This just in from Mount Ararat!

Our water situation is getting back to normal. Since our flood, we've had a temporary, leaky repair connecting us to the city water. On Thursday morning I realized that I hadn't checked the little puddle around our water meter for a while. I wandered over to the meter and noticed that the road had had lines painted on it and that the asphalt had been cut. I dashed back into the house to get the camera. By the time I was walking out to take pictures of the progress a city employee had driven up. He told me that they were going to do the repair that day.

Here's the road before it got dug up. Our connection to the water main is under the orange cone.
By the way, the cars in the background are stopping. There are a couple of schools about a mile and a half down the road. Most of these cars are Mommies taking their kids to the schools, one student per car. That's the way I usually go to work. The last time I decided to get in the line of cars that backed up to our neighborhood it took me more than an hour to go that mile and a half. I took another route to work Thursday. It probably wouldn't have taken that long this time. The very slow day was a result of the road being closed at the schools so everybody had to detour past the schools and through Kit Carson Park.

Here's the progress that they made by the time Jerry got home from work Thursday.
They had to replace the pipes for us and two of our neighbors.

They took off our meters and hooked the water directly to our pipes. Free water! Too bad we didn't need to fill our pool that night. Wait, we don't have a pool.They got an early start on their work on Friday morning. As I was driving off to work they had taken up the steel plates from their trench and somebody was working in it. One of my neighbors on the far side of the trench was trying to drive somewhere and couldn't get across the trench. Our public servants didn't think to leave a way for the citizens to get from one side of the trench to the other while they did their work. I'm sure they quickly got our neighbor back on his way.

When we got home they were pretty much done except for repaving the road.

Whenever I see a "Steel Plates Ahead" sign I have a flashback to childhood. For some reason I had a feeling that there was a high likelihood that I had had some long forgotten head injury or disease that needed to be repaired by brain surgery. They probably removed some of my skull and replaced it with a steel plate. Jack got us a metal detector to let us search for lost jewelry in city parks for fun and profit. Finally, I had the ability to find out once and for all whether I had a steel plate in my head! I didn't. (Still don't. Wait! I don't have a metal detector. How do I know?)

Here are the steel plates (but they're not in my head!).

And the boxes with our reinstalled water meters.
I wonder how long it will take to get the road repaired.

(Thanks, Jerry, for taking some of these pictures!)

Leaving Hell

As promised, here's the end of the mythical 1966 family road trip.  I think some of the pictures are in Canada.  We get to see Old Faithful burp a little eruption.  The park ranger said that after such a dud of an eruption the next would happen much sooner than the usual 90 minutes.  But that was too long to wait so we kept moving.  We head south (past the Tetons?).

Herbie, Dave, Ricky, and Carol visit.

Jack goes hunting.  There were bison near Las Vegas?

We see Christmas, 1966, and Easter, 1967.  Karen loves chocolate.  And Doughie.

That is probably my last journey to Easter service.  I think I dropped out of The Church when I was around 12.

The perimeter fence is secured.  Have we really left Hell behind?

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Driving deeper into Hell

We're back from the beach near Portland and get our pictures taken in Aunt Marcella and Uncle Harold's living room. Then we have a fun day at the Portland Zoo. We take a scenic drive up the Columbia River. Then, O Canada! By ferry! Cool! (Wasn't there any scenery in Washington?)

Now we're roughing it. I guess this is where Hell really kicked in. We take a balogna stop (but they look like hamburgers to me). Then it looks like the slides got dropped on the floor. We're in Yellowstone for a while then back to the ferry. I've made no attempt to get them back in order.

Be glad you survived to tell the tale.

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(Only 22 more pictures of this trip. Then we'll go back to enjoying the darling Karen!)

We're all going to hell!

And now for the moment you've been waiting for! The Family Vacation From Hell!

But first, Christmas, 1964, a visit from the Murphys, a trip to Emporia, Christmas, 1965, and a trip to Ohio. The trip to Ohio has no pictures of people. There are pictures of some of our ancestors' headstones in David's Cemetery. I didn't know our grandfather was a Mason. Who are the others?

Then we start our June, 1966, trip of the west. From the pictures (there are 172 of them, 50 in this set), the trip doesn't appear to be that miserable. Coming in the next set are four or five pictures in a campground that probably contain some misery. The rest are pictures of nice scenery (though usually taken from a moving carryall) or visits with relatives (which can be miserable).

I was disappointed that little Doughie doesn't show up until we've left Portland. I wanted to see her as a tiny puppy and I was hoping to see her albino littermate. Oh, well. She doesn't show up much. I guess it's a case of been-there-done-that. We had a flood of Poughie pictures then almost nothing of Doughie.

Let's go to hell!

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(Sorry that I'm already going against my desire to reduce the torture content of my blog. I'm not posting all three carousels with our infamous trip all at once. You don't want to overdose. They'll come a set each day for the next few days. Those of you who don't care about family snapshots might want to go outside for a smoke till we get this phase of our lives out of the way.)

Turtle Tchotchke Tuesday

"Green Corn Sweater"

  A present from Bobbie.  It came with this card:

I became a man 40 years ago today

This note is in the box of memories Mom kept for me:

I have an odd notion of what happens when a man notices that his son has started growing some facial hair. First, it would be a moment that fills the father with a feeling of accomplishment, of transition, of pride ("My boy is becoming a man!").

The father would then load the son into the jeep and drive to the drug store where they would look over the shaving equipment. The father would point out the different kinds of razors with double-edge blades or single-edge injector blades. Maybe the father would even suggest an electric shaver, or, better, steer the kid away from ever using such a device. Then they'd consider the shaving creams. The father might explain why he prefers foam, gel, or maybe even soap and a brush.

Then the father and son would take the supplies home where the father would demonstrate good shaving technique. "Shave in the direction of the hairs' growth" (but then a kid with a little peach fuzz can't really see what direction the fuzz is growing...it's just growing out). Maybe the father would give advice about how to deal with nicks.

And, if the father is bold, he might even take this opportunity to explain what is going on in the boy's body that is causing hair to grow in new places and, if he's really, really bold, he might even use the event as an excuse for the dreaded, full-fledged birds and bees chat.

But that's not how life is.

What really happens is the father says "Beth, show your brother how to shave."

Beth showed her brother a razor that was in the bathroom. It was designed, at least marketed, to be for a woman's legs. And a bar of soap. Jack used an electric shaver so there were no real shaving supplies on hand. I don't know if Beth actually supervised any actual shaving that day.

For years shaving was an awkward, even shameful, activity. Nicks were especially scary. They gave the world proof that I had engaged in that ungodly behavior. I think Jack sensed my shame and enjoyed pointing out that I had nicked myself.

I don't know how long I used that ladies' razor. I don't know who else might have been using it at the time. Sometime, somebody gave me a little travel razor. It was in a tiny zippered case. Its tiny handle screwed onto the head that held a double-edge blade. That thing was a godsend. I finally had my own razor! And it was small enough that I could sneak it into the bathroom where I had it perform its shameful duty. I wonder where it came from.

But you know what? I know where it is! In my box of treasures! My happy little razor:

I eventually figured out shaving on my own. And I even got over the shame.

The birds and bees chat never happened.

It was a day of operatic proportions

Yesterday was a day of opera.

We got up, ate breakfast (steel cut oats), had coffee, and drove to Mira Mesa to see the Met's HD telecast of Mark Morris's production of Gluck's "Orfeo ed Euridice". I love baroque opera! And this didn't disappoint me. Sometimes, the camera work annoyed me. Especially when they did close-ups of the dancers' feet when I thought that seeing all of the dancers would have been more appropriate.

The singing an music were wonderful. And it was fun (though sometimes distracting) to pick out the historical figures that made up the chorus. Who would have expected ever to see Jimi Hendrix singing at the Met?

Jerry doesn't like park and bark so it was an almost agonizing hour and a half for him.

Then came the curtain calls. Mark Morris took a bow. He should not raise his arms in exultation unless he has either tucked his shirt firmly into his pants or is wearing his muumuu. That belly is not attractive.

We then went to lunch and home. I did two loads of laundry.

Then we got back in the car and headed south again. We stopped at Starbucks on the way down because we didn't think of making our evening coffee at home before we left. We had supper at El Indio (am I making you jealous?) then went to San Diego's Civic Theater to see the opening night of San Diego Opera's 2009 season.

We saw Puccini's "Tosca." This time Jerry was more satisfied than I was. We decided that we'd get better seats this year. We had been in the balcony for many years. Now we're sitting in the Dress Circle. So we got a better view of the stage. I don't know if the sound goes up to the balcony better than the back of our new section. Things sounded muffled to me. I don't know if the singers weren't as powerful as they needed to be or if the downstairs just sucks up the sound.

The big close of Act I, the Te Deum, wasn't big. The chorus was crammed into a small space behind the altar so we couldn't really see much of them and their sound was muffled even more by the scenery that was between them and us. And Scarpia's declaration that Tosca makes him forget God sounded to me more like a simple comment than a major bit of blasphemy.

At the end of Act II Tosca flopped Scarpia's body onto his back to get to the safe passage document and keys and she left. No candles around his body. She just left. Dull.

Tosca's telling Scarpia that they'll meet before God at the end of Act III again came off as a minor comment. She did make a nice leap to her death.

Maybe the Dress Circle isn't the place to listen to the opera. But the view of the stage is much nicer.

It was a lotta opera. We have another double bill later this year.

More of Karen. And Pough.

As the title of this post says, here are pictures of Karen and Pough. A handful of pictures feature others.

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Turtle Tchotchke Tuesday

A bronze sculpture.

(Happy Inauguration Day!)

Fuzzy end of a road trip and a new family member

We finally reach the end of our 1964 road trip. We see Sutter's Mill, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, Nevada and Utah. Most of these pictures, except most of San Francisco, are from Jack's point of view from the driver's seat of the car. The moving car. As a result, much of this part of the trip is a washed out blur. You can skip a lot of these pictures.

The San Francisco segment is in the order they are in the carousel. The pictures had been arranged thematically. We go from under the Golden Gate Bridge to driving across it then back under it.

When we got home Jack took some pictures of the family. Such a pretty family!

Then we get a puppy! Such a cute puppy!

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Spending Jack's money

Yesterday, Jerry and I took a little trip to Palm Desert and Palm Springs to shop for art and to continue Jerry's birthday celebration. We spent most of the day tramping up and down El Paseo in Palm Desert. After going through almost all of the galleries on the street (skipping some whose windows had only pieces that aren't our style) and having the traditional lunch at Sammy's Woodfired Pizza, we went back to a couple of galleries and picked up some new works.

We got two gourd masks by Dave Sisk at Adagio Galleries.

Sun Dancer

(I wonder why the light green wall it's on has turned to gray in this picture.)

Espino

(Again, this wall is light yellow. Maybe some more of Jack's money should go to a fancier camera.)

Close-up of "Espino"

We really like these and Jerry can always be counted on to find the right place to put them.

Jerry will have to tell you about any other art we acquired.

Does anybody know who or what "Espino" is?

Here we go again!

The mailman left me a nice little surprise today...a questionnaire to see if I am qualified for federal jury service! I am. So it looks like I'm in for another round of civic duty.

Last time I was a candidate to be a juror in federal court I went through the voir dire process for a case where a woman working at the San Onofre nuclear power plant developed a form of leukemia whose only well-described risk factor is exposure to ionizing radiation. The power plant apparently had a problem with "fuel fleas" making their way into the workers' area where the woman was supposed to have breathed them in and caused the leukemia.

I was the first potential juror to be thanked and excused from the case. The judge said as I was leaving that it was my shirt. I was wearing a pink polo shirt that day. I wore my pink polo shirt to my first day of jury duty last year but it wasn't till the second day that I got called into the jury box. I couldn't wear the same shirt two days in a row so my unlucky shirt couldn't help me that time. I'll try it again this time.

The fuel flea case was settled before the jurors got their chance to decide it and the settlement wasn't made public. According to this account of a similar suit, that was the second time the case was going to be tried and was settled before the trial was started.

At least the federal court is in downtown San Diego where there are things to do during the long lunch recesses. And they pay better and they cover parking. (They did last time. I hope they still do.) More fun is in store.

Mac and Cheese! And Brownies!

Today was another Mac-n-Cheese day! Happy Birthday, Jerry!

Delicious dinner (hot from the oven and still bubbling):
This is from the same recipe as last year's birthday dinner but the actual recipe is included in today's picture for your dining pleasure. The brownies were from Bunny's birthday by way of Marcy's. Three birthdays for the calories of one!

The recipe calls for 8 oz. of macaroni. So, when I was assembling the ingredients, I grated 8 oz. of cheese. Oops! It was the cheesiest (but I did leave a couple of those ozzes out). Yum!

Tomorrow we continue our celebration with a trip to Palm Desert. El Paseo, here we come!

No mooching for now

Last month I wondered if we were related to one of the singers in a band that was going to the Colgate Country Showdown in the hopes that we could mooch off of him when he becomes rich and famous. The contest was yesterday.

It doesn't much matter if we're related. A Floridian won.

But then runners up on American Idol often do better than the winners (so I've heard)!

I've been Blogging for a year!

It was a year ago I took Colleen's suggestion that I start a blog featuring my gadgets and cooking skills. It's been a fun hobby. Then the idea spread to the whole family (more fun yet!). If this were Amway, Colleen would be rolling in the dough (and I'd get my cut, too). But it's not...sorry Colleen!

Lately, I haven't been posting much and too many of the posts I have made have had a terribly limited audience. Making captive audiences watch slide shows of family holidays is probably one of the techniques used in Gitmo to extract information. I hope our pictures haven't been used there by the Evil Empire our current administration.

I'll continue with the family photos but I need to dilute the torture content of my blog. I need to post more of own my experiences. But things to write about haven't been occurring to me. Recently, one of the quotes of the day on my iGoogle page was from Jack London: "You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." I've been depending on inspiration striking and that just hasn't been happening. I will have to change my approach.

I'm setting out with my club. Wish me luck.

Turtle Tchotchke Tuesday

An ottoman.

Flood update

Be sure to read the previous post first.

Before they could dig to find the valve from the water main, they had to get all the utilities that might have things buried to give their OK. So they had to wait for the gas and electric company and the cable company people mark where their pipes and wires are buried in the area.

For some reason the gas and electric company hooked a contraption to our gas meter that beeps.

The cable company person said all their wires are overhead and took off.

They shut off our water.

Then they had to clear the water out of their way. That involved sweeping it downstream, over the neighbor's driveway. Between the street and her concrete driveway was filled with rocks to make the approach from the street a little smoother. All those rocks got dug away to let the water get past.

Jerry said that they were working on the broken pipe.

I hope the water is back on by the time we get home from the Smothers Brothers' show.

The length of the ark shall be three hundred cubits...

Jerry and I went to La Mesa today to have lunch with his mother and her neighbor, Mary. I explained to Mary as we went into the Olive Garden that Jack's investment strategy was that if he liked a company's product he bought shares of the company. He owned a lot of the Olive Garden (and Red Lobster and whatever else Darden Restaurants owns).

Anyway, that's not really part of the story except that we were away from home for about five hours. When we were pulling into the driveway Jerry wondered why the front yard was flooded.

This is the view of our flood from in front of the driveway.
And from in front of the neighbor's driveway.

And from the end of the street.
Jerry called the city and left a message on their answering machine. Then he called the Water Conservation Hotline. That call got forwarded to the police department's dispatcher who got the message to the water department. Somebody came and determined that the break was on the city's side of the meter (whew!).

They're going to come back and dig up the street to find the shut-off valve from the water main. I wonder how many of our neighbors will be without water and for how long. Darkness is upon us so I don't know how many pictures of work in progress I'll be able to take.

We've got buckets of water ready to use to flush the toilets and fresh water drawn.

I tried to get a wrench on the shut-off valve at the meter but decided that the break was on the pipe before it got to the valve so that wouldn't do any good. On the way through the lake I would sometimes sink quite a way. The poor gophers...I hope they've all drowned.

Summer trip to California continues

Here is another round of pictures. My new printer/copier/scanner is much faster than the old scanner so I can whip these out much faster. (Sorry to all of you bored people out there who don't get to have these pictures trigger reminiscences. But you really shouldn't be sorry.)

We finish Knott's Berry Farm then go to The Happiest Place on Earth. Did Jack lower the happiness factor or did we have nonstop fun? We hit the beach! Then it's off to Sacramento.

The thing I remember most about Sacramento was Floyd's garage door. It was the kind that rolls up rather than a solid door that swings up. That fascinated me. I made plans in my little head to disassemble it and rearrange the pieces of the track and make it into a roller coaster (I guess the Matterhorn was still on my mind). I don't think that there was enough track to do that. And our little butts would have gotten pinched rather badly as the sections of the door moved back and forth.

Izzy was astonished that three adults and five kids could survive a road trip in a '55 Chevy. Grandma doesn't show up in pictures before or after the Claremont stop so I'm guessing that she was already there. Still, only two adults and five kids in a sedan does sound crowded. Was Candy gone?

P-Doobie is right about Jack not stopping to take pictures from the car. The last two pictures look like the car was moving...the foreground is a blur in those pictures. Life is too short to stop and stretch legs once in a while. (Please tell me that he had one of the passengers take those pictures!)

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When I was living in Los Angeles in 1976 I went to Disneyland many times. I was looking forward to riding in a flying saucer all by myself. In 1964 Bobbie and I were too light to ride them alone so we had to weigh one down together. Imagine my disappointment when I got there and there were no flying saucers! It was not a Happy Place that day.

Hitting the road

Here are another three months of our lives.  Karen is featured, of course.

Jack seems to have made a trip to Dayton then we made a road trip to California.  Knott's Berry Farm, here we come!

I can't think of a lot to say about these so, without further ado, here's Spring, 1964!

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Turtle Tchotchke Tuesday

Sculptures by Elwood Martin Reynolds (died 2005).

Troubles brewing!

The last few weeks of 2008 brought me some distress in the coffee department. And distress regarding coffee is, to paraphrase Martha, a bad thing.

The roasting chamber of my coffee roaster had developed a crack near its top. It had done this before. The crack slowly grew but it didn't break apart. I didn't want to put any stress on the crack so I didn't wash the pot for a long time. Finally I couldn't see into the pot so I broke down and washed it. The next time I roasted it broke.
I'm guessing a bit of water got into the crack and expanded while roasting and blew the crack apart. As I said, this had happened before. When it did I bought a second roasting chamber before the first one's crack finally gave way. The replacement gave me grief. The lid didn't fit well and took a lot of effort to get it to go on. That made roasting a chore. So I bought a yet another pot. So I had an emergency backup pot on hand. With a Phillips #1 screwdriver I was able to adjust the backup pot so the lid goes on easily. And life went back to normal.

(It turns out that I have yet another backup roasting chamber. My first coffee roaster died with a terrible screech last year so I bought a new roaster. It, of course, came with its own roasting chamber.)

The last week or two gave me something new to worry about. The handle of the portafilter, the thing that holds the coffee grounds for an espresso maker, developed a worrisome jiggle. When I'd put the portafilter into Silvia's group head the handle seemed to go a bit further than the filter. Yesterday I went to Whole Latte Love's web site to order a replacement but then got involved in other chores. (Hey, their 10% off sale goes through tomorrow!)

But that was too late anyway. Last night while making our New Year's Eve party's coffees the handle came off.
And life got complicated.

Fortunately, I'm a guy. Guys can fix things. Guys got duct tape. Well, duct tape wouldn't hold a portafilter's handle on. But guys also have Vise Grip locking pliers.

The pliers hold real good!
They'll work just fine till a replacement portafilter comes.

And life went back to normal.

By the way, while we're on the subject of coffee, here's a picture of what occasionally shows up in Silvia's drip tray. The iridescent film is so pretty.