turning 30 and other thoughts

Yumie is turning 30 this September. M2 (mom two), as I am referred to, is happy to report that she has landed a full time position, in her field. I haven't had many chances in my life (less than a week away from getting my senior national park pass) to boast of children's accomplishments. We have had some good ratters in our household, something that does have some benefits, but we have lived through many of our friends listings of their children's accomplishments with patient ears. So this is my turn. Congratulations, I say.
And oh, turning 30, I vaguely remember that. I think that is when my knees started to go.

 Vern was a good ratter

Now more than a month into the summer, the Leo birthdays have become, and the time seems to speed up. My blogging has slowed down, not for lack of subjects, but the inability to get them, as we used to say, down on paper.
Perhaps a listing of topics might work. I have subjects from the last two trips we took, and a trip to the Exploratorium with my 7 year niece that could be blogged. And then there always is the piano shop, which is currently bursting with pianos. But since this blogging business is supposed to be fun, I will just let the summer pass, almost unreported until my computer, words, and time all merge.

attention to detail

 

There are many aspects of my job that are boring and tedious. And then there are aspects that are tedious but satisfying. The above job was satisfying. I have discovered the screw grabber. Saves the fingers when using the wire wheel. Also keeps the tiniest screws from flying across the room into secret hiding places never to be seen again.

solstice

 

A sign of summer, my orange dragon flies have returned to the garden. 

made with love

I have made the same pie crust recipe for years. It is from my Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. You would think after all these years I would have the recipe in my head. And perhaps I do. But I enjoy opening the worn pages with the stains from many pies. And just perhaps I like to look at the inscription that my mother wrote when she gave me the cookbook.

how to post that hard to sell item on Ebay

 I am not making this up, a real posting from Mike's Sunday morning perusal of Ebay.

Overseas buyers please not that I do not ship via first class mail if you pay with paypal. UK buyers please contact me regarding alternative payment methods.

I accept returns however I will not renegotiate a new price, if you are unhappy with the item return it for a refund. Ask as many questions as you like before the end of the auction, thanks! :-)
Warning-Due to the Graphic nature of this story tender sensibilities may be offended. If you feel you may be in this group I suggest you read a different description.
Buddy,Can You Lend a Hand? #1
Paddy Kayk was the product of a marriage between a cargo steamer Captain Seamus Kayk and a young Chinese girl May Wong. The Captain plied the smaller ports along the Chinese coast delivering Irish linens and foodstuffs to the small expatriate communities scattered around the eastern edge of the vast land. The girl was alone in the world as her parents died in a house fire just a day before the rusty ship coughed and spluttered its way into port. She was sixteen, bedraggled and blackened by soot when Seamus set his eyes upon her.
It was an unsaid part of his job description to collect news to pass it on to the next little community down the way and being a man to enrich and embelish with a masterly choice of illustrative word, Seamus was greeted warmly wherever he went and would hold his news briefs in local tea houses surrounded by locals and expats alike with rapt attention.

May Wong sat in the corner lost in her misery but as Seamus regaled his audience with the goings on in the other towns she found herself drawn into his world and soon she forgot her own. At the conclusion of the evening she knew that this was a man she wanted to be with, Seamus having a fine and practiced eye for the fairer sex wasted no time in introducing himself. May had a difficult time understanding her language being spoken by a white man with a strong Irish accent but she managed to understand enough for the spell Seamus cast to take effect. At weeks end they were married and she left the small village by the sea never to return.

War had broken out and Seamus found himself in Los Angeles at the time stocking up on supplies. A trip home over the Atlantic was becoming a very risky proposition with the U-boats prowling so he decided to spend the war in California building fighter plane wing sections. Besides, he now had an extra mouth to feed, a wee lad called Paddy.

The years passed, speeding into decades and it became clear to everyone that Paddy had his Fathers wit and his Mothers delicate touch and eye for composition. When he wasn't in the kitchen baking he was toting an 8x10 Deardorff around Chinatown taking beautiful pictures of the people and streets. With some cash saved over the years Paddy opened a small bakery and lived above it. With his personality it became a local highlight, Paddy Kayk was renowned for making cakes of light texture and delicate flavour very quickly, It was said he could make, bake and ice a cake in fifteen minutes. So you can understand that it came as a great shock to this thriving little community when the bakery unexpectedly closed a few days. ...Neighbours knocked on his door and after several hours decided that something was terribly wrong, they broke down the door to find Paddy...dead.

It wasn't pretty, Paddy was slumped in a chair, a long stump hung limp where his right arm used to be, from the dried pools and splatters everywhere it was obvious that he had died from the great loss of blood. Curiously though...the room contained no arm. His camera stood in the corner on its tripod without any lenses, his wallet was still in his pocket. Robbery was obviously not a motive. Gang warfare was the verdict though close friends swore he had nothing to do with any illegal or immoral practices. They say time heals all wounds and there are probably few people who can remember Paddy now, except his good friends who still miss him.

The building that was once a bakery changed over to a bookstore then an antique shop, Fongs.

The upstairs rooms that housed Paddy were in sore need of refurbishment after fifty years of rental abuse. The new landlord called in his handyman John to replace the floor and spruce the place up. After removing the old mats and yellowed newspapers John swept the floor in preparation of replacement. He noticed one edge of a floorboard had a copper button, he hit it with his heel and the board shot up in a flash. The stout board halted just inches from his face, after a few seconds he looked into the secret compartment and almost fainted when he saw....

 

(actual crime scene photograph)

The mystery of Paddy's arm was over, there was no gang connection it was an accidental death resulting from Paddys love of his lenses, the ones that no-one could find all those years ago. After his mother was notified(Seamus had long since passed away) she called me as she wanted nothing to do with the lenses, the cause as she saw it of poor Paddys death. And with that the lenses that have remained in a secret compartment now come to the open market for all in the world to see.

preparing to leave the island

This week brought lenticular clouds to the naval air station, a hint of rain, and a reminder of the mountains and an upcoming trip. Time to finish up the projects from the last trip, check notes, and get ready to leave the island.

So the day was spent organizing. I organize linens and bedding (i.e. sleeping bags and air mattresses), cooking and eating gear, and our green box (the keeper of staples and then some). Mike makes sure the stove and lanterns work, that we have enough tarps, rope, and, of course, the tent.
Equally important is the organization of my yarn and reading material. And a repair of the failed repair of my ancient chair. I found my writing notebook and realized I never blogged any of the material I carefully wrote  from the April trip. Alas, the thoughts will have to be stored away for the future.
We start our preparations early, we don't leave for a week and half, but this gives us time to think of all of things forgotten. And then there is the food. And the checking of the weather forecasts to see how much hot soup might be needed. These late spring trips can bring weather surprises, we have had snow, and we have gotten sunburn. Makes for interesting times.

sad day on the water

We watched "Big Red", as it has been referred, sail out this morning on what has become it's last journey. A report from the person we refer to as "the spy" was it was to be it's last run before the new second hull goes in the water. The second hull has the capability to foil, lifting it out of the water and producing greater speed. Speed, being the ultimate quest. Artemis has been a major source of entertainment for all of us on Seaplane Lagoon. They have become our home team, members of their staff have been in our shop. We've followed their movements. Noticed all their comings and goings. We have all gotten so used to the size of the AC72s that the AC45s now look small to us. And while it is a stretch to justify the expense of this whole campaign, they are truly beautiful to watch as they harness the power of the wind. But natural forces are strong, and perhaps even too strong for Artemis, the goddess of the hunt.