Just 'stuff'....

(click on pics to enlarge)

Gotten into a pattern of a handful of days in the mountains and then pulling fill in weather shifts at my former station. Just enough to keep me out of a rhythm, which is making me a bit on the cranky side. ;-) While it has recently warmed nicely, it had heretorfore been a snowy winter fraught with travel woes for me, and now this week dealing with a cold of sorts. I jokingly say I wish I could get the flu to help me jumpstart a weight loss program, but gotta be careful what you wish for, eh?

1-15-11

So while I'm back in Charlotte as I write this, I did manage to get some flutes going earlier this week, and below are pics of two from unique woods. I've had this slab of Cinammon Burl for several years, and this is the first flute cut from it. I also have a G4 that is close behind it. Super lightweight and cuts/sands like butter.

Cinnamon Burl (Redwood) B4

(only oiled, no finish yet)

The Box Elder was a scrap of crotch lumber I got locally. Where a tree forks into secondary trunks, that juncture (the crotch) usually yields highly figured woods. Box Elder comes in a 'flame' variety that is chock full of the red flames you see at the foot of this flute, which I'd like to order some day. This scrap piece I picked up yielded only this flute, however.

Box Elder crotch B4

(only oiled, no finish yet)

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'Twas interesting watching Jeopardy this week, as IBM's "Watson" took on a pair of 2-legged champions. And so the news bits flew about, and after the two-night special, out came allegations that Watson had a technological advantage over the remotes humans used to ring in answers, yaddah, yaddah. I could care less. As I watched station after station report on the shows, from local to national, NOT ONE mentioned what to me was the most glaring of news stories: Watson screwed up royally on "Final Jeopardy". Royally.

The question asked which U.S. city had it's main airport named for a WWII hero, and its secondary airport after a famous WWII battle. Both humans correctly guessed "Chicago" but Watson was quite unsure of it's answer, and went with "Toronto".

Toronto.

You've GOT to be kidding me. Here is this phenomenal sophisticated ma

chine with 10 massive computer structures feeding it a gazillion bits of data in the blink of an eye....and it doesn't even come up with a U.S. city. Ooops!

Helluva glitch, if you ask me. But no one mentioned it on the news. Go figure.

---------------------------------------------

Back in early December I had just finished dinner with my parents in rural Polk County. Ive driven that country road more times than I can remember, but that night is a bit hard to forget. There on a 2-lane highway in the middle of nowhere, no houses, no lights, no road shoulders, a large Whitetail deer literally torpedoed my car. It had to have been at a full run, hitting me broadside at the passenger side front quarter panel.

No doubt the deer lost out on that one. How my side view mirror didn't get broken I'll never know, but he sure did a lot of damage down the car. Luckily no glass was broken, and everything is fine in the cabin....more importantly, it passes inspection.

You can correctly guess the car was 'totaled' by the insurance company given the Subie's 20-year old depreciation, so I now have the pleasure of driving around a 'salvage' vehicle that I can carry only liability on. Classy, eh?

Only one more thing I need to do....go get some outdoor decal materials and cut out "OH, DEER!..." and strategically place it toward the front of the front door.

A profound thought...

Getting back into the swing of daily writing is not coming easily...the ideas are in the head, but the daily distractions and instant-excuses for procrastination pudding have been winning out more than not. Just finishing up a long run of weather shifts at my former station, on my former shift. When in my 30's, going to sleep at 6pm and getting up at 1230am for work was something I got used to, the weird shift and hours. No more is that the case. Eegads, but that just messes with the body clock, energy levels, and everything else 'living'.

My flute work is as much spiritual as it is artistic as it is musical. Just about any flute maker (and I'm sure instrument maker, period) will at some point talk about how the wood talks to you....each piece of wood has its own Spirit and voice, and no two are quite alike. They aren't always A-listers when finished, but they are unique, nonetheless.

I recently went and spoke to a group at Cooper Riis in Polk County about my Journey with The Flute. I had my two pups in tow out of necessity, and arrived early as is my custom. In walking the three of us around one large field, I picked up an old stick that had fallen beneath a tree, just a little 8" piece that was well on it's way into the rotting process. Into my pocket it went.

After situating the pups in the car and fluffing their quilts and lowering windows, I grabbed my "bucket o' flutes" and headed inside. After introductions, I was turned loose to wander down my extemporaneous mental footpath, bouncing from topic to topic as I do when I get excited...and I always do with my flutes.

Along the winding presentation road, I discussed my branch flutes and how I look for fallen branches with certain dimensions and craft them into Singing Sticks.

I pulled the old stick out of my pocket. I looked at it and turned it over, asking the attendees what they thought about it. It was dead, rotting, too small and crumbly for a flute, and something any and everyone would walk right over and never notice.

Sometimes the most profound thoughts are the simplest.

You've heard it said that we never "die" but "transform" levels of energy and existence. Oh, our bodies give up the ghost, literally and figuratively, but the Soul lives on. And it matters not what side of the religious fence you favor, it's all Source, as Wayne Dyer calls it. Our social conventions have taught us to label and judge things as "dead" or "alive", "good" or "bad", "right" or "wrong", and the like. Many blindly assume that to be Truth and never question it.

The Periodic Table of Elements came to mind, the source of many a young scientist's early hurdle to grasp. EVERYthing is made up of elements, be it in pure form or in compounds. At the base is the atom, with a nucleus of protons and neutrons. About that swirls a field of electrons, each combination of those three making an element unique, identifiable. Just a chapter in The Cliff Notes version of Life, of course. And don't forget the three basic states of solids, liquids, and gasses....from virtually nil to helter skelter aplenty, the space for electrons to 'do their thing' varies, BUT....they still "do their thing". Always and all ways.

Call it God, Creator, The Great Mystery, Yaweh...and maybe some don't call it anything at all...SOMEthing, some force, has created/orchestrated this incessant atomic energy and motion. It's part of Life's magic.

No way in hell that stick could EVER be dead. The tree is no longer taking up water and undergoing photosynthesis, so in that semantic sense it's "dead"; but that rotting stick still contains those whirring electron fields...and is very much 'alive' in that sense. The atoms continue to 'be' exactly what they've always been. The sheer joy and humbling wonderment for me is to take wood and create an alternate energy and lifeform in the form of music and aesthetic beauty.
'
Life never ends...like matter, it only transforms. Everything is "alive" when you stop and think about it, possessing Life's Essence, Source, whatever you want to call it...or Her...or Him. Native Americans would tell you to listen to ALL the world around you. The Grandfather Rocks possess the knowledge of the earth's history, and to sit with the rocks and truly 'listen' can help you find your Truths and answers. Water is the giver of life on many levels. When natives took something from the wild, they would offer tobacco as an offering, honoring the Spirit that abides in not only that which was taken but the community from which it came. They knew and understood fully that the Great Mystery was in all things.

Perception.

A Cherokee elder held up a cigarette and asked me one time if there was anything sacred about it. I immediately thought of all the cancers and deaths that 'invention' had caused and continues to cause, and my disdain for the 'coffin nail' showed through easily. He quietly split the paper and poured the tobacco into his hand and repeated his question. In a quiet instant, what had only moments ago been a negative symbol, became a prayerful and respectful offering.

Sometimes the most simple things can be the most empowering.

"That's a lot of bull..."

Elk, that is. Bull Elk. Dug these pics up from last fall when I journeyed near the Cades Cove ranger station in the Great Smokies National Park, not far from home. The re-population of the elk herds into the Smokies is quite the success story...this, a regal animal that was indigenous to the region before being wiped out by early settlers early on, along with habitat destruction. Estimates are the last of the elk disappeared in the late 1700s.

In 2001, 25 elk were brought in from another national park to start the program, with another 27 brought in the following year. To date, the population is estimated to be over 130 (actually, I could not find a recent, solid estimate online, but the herds are doing well).

All adults have huge leather collars with sending units on them, much like the invisible fence collars for dogs, as well as large yellow, numbered tags on each ear for identification (god forbid to be a fashion plate). For the sake of 'what if', I had a good friend proficient with photoshop remove said accoutrements from these photos. (Thanks, Ann!)

This is bull elk #16, one of threel dominant bulls in this particular herd. I was remiss that I did not have my camcorder or other recording device to capture the bugling calls, as they would (will) make excellent background tracks for my flute music. High on my list to capture once the tundra-conditions exit stage left!

It was a gorgeous sunny morning, and not too much in the way of tourist traffic. One has to go out of their way to even have a chance of finding the herd so gathered, and a good telephoto lens is a must. There are always those foolish ones that must think a) they're God's gift to nature photographers and inappropriately approach the elk, illegally, or b) they simply don't think, period. Thankfully, I saw no egregious transgressors.

The young 'uns are so cute, donned in dots and gangly legs trying to keep pace their bodies. At least 25 births were recorded in 2010, and of those 17 were successfully tracked and all 17 survived...a great testament to the continued perseverance of those involved with the reintroduction program, started back 10 years ago this year.

For the 'neat'ness of this success story is a flip-side issue for many national parks: leaving the property. Be it these elk crossing out into corn fields and taking down cow pasture fences, to the bison that wander out of Yellowstone and face a sadly unfriendly reception in Montana, fearful of brucellosis, mad cow disease, etc. That's another can of worms for another day...

Still having some real issues with Blogger...not sure why, either. Pics should enlarge when you click on them, but they don't, and there continue to be myriad settings that don't 'take' when I apply them. Bear with me as I figure it all out...or not!

"Once upon a time..."

(NOTE: having some editing issues as blogger formats have changed...can't get pics to enlarge when you click on them, so bear with me a few days as I sift through the details...)

Long time no write, eh? Long time no get dead motherboard repaired was what it was. Been researching where Money Trees grow, but have had little success. Actually, that should be 'no success'. Been limping along on an old Dell laptop with a Pentium 4 chip...not quite the "8-track" of chipsets, but multi-tasking and overall speed was a bit lacking. While I could have blogged long before now, suffice it to say 2010 went down as one of those years I was happy to see come to a close. Like my art and flutes, if I'm not inspired to do something, might as well hang it up.

Alas, I finally found two nickels to rub together, and had the laptop motherboard repaired (video chipset issues). At the moment, it's working fine, but it was not returned that way...another story for another day. Maybe it's own chapter in my book I stopped working on, come to think about it.

So, whereinthehell do I pick up and begin? How about "ENOUGH ALREADY WITH THE SNOW!!!" ?

Molly, who LOVES all the snow....

Last winter was a doozy for snow hyar in these hills, and in October I pulled the long-range winter forecasts f

or my homeowners group for this winter....'above average' in temps, and 'below average' in precipitation. Those maps could not be farther off the mark, and they are maps I've never put a lot of stock in, anyway. December was one of the coldest on record, and if you don't believe me just pay my fuel and electric bills.

The White Christmas was really neat, and it being my birthday was the 11" icing on the deck. Since Christmas Day I've had 34" of snow. Now you get a glimpse of my disdain for that 4-letter "S" word.

11.2" Christmas Snow 2010

It would be nice if temperatures would get out of the freezer stage, but that hasn't been the case. Having to sled su

pplies to the house is getting old, and I absolutely have to get a 4x4 vehicle, one way or another. See first paragraph above. My biggest problem was that for the last snow (10"+) I'd taken a few days of work at News 14 to help with their weather forecasts for the Triad. I've come to understand fully it is better to get snowed 'in' than snowed 'out', which is exactly what happened.

While I do have chains for my front wheel drive wagon, I was coming up last Wednesday and, in a thick super-slushy patch, lost tire grip, and I spun the wheels. FYI, chains do not cotton to being spun. Yet another lesson learned the hard way as one of the chains snapped and created a bigger problem. Nothing that AAA and a 1.5 hour wait couldn't fix, though. Now waiting for my new chain set to be delivered...oh, wait, they can't deliver with this snow-covered mountain road I live off of. Setting aside the copious snows, I'm guessing that since the Christmas snow I've had no mail/package delivery for 15 or more days.

at least I have a foot path!

And winter has a long way to go. I'm sure before too long I'll look back on all this and it won't seem as much a pain as it has surely been. I am not alone in asking, "Is it Spring, yet?"...I need the greening of the trees so I can get back to identifying Money Trees more easily.

I'm feelin' the excitement already...

COULD IT BE?????

***COUGH***

***SPUTTER****

***BURP***

Wishing on ol' 'Star light, star bright'...

"Twinkle, twinkle little star,
How I wonder what you are;
Little birdie in the sky,
Why'd you do that in my eye?
Twinkle, twinkle little star,
Boy, I'm glad that cows don't fly!"

Wishing. We all do it. Positive thinking, forward-looking, picturing what we want to manifest.

Easier said than done, I'll admit.

I think I speak for a lot of us when I say I 'wish' for a lot of things. They're not greedy, selfish, mean, or lowly things...to the contrary. Times just ain't easy for the bulk of us, and it's a matter of learning to be at peace "as-is" until we can effectively create positive change.

With that said, I have not felt my 'usual' literary nudges from the Universe of late...like going to a well to draw water and getting sand. I am in no way stopping the blogs and book chapters....but until my overwhelmed plate trims back, I'm afraid I'm going to be going 'underground' and more silent for the time being.

There will be blog posts, but for a few weeks I imagine they will be sporadic...I do appreciate those of you who check in, but, honestly, I'm not one to 'track' readers and follow numbers trends. I have no idea who reads my palaverings, none at all, save for those that write comments.

As with anything I do in "Life", especially flutes, I simply "do what I do" and pass it on. I don't 'expect' things from others...as the old saying goes (paraphrased), don't walk behind me as I may not lead...don't walk in front of me as I may not follow....just be beside me and let's let the Trail of Life lead us where it so chooses...or we choose....

As an aside, my War-Horse laptop with Vista O.S. is showing signs of dying...I may well be switching to Windows 7 within 48 hours, and if/when I do there will be another reason for ol' Bob to be 'quiet' until I get things up and running again.

With that said, I'm bidding a temporary ''adieu" as I deal with an over-filled plate of s'ghetti. It's all I know to do....

Until we meet again....

Just a 'good morning' postcard for ya! Click to enlarge if you'd like. Ebony #2 almost ready for pics, but not quite yet. May post later...after I've had more coffee!

Riddle me this, riddle me that....

What's black and black and, uh...black all over?
The answer will now be posted....

Ya know, Bill had a great idea with the oil spill....what a hiddeous Medusa that situation is becoming! No, nothing along the lines of injuries or things negative...just the production of my first Ebony flute.

Now, you may not be aware of how unusual that is, an Ebony flute. First and foremost you're talking $$$ as good Ebony starts at $75/ board-foot. Too, setting aside the expense, the sound you get from such a dense wood is in it's own little category.

And you may think Ebony is pure black, but that's not the case. Most Ebony has chocolaty ribbons in it, but when oiled and finished most of it goes very dark, indeed.

Meet "Nighthawk", named for the actual bird. This mid "A" (A4) is 20.5" long with a composite block of 3 thinner Ebony strips, with the end result being a bird silhouette that for me resembles a nighthawk.

The pictures are with the flute sanded and finished with one coat of Walnut Oil....I may re-oil and finish with wax, or may try a shiny poly coat on it, though Ebony can be fickle with finishes.

I suppose I need to qualify a 100% Ebony flute...the block actually has a 1/16" layer of Poplar on the bottom to help absorb a little moisture, as Ebony simply doesn't....should help this flute avoid super-fast 'wet-out' since Poplar will absorb some moisture. I coated the edge with a Sharpie to darken it!

The 'video' below is simply my means of attaching an MP3 file for you to hear the flute. My laptop speakers are horrid, so I will have to assume the sample sounds fine on your computer...just something I threw together and added in a little 'echo' for effect. Enjoy!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

For all the mothers out there and ALL you DO and PUT UP WITH, here's wishing you a beautiful day!!!!!!!!!!!! We of the 'astray' variety can't apologize and thank you enough! This flower is for you...

The Mayapples are now in bloom, and when you look from above you'd never see the flower as it is pretty much hidden by a couple of gargantual leaves overhead. For this picture I stuck the camera under the plant, and shot upward at it, using my swiveling screen to orient my eye-hand coordination. Click on the picture above to enlarge it, and probably click on that image again to get even larger...

I'm working the oddest shift that can be had at News 14 for today: I'm in Charlotte, working out of the Greensboro weather center, and producing weather forecasts for the Raleigh and Wilmington/Morehead City markets. Just about anything 'odd' is a "B'rer Rabbit's Briar Patch" for me, and this qualifies.

Interesting to note some numbers...a dry cold front raced through NC yesterday. Raleigh tied an old record and hit 90...hit 94 in Fayetteville...New Bern set a new record at 93...today all those locations carve highs back some 20-22 degrees, even with full sunshine! New Bern may not get out of the upper 60s, as the cooler air is screamed in on gusty NW winds.

Hope all y'all have a wonderful day...got more stuff to take care of here on my end...

Well, I tried.....

Happy Cinco de Mayo, y'all! Try as I might to find some classy humor per this South of the Border occasion to party hearty, it was all politically too incorrect. About the tamest one was about the twin Mexican brothers that were on the same firefighting squad...to help tell them apart they were called Hose A and Hose B.

As I said, gave up that search pretty quickly.

Cinco de Mayo is not to be confused with Mexico's Independence Day (September 16); rather, it's a celebration of the Mexican militia's defeat of the French army at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. 4,500 beleagured Mexican militiamen took on the dressed-to-impress and drilled French soldiers numbering some 2,000 more. Mexico had gone through the social and political wringer for decades, notwithstanding the Mexican-American war in the late 1840s.

Even with the Puebla victory, celebrations were cut short as the ticked-off Napoleon III sent an additional 30,000 troops to (basically) take over Mexico for their long-running failure to repay significant debts owed. Within a year, the Mexican militia was whooped, and the French gained solid control of Mexico City, installing Maximilian as ruler of Mexico. That, too, was rather short-lived, as civil and political unrest festered and boiled. Maximilian was executed by the Mexicans a few years later.

Anyway, that's the gist of the Cinco de Mayo celebration, a more regional celebration even within Mexico and a bastardized commercialism here in the States, something we seem to be all too proficient at doing. Some people need an excuse to party, some don't.

Speaking of the Battle of Puebla in 1862, if you happened to note the previous blog (Foster's "In the Merry Merry Month of May"), that song was penned in 1862, as well. First thing I think of is the irony of it all...writing upbeat songs about dabbling in hillside springs in a carefree manner...at a time when well over 35,000 Union and Confederate troops died in the May-July Peninsular Campaign around Richmond/central Virginia...later that summer was the Second Bull Run bloodshed, followed that fall with the Battle of Antietam. Just a select few of the carnages that took place that year...

Not trying to depress ye faithful readers today, but Stephen Foster's death was most untimely and tragic...cut short at age 37. Don't need to go into all the details here, so you can read about it on Wikipedia if you wish. Interesting to note through history the renowned individuals, be they composers, artists, scientists, writers, etc., whose earthly lives ended prematurely in impoverishment and tragedy.

One of his musical legacies was played before millions last Saturday with the running of the (oh-so-muddy) Kentucky Derby. Foster published "My Old Kentucky Home" in 1853.

(chorus)
Weep no more, my lady,
Oh weep no more today!
We will sing one song
for the old Kentucky home,
For the Old Kentucky Home
far away...

"In the Merry, Merry Month of May...."

"Our barks echo'd through the glen,
With blithe and joyful ring;
We dug our holes under mossy stones,
And we dabbled in the hillside spring."

Apologies to Stephen Foster, composer of "The Merry, Merry Month of May" way back in 1862. I altered a few words in the second verse to fit the lead-off pictures today...now that the inclement batch of heavy rains and storms is upon NC today, looks like a day to stay inside and look back on the the snaps I took this weekend.

(click on pics to enlarge)

The mellow Mercy doesn't bark, except when there's a raccoon, squirrel...or when Molly pesters her enough for a round of play. The lushness continues to unfold on the mountainside, thanks to all the moisture last winter.

Molly barks a-plenty...and loves to dig under mossy stones....and loves to get all kinds of muddy and wet knocking around the hillside spring...and stealing items not nailed down at the neighbor's house. I have noticed that ticks seem to be in good supply, a bit more than I remember for a spring.

The glades of Trillium really are a sight to behold, especially with the sprinkling of other colors...

...and I do generally prefer overcast conditions for photographing, as it is difficult in the best of times to maintain shadow/highlight definitions on bright, high-contrast days.

My little ol' warhorse Canon S2 continues to delight me with its macro capability, hand-held at that...its flip-out, rotating screen allows the camera to get in just an inch or two away while I save my back and knees from getting down to the picture at hand!

Two 'new' flowers making themselves seen are the Solomon's Seal above, with it's soon-to-be-flowers hanging down below the stem...

...to the very different flower (below) of False Solomon's Seal, a kissing cousin sans hanging bells below.

From above, the stalk and leaves look quite the same, but the False Solomon's Seal flower bunch at the tip of the stalk is the immediate give-away.

Violets of yellow, purple, and white are everywhere, including this brace of Canadian Violets.

From the land of Lilliput, so it would seem, is this diminutive of flowers now abounding, Star Chickweed, the bloom only as big as my pinkie fingernail.

Plenty of beauty in the non-flowering world, as well. Fiddlehead ferns are rosining up their frond bows; fern displays in general make a woodlands scene all the more verdant, eh?

Enjoy your day! Always good to bring a little nature into the walls of work-dom...

"Fried Fridays: Picking up the pieces..."

Oh, how I wanted to run with the Gov. Crist story (R-FL)...I am SO not a political person, but as you may be aware by some blog posts the past couple of months, I've got a bone to pick with the boorish behavior of elected officials and private citizens, alike. Crist wants to make a bona fide run for the senate, but apparently will have to do so as an independent.

All because of 'the hug'.

Yep, Crist did the unthinkable within the GOP ranks and citizenry by welcoming the newly elected President Obama to an official function...and gave him a welcome hug. You'd have thought he unleashed the world's most poisonous cooties...and the sound-byte interviews I heard on NPR radio a couple of weeks ago were proof that bigots really are alive and well everywhere, certainly in Florida. But I digress....

Most of us take pride in where we live...while times are tight anymore, and we might not have money to pay for a lot of house and yard maintenance, there is no excuse for not picking up trash or pulling up the worst weeds...the simple, free things that make a visual difference.

DATELINE: DENTON, TEXAS

Homes that have been in the family for many moons hold a special charm. Sometimes they are lived in 'til the end, and sometimes they may become more of a summer vacation destination once elderly parents have had to move out for various reasons.

This family's matriarch, 69 year-old Francis Howard, now lives with her son in Frisco...and they fondly remember the 47 years the house was lived in year-round. I'm just guessing, but I bet there was a lot of fresh-squeezed lemonade handed out on that big, wide porch, complete with a speckled pup in a green wagon on the front lawn, and out back sheets waving in the prarie breezes as they dry on the clotheslines strung between two mighty oaks...

But that's no excuse for neglecting the lawn.

That's no excuse for storing things (a loose term) outside, randomly.

That's no excuse for letting junk vehicles continue to rust, even if they weren't Fords.

And there's especially no excuse for not keeping the structure safe and repaired.

Nobody likes an eyesore, no matter the history. After repeated attempted-but-failed contacts, the city was left with no choice but to demolish the 'abandoned' home.

Too bad the demolition crew came and took down the Howard homestead instead of the unkempt property in question....ACROSS THE STREET.

"Oops!" doesn't quite cover it, does it...

And the survey said...

(click on pics to enlarge)

Not too shabby! A wonderful low C flute is first to emerge from my recent thick curly maple board I blogged about last week. I used the end of the board that had the most 'issues' per warp and bow and unevenness, jointing and planing until I had some sense of uniformity...the only minor upshot of that is the patterns from the bottom don't necessarily match up to patterns on the top. Then again, that's a pretty natural thing for most flutes to begin with.


It's 29" long, but I kept the SAC short (area from mouthpiece to the block) to make the reach easier. It's only about 19" from the mouth end to the lowest hole, and the finger holes are a comfortable 1.25" to 1.5" apart, center to center. The lower the flute key, the bigger the diameter the finger holes and the greater spacing; with that said, there are 'tricks' you can use in the lower key flutes to compensate for expanding dimensions and shorten the gaps. This is an easily played low flute with a wonderful voice.


The pictures are the unfinished flute with only a coat of Danish Wood Oil rubbed in. I recorded a song with the flute before I started putting on the shiny finish coats this morning...the shiny finish will accentuate the curl and figuring. With the short SAC, the block couldn't really go too far back....instead, I added pieces of Mahogany to the side, like wings, and brought them forward in an aesthetically pleasing curve. Just something a little different that worked well on this flute.

Since I can't load MP3s into this blog, I made a movie with the pictures above and embedded the test song in it...

"Fried Friday: That's the pits!"

Ah, another week in Stupidity Paradise, saddle pals. Eenie-meenie-mynie-mo....

I liked the way a Fostoria, Ohio prostitute got truly screwed: she approached a car and solicited the driver for paid sex....only the driver was the police chief undercover. Oops.

A 41 year-old Wisconsin woman was arrested for shooting people from her car...with a blow dart gun. When police arrested her they found the blowdart gun, a slingshot, and a bucket of small rocks. In the ensuing interrogation, Paula Wolf said she "liked to hear people say ouch."

However, this week's award goes to a desperate man trying to evade authorities...and it's not that what he did was stupid, but the millions of jokes that are going through my head thinking about what took place after the arrest....

DATELINE: ALBION, INDIANA

An unnamed 52 year-old man was wanted on methamphetamine charges. Normal fare, that.

Authorities gave chase to him and were searching for him on a northeastern Indiana farm. Seems like a rather typical scenario, criminal on the run, taking a more rural route.

When the police spotted him in his unsuccessful hideaway, he apparently had partaken of his illegal drug, became combative, and had to subdued, shocked twice with a stun gun.

He was then taken to the hospital for hypothermia treatment before being taken to the slammer, where he was held without bail for missing February and March hearing dates.

Normally a story like this I dismiss like a bad karaoke attempt (which has been too plentiful on this season's American Idol). But what attracted me to this story is where police found this man....

Under the floor of the barn, neck-deep in a liquified-manure tank of hog and dog feces. Apparently he'd been there for an hour...

Now picture being at the scene and watching what the officers did next....

Do they draw straws or play rocks-paper-scissors to see who gets to cuff him?

Whose patrol car does he ride in?

When he got combative, was he like a dog shaking off after a bath?

Did the officers go tell their spouses they had a sh*tty day at work?

Were the officers too smelly to go into the donut shop for a brew break?

The logistics boggle my mind...

Happy Earth Day!

Happy 40th Anniversary for a day that sorely needs to be celebrated EVERY day!

No other post today as I have a full plate to tend to. Honor the Earth and all things on, in, and above it.

"United be your purpose,
harmonious be your feelings,
collected be your mind,
in the same way as
all the various aspects
of the universe co-exist
in togetherness,
wholeness."

-Rik Samhita

Couldn't pass it up....

It was yelling at me in the store Saturday. Right out in front of everybody, but it seemed only I could hear the impatient shouts.

I looked, walked away, walked back and looked, and walked away...only to walk back and look....then borrowed a tape measure...then borrowed a scratch piece of paper and pen, and took lots of measurements....then walked out the door of the store...only to come back in and asked an employee about phone-in orders...

I need wood like I need a hole in my head. But it's hard to pass up some excellent figuring in wood, especially wood this huge....this gorgeous...and this inexpensive. Asheville Hardware recently moved to a new non-descript location near downtown on a dead side street, a gigantic warehouse that they'll be turning into an impressive woodworker's store and workshop space.

While current stock is really limited, they already have some wood, and a good bit of it is there on consignment, like the board that did the yelling....that I called about again Monday and bought it over the phone....that I picked up today and made one cut in the board.

It's curly Maple, with curl 100% through the board....there is a bit of Ambrosia Maple embedded (caused by the Ambrosia worm), as well as some spalting (thin black fungus lines that add a great deal to the wood's appearance). Character galore up and down this board.

All 12+ feet of it! 7-8" wide...and my favorite part: it was 8/4 lumber! Two solid inches thick, which made the value jump even more. "Normal" boards are 4/4, slightly less than an inch thick...in order to make lower key flutes, you have to have thicker boards, but finding 5/4 and 6/4 is hard. 8/4 in a board of this size and quality is simply something I've not seen in person, and even if you're not a woodworker, you'll appreciate the incredible figuring in this board. Sure, there are a few cracks and blemishes, and a little 'live edge' that isn't usable...but I've got a solid stash of one of my favorite woods to work with, now.

For the following pics, click to enlarge them...and depending on your screen settings, you may be able to click on that picture to make it even bigger yet. The board is basically flat, though it needs planing...so the 3-D 'look' is really just 2-D. Reminiscent of that earlier post from that old Maple by Lake Junaluska that showed the curl in a scar from storm damage....enjoy!

Old story rearing its head....

Musing out loud, here....

A friend, notorious for mass forwarding mass emails, sent yet another zinger lie last evening. It so happens he is a Republican of the more conservative Christian Coalition side of the tracks. It is no surprise that the tenor of his emails is clearly anti-Obama. To each his own, I say. We are each free to hold and voice our own opinions. HOWEVER.....

I draw the line when people choose to perpetuate untruths to promote their agenda.

Why do I write this? Simply yet another email sent my way, which many I ignore and delete without reading....and in all of less than a minute I searched for the real story and....guess what....it's not true, not like the email intends, which in this case is to disparage Obama and trump up hatred for him via Muslim-based lies.

Yes, hatred is a strong, strong word. I can't call it anything less, though.

The only question I have is, "WHY?" OK, they hate Obama, they hate democrats, they hate gays, they hate anything that is counter to their beliefs. Oh, so let me get this straight....it's OK to LIE as long as it promotes your so-called 'truth'? That's really pathetic.

It's Americans behaving badly, is what it is.

I guess I can't fathom how people willfully choose to ignore or not search for the truth, or that have no desire to compromise in any way shape or form. That's bigotry of the worst kind. I think we should hand out bumper stickers for 'em that say "I CHOOSE TO BE BLIND"

About a year ago, I took one of his emails and did a respectful 'reply all' explaining the responsibility to seek the truth about rumors...and got a nasty-gram from one of the recipients asking, 'in the name of Jesus Christ', how I got their name. I told them with a full explanation. Go figure why I never heard back from them. Now, he's gotten a little more wise, and 'reply all' only goes to him, not the mass email list. Too bad, as I was prepared to have some fun with this one.

I just put this out there since it's gotten in my face yet again, and I'm tired of being railroaded by what amounts to nothing more than political, theocratic thugs. Seem to be crawling out of the woodwork these days, too.

Okie-dokie, getting off my soapbox, and going back to using the delete button for a while....

Mo' flowers...

(video at bottom added hours after the original post)

Focused on flutes lately, so the brain hasn't journeyed very far. I did go out and snap some 'plinks' of the wildflowers on the property as all is changing daily...and ya can never go wrong with some nature pics! Remember to click on pics to enlarage should you want to do that.

This fuzzy wuzzy was not a bear; rather, it was the naissance of Dwarf Larkspur blooms...

And this is the Dwarf Larkspur out in all it's purple-blue glory...

Blue Cohosh is growing tall quickly, now, a plant with strong medicinal properties related to all things uterine...


You might not give this plant a second look, given it's camouflaged, greenish bloom. This is Nodding Mandarin, aka Yellow Mandarin....


Sorry to repeat species from earlier posts, but I find the Trillium (this one a Wake Robin) to be a very artsy and photogenic plant...

Yellows are starting to come into the flowering world, now....this is the droopy large-flowering Bellwort...

...and the good ol' yellow violets that are coming out in abundance, this one the hairy Downy Yellow varietal...


"Where flowers bloom,
so does hope."
- Lady Bird Johnson

And for your viewing pleasure, here is a male Dark-eyed Junco defending his territory against an 'intruder', played by my passenger side mirror...

"Fried Fridays: Smile or ELSE!"

Whereas in past weeks I had a cornucopia of stories to write about for "Fried Fridays", this week I'm holding an empty poke. Stupid stories, sad stories, but little in the really 'fried' category...and I'm running with a story composed of only 135 words.

The story was that a judge threw out this case...as well he should have...but the 'fried' component was the original lawsuit...

DATELINE: ERIE, PENNSYLVANIA

Judge Ernest DeSantis, Jr. threw out a case before him this past Wednesday, on the grounds the plaintiff failed to make a case. Bravo. To say we have become a litigious society is a gross understatement...we sue for any and everything, and the worst part is not the taxpayer money wasted in the process but the asinine amounts of money awarded to idiots for idiotic reasons.

I bet you'd like to know how I really feel...

Luckily, this bull was stopped in its tracks before an awards ceremony. We start with a 12 year-old girl named Dominica Juliano, the 'traumatized' youth in this story. The suit was filed by her unnamed guardian, so it wasn't a mom or a dad. It may have been the grandmother who was with young Dominica when that fateful day occurred.

NOTE: The following account may not be acceptable for young readers. Proceed with caution and please don't sue me over it...

The location was a Country Fair convenience store in Erie, Pennsylvania....like you couldn't figure that out from the 'dateline' above. But this didn't happen a few weeks or months ago....no, this debilitating incident took place in June of 2004. Worthy of cricket chirps, here...

The net effect of this incident was that Dominica, being sensitive to light, was burned and developed deep emotional, psychological problems....apparently enough to warrant a long-running lawsuit against the store and the clerk on duty that horrific day.

Adults have to use extra caution when around under-age kids....you just can't say and do things you would with someone your own age and size. Apparently this girl was enough of a toot that the unnamed employee called her 'grumpy' and proceeded to do something to make her smile.

Yes, the clerk, having grown weary of the little sour-puss, did the unthinkable: he or she aimed a hand-held product scanner at the girl's face and told her to smile.

Horror of horrors. I pity whoever tries to date, much less marry, this forever-mentally disfigured girl. To wake up in the middle of the night in fearful sweat, all because of a harmless LED light...

Knowing all this trouble would be hanging like a bad odor almost six years later, the clerk SHOULD have whacked grandma over the head with that scanner. Judge Judy would have had a field day with this one...