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Little houses

10 Mar

30 years ago I walked into a little nick knack shop in Littleton, Colorado. There in a case was the most amazing little house. Only a few inches tall and made from some type of ceramic, it depicted a woodcutter’s hut built around a tree. The hut included so much detail for being so little. I was captivated. I don’t recall the price they asked back then. However, at the time, newly married and one minimum wage income, there was no way I could afford it. Time passed and I moved on to other things, but I never forgot the woodcutters hut.

A few years ago while walking through a local thrift store, I noticed a cute little house with a thatched roof and a waterwheel. For a couple of dollars I picked it up as an inspiration piece for my study. It was created by Lilliput Lane and was titled the Watermill. Over the next couple years I picked up several more pieces to add to my collection.

Watermill

Watermill

More detail on the Watermill

More detail on the Watermill

Fast forward until a few months ago. I was looking at my little Watermill and thought about the woodcutter’s hut. Hmm. I wonder if I could find one online? So. I went searching for The Woodcutter’s Hut. I did not know the manufacturer, so I started with Lilliput Lane. No hits. It took a while but I finally found what I was looking for. The Woodcutter’s Cottage was created by David Winter back in 1983. The production was retired in 1988.

The Woodcutter's Cottage Image courtesy of David Winter. info

The Woodcutter’s Cottage Image courtesy of David Winter. info

Now for the bad news. The asking price on Amazon is $200 USD. Now some of you would say, “Go for it. You’ve waited a long time. You can afford it now.” And, you would probably be right. However, compared to the $3.99 USD, I paid for my last David Winter piece, this would cost more than my whole collection combined. Not a bargain.

So, unless one of you, my dearest friends in the whole wide world, have a copy you would be willing to part with for something less than my right arm, I will wait and see what comes up on eBay and the thrift stores. You never know what you’ll find and as my Domestic CEO keeps telling me, “It’s the thrill of the hunt!”

 
8 Comments

Posted by on March 10, 2014 in Other Strangeness

 

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50 Shades of Cold!

03 Mar
That thing can kill you if it falls on you!

That thing can kill you if it falls on you!

Today is the fiftieth day this winter where the temperature has been below zero degrees Fahrenheit. Today we broke a 149 year old record. It was -17 this morning, beating the record of -13 set in the 1800’s. For much of this winter, the temperature would have to increase forty to fifty degrees just to reach freezing!

As a frame of reference, for those of you who have never experienced this sort of folly, Try living in your freezer for two months straight. The problem with that analogy is that it does not factor in any wind. You see wind increases the rate of heat loss. The food service industry calls this Flash Freezing or Freeze Drying which sucks all the moisture out. The slightest breeze can drive relative temperature down from minus ten degrees to minus thirty or minus forty with ease. At those temps. exposed skin begins to freeze in less than five minutes! Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

Those of you with common sense enough to live anywhere else may ask, “Why on Earth did you leave the beautiful Colorado mountains for such a miserable climate?” I have been asking myself that same question for many weeks. The short answer is: to be closer to aging parents. The answer I’ve been given myself lately is, “I don’t F*^#ing know!”  I must have lost my mind.

I look out the window at where my flower garden should be and I see snow. In ‘normal” years, the crocuses should be pushing their way up and blooming in the next two weeks. Hell, they would have to have four-foot long stems to reach the sunlight through the snow/ice pack until mid-May at this rate. The stone pagoda in my Japanese garden looks more like Mount Fuji under the snow.

The Weather Nazi’s (What we call meteorologist) are telling us that we will see temps at 33 degrees this Friday. Whoo Hoo!

Okay that’s just sad when people are cheering and parading around in shorts, in the street, because the temp will be above freezing.

I need to go warm my hands up by sticking them in the refrigerator now, so this rant is over. Have a great and warmer day today! 🙂

 
27 Comments

Posted by on March 3, 2014 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Just Weird!

14 Feb

Have you every sat down to do something and the next thing you know a whole day has gone by? It’s been eleven days since my last post and for the life of me, I have no idea where the time went. It’s not like when I was unemployed for five months and would play Harpoon on my IBM Model 50z from 9:00 PM until 3:00 AM. I knew what I was doing then. I was a conscious choice. I was trying to escape the fact that 250 resumes were sent out to 250 companies and only two interviews were generated. If you have to take off your shoes to figure out the numbers, that’s 248 reject letters!!! But I digress.

I got a flash update on MAVEN ans the next thing I know it’s Friday morning a week later and I don’t know where the time went. There is some good news. Wherever the time went, at least some of it went towards the WIP. Progress is being made and the writing habit I set out to create this year seems to be working. As you’ll see later even that had huge amounts of weirdness. Now that I know I lost time, I’ve been trying to find it. It’s strange there are just blank spots that I can’t account for. All of the important stuff got done like paying bills loving on the cats, and going to work. So, I was at least functioning physically. Quite strange.

Have you ever gone back to review your writing progress and determined that your word count for the last week has been EXACTLY the same everyday? I kid you, not! Every day since the 3rd the number of words spilling out of my head and into the laptop as been EXACTLY the same!!! The time spent writing varies from day-to-day by anywhere from five to twenty minutes.

So, what gives? Any ideas? Today is the full moon so that can’t be it. The waxing moon is my high energy period of the month. Maybe that plays into it? But, why do I write the same number of words? The scenes have been different in nature and feel. The one constant, which has been so for well beyond the period in question, has been writing have been fun. I like what’s coming out and it seems to be working. The muse is not fussing and the internal editor has gone south to get out of the extreme cold we’ve been dealing with.

Maybe this weirdness is a good thing? Oh, oh. i got an idea for the beaded moccasin scene, gotta go. See you later.

 
14 Comments

Posted by on February 14, 2014 in Other Strangeness

 

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Quick MAVEN Update

03 Feb
Artists concept of the MAVEN Spacecraft - Courtesy of Wikipedia

Artists concept of the MAVEN Spacecraft – Courtesy of Wikipedia

 

Just a quick note for all you space geeks out there.

MAVEN is 23,000,000 miles away and it takes light about 2 minutes to get there from here. 23 MM miles in a little over two months! Rock on MAVEN.

 
8 Comments

Posted by on February 3, 2014 in MAVEN

 

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Careening through Career Changes

02 Feb

9464731-background-concept-wordcloud-illustration-of-career

During a conversation with my Domestic CEO, I counted up how many real jobs I’ve had in my short half century plus of life. It came up to 12, not counting different jobs within the same company. That would add 8 to the total. But let’s stick with the 12 companies.

At the tender age of a baker’s dozen years I got my first paying job. I worked as a gardener for a wealthy couple who were getting long in years. They needed a strong back and a weak mind to help with their award-winning iris garden. The fact that I was only allowed in the irises when one of them was present should have told me something. But, I mowed the lawn and carried compost all summer and was paid for it. How cool was that?

A few years later I spent two summers working at a theme park in the games area. As a lead for Poppa Balloon and Lilly’s Pad, I managed others for the first time (at 16 YOA!). To this day I can recite our call-in’s: “Three balls for twenty-five cents, fifteen for a dollar. All it takes is one ball in to win here at Lilly’s Pad.” Carnival games and those who run them are an interesting lot.

Next came a cookie factory that during WWII turned out millions of crackers for the military. While I was there we made cookies filled with flavored “fig jam”. To this day I cannot eat anything that resembles these cookies. I have stories that would curl your hair.

Somewhere during college on my way to a degree in Professional Biology, I started working on ambulances. In total I worked for four companies, from small farm communities in Iowa to metro Denver, Colorado. I even did a stint as a fire dispatch supervisor.

Then the big career change came and I went from emergency medicine to finance and banking. Now how that happened is a long story! It involves a girl who was in love with a fireman, her father the vice-president of a finance company, and fire dispatch supervisor who wanted to stay married by getting a daytime job. Short version is, who you know is more important than what you know!

So, a finance company, a credit union, and two banks later, I’ve actually come full circle as my current position is in business continuity and disaster recovery. Somewhere during my first banking job, in between writing mortgage loans, I cranked out 33,000 words on an unfinished novel. That was my first real writing. I wrote two editorial pieces that I wanted to send in to the Denver Post, but decided against it as they were pretty harsh. These first few writing attempts were the crack in the dam. The crack has been widening ever since.

Getting back to the original conversation, it dawned on me how varied some of my jobs have been. Every job required me to deal with people one on one. Much of it under stress and extreme conditions. It is the variety that provides grist for the writing mill. It has been an interesting ride so far.

How many jobs have you had? Were they in your field of study? Any unusual ones that have affected you in an unexpected way?

 
23 Comments

Posted by on February 2, 2014 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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Concentration

30 Jan
The Dot is one of the most basic forms of concentration exercise.

The Dot is one of the most basic forms of concentration exercise.

I’m going to take a departure from my usual fare and talk about one of my other passions. No, not fishing. The water is to ‘stiff’ right now for that. Unless you’re one of those people who think sitting on a bucket in -50 degree wind chills looking down at an eight inch hole in the ice waiting for a really stupid fish is fishing, I do not!

Nor, am I going to discuss the nuances of crafting a fine hunting knife from a piece of steel and a few scraps of wood and brass. Though that might be a good topic for a post some other time. Today I want to talk about archery and why I love it so.

I am a traditional archer, which means I shoot a longbows, recurve bows, or primitive (self) bows. I have owned and shot the modern compound bows with wheels and cams and sights and such. But, I found that I like the simple “Stick and String”.

One of my recurve bows.

One of my recurve bows.

It started at a young age. My father would come home from work and even before dinner, the family would go into the back yard and shoot at a paper plate target pinned onto several straw bales stacked upon each other to form a backstop. We would spend hours in the evenings and weekends as a family shooting for fun. I the fall we would go to our vacation property in Wisconsin and bow hunt for the elusive White-tailed deer. Before I was old enough to go out on my own, I would tag along with Mom. Yes, my mother was an avid bowhunter long before it was fashionable for women to do so. She would find a place to stand along a likely deer run and sit me down at the base of a nearby tree to wait. usually, I would fall asleep. In high school, I gave up archery in favor of football and I didn’t take up the bow again until after I was married.

So, why does the ‘mystic flight of the arrow’ compete with my writing and fishing? They actually have a lot in common. The most important commonality is, for me at least, they take concentration. Different forms of concentration to be sure. But still the mind is exercised and stretched. During the ten to fifteen seconds of my archery shot sequence, I can not allow anything other than the shot to enter my mind. During the last few seconds before I release the arrow, there is only the small dot on the target. there is nothing else. only the dot. Where the arrow will ultimately strike. If I allow outside thoughts to enter in, the shot will be off. Once the arrow hits the target, my mind can relax until I am preparing the for next shot.This process of concentrate, relax, concentrate, relax, does a wonderful job of removing stresses of the day, calming the spirit, relaxing the body, and focusing the mind.

Look at the eyes, even after the shot. Concentration!

Look at the eyes, even after the shot. Concentration!

Then there is the satisfaction of watching the flight of a perfectly shot arrow. The unerring, arching path as the colorful feathered fletching rotates the shaft. Smooth arching flight. Over again and again. Each arrow carries with it negativity and stress. The perfectly shot arrow will always make you smile.

 
33 Comments

Posted by on January 30, 2014 in Traditional Archery

 

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The Last Tap Out

27 Jan

9835640-campfire-by-a-calm-forrest-lake-in-the-swedish-wilderness

Those who follow this blog know that a few months ago a friend of mine passed away. He was a strong proponent of the Boy Scouts of America. It is also where we met. Within the Boy Scouts is an honor society with a dramatic selection process. Shortly after hearing of my friend’s passing, The following Short came to me and I thought I would share it.

The bonfire blazed before us, 1,000 strong. We stood in long lines and stared out across the still water of the lake. At the edge of the firelight, a war canoe slid silently toward shore. Four great warriors paddled in perfect rhythm. Their strong shoulders and backs propelled the canoe across the dark water. Another warrior, wearing a headdress made from eagle wing feathers, rode in the center. He stared forward, rigid as an oak tree.

When the canoe came into view, many among the 1,000 shifted on their feet and began to fidget as if the chief was staring directly at them. Some murmured to each other in low voices. I stood still with my Brother, proud and erect. We gave our highest respect and attention to the coming visitor. Together we awaited the arrival of the Great Chief.

The great canoe landed with a soft crunch. The four Warriors jumped from the canoe and pulled it up onto the shore. Then, as smoothly as a fish moves through the current, the Great Chief stood and stepped onto the land. Together, the five visitors moved to the bonfire. Dew claw rattles on their ankles signaled each step. Paint on their faces and arms created stern visages in the firelight. The Great Chief’s arms were folded before him as he took position opposite us on the far side of the fire.

The Warrior to the right of the Great Chief stepped forward.

“SILENCE!”

All movement and sound stopped.

“RESPECT!”

All eyes were on the Warrior as his eyes swept across the 1,000. I dared to look him in the eye as his gaze fell on me and passed on. I reminded myself to breathe.

The Warrior looked at the Great Chief. Though nothing was said and the Great Chief did not move, The Warrior nodded.

The four Warriors broke off. One stood to the side at the far edge of the firelight. The other three moved to the end of the first row. They began to move slowly along the row. The Warriors looked straight ahead and seemed to pay no attention to the 1,000 who stood straight as Lodgepole Pine trees.

Suddenly, two Warriors fell upon one of the 1,000. They grabbed him and quickly pulled him out of line. Their steps were so rapid that the Chosen one was dragged, unable to keep up. The Warriors took the Chosen one to stand before the Great Chief.

The Great Chief unfolded his arms and placed his hands on the Chosen’s shoulders. Their eyes met and a moment past. Then the Great Chief’s right hand raised up and came down hard on the Chosen’s shoulder. The sound of flesh meeting flesh cracked across the firelight. Three times the Great Chief’s hand struck the Chosen. After the third blow, the Great Chief crossed his arms. The two Warriors again, grabbed the Chosen and took him to stand beside the single Warrior at the edge of the firelight. The Warriors returned to the line and continued along until another of the 1,000 was chosen and dragged before the Great Chief. The ritual was repeated as the Warriors worked their way along the lines of the 1,000.

My heart pounded in my ears as the Warriors approached. They stepped in front of me and seemed to hesitate. They turned as one and grabbed my Brother. By reflex I stepped forward to protect him. A glare from one of the Warriors froze me in place. I was knocked aside as they dragged my Brother to stand before the Great Chief. After he was taken to stand with the other Chosen, I waited, expecting the warriors to return and take me.

When they did not, shock and self-doubt swept over me. Was I not worthy? Had I not proven myself throughout my life? Had I broken the code that all humans must live by. I again stood as before and silently called to the Warriors to return and take me to my Brother. Tears formed and rolled down my face. But the Warriors continued to walk along the lines of the 1,000, taking few to be tapped out.

When the Warriors had reached the end of the long lines created by the 1,000, Two returned to stand with the Great Chief. Two stood with the Chosen, now a score strong. The chosen were led off beyond the firelight where they disappeared into the darkness.

Those of us who remained looked to the Great Chief.

A voice, deep and powerful yet gentle sounded in my head.

“It is not your time my son. It will come soon enough. You have much yet to do. Go now and live well, love one another, and be strong.”

My tears stopped and I stood straighter. “Be strong,” I repeated to myself.

The Great Chief and his two Warriors returned to the canoe and paddled into the mists of the lake.

I whispered to the darkness beyond the firelight, “I will see you at the great council fire, Brother. But, not yet.”

By Dennis Langley

 
7 Comments

Posted by on January 27, 2014 in Musings and Odd Thoughts

 

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