NOPE.....Nothings Really Changed Here

I wasn't planning on doing a post today but I happened to stop by my buddys blog Steamboat Slough, just to see if by chance he put out a weekend post. You see, he's one of those non weekender post types, needs to save up his creative juice or something like that. But knowing him as well as I do, he sometimes slips from his routine and just can't help himself. Well, how fortunate are we that this holiday weekend he decides to experiment with his mobile, video device, and creates what we have all come to know as....the travel in your car vlog. You must know in advance that my good friend Phfrankie Bondo has yet to figure out how to get all he wants to say in one post. He usually blogs once a day, but it's sometimes a group of seperate posts, combined to make one statement. Maybe he feels if he gives everyone visiting a whole bunch of chances to comment they will. [I'm sure he'll call me now]
Anyway for a great travel vlog[s] there's two, check him out over there at the slough, in the heart of the delta.

For Two

Such a nice warm day we had. Didn't even light the fire for effect.

After going to Malihini to do the dirty deed, pour anti-freeze into the intake hose after the engine comes up to temperature, I arrived home just in time to enjoy this meal with my lovely bride times two.


This morning wasn't as nice,. When I got to the kitchen window for my cup of Joe I saw a small group of deer coming down into the yard. I called to Bic,"we got deer" she came too and noticed another group coming out of an area just to the left. They all started acting skittish so we thought them meeting up was the cause. Well then another group comes in from the left and we're watching a dozen or more deer running around helter skelter not knowing what to do. In a flash, most of them fly left and a few are kinda dumbstruck and finally take off just as this Pit Bullish look F%CKING dog comes running behind a little skipper. As I've told you all before I love dogs, but my mind in that split second had my SKS raised and aimed at the chest of that hound. In my mind I pulled the trigger. Of course then, I felt like shit.

The Road To ....."Fort Yea"

While hitchhiking the great Northwest on a carefree late spring day, my bud Phfrankie and I along with my dog, The Barn, decided to hitch south and visit Boise, Idaho to look up a friend we new from the San Francisco Bay area. He was none other than the hairy soft spoken man, Delmar Pinkston. While visiting with him, he gathered some friends and off we went for a drive up into the local mountains. He took us on a long loop road that started in the east and wound it's way west through the rough Sawtooth Mt's. As the road turned to dirt Delmar told us that this here road went through some of the most remote parts of these mountains and won't stop or offer any other choices to turn for the next 70 miles. The next dwelling would be 69 miles further on in Horseshoe Bend. We stopped along the way in places of interest and Delmar would continue the history lesson for us, " In the late 1800's all this land was full of miners panning for silver. Apparently a few good veins produced tons of the silver and the area slowly died away as a good source for the precious metal. No doubt, many of the tougher breed stayed on to scratch out a meager living with what they could find." Passing an old rotted out cabin that barely left a footprint at the base of a deep ravine, Delmar, in his slow deep voice said, "you know, some mean tough, dirty son of a bitch, built that cabin." we all agreed, as we imagined that this road we were on once was but a foot path to these mountains. That sure did get Phfrankie and I thinking, hell we got nothing better to do, maybe we could head up one of these ravines and build us our own little cabin, pan for silver and walk in the footsteps of these mean tough dirty sons of bitches. Our minds were wheeling as we passed the small wooden signs naming the various gulches creeks and ravines. Shoemaker Creek, North Deadmans Gulch, South Deadmans Gulch, Redbone Ravine.

While hanging in Delmars living room that night we came up with a plan. Delmar had a 22 pistol and a hand axe with a file to keep it sharp, that he would let us use. Also a large cast iron grill and a dutch oven. We gathered anything we could figure we would need for an extended stay [the summer] and put it in a big wooden chest. We were missing one very important herb, so we like in a flash, hitched back to San Francisco Bay area, gathered more of it, and mountain friendly attire like hunting knifes etc. etc. and got back to Boise in less than a week. After a very exciting night and a trip to the grocery store to load up on tuna fish, rice, pasta, tea and condensed milk, we were ready. Tomorrow, Delmar and friends would load us all up and drive us back out deep into the woods.

A Thanksgiving!

So the next day, at the base of South Deadmans Gulch, Phfrankie, the Barn and I carried 300 lbs of gear and food across Shoemaker Creek, just out of sight of the road and said good bye to our friends. The next 2 months of summer, that we spent in our little cabin, 2 miles up the gulch, with a trip back the following Thanksgiving, in a fresh fallen thigh deep snow, would be another momentous time in my life. No, No, not my life, our life, Phfrankie too! So please now go visit the California Delta..... to hear, the rest of the story! from Phfrankie.

[the bottom pic was taken on that Thanksgiving] blurry and old

Be sure to scroll down all the way on Phfrankie's blog, to read "The Return To Fort Yea"

Had To.....

Went off to get a real start at building that bar this morning but had to run back here and take me one of these. Last week I took it easy and set up a plastic wall, got all my tools there and a hunk of materials ready to go. Cleats on the ceiling and posts up is where I need to start. Tough for the shoulder, going to be another very, take it easy week.

Boatshop

When I made that left turn onto Swain Road in my 1972 green and white Volkswagen Bus, my first thought was, where the hell does this go? It was a paved road with new houses on both sides.... like a real neighborhood way out here on the backside of Barrington, with shrubbery and landscaping. Wow! It sure had been awhile since I'd driven out here. It was about a half mile along I started feeling more comfortable when the road seemed to end and nothing but a rough dirt road was ahead with a big black and white sign stating..... Class IV Road....Travel At Own Risk.... This made me realize it was the old road over Wildcat Mt. that would end up down at Swain Lake, and I knew, this was the way to go!

The road wasn't too bad and after a while the barn was on the right , you couldn't miss it. A very big barn with a big barn door and a giant wooden pole emerging from the center of the big door. I would soon find out that, that pole, was the bowsprit of a 60ft. wood schooner being built here with old woodworking skills, 50 miles from the ocean and on a Class IV road. She was one third complete.....a hull and all deck beams, and that bowsprit, bursting out the doors. When I walked up that long wooden ramp to the door and stepped in, my life took a turn to the sea and would never be the same.

[in the very blurry picture above[sorry] if you click on the picture, you can just make out Jeff pushing a handplane the length of a 45 foot wooden mast.]

The Melting Glass Post

As I posted earlier, Tuesday was Bic and I's 9th anniversary. On the list of things your supposed to get each other, 9th is crockery or pottery I can't remember. Any way Bic and I are very frugal and it takes us years to purchase things that are expensive, to us. Kinda wanted a computer for a few years but never got one till someone gave us one. Digital camera took at least 3 years to finally go out and spend the money. Our new skinny TV, shit that was on our wish list for 4 or 5 years, we'd go look at them but never walk out the store with it because we'd say to each other we don't really need this the other one is still working fine. We both have a very healthy habit of putting things back on the shelf, and saying, don't really "need" it. Now some of you know Bic is quite handy in the stained glass department, she has a very well equipped shop that was the very first refinish work I did on this house was that room so her shop would never get disturbed [lots of glass to move]. Well a kiln has been a part of her want vocabulary since back when we got together again, about 14 years ago. So when on last friday we talked about the upcoming anniversary, I asked what it was this year, so she went and found the old tattered piece of paper and yelled back down the hall to me, pottery or crockery[short term memory problems] I thought NOW is the time, a kiln has crockery or fire brick stone, it's similar right?

Look how pretty this thing is.......

Bark Estate...Living On The Edge

On a rainy, wet, early spring day in Yosemite Valley, less than a mile to the left of that falls you see in that picture, I was with friends exploring up the side of the mountain, well above the valley floor. While hiking through the sandy soil, amongst boulders and large pines carfully picking a path to maneuver through all these obstacles, shrubs , trees and rocks, I came to a spot where a choice had to be made. I could go left around a bolder the size of a house, towering maybe thirty feet above where a friend had just gone before me, obviously the easiest way, or a little more difficult path to the right through a thin gap of waist high rocks and then having to take a large step up onto a flat rock. I chose the harder path to the right, which unbeknownst to me changed my life in a soul-stirring way. If, at this very moment of clamouring through this difficult gap, I chose not to look to my left, for but one second of time, I would have missed a defining period of my life. I saw in that split second a man made dwelling completely dry and self sufficient blending into the mountains, tucked under this huge rock that was once a part of the cliffs above. With walls of bark from a nearby fallen tree, fitted together by a skillfull hand. It would be my home for the next 2 and a half months.

Ooops....Happy Anniversary Babe

Nine years, this time. Forgot to post this yesterday! No, I didn't forget the day, just the post.
.

Red Right Return

Oh buoy! Following road signs without the road, a mariners tale.



Back when Bic and I were getting to our final destination for the winter in the Florida Keys, after months of whiling our way south, through sunny days and not, slowly running out of money, I finally made the number one dumb mistake of going on the wrong side of a buoy. The very last buoy, the one right next to the very last draw bridge we had to get under to anchor our little boat "Caprifol" in our home for the winter, Boot Key Harbor. [For more of my relationship with "Caprifol" visit HERE and click on the pics to read the whole story.] We were on the inside passage going south and the harbor entrance is on the outside, headed north so we had to pass our destination and carry on south till we could get under the Seven Mile Bridge. The end of the day was drawing near and I had not planned the extra time needed to get under the bridge and then all the way back, so we had that little one cylinder Yanmar diesel running full throttle to get us around and to that drawbridge and all settled before dark. Now that drawbridge only opens every half hour and only if there is a boat wanting to get under, so we had to get timing right too. We were just minutes away full tilt boogie through this small channel with red and green buoys showing us the way just before six thirty, we were going to make it, and just before dark. Cruising full tilt boogie towards the bridge we hear the bridge horn and it starts going up, we made it.......a moment of relief, a look of glee, and one more buoy......wwrrooommmoooppphhhhh the boat stops dead in its tracks. Hard aground and the bridge goes slowly back down. The next 45 minutes was a whole other story getting "Caprifol" out of that mud bank. We did manage after it was completely dark so after getting through the bridge totally exhausted and no desire to feel our way through an unknown, unlit anchorage we pulled immediately off the channel and anchored for the night.

A Rolling Stone by Robert W. Service

There's sunshine in the heart of me,
My blood sings in the breeze;
The mountains are a part of me,
I'm fellow to the trees.
My golden youth I'm squandering,
Sun-libertine am I;
A-wandering, a-wandering,
untill the day I die.

I was once, I declare, a Stone-Age man,
And I roomed in the cool of a cave;
I have known, I will swear, in a new life-span,
The fret and the sweat of a slave:
For far over all that folks hold worth,
There lives and there leaps in me
A love of the lowly things of earth,
And a passion to be free.

Thick Fog...Slow As You Go

Last night while looking out towards the front yard light it seemed like a cloud moved across the yard feeling it's way. It looked as though it was creeping along, looking for the easiest path through the trees. Like whisps of a cloud all gathering amongst the trees and shrubs with a plan to settle deeply into the landscape.

Man, are we in the thick of it this morning. Reminds me of when Bic and I were heading south in "Caprifol" to spend the winter in the Florida Keys. We were offshore of Boston heading to the northern entrance of the Cape Cod Canal when a fog like this floated in. We had plenty of sea room and we had already passed the shipping lanes so I was confident to maintain our course and slowly approach blind, knowing we would hear the horn of the entrance buoy. As we got within a few miles we started hearing voices all around us, it was a little weird knowing there were other boats all around us but we couldn't see a thing. As we approached the horn the chatter from the voices in the fog increased and sure enough as we spotted the buoy so too the other sailboats that were all converging at the same slow as you go in the fog pace. After getting in the canal we found that it was four other boats, all coming in at the same time.

The Rules Have Changed

Ahhh. The Prez-elect steps up to the plate with a new kind of bat to play the game. The game is the same but the rules have changed. Here are the strict new ethics rules for the transition team.


Federal Lobbyists cannot contribute financially to the transition.
Federal lobbyists are prohibited from any lobbying during their work with the transition.
If someone has lobbied in the last 12 months, they are prohibited from working in the fields of policy on which they lobbied.
If someone becomes a lobbyist after working on the Transition, they are prohibited from lobbying the Administration for 12 months on matters on which they worked.
A gift ban that is aggressive in reducing the influence of special interests.

anyone play chess?

Who Will Be First?

All these billions of dollars floating around to supposedly help the country out of some ditch that *we* dug. Who dug the ditch? The millionaires dug the ditch. And in the last 10 years, they have been turning themselves into billionaires. Where will it stop?

Visit my other side, Mickymouth for my answer.

Who Am I Kidding?

I'm not quite ready to get back to full time work.

After getting a whole bunch of tools together and a list of materials to start this job, I dropped off some tools and went to the store to get some lumber and plastic to seperate this section of cellar from the rest of the cellar, full pool table room, exercise room, office and two bedrooms. I realize my shoulder is not ready, I've been bad about just healing the thing. Instead, I've been gradually doing little things, at an easy pace, firewood, leave control, etc. while healing. I just could NOT sit on my ass and do NOTHING. So this week I'll continue to do just a little bit every day [maybe] and be very careful. I'm sooo anxious to start this job!

These two top pics are the before pics for this project. That whimpy little bar will be replaced with a mass of mahogany, arches, beams, glass, mirrors....oops, sorry, I think I just creamed my jeans. The fireplace too will be all covered with mahogany panels etc. [notice the model of Endeavor on the mantel, a J-Class sloop of the 1930s, like Shamrock V]

These two lower pics, are my view for the winter. The Tennessee River, in the very, very red state of Tennessee. Actually I think it is the reddest state in the union. Oh Well!

I've Been...................

all week due to a malfunction. Have I missed anything good?

Well this vlog sure uploaded a lot faster after changing the frame per second, but the clarity went down a lot.

Still Falling

For the first time in three years I can walk around this fabulous yard and not be overwhelmed with how many projects still need to done. There are still plenty, but the overall appearance of the place has reached a point where I've stopped saying to myself, "someday it's going to be so beautiful." Now it's just a few things that I'll get to eventually. Content, is a good word.