Yikes!! A Virus Has Attacked the DumbPlumber

Be careful out there boys and girls. It is an ugly ugly world.

As I type, my poor husband is sitting,on the couch,in deep dark dungeon, pouting and angry because his laptop has been attacked by a particularly nasty virus. One of those fake alerts that hijack the computer and pretend that you are infected so that you will accidentally download their software which further infects the computer. The computer is literally unusable now. No programs will work. If connected to the Internet, it hijacks the browser and sends us to the website were we are enticed (yeah right real enticing) to buy their fucking software. I can't use the existing virus software because the virus has disabled that too.

These things are nasty nasty nasty. They originate in overseas locations. Dumbplumber says if he could find these %$#&*^*!! guys he'd string them up by the balls and slowly carve out their eyes.

I blame myself partly because I didn't upgrade his virus software to Kaspersky, which I use and really like. (Recommend to everyone.)

His main computer use consists of things like typing word documents and posting to his blog; suring news sites like Drudge, Instapundit, Lucianne and looking for car parts. No porno.....he swears, and I believe him. I keep warning him NOT to open jokes and attachments from his friends (which probably do count as porno). However, the broke dick lame virus software that he was using was supposed to pre scan for this....evidently not.

Sooooo.....now we get to take the computer to the repair/technician. No problem, right? NO! A big problem because in our rural area, we don't have computer techs. The one guy that we were using is in the middle of a personal meltdown and ugly divorce, child custody battle and is becoming rather unhinged. The closest place for computer repair is about 80 miles away.

Sooooo....now I get the privilege of driving about 160 miles to take the laptop to either "The Geek Squad" or some other technician. Now "I" want to hang someone up by the balls.

The alternative is to have the Dumbplumber stewing and pouting for a week or go now!! He says: that without his computer, he feels like Hannibal Lector in a straight jacket and with a grill on his teeth.


On my way!!

UPDATE:

I remembered that one of my friends has a teenaged son who is a total computer geek. With a phone call and some instructions, we were able to fix the problem without having to drive OR spend a lot of money. A $50 referral fee is in order. Woo Hoo. Dumbplumber is doing a happy dance

Buzzard Update

Well, the buzzards have taken off for other trees. We succeeded in discouraging them by sitting on the deck, drinking scotch, talking and listening to loud old rock and roll music. They evidently don't like Led Zepplin or Chicago. Also a few wacks from a pellet gun sort of helped them to get the hint.

I'm feeling better now that I have learned that the plague of frogs wasn't just in my office. On the other hand.....maybe I should be worried about the entire town?

Ominous Portents

I'm not a superstitious person. Black cats crossing my path...."Here kitty kitty". Breaking a mirror...."Damn, now I have to buy another one". Friday the 13th...."Whatever"

However, in the last 3 days some very weird things have happened.

First. The huge juniper tree that is next to our house has been full of turkey buzzards. I don't mean one or two, but more like 10 to 20. They have never roosted in this tree. They just sit there staring, and when they see us, lazilly fly off and circle around and around over the river below. Creepy.

Next. Yesterday when I came into my office, the floor was full of tiny frogs, some in a state of dessication and others hoping around. Ewwww. I swept up the dead guys and took the live ones outside into the bushes. Today. The same thing. FROGS!

Should I be worried? Anyone have a Gideon's Bible handy?

Wait..... They told me there was to be no math!!

Remember when you were in school and you were forced to take math... Algebra, Geometry... and you said to your snotty teenage self...."When am I ever going to need THIS stuff?" and dug in your heels and you did just the minimal amount of work to get by.

Well, if you ever plan to be a quilter: or actually to be a carpenter or any other building type of trade, you are going to need those skills. Quilting and especially piece work is all about math and geometry.

Since I have all these scraps of fabric to use, I want to make a small baby quilt for the pending GRANDSON. Something that he can lay on and that they can use as a wall hanging later. I've been informed that the baby's room will be in bright primary colors so I've settled on this pattern?



Cool. So I download the pattern and instructions from www.allpeoplequilt.com. Easy peasy pattern. Just make strips of fabric from the scraps using the rotary cutter and sew together.

Unfortunately, there is a snag. The quilt is too small given the size of strips in the pattern. Each block is 7 inches. All I have to do is figure what size I want the finished quilt to be and enlarge the block and enlarge the strips. No problemo. Right?

Each block is 7 strips wide



Each strip is cut with a 1/4 inch seam allowance. SO then, if I want a 12 inch block then I divide by 7 and add 1/2 inch to each piece. 2.2142857 inches. Hmmmm that isn't going to work.

Ok. 10 inch blocks. 10/7 +.5 = 1.9285714 yikes. Too much math.

Ah... Screw it. I'll just have to wing it!! Cut the strips 2.25 inches and end up with a finished strip 1.75 inches.

Sorting the Colors

FINALLY.

All the fabric has been ironed.



This is just some of the different colors in prints. (See The DumbPlumber in the background? Getting ready for work.) There are many more bins. Quilters are NOT hoarders.....really we aren't.....I keep repeating to myself.

Next step is to sort all of it down by color and hue.



I was really surprised at the amount of fabric. Some very large pieces of yardage and some teeny tiny scraps that I had saved. Ironing piece by piece it was like a time capsule of my life. A piece left over from a dress I made for my daugher when she was 5 years old. A scrap from a tropical print dress I had made for myself 8 years ago. Pieces where I could see the shapes that were cut out when I was making baby grab balls to sell. Odds and ends of fabric from wall hangings that I had made years and years ago.

I also discovered some fabulous fabric that I had completely forgotten about. Oooooh. Nice.

Now to get to work and actually make something!!!

Back in the Quilting Saddle Again

Quilting used to be a passion of mine and for some reason about 8 years ago, I just set it all aside. Now, with impending arrival of a grandchild it seemed to be time to break out the fabric, sewing machine, quilt magazines, books and all the other stuff.

I've hung onto all of these craft magazines and stuff for years and years. Everytime, my husband has to lend his strong back to moving them, he suggests that perhaps now might be a good time to get rid of these things. "ARE YOU INSANE!!" I respond and make some suggestions about lightening up his stash of tools in the shop. "ARE YOU INSANE" he responds. It's a Mexican stand off.

One small problem. The fabric had been stored in our pumphouse and last year we had a flood that soaked all the boxes and boxes of fabric. I had to throw it all into the washer to clean and dry. The result......a big jumble of all sizes, shapes and colors of fabrics.

Just like any other craft or job, you need to have all of your materials and tools in order before you can even begin. This means, hour and hours of ironing and sorting fabrics. Tedious, boring but necessary.

Under the everything old is new again label is the discovery that while my quiliting was in cold storage, technology has been marching on. New techniques, new tools, new ways of assembling. I feel like the Rip VanWinkle auto mechanic who fell asleep in the 1960's and woke up to cars that are computerized electronic marvels that take a whole new set of skills to work upon.

War With The Robins

Our war with the robins, who are aptly named Turdus Migratorius begins this time of year each year. The little turds are greedy gluttons.



spot the yard art?

Some years we have cherries. Some years we don't. This year we had a LOT of cherries and it was a race between us and the robins on who was going to get them first.



We have several cherry trees on the property. Some sweet and this tree which produces fabulous sour cherries in enormous quantities. The issue is that until they are fairly ripe, they are really really sour. Once they are ripe we have a window of about 5 days to get them before the little Turdus do.

So.....I've been picking and picking and picking cherries. Then pitting and pitting and pitting.

I feel like Forest Gump. Cherry jam, cherry jelly, cherry syrup, cherry cobbler, cherry ice-cream, cherry pies and bags and bags of frozen pitted cherries.

At least the rotten robins didn't get the lion's share this year.

Next......blackberries. I really am a glutton for punishment.

So....What Happens If California Goes Bankrupt?

California, like many many States, like the Federal Government and like many Citizens, is teettering on the edge of bankruptcy. Unlike the citizens who have to make some hard decisions about what to buy, what to eat, if they can keep their house, if they can keep their car..... the California Legislature refuses to cut back or scale down any of the ridiculous pipe dream projects that the brain dead liberal voters shoved through the referendem process and through the legislature.


They refuse to cut back on entitlement programs, on top heavy beaurocries, on expensive state vehicles for everyone, parties, junkets, useless building projects, redundant departments....>HUGE pension and benefit packages. Nothing. They just refuse. Head in the sand. La lalalalala.

So, my hubby (The Dumbplumber) and I were saying. So what? What if California goes bankrupt and can't pay its bills. How will this affect us. We decided...not that much.

What could happen

Cal Trans will have to lay off workers

• Instead of 6 guys leaning on shovels, there will be 3.


• They don't fix the roads here in our rural area anyway so for several years we shouldn't see many problems. Too bad for the cities.


• When it snows, we have to plow our own roads anyway and all of us have 4x4 capability.


• We might be in trouble in the winter for food delivery to the grocery stores. But, not to worry. I have the Armageddon Pantry and there are plenty of people with chickens, rabbits, cattle, sheep, goats and large gardens for seasonal vegetables and fruits.

The Highway Patrol won't have time to try to hassle people for not wearing seat belts, cracked windshields and trailer ball infractions. The donut and coffee shops might suffer...but sooooo?

The local Countie Mounties won't be able to patrol our area. Oh...wait....they don't anyway. We have one guy on duty at night for a several hundred square miles area. We are on our own now. How much worse can it get?

Maybe the welfare queens and druggies getting welfare and rent subsidies will either have to get freaking jobs or better yet....move back to East LA where they came from. The truly needy will be helped by our existing support groups of the Food Pantry, Churches and Fraternal Organizations like the Lions and Masons.
The schools may have to lay off some personnel. They will threaten us with the teachers being laid off. Notice that they never get rid of administrative people. However, since they don't teach much now anyway and most teachers are not all that educated in the first place, I think the gap can be filled in with qualified volunteers. We have a plethora of retirees who obtained their educations before the liberals dumbed down the education system.
The local DMV and County regulatory offices may have to close or be pared down. Big deal. They aren't open all the time anyway and mostly exist to make our lives a pain. Maybe now we can build that storage shed without having to pay through the nose for inspections and permits and be annoyed with stupid regulations. Like...... are there any butterflies that breed in the area that you want to build. Seriously. That is one of the studies you have to do before building.
Garbage service. Don't have any available here.
Recycling centers. You must be joking
Water. I'll use my well like everyone else does....thanks.
Fire Department: all volunteers not supported by the county, although they do get some small portion of the property tax rolls.
Cal Fire: Well, now this IS one that I would miss. If we have a forest fire we do use the California Dept of Forestry fire crews. On the other hand, since the Federal Government has seen fit to lock away much of our lands from us and instituted the 'roadless' rule, maybe we should just let the Feds take over this also. Most of our fires are lightening caused. What did the Indians do about fires before the 'white man stole his land'. Nothing. Let'em burn. Guess this is what we will have to do also.
Power. Well, one of the largest hydro facilities is right next door, so to speak, and we have people who have already volunteered to "divert the grid" if push comes to shove. Plus there are several private bio mass power plants that can be "localized" and solar arrays and some wind power farms.
Of course, California, instead of reducing costs, lowering payroll by paring back on useless and redundant positions, policing the welfare rolls and getting illegals off the system and off of our backs.....the Legislature will try to raise taxes even more driving more businesses out of the State or underground. That will be bad because some people may have to move out of State and towns will suffer through a declining population and declining amount of money circulating in the economy. Cash will be king and barter transactions will increase.
So. Go bankrupt California. Not much will change for me. Since the State of California doesn't do much for me now other than take my money .....I'm not going to miss it.

Just When You Think All Is Lost

Just when you think all is lost. That people are so jaded with life. That people have turned inward to avoid interacting with others. Something beautiful breaks out and brings wonderment and joy to the faces of the unsuspecting bystanders.



On Saturday, April 24th, the Opera Company of Philadelphia teamed up with the Reading Terminal Market Italian Festival for a large-scale "Flash Opera" event! Over 30 members of the Opera Company of Philadelphia Chorus and principal cast members of LA TRAVIATA performed the famed "Brindisi" in the aisles of Reading Terminal Market, entertaining hundreds of Philadelphians, and proving that the perfect accompaniment for all things Italian is a little Verdi!

Swimming in the Past

Lately I've been reminiscing about things in the past. Maybe it is my age...."young, young" my hubby and I always chant when we think about it. But face it. No spring chickens we.

Maybe it is the times we are living in, where we see the America of our youth changing, not to the good, and we see it slipping away. I imagine my parents thought the same thing in the 60's and my grandparents in the 30's. Its a generational thing.

Maybe it is that I'm going to be a Grandmother for the first time and now I'm thinking even more seriously about the next generation and wonder what his/her childhood memories will be like. The idea that Hip Hop music may be the "Oldies" of the future for my grandchild is unsettling.

About the Grandmother thing. YAY!!!! Awesome. I can hardly wait. And I plan to post more about that later.

This post is about reminiscing about the past, so back to my meandering thoughts. On another blog the conversation turned to swimming and which is better. The Ocean or Lakes. I say Ocean is better.

I grew up mostly in California and swimming as children in the summertime was where ever our parents took us.

We learned to swim in summer programs at the local high school. Every day of the week over many summers we would be dropped off for an hour of swimming lessons. Starting with madly kicking our way from one end of the pool to the other behind floaty boards to eventually being able to master the butterfly stroke. Then we would have a lunch break where the pool closed for an hour. My brother and I would walk across the street to the small Mom and Pop grocery store on the corner. We would suppliment our bag lunch with sodas, pretzles, ice cream bars and for my brother the latest edition of The Green Lantern or other comic to add to his collection.

After lunch we would go back and swim for another couple of hours for open swimming. This is when all the kids in the area would ride their bikes in from all over the neighborhoods or their parents would drop them off, pay 50 cents or so to swim. Then we would play and frolic in the water and the sun for hours.

Imagine it compared to today. NO sunscreen, resulting in massive sunburns. No adult supervision other than a few lifeguards. Kids playing and yes bullying, pushing, shoving, dunking without hovering parents or other adults to interfere in the fun. Freely able to wander around the neighborhood. Buy junk food if we wanted. Today parents who allowed these sort of things would be arrested for child abuse. However, we as children LOVED it.

I became quite a good swimmer and was on swim team in high school.

Occasionally, on a weekend, my parents would take us to a company picnic at a local reservoir. Those were fun times but the swimming was terrible. This is where I got my distaste of lake swimming. The only way to swim was to wade out through the weeds, muck and who knows what that your feet could feel on the bottom of the lake until you got out to where you could actually swim for any distance.... if you watched out for boats.

The Ocean is where the real swimming and best summer swimming memories lie for me. As a teen growing up in California if you didn't surf, body surf or at least go to the beach and hang with your friends who surfed, you were a nerd. That word didn't exist then, but the concept sure did.



Beach Boys, Jan and Dean. Hot summer sun at the beach. Cool cars cruising the main in the balmy California summer nights. Clean hot beach sand. The boardwalk with the carnival atmosphere, rides, more junk food.


And of course, warm beer bought by that cool older guy or gal that you happened to know, liquor pilfered from the parent's stash. My parent's later told us, they knew all about it, but figured it was a part of growing up just as they did in the 40's. Rites of passage so to speak. As the 60's morphed into the 70's, beer morphed into other illegal recreational substances and the music morphed into Jefferson Airplane and The White Rabbit, Tower of Power and Bump City.......but enough about that. I'm about to be a Grandmother for God's sake. (smile)

Moving away from the coast to the Sierra Nevada mountians:
I loved to swim in the mountain rivers and streams. The Feather River, before they drowned it under a huge resevoir was wonderful. No crud on the bottom of the river. We would take an ice chest full of food, drinks and walk down steep trails and over flumes to get to the swimming holes and spend all day. You couldn't swim for any distance like I was used to doing, but the water was wonderful to float upon and dive into. Getting down to the river was a challenge. Getting back after a day of 'recreation' was even more so.

Crystal clear and very cold rushing water while the granite boulders were hot from the baking sun and would immediately soak up the wetness from your skin. There were deep pools between the rapids, where the water would be calm and clear. I would dive to the bottom and fluff up the sand and pick up gold nuggets and interesting rocks that had been hidden for years and years. I have a worn down ring that I wear every day that was made from those nuggets and a beautiful rock that I rescued from a deep pool. I've carried both of these with me for the last 30 years.

I look at the rock and imagine the millions of years it took to create it, polish it and wear it down. I imagine the trillions of gallons of water that carved it from a larger shape to what it is now. To me the rock represents time and endurance. Ah....time.



After they drowned the river, we would go swimming in the middle of the reservoir from houseboats or floating platforms anchored off shore. It was strange and slightly erie to think that our previous summer swimming holes were lurking 50 to 80 feet or more below our feet. Never to be seen again. Dark and now covered with silt. Existing only in our memories which will vanish when we do. No bottom anywhere. Just steep mountain sides on most of the rim of the lake.

The memories of swimming. I hardly swim anymore unless we are someplace where there is a pool or we are at the ocean where it is warm. Now when I go out in the sun to swim or to lounge around, sunscreen and hat are the norm. Probably too late to protect my skin from the hours and hours in the sun as a child and youth and young adult, but I wouldn't trade the memories for anything.

I Think I Love This Man

Shhhh. Don't tell my husband.




Seriously. We need Christie to run for President in 2012. He is exactly what the country needs. Conservative, articulate, common sense, take charge, unafraid.

I'm in awe of his extemporaneous speaking abilities. Notice, no teleprompter, unlike Obama who seems to be a robot reading from speeches prepared by someone else.

Christy puts together a coherent speech that has a beginning, crescendos to a high point and a powerful conclusion. He doesn't use a string of talking points put together like a string of beads. Sometimes I get the feeling that the politicians, Dems and Repubs, have a bowl with little balls in it, like you see at a bingo game, with talking points on each one. Pulling the balls out in random order and string them together to robotically spew the speech dujour.

When Christie speaks you get the feeling that these are things he knows, feels strongly about and understands. He tells a story and, as in this clip, has the audience hanging on his every word.

Hopefully, the American people are tired of pre-packaged political clone candidates that are groomed and controlled by slick handlers. The Hillbuzz guys call them whitebread mayonnaise and cucumber sandwich candidates.

Hopefully we will look beyond Christy's portly frame, his cow licked hair, his New Jersey accent, lack of expertly tailored clothing and see the character of a REAL leader who can pull us from the abyss.

So......shhhhhh. Don't tell my husband that I am in love with this man.....Oh. wait.....I just discovered that my husband is also in love too. Well, maybe not real love, but also wants him to run for President.

Teaching My Husband to Play the Guitar: What could go wrong?

I learned to play the guitar at a very young age and performed professionally for quite a few years. Here is a picture of me at 14 years old ------->

I kept on playing for fun and occasionally at fund raisers for my daughter's school, but gradually I let it get away from me and a few years ago sold my guitar because it was just sitting the case forlorn and neglected.

You know how that song goes....you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone. ? I started to miss my guitar. Finally my long suffering husband got tired of my whining and said "buy a new guitar and shut up". Well, not exactly like that but that was the gist of it.

It turns out that he has always wanted to play the guitar and his father's guitar has been sitting up in the office collecting dust for years. I AM the Dust Bunny Queen after all...dust...get it?

Nevermind

It also turns out that in my youth I taught guitar to children. So.....we get the bright idea! I'll take my new guitar, get some new strings for my hubby's inherited guitar and I'll teach him how to play.

What could go wrong?

The Landscape Game

I stumbled upon this web site American Digest and an interesting article about something called
The Landscape game. It consists of a series of questions that you are supposed to answer and will, according to the author, be revealing.

Here are my answers and I'm curious as to what they mean. I dream a lot and my dreams are very vivid and detailed. It will be interesting to see what others have posted or answered.

1) You are sleeping and you dream. Describe your dream.
My dream last night. I was part of a team of people competing against another team to decorate a room. The room was not described and there were no real rules so we had no idea what it was supposed to be. However, we did get a hint that it was supposed to be a bedroom.

The teams were given access to a warehouse of furniture and other accessories. (I've dreamed of this place many times and it is really cool because there are so many things to discover and find.) We choose several items. A bed, which is a hospital bed. We aren't really happy with this but it is the only bed in the place. Some chairs, very neat art deco light wood and a geometric blue print. Side tables, lamps and so on.

The moderator? or person in charge now gives us the particulars of the room and it is very weird. It is a narrow and long room. About 8 feet wide and 20 feet long. We are quite upset and irritated because now the stuff we selected might not work.

Suddenly I realize that we might be able to make use of the spaces within the walls of the room. and I ask the moderator if that is approved. Yes. So we make the beds (somehow we have a lot more material and the hospital bed is immaterial) inset into the wall on both sides of the end of the room. Twin beds that can fold up into the wall and when folded down meet together in the middle of the room with some fold out feet for stability. When the beds are folded up, the underside is decorative with pictures and paintings.

We realize that the end of the room has a dormer window and that there is a lot of room inside the walls on either side and we build in some dresser drawers and cupboards. So when the beds are folded up there is a clear path to the window seat in the dormer window.

The rest of the room is furnished with a seating arrangement with the art deco chairs a book case and the lamps.

I'm very satisfied with the result while still being ticked off about not knowing what the rules were in the first place.

2) You wake up in a house. The house can be anywhere within the world. Describe the house and where it is located in the world.

I wake up in a "dream house" meaning that I dream this place often. It has been part of agroup of recurring dreams for years. Somehow, and weirdly, it is very much like the house I live in now.

I don’t know where the house is. The house is located on a bluff, a rather steep bluff, overlooking a lake. It is difficult to get down to the lake but it is a great place to swim. The house is like a long low ranch house with many large windows facing the bluff and the view. Facing the view, the right hand side is the living quarters. The left hand side is the sleeping area. The interest of the house is the screened in porches/decks and area that goes down to the lake. There are neighbors but they don’t really matter much. The front out to the street is a long ways and fairly rural

3) When you wake up, what time is it?
8:00 am

4) You get up and go into the kitchen. What kind of kitchen is in this house?
A really great kitchen with a center island and seating on one side All the appliances and utensils. Ceramic counter top with a good dining area right off to the right. It feels like a slightly 70’s vibe, which is not what my real kitchen has. Attached to the kitchen is a dining area for casual dining. Off to the side is a more formal dining area attached to a large living room

5) You are going out for a walk. As you go to the door, you notice the trees around the house. How many are there and how are they placed in relation to the house?
More than five but not much more. They are Aspens and Maples. The trees are to the right shading the house as I leave because the driveway is to the left.

6) You are following a winding path of stones and sand, past rocks and dry reeds that rattle and hum in the breeze. You crest a rise and start down. Looking around you see, beside the path, a bowl which you pick up and carry with you. Describe the bowl.

A wooden bowl carved from a burl of wood. Maybe manzanita.

7) The path moves on past ruins, there are false turnings everywhere, but you move straight on. Beside the path you see a key which you pick up and carry with you. What is the key like?

Iron and really big like those from the 1800’s ornate and heavy.

8) The path moves out of a forest into the open. It grows hot. You find yourself at a body of water. What kind of body of water is it and what do you do when you come up to it?

A meandering stream that has created a deep pool shaded by more trees. The stream/river runs over many large rocks and the pool is deep and clear. I take off my clothes and swim.

9) You move on along the path and, after some time you come to a wall. What is the wall made of? What you do when you come to it?

Stones. Like an Irish fieldstone hand stacked fence covered with moss on the shady side. It is about 4 feet high. I lean on the top of the wall and look over the top.

10) What lies beyond the wall?

A pasture green and beautiful with cattle and sheep and with more stone fences in the distance

Mind Games: The Good Kind

After watching this clip of the products of our Unionized American Education system. It reminded me of "The Night of the Living Dead". Brain dead zombies who only want to destroy the living. The scary thing is that these brain dead zombies actually VOTE and make decisions that affect the rest of us. Be afraid.....be very afraid.

I appreciate my parents more and more every day. They taught us to think, reason and to learn.

A quick background:

When I was a child, we traveled the US. Traveled, A LOT. My parents, myself and my younger brother. We were basically gypsies and lived in a trailer that we hauled behind a string of station wagons.

Here is a photo of the trailer in the background.


I think we were in San Antonio at the time. My brother was very much into Davy Crockett (can you tell?) and we were going to the Alamo. Nice bangs, huh? Hair cutting might not have been my mother's forte.

The traveling was for my parents' jobs. They were both Union Printers back when printing was a highly skilled occupation. Today, anyone who can use a word processor and a keyboard can work in the industry. Back then, it was hot lead type and required math skills.

As Union card holders, they could "pull a traveling card". This meant that you could go into any newspaper and see if anyone was looking for a "sub". This means that the permanent employee would like to take his vacation or some extra time off, and then my parents could step in and work in their place. As a result of this lifestyle we moved from town to town and my brother and I went to many different schools in a year. I remember, and have been told, at least 8 in my second grade year.

In the 50's traveling in the car wasn't entertaining or really much fun. No air-conditioning. AM Radio with spotty reception. No seat belts. Traveling through Arizona on Route 66 for the fourth or fifth time, with two irritable fighting children in the back seat, my parents must have been out of their minds. To beat the heat, we used a window hung evaporative cooler (like the one in the photo) and hung canvas bags of water in front of the radiator to keep the car from boiling over. My parents would take turns driving and would place wet towels on the arm that was exposed to the blistering sun to keep from blistering themselves.



So...to entertain us and try to keep our collective sanity, we played "Mind Games", sang songs in rounds and in harmony and we practiced our reading skills on road signs and of course Burma Shave signs.

One of the favorite Mind Games was: "I'm Thinking of a Thing".

You had to specify it was Animal, Mineral, or Vegetable or a blend of the three Then the game was to ask questions that could only be answered by Yes or No. It really made us think and think logically. We could while away hours playing this game.

If the thing was "A Mink Coat", it was Animal.
"is it a living animal" No
"is it a part of an animal" Yes
"do we have one of these" No
"does anyone we know have one" Yes

And so on, until we guessed it or gave up and the person won that round. My brother was really good at picking things that we could never ever guess. A feather.

My mother or father would read stories to us during these long long drives and read from historical novels and text books and we would discuss, ask questions and absorb the information like the little mind sponges that children are. We played a game where we would add up the numbers on the license plates ahead of us and see who got the right answer first. My mother usually won because the rest of us are math challenged. We would name the animals that we have seen and see who got the most between towns. Who could spot the most cars from different States. My brother and I, take turns reading the road signs. And when we were all tired out, climb over the back seat and go to sleep on the pillows and blankets in the back of the wagon. I imagine that was a huge relief for my parents. Blessed silence.

Every day, I thank my parents for giving me a really unique and wonderful childhood and encouraging us to learn and to think.

Martin Guitars: A GREAT Company

I just discovered that the guitar that I bought, well actually my father bought, for me in 1967 is still under warranty 43 years later. Now this is a true and lasting value from a great American company.

And.....no need to do the math...OK.

My father bought a guitar for me to replace the Gibson that I had been playing for several years. The Gibson was stolen in 1966 and I was very bummed out. You could say those words with a straight face in 1966. Bummed out. I had been playing for some time and had taken lessons in a store in the San Jose general area from a guy who was about 8 years or so older than me at the time, he also gave my Dad some lessons too. He turned out to be someone famous. One day in San Francisco, I was at a concert and saw him playing with a group. Jefferson Airplane. You might have heard of him Jorma Kaukonen. So cool. I hadn't had lessons in quite a few years by then but I still remembered him as Jerry that kind of cute but much much older than me guy who could play the guitar pretty good and tried to teach me a few chords. Jorma.....lol who made that name up?

Sooooo anyway. Back to the guitar. I had just turned 17. (I told you DON'T do the math.) Since I was playing in front of larger crowds by this time, doing USO shows as well as gigs in auditoriums and other large venues we decided to step up to a bigger box guitar. A Martin D-18. Dreadnought. I loved that guitar. What a sound! I continued to play and sing for some years and performed in coffee houses and cocktail lounges in the Bay Area and other places, sometimes in a group or as a solo act doing blues, soft rock and folk gigs. I even took my guitar to Ireland and England for a summer with a girl friend who had a boyfriend there and we sang and played our way around the country. I was into Irish music at that particular time.

After a few more years and having moved around a lot, college, working, marriage, a family. I gradually gave up playing so much and eventually I put the Martin in the case and just brought it out occaisonally and then rarely.

Over time the tension on the strings of any guitar will cause the neck to bend a bit and lift the strings from the frets so that the action is not as low as it should be. It makes it hard to play on the upper frets and bar cords become troublesome. Especially for hands that are .....well....seasoned. My Martin was no different.

The neck has to be reset completely. Possibly the bridge lowered. In addition over time the pick guard lifted a bit and created a crack. Plus the neck arch makes it very difficult to tune. The cost to repair would be huge. I was very "bummed out".

Through some conversations on the net....I discovered that the Martin Company has a lifetime warranty if you are the original owner. GET OUT!! Really??? Yes, really.

How fantastic is that? How cool is this? All I had to do was prove that I was the original owner. Each Martin has its own serial number. However, it wasn't registered when bought and has never been registered.

"Do I have the original receipts?" they asked.
"You have to be joking!" I said.

"Do you have any photos of you playing it when new?"
"Why.... yes I do!"

Age 17 at Fort Ord...I think.



The upshot is: I now have a warranty and on my way to visit family for Christmas, I'm taking the Martin to a repair shop in Palo Alto to be fixed. FREE!!!

So exciting to be able to play again. I can't wait.

Is Martin a great company or what?

Me at age 14 playing the Gibson

Obama Wants Moms To Go To School

Every morning my home page comes up with various panes that contain news, weather and of course.....advertising. For the last several months it is all about Obama.
Obama wants us to get new house loans. Obama want us to go back to school.

So this morning I see THIS.



WOAH!!! They must have some butt ugly Moms in Alabama.

Uh Oh. The Secret Is Out.

Now I've done it. Exposed myself.

I gave directions, from my perch on the couch, to hubby on how to cook the chicken. He went to the store and bought one of those bags of Cesar Salad mix and decided to make some instant mashed potatoes to go with the chicken thighs.

We have a friend who is just now single again. (Divorce) He is hopeless in the kitchen but he told my hubby that instant mashed potatoes were easy to make. Dumbplumber said: "If Don can do it, so can I."

So....he lined the roasting pan with foil, rubbed the thighs with Dijon Mustard, sprinkled each one with some brown sugar, salt and pepper and put them in the oven at 350 for 35 minutes, then sprinkled the thighs with bread crumb, turned up the heat to 450 for 15 minutes. Made the salad. Read the instructions on the mashed potato packet.

He had some questions like:

He: "How the hell do I know what 2 tablespoons of butter are?"
Me: "It says it on the butter wrapper"
He: "There isn't a wrapper!! Now what?"
Me: "About an inch and half of the stick" (He's very good with measurements)

"Where is the sauce pan?"
"Under the left side of the stove on the lower shelf"
"There are three!! Which one do I use."
"Hold them up so I can see>--->> that one....Oh and be sure to use the lid."
"Grumble grumble"

"Where did you hide the bread crumbs?"
"On the lazy suzan in the lower cabinet next to the right side of the stove. Its in a blue kind of can."
"Where?"

It was actually kind of funny. All strange territory for him, trying to find things. Just about as lost as I feel in his workshop if I have to find a tool.

When dinner came out....it was GREAT. He said. "Wow. This isn't hard. Its a snap." Very proud of himself. Rightly.

Now I'm exposed. The secret is out. Cooking really isn't that hard.

However, his next statement was.

"Hurry and get well, I'm tired of being the woman in the house."

Help I've Fallen and I'm Trapped in the Living Room

Well, I really did it, this time. I fell on the steps in our sunken living room and cracked one ankle and severely sprained the other.

I tripped on my pajama bottoms while turning on the stairs to grab the television remote. I was just about to sit down an enjoy a really bad B- movie, when......wham.....missed that bottom step.

You know how you take some things for granted. Mobility is one of those. We have a sunken living room attached to the home office/guest room which has (Thank GOD) a full bathroom. Now I'm trapped in that area because I can't climb the stairs to the rest of the house while using crutches yet. My world has now shrunk for the next few days, maybe a week. They don't think I need a walking cast, just stay off of the feet for a while....oh and stay off of the stairs.

I guess it could be worse. I could have broken an arm, hip or something really serious.

So in the meantime, I get to work from home. Sitting in front of the computer with my feet on a pillow, popping a pain pill or two. I'm also getting a lot done on my knitting projects and reading that has stacked up not to mention a probably marathon session of World of Warcraft later today.

My hubby, "The Dumbplumber", has really stepped up to the plate. He has learned how to make coffee (we make it from fresh ground whole beans) and swears that he will promptly forget this skill as soon as I am better. Until we got the crutches from a friend, he was my crutch helping to the bathroom and back to the couch. Since the kitchen is in the upper level, he also gets to play Stepinfetchit, bringing me dinner, coffee, clothes, pillows, books and of course water for the pain pills.

We were planning, before my gymnastics on the stair, to have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy and salad, followed by his favorite, carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Ah well. I informed him that I would now teach him how to roast a chicken and make roasted yams. The salad he can already do. He swears to forget these skills too. Actually if it weren't snowing, Mr. Plumber can barbeque a mean steak and he isn't half bad on breakfast either. He made us scrambled eggs with mushrooms, bacon, english muffins and quartered oranges. And later today said he would clean the kitchen and so some laundry.

Hmmmm.... I wonder how far I can push this being waited upon thing? Not too far I think.

Seriously. I miss walking.

Doctor Utopia and Our Grim Future

Over 50 years ago, the people of the United States were just recovering from a World War that almost destroyed us. The people who fought in that war also were those who lived through the hardships of the Great Depression. They saw and experienced unimaginable horrors in Europe. The Death Camps of the Nazis. Death of comrades in arms. They worked and created wonderful things, industry, the infrastructure of our cities and transportation systems. They were indeed the Greatest Generation and we should be forever greatful for their sacrifices and for the life that we live now. Their gift to us.

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Unfortunately, over the last 50 years, we have been squandering that gift and throwing away the greatest government on Earth, piece by piece on restrictive legistative bill at a time. Our country and way of life was created over 250 years ago by another generation of brave people who also sacrificed and gave birth to the United States of America and the U.S. Constitution.

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Since then, we have allowed teachers to no longer teach our children the greatness of America or of our founders, but rather denigrate our country and ourselves. Our children have been taught for several generations that we are bad, evil and that we need to be brought down and punished in some way. Media constantly hammers us through movies, television shows, magazines, newspapers with the message, we are bad, we must change our ways, we are not worthy. They are relentless and many now accept this lie without any critical thinking. In fact schools have eliminated critical thinking skills as part of the long term plan to subjugate the people.

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Instead of teaching children to hate their own country and to hate themselves, we need to relearn some lessons that our Grandparents and even Great Granparents learned and paid for with their own blood sweat and tears.

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Watch this video from 1948 and see if you don't recognize our danger, our current situation and pray that we don't need to learn these lessons all over again with our own young people's blood sweat and tears.

Springtime Gardening and Fava Beans

This year we really got cracking on our vegetable garden. The Dumbplumber, at my constant urging or nagging as he would say, put in some great raised beds. 6 beds that are 4 feet by 8 feet by 24 inches high and spaced just wide enough to run the wheel barrow through. We lined them with chicken wire on the bottoms and up the sides and then installed 1 inch PVC pipe at intervals along the sides before filling with dirt. This was so that I could use smaller size PVC and make hoops over the beds.

Because it is cold here in the spring time due to the elevation, it is very hard to plant early. With the hoops running the length of the bed and covered with plastic it creates a tunnel/greenhouse to get an early start on planting. The other advantage is that to discourage the birds and deer, we covered the hoops with deer netting to keep the critters from gobbling up all of the young shoots.

There is no point in planting things that you can easily and cheaply get at the local grocery store. So, I try to plant things that are unusual or that are good trading stock with other local gardeners. This year I had a great crop of French Shallots (which are very expensive) and Elephant garlic. I'm trading with a friend who has a lot of Torpedo and Sweet Walla Walla onions. Yum Yum.

This was the first year that I had grown Fava Beans, so I didn't plant to many, as I wasn't sure if we were even going to like them. Picking the last of the crop today at lunch, we are planning to have them with dinner tonight.



Probably something with Garlic, Shallots, Lemon, Thyme (which I also grew) and shaved Assiago Cheese. If they are a success, next year I'll plant a LOT more as they were probably the easiest thing I have ever grown in the garden.

Next year I will be urging (nagging) my husband to put ground cloth and gravel between the planting beds to keep the mud and weeds down. I'm sure he is really looking forward to it. :-D