to
Your parents...about 20 years ago or ((your age – your age) + 13)
Your psychologist

11...Things you should never listen to
Back masked suicidal satanic messages
The voices in your head telling you to do horrible things
Styrofoam rubbing against styrofoam

12...Things I'd like to learn
How to tie my shoes
What evil lurks in the heart of man...the shadow knows

13...Favorite foods
Lasagna

14...Beverages I drink regularly
Coffee
Coca Cola
Monster

15...Shows I watched as a kid
Scooby Doo
Bugs Bunny
Andy Griffith Show
Giligan's Island

Since everyone I know has been tagged...I'll attempt to tag Jim (but doubt he'll do it, he's a slug).

Known unknowns

2006-09-03T22:29:00.000-04:00

Finally, some peace and quiet…the door to my office is shut, the oldest boy is locked in the eternal struggle of good versus evil watching “The Hobbit” and the littlest girl is nodding off in my wife’s arms, who coincidently enough is also nodding off and me reeking of hickory smoke from the evening’s barbeque.

The weekend so far has left no waking moment unoccupied and every second filled with domestic adventure. Other than overcast, Saturday proved to be a pleasant day with only mist of rain playing off of the cool morning and dissipating as the day advanced towards evening. After accompanying my friend in the purchase his new truck, the zombie tribe launched an attack on a local RV dealership searching for a conveyance to further our travels with all the comforts of home.

After a year of research, we found the Outback 23RS to our liking and paid the funds to secure the model we were interested in. We take delivery next Saturday and prior to that, I have to bring the truck in to get the brake controller for the trailer installed.

That night was filled with seafaring adventure with the recently purchased Monopoly, Pirates of the Caribbean (which has come to be known and Munplee Partza Carbean by my son). I was the skull…it only seemed appropriate for a zombie (see…told you I’d make a good pirate).

This morning after another swift (is there any such thing as a swift game of Monopoly) game of Munplee, we headed off to get hamburger (turned into chili burgers) and a bitter Sam Adams Black Ale beer for the nights barbeque. The finale of the night, in my son’s opinion the main attraction of the weekend, we opened and set up “Smithsonian Prehistoric Sea Monsters”.

The Prehistoric Monster kit contains a plastic bowl and triop eggs, a crustacean from the Triassic period that have the ability to live in suspended animation, according to the informative printed instructions enclosed within. If all goes well, in about a month, we’ll have an entire colony of these sea bugs up to 3 inches long. I can’t help but think of the sea monkey advertisements I used to see in the back of my Batman comic books as a youth. Coincidently enough, my friend, after saving for what seemed like years, ordered the sea monkey kit. After the appropriate time for shipping we hastily set it up and nurtured the little critters to maturity. Talk about false advertisement…the lady sea monkeys did NOT have breast, what a disappointment.

The wife is trying to coerce me into watching the movie, “Night Watch”, I’m going to try to sneak in a few minutes to answer JACC’s tag.

Jimmy crack corn

2006-09-03T11:56:00.000-04:00

Well, I missed a day of blogging. After going with my friend Jim to pick up his new truck, the family and myself went to look at travel trailers and then after dinner the family and I broke open the new Pirates of the Carribean Monopoly set and played until 1:30am (I was the skull, after all I am zombie).

I saw that I had been tagged by JACC and I'll get on that just as quick as I can. I think the Monopoly board is set up.

Random unedited thought

2006-09-01T22:19:00.000-04:00

I would call, to anyone that asked, the great outdoors my living room if I were homeless. I have to admit however, the great outdoors wouldn’t be so great at that point.

Hauntings of August Eve

2006-09-01T22:09:00.000-04:00

Creeping up the south eastern coast line, Hurricane Ernesto had introduced dark low lying clouds and cooler temperatures more befitting a New England coastal town than a southern city. Rain dimpled the puddles that had collected on the streets as I huddled next to the brick front of the bookstore to avoid being soaked by the passing cars. Gust of wind cleansed the air of the heavy seared steak smell emanating from the Lone Star Steak House around the corner and whipped the smoke from my cigarette. The awning that protected me from the rain popped like a wet towel and complained of the visiting wind.

As the windshield wipers slapped back the rain, the wife and I decided tonight would be the perfect night for soup and baked apples. I had hoped that we might find pumpkins at the local grocery store for some pumpkin stew, but it’s still too early in the season so we settled on Rosemary Chicken soup in a sourdough bowl and some white wine. Pumpkin stew would have to wait.

The wind is continued to pick up and by the time we arrived home, the scene was very reminiscent of the early stages of Hurricane Ivan in Pensacola Florida and the windows rattled and the house creaked as it was assaulted by the storm.

Our stomachs warmed, the aroma of baked apples filling the house and the skies murky, the mood was never so ripe for ghost stories, and so we lit a fire in the fireplace, prepared some homemade hot chocolate and assembled for some tales that were sure to have my son asking random trivial questions on bizarre subjects. I’ve always been enthralled with ghost stories, whether told by the fireplace on nights like tonight, or surrounding a campfire in the middle of the woods. Not the gory Texas Chainsaw Massacre type of stories, but the ghouls and goons variety that typify the lore and legend of days gone by. The Legend of Sleepy Hallow comes to mind and stories of vampires and werewolves.

My fascination extends beyond the nighttime attraction and well into the daylight hours where, feeling adventuresome, we travel to some of the local places of myths. One such place is Bunnyman’s Bridge in Fairfax County.

According to local lore, the location was the scene of a bus wreck; the bus was described to be transporting inmates from a D.C. insane asylum, which was being closed due to budgetary cuts, to a new local facility. Once word reached the officials about the accident, they set out on a manhunt to round up escaped patients. By nightfall, all but two inmates had been found and transported to the asylum.

Reportedly residents began finding dead rabbits around the bridge, apparently food for the two inmates that remained at large and although law enforcement continued to search for the fugatives, other than the dead rabbits, no trace was found until one day one of the missing patients was found hanging from the bridge, murdered by his fellow runaway. This is the local legend that gave the bridge its name.

While as legends go the story is obviously fabricated, there were no reported asylums for the insane in that area or recorded accidents, the designation of the bridge might also be attributed to a documented incident that occurred in the 1940’s where law enforcement officers responded to a call regarding a man dressed in a Halloween bunny suit and throwing hatchets at passing cars from the trestle.

A good tale and an excellent afternoon outing to visit the locale of local folklore and the memories used to spin our own good yarns in front of a fire on a blustery August evening.

Where's my sleeping pills?

2006-08-31T23:19:00.000-04:00

I’m exhausted…not just tired, but completely utterly and absolutely exhausted. The fact of the matter is, I don’t sleep well and have struggled with insomnia my entire life. Normally three hours a night is the limit of nocturnal slumber and usually catch a couple hours on Saturday mornings, albeit not last Saturday because of our safari to the great outdoors.

Considering my sleeping condition, it’s no wonder that I read so much, with such a great deal of time on my hands I have the opportunity to read considerably more than I would if I could convince my body to keep normal hours. I don’t consider myself so much a book connoisseur as a book carnivore; I’m ravenous in the amounts that I read and it only increases up during the winter when outdoor activities are limited. The wife on several occasions has tried to put per trip spending caps on my bi-monthly trips to the bookstore, but to no avail. I spend hours perusing the aisles in search of the next great midnight novel. I’ve run across some excellent books and others that I found it a chore just to complete.

Although I don’t associate myself with any particular author, Hemingway has proven himself to be one of the more enjoyable novelists. While working for Command Training Wing 6 at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, I had the opportunity to accompany the flight officers on detachment to Key West, Florida. While there, I had the good fortune to visit the house Hemingway owned on the island. A couple of interesting facts; his house had the first swimming pool on the island, and there are still numerous 6-toed cats living on the premises, direct decedents of a 6-toed cat given to him by a sea captain.

Charles Dickens and John Steinbeck are masters of characterization and have won places on my shelf right next to the macabre Edgar Allen Poe, creator of the detective novel. Poe is buried in a Baltimore cemetery and while the grave is believed to be his, there has been some question as to which plot actually contains his remains. Every year, a man of mystery (doubtful that it’s 007) leaves fresh roses on the spot believed to be his resting place.

I could bloviate on literature for hours and still come to the same conclusion; after another trip to the bookstore tomorrow night, I’ll be adding more books to the growing pile I have yet to read. With that…I’ll bid you good night, I’m off to finish another book.

I apologize for the boring, meandering post, have I mentioned I’m tired?

For Mel

2006-08-30T21:31:00.000-04:00

I couldn't believe that Mellow Lee had never seen Courage the Cowardly Dog, so this is for her.

Here's some more Courage the Cowardly Dog

JACC started it.

My compliments

2006-08-29T20:54:00.000-04:00

There was no hope of me missing the alarm this morning. No chance of employment truancy, forcing me to weave a fantastic, yet believable account to explain my absence from the morning’s meetings. No, not this morning, today my departure from the slumber was greeted by the monotonous hum and clanking of large equipment in front of my house.

“About time,” I thought, “finally tearing up that annoying asphalt and loading it into a truck.” My hope of time reversal was being addressed and I was confident the horse and buggy would be delivered to my abode at the city’s earliest convenience.

I knew this to be the case, because I no longer had running water, a further indication that we had reached the pinnacle of human society and the conclusion was made that it wasn’t so great after all (I was however, still confused at their use of heavy equipment for the street removal, but who was I to question such a great decision). I didn’t even mind my inability to exit my house due to the large trench cut across the end of my driveway…after all in our new old world, I wouldn’t need the truck.

In all the excitement, I was barely conscious of the paper cut I received while digging for my outhouse plans.

I almost brought all the workers that were lounging around in my front yard a beer until I realized that they would probably frown upon the means by which the beer was kept cold and would definitely turn me down in disgust, so I merely watched their progress. I wondered if the city would send out a collection truck for the refrigerator.

You can imagine my disappointment towards the end of the day when the trench was filled, new asphalt was laid and I was accosted by the dawning realization this was merely an elaborate hoax concocted by one of my arch nemesi for revenge (I assume nemesi is plural for nemesis). I’m beginning to think it was my wife that perpetrated this ruse, after all, she was absent for the day…work indeed, how convenient.

Even with the crushing defeat I had at the hands of these jokesters, I have to admit that if I couldn’t have a reversal of time; I was satisfied at the craters left in the street by the heavy equipment and the debris left in the overgrown lot across from my house. After all, if you can’t have rutted dirt roads, streets with potholes will just have to do.

I really must write the Prince William County Service Authority a thank you letter for such a fine job. I’m such a glass is half-full type of guy.

Demented Ed Grimly...

2006-08-28T19:36:00.000-04:00

Was cleared of all charges after they drug him back from overseas. He's still a sicko and will be facing child pornography charges.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14553130/?GT1=8404

I think I'll go watch Jurassic Park or something.

Back from camping

2006-08-28T13:14:00.000-04:00

Good afternoon! Well the camping trip when off without a hitch since we weren’t pulling a trailer. Here’s the Short Attention Span Theater list of events.

HOT! 95 degrees with around 85% humidity
Great new North Face 2 man tent sets up easily
Yellow jackets and bees everywhere (got stung twice)
Don’t put citronella candles too close to the fire, they curdle
Coleman electric start propane lantern doesn’t work well, still used matches to start
Brats will role off the grill into the campfire when they cook
Ate tons of grilled brats…no beans, forgot can opener
Tent fans are awesome, wish we had 4 more
Self-inflating air mattresses…where were you when I was younger
Midnight walk to old civil war graveyard, kids don’t like being in graveyards after dark
Woke up at 5:30am as coyotes ran through camp howling like frat boys at a panty raid, fortunately all food was locked in the truck so they were just passing through (great feeling knowing coyotes are just outside your nylon tent, park ranger later confirmed there are also bobcats in the area). Kids slept through entire thing
First campfire coffee of the morning sucks
Somehow all the equipment took up more space after we broke down camp than before

Well, I’m back and found out that apparently I have a leak coming from somewhere…guess I’ll be cutting drywall this weekend.

Camping this weekend

2006-08-26T01:12:00.000-04:00

Sorry I didn't respond to anyone this evening, taking the boy camping tomorrow and had to get the tent and sleeping bags aired out, make sure there was propane for the lanterns and organize everything for the trip.

Y'all have a great weekend!!!

*Edit - tried to make the rounds before I left and it seems like blogger is throwing temper tantrums (page not found when I try to post a reply) y'all have a great weekend.*

Now for something completely different

2006-08-24T22:24:00.000-04:00

I snapped this picture when I lived in Pensacola FL. The placement of this sign coming off I-10 in Pensacola Florida always cracked me up. There is a lamppost directly in front of the sign and as you exit onto Cervantes street, the angle can lead to interesting implications. Without the obstruction, the sign says "Shuckin' to Please". Enjoy.

But are there chearleaders...

2006-08-24T21:05:00.000-04:00

There really is no motivation for me to go to college. Reasonably successful in my career, I’ve never found the lack of a degree hindering my progress towards my professional goals and it doesn’t appear this will change anytime soon.

Unlike many of my classmates out of high school, I chose to join the military during Desert Storm, thus relinquishing my right to party with scantily clad coeds, giving up beer bongs and wet t-shirts for rifles and mortar fire, and I never really regretted my decision, except where wet t-shirts and scantily clad females were concerned.

Tying up loose ends at work this afternoon, I received a call from the student counselor at the University of Phoenix. She was contacting all students who had attended the University, but had not completed their degree and was curious as to my reasons for leaving the program. I informed her that I had been deceived when I began matriculating and was originally advised that it would take approximately a year to finish my bachelor’s degree. That “approximately” subsequently changed to two years after I had completed several classes.

“Two years isn’t bad, you actually only have 51 credit hours left until you receive a degree.” She said.

I proceeded to explain my predicament. I was planning to join the military as an officer, a bachelors degree is required of all officers and the cut off age for becoming a commissioned officer is 34…I’m 33. That was the original reason I went with your college, I would have been able to apply for the military as an officer if the original agreement had been upheld. “Oh.” She replied.

After further discussions related to my graduation I began to wonder, perhaps I should finish the degree as a matter of course for my own edification. With regular coursework, some waived courses and CLEP test I would be able to complete my degree in just over a year.

Now I’m faced with the conundrum, do I go ahead and finish the degree despite the fact it will not achieve my intended goal or do I forget about it and move on. Copious amount of time will be used to complete the degree…time taken away from family (and don’t forget money) and I wonder if the benefits will be worth it.

The last time I attended was last December; if I had stuck with it then…I’d be graduating this upcoming February.

When it rains

2006-08-24T15:34:00.000-04:00

Well, as you saw in my piggy post (Nursery rhyme impossible), there is a lot of animosity between our groups at work and things kind of came to a head today. During our meeting, my close friend of 10 years (who is also my boss) was asking a question and was interrupted to clarify. My friend continued with the question (which would have clarified the original question) and was interrupted by his boss. My friend asked, “Please let me finish…” to which his boss replied, “No, I need to clarify.”

My friend then excused himself from the teleconference and hung up.

He called me after our teleconference and stated how pissed he was and I proceeded to tell him that I thought he acted like a boob and if he intended to win any battles against the other group this wasn’t the way to go about it. I informed him that now, instead of the piggy in the straw house looking like spastic unprofessional pig that he is, whenever my friend goes to challenge his position, my friend’s opinion will be discounted for throwing his temper tantrum (oh, there goes the pig in the stone house again).

In his defense, I understand where he’s coming from and can sympathize with his situation. This has been going on for 6 months with no relief in sight, and we have proven multiple times that the pig in the straw house does not know how to complete the project; we cannot seem to make any headway in doing the right thing.

After I told my friend my thoughts on the situation, he told me he would call me back later and hung up. I know what I said upset him, but I couldn’t lie could I?

Sometimes, you just gotta let some stuff go.

And the world goes on

2006-08-23T10:26:00.000-04:00

We see the world through our children’s eyes and see the freshness of it all, the surprises around every corner and the endless possibilities. My son declared that he wants to be a dentist, and I’m sure before he’s 10 it will change as frequently as a politician’s campaign promises on Election Day; that’s the benefit of youth.

When does that freshness wear off, when do our goals change from saving the world to getting a cup of coffee before a morning shower? I don’t remember a single glaring point in time that my dreams were reduced to wishing someone else would mow the grass, it just happened.

At 17, I was content to climb into my piece of crap car (by then it was almost 20 years old) and head anywhere that the country road led me, now I have a destination in mind with a 12 page checklist of items that I may need along the way; A/C working, oil changed and cell phone in the center console to call AAA in case I break down. Check the weather and wonder if I should have gotten GPS, but it’s ok.

I have directions from MapQuest.

So do the days of our lives

2006-08-22T22:47:00.000-04:00

Today was almost an identical repeat of yesterday. I didn’t get off work until 8pm and so I have little time to post (not to mention, I’m exhausted). I’ll leave you with a painting of Shenandoah River in fall.

Highlands Ranch CO

2006-08-22T09:16:00.000-04:00

After moving back to Colorado from Boston Mass, winter hit and just like James said, it was bleak to say the least. Fortunately, I did have one bit of enjoyment over a Colorado winter, my son who was mainly raised in the south and on the east coast had never seen real snowfall (the two winters up in Boston were amazingly mild, the year we moved they were hit by record blizzards). Here's my son next to a snowman we made.

Nursery rhyme impossible

2006-08-21T22:28:00.000-04:00

As I predicted last week, the constant river of political pawning, whining and other distasteful activities has filled the day and promises to provide a long running mini-series in the foreseeable future.

I’ll attempt to outline the days events without being so descript that a simple web search would bring my activities on this site to the attention of my employer…or if this place were to be discovered, my ex-employer.

Three distinctly different organizations are involved in this corporate ménage à trios, the piggy whose house is built of straw, the other of wood, and finally mine, built of stone.

This weekend some critical business functionality was incorporated into the business logic that determines how the business will be run and executive decisions made based on this logic. To make things simple, facts were omitted which caused some discrepancies to appear. When the omission was questioned, the piggy that lived in the house of straw indicated that it was my little piece of the world that was flawed, and he was he was sure I was going to blame him. The piggy in the house of straw continued, that he would look into it and get back with my landlord (the owner of the piggy in the house of stone).

Well fortunately, the big bad (or not so bad) wolf also lives in the house made of straw, and minutes after the accusations were made (the accusations unbeknownst to the wolf), an email was sent out stating that the omissions were in fact caused by the wolf and the house made of straw imploded while my stone house still stood.

The piggies in the house of wood laughed and had a jolly good time at the expense of the piggy in the house of straw.

Well, that was my day and the analogy, while tough to follow, should allow me to keep my current employment for at least another week.

This little piggy took a sleeping pill and went wee wee wee all the way to bed.

Pumpkin Pie Ice Cream

2006-08-20T19:37:00.000-04:00

My only regret is that I bought an electric ice cream maker instead of the type we had when I was a kid. There’s something sweeter about ice cream when the indentured servitude of childhood forces you to add sweat equity into the creamy brew by cranking a handle until your arms were rubbery lengths of play dough better suited to your malleable action figure...it builds character.

Regardless, my son and I enjoy making ice cream and since fall is creeping up on us in the typical fashion, I decided to make Pumpkin Pie Ice Cream. This is my recipe, so if you don’t like it…blame me, or not…it’s your fault you listened to my direction.

Zombie Ice Cream Pumpkin Pie

The main ingredient in this pumpkin pie is pumpkin ice cream.

1 3/4 cups canned or cooked mashed pumpkin *I prefer mashed pumpkin but it takes longer

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup milk

2 cups heavy cream

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 baked pie crust, 9-inch

Mix ingredients cool and poor into ice cream maker. Once mixture is frozen, spoon into pie crust and smooth. Top with whipped cream.

An alternate ending to this ice cream fiasco is to crumble up the pie crust and half-way through the freezing process, open the lid and toss the pie pieces directly into the ice cream.

Enjoy.

Pensacola Beach

2006-08-20T15:14:00.000-04:00

Before we moved back up to D.C., we lived in Pensacola Florida, this picture was taken shortly before Hurricane Ivan hit Pensacola. This is my son walking along Pensacola Beach, he 5 years old here.

Where does time go.

Passing of thyme

2006-08-19T20:35:00.000-04:00

Fall is just around the corner, and pardon me if I’m just a bit giddy about it. Fall has for the longest time been my favorite season, not that spring, summer and winter don’t offer their own enticements, but fall has a certain allure that I look forward to.

I don’t intend to advance the already hurried clip of time, but the crisp bite to the air, the smell of pumpkin pie and cinnamon baked apples, and hikes along trails with the constant crunch of fallen leaves underfoot are pleasures that don’t come often enough and pass by too swiftly in my judgment.

Growing up in Colorado, fall was often cut short by falling snows hailing hard winters which would last, many times, into summer. I often joke with people that Colorado has two seasons; summer and winter, and it wasn’t until I moved out east that I understood the transitions between heat and cold and the subtleties that celebrate the changing of the seasons.

This year, as always, I’ll take the family to the pumpkin patch to pick their own pumpkins (last year we brought back way too many pumpkins), we’ll take long hikes, and we’ll carve jack o’lanterns, watch Legend of Sleepy Hollow on TV and head to the Creepy Hollow Haunted Hayride in Richmond. We’ll sit on the swing in the yard bundled up in sweaters while a fire crackles in the outdoor fireplace, telling ghost stories and watching the season pass into winter.

These are the things playing in mind while the echo of a lawnmower outside informs that I’m a bit premature, and I just might have time to get one last BBQ in before it’s too late.

Go Denver Broncos!

Work and play

2006-08-19T14:03:00.000-04:00

Well, I’ve been neglectful of this blog other than posting old artwork and such. This week has been hell and yesterday Jim stopped by with his daughter. So after work we sat outside drinking beer and shooting the breeze until around 11:00pm. I was in no condition to compile any kind of legible post so I lie down and read. I ended up going to sleep at around 4am.

I got a call from Jim this morning and apparently some things went awry at work this morning. After things had calmed down he called to see if the boy and I would like to do something. I told him I couldn’t, I have a honey do list as long as my arm and I’ve been neglecting that as well. I suggested that they visit Great Falls on the Potomac. Great place to spend the day (the picture to the left is part of the Great Falls area).

I’m hoping this week will be much quieter, but I’m not holding out hope…in fact it appears that it will be even more hectic. Things are afoot at work.

Where’s Sherlock when you really need him.

Fishing

2006-08-17T15:07:00.000-04:00

One of Just a Cool Cat's post reminded me of something I haven't done in a long time. My grandfather and my father loved fishing. Growing up out in Colorado, we used to travel all over the west (usually in Colorado or Montana) throwing our lines in. Some of the best memories I have of my grandfather were doing nothing more than hanging out with our rods proped up on rocks.

I did this pastel on rough board close to a year ago.

Insert witty title here...

2006-08-16T19:42:00.000-04:00

This has ended up turning into one hellaciously busy week. I haven’t had time to collect my thoughts let alone try to make any sense of them. On a brighter note…umm…so anyway I’ve been extremely busy and it appears that my weekend may be screwed to.

What was it that Mark Twain said, “Nobody will say on their deathbed: 'I wish I had spent more time in the office'”?

Random thought; I think I would have made a damn fine pirate, but probably would have ended up with a really stupid name…like Stubbles or something equally ridiculous.

Common oxymoron

2006-08-15T22:42:00.000-04:00

There’s no other way to say it, no beating around the bush wasting time on eloquent prose or excuses; my parents screwed up. There, I said it…no apologies, no regrets. Not in a traditional multifaceted culture of abnormal norms sort of fashion, but in a very unconventional manner. Not a day goes by that I don’t curse them for their oversight in raising such an abomination to society such as myself.

Heaven forgive them for instilling…I shudder to even mention it…uncommon courtesy, and now I’m a twisted wreck of a man beyond common recognition.

I’m ashamed to mention that I voice my appreciation with a “Thank you” when someone takes the time to hold open a door for me. I hang my head every time I wave to a person that slows down to let me enter their lane on the freeway. My conscience weeps every time hold an elevator instead of repeatedly mashing the button to shut the doors.

Will I ever learn?

A man walking ahead of a woman reaches a door, pulls it open and steps aside for the woman to enter. The woman glances at him curtly and says, “You don’t need to hold the door open because I’m a lady.”

The man replies, “I didn’t, I held it open because I’m a gentleman.”

Lime in the coconut

2006-08-14T18:35:00.000-04:00

Hope you get to feeling better Slaygirl.

Facades and the unappreciated

2006-08-14T17:11:00.000-04:00

In the annals of history, no truer words were spoken than, “Ah y’am what Ah y’am and that’s all that Ah y’am.” Perhaps I’ll acquiesce that Popeye is probably not the first pop culture icon you’d think of when it comes to personal inspiration, but the words hold true.

I fairly epitomize those words, what you see is what you get and I am the same person regardless of location (of course you can’t take me anywhere…but that’s a whole other story). I’m not a big advocate of facades, but I do find myself a slightly different person around people I don’t know. Not so much different, but slightly modified…you see, I have a rather acidic sense of humor (always intended to be in jest) that either utterly endears people to me (I’ve told people that I’ll grow on them…like a fungus) or causes them to completely loathe my very existence and slaughter small animals out of spite.

At one rather large corporation that I worked at, the CEO of the company was visiting the various organizations that comprised the company. When our group was called, we filed into the boardroom, took our seats and the CEO made his “getting to know me” speech, after which the floor was open for each of us to introduce ourselves in turn. After many boastful and ape-like chest beating presentations given by coworkers and managers, the time had arrived for me to introduce myself. “I’m zombie [name changed to protect…bah, who am I kidding, I just like saying zombie] and I’m the site janitor.”

Silence…

“Site janitor?” He asked cocking his head to the side.

“Site janitor,” I said nodding.

“I don’t get it.”

“Well, I’m always cleaning up everyone else’s shit.” I said.

After a moment the CEO exploded with laughter followed by the sounds of unsure chuckles. I braved a glance at my supervisor.

He went home and offed a couple of innocent hamsters, gangland style I’m sure.

Aging

2006-08-14T10:32:00.000-04:00

The subject for this was aging. I wondered about the history of this military truck sitting neglected in the weeds and wanted to give it a foggy memory feeling (actually I grew bored and never added the detail...but the foggy memory excuse is the one I'm sticking with). Enjoy.

Does it get any better...

2006-08-13T15:13:00.000-04:00

Usually my cynical nature precludes me from having too much fun at the expense of my sanity, but Jim talked me into going out for a ride yesterday. Well, talked isn’t exactly the way it happened, he called me from East Coast Harley (literally 5 minutes away) and told me he was on his way. I hadn’t even showered by that time…man, I’m a lazy, so I set up the sprinkler and ran through it. In typical Jim fashion, he didn’t show up for another 20 minutes (still trying to do the math on that one, I could walk there in 10 minutes).

When he did arrive he complained of a headache. After he sucked up some aspirin I found out he hadn’t had any coffee that day, call me doctor zombie, but knowing the way this guy huffs coffee, I told him that it was a caffeine headache. Whipped up some extra strong instant (Juan Valdez is rolling his grave) and about an hour later, he was right as rain…if that’s possible with him.

The weather was perfect for a ride and we headed out towards one of the state parks. Even the deer that jumped out in front of us didn’t bother me (even though it did cause me to lock up the brakes and increase the pucker factor). It was one of those riding days that make you rethink your existence and the reason you work at all. Fortunately these days don’t come around that often, if they did I’d probably have to opt for some surly vagabond existence that included robbing trains ala Butch Cassidy and end up in jail. I’m sure Bubba would be kind enough to lend me his soap on a rope.

Wish life offered some type of rewind option…I’d still be in yesterday.

Weekend time

2006-08-13T14:35:00.000-04:00

Weekend time always seems to pass so much more quickly than weekday time and between chores and taking care of the family, I find I have little time for much else. With that said, here's another piece. This one took a few days, Conch shell in watercolor. Hope you enjoy!

Start of the day...

2006-08-12T11:38:00.000-04:00

Figured I'd start the day out with some of my old artwork. The subject of this was "Tranquil" and was created haphazardly in one evening. Hope y'all enjoy.

(Click on the picture to enlarge it)

My “muse” is nocturnal

2006-08-11T09:56:00.000-04:00

That was tough to write, almost like describing how your pituitary glands are secreting some kind of noxious liquid through your neck…not exactly party conversation.

Now that I had the design of the blog completed, I was faced with content (I'm about as interesting as cracker pie...no offense to cracker pie). Most of the writing I’ve done previously was, the facts and only the facts, technical articles and books, and I’ve rarely (e.g. read never) sat down and wrote anything of an opinionated nature. My friends will laugh considering how opinionated I can be.

Wrestling with insomnia and contemplating what in the world I had to say that anyone, but me, would be concerned with, my muse woke up and started whispering the most intriguing topics in my ear. I listened intently, my interest peaking and me almost leaping out of bed to get to the computer (ok, a bit of an exaggeration). Well, knowing that I still had to work this morning, I forced myself to lie there, taking careful note of the topics.

Now that I’m awake, and my nighttime objects of fascination all but vapor, my “muse” is nowhere to be found (damn I hate saying “muse”… too artsy for my taste) and I wonder, once again, what the hell am I going to write about.

I think my muse is a stripper.

Finally finished with this damn thing…for now

2006-08-10T23:13:00.000-04:00

Well, returned from Chicago (what a blast that was, read in sarcasm here…O’Hare invariably gives me trouble whenever I fly out) and went right to work on blog in my copious amounts of free-time.

The design, of what was to be named “that damn thing” by friends and family, has been completed, albeit some minor tweaking, and I’m fairly happy with it. I say that now, but invariably become disappointed with my design within hours of posting it.

Here’s to hoping that it sticks around and I can stick to blogging, I’m notorious for skipping things that require dedicated effort.

Creating this damn thing

2006-08-05T19:00:00.000-04:00

Well, I suppose I'll have to wait till I get back from Chicago to get this thing up and running.