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Bearer of Snakes!
Apr. 2nd, 2004 10:56 amOne of the random bits of useless information I ran across online recently was a modern discourse on astrology, at the Griffith Observatory's site. According to this, I could continue to consider myself a Gemini under the traditional Zodiac, or a Taurus under the corrected version. So am I the Twins? Or the Bull?
Or maybe just The Twin Bulls
Or maybe just The Twin Bulls
If there's an afterlife...
Mar. 27th, 2004 01:37 am...there're a whole lot of really pissed-off elephants waiting.
(no subject)
Mar. 14th, 2004 12:16 pmBeing ever curious about the workings of my dog's mind, one of the things I tend to do is watch her as she's dreaming and try to figure out what her dreams are about. Most of the time they're not too hard to figure out, at least in generalities; paws and nose twitching (probably running through grass with her head low to take in the smells), eating, howling at being left alone. Generally recent memories of waking events, since they often correspond to things she's done that day. (I'll often whisper her name or touch her gently if she's howling or whining, since it sounds like she's having a bad dream. It seems to relax her.)
She barks in her sleep sometimes too, something she rarely does when awake (amusingly, she barks with her mouth shut when asleep); other times she has snarly dreams, and again she's very rarely snarly when awake. I wonder more about these dreams. Are they memories from a more distant past? Suppressed urges she doesn't express outside of sleep? Utter fiction, as our own dreams often are?
Today she did something I'd not seen before. At first I thought she must just be dreaming about drinking, since her tongue was out quite a ways and she was making some gutteral sounds I initially took for gulping. But her front paws--only her front paws--were moving, and she was making her snarly face. Then I remembered how she's still jumpy after all this time about being touched on her shoulder or chest while she's lying down, her wariness of raised arms and other indications of past abuse, her fright of children...
Sometimes I really wonder what this girl's been through.
She barks in her sleep sometimes too, something she rarely does when awake (amusingly, she barks with her mouth shut when asleep); other times she has snarly dreams, and again she's very rarely snarly when awake. I wonder more about these dreams. Are they memories from a more distant past? Suppressed urges she doesn't express outside of sleep? Utter fiction, as our own dreams often are?
Today she did something I'd not seen before. At first I thought she must just be dreaming about drinking, since her tongue was out quite a ways and she was making some gutteral sounds I initially took for gulping. But her front paws--only her front paws--were moving, and she was making her snarly face. Then I remembered how she's still jumpy after all this time about being touched on her shoulder or chest while she's lying down, her wariness of raised arms and other indications of past abuse, her fright of children...
Sometimes I really wonder what this girl's been through.
( Because you all know how much I love these quiz thingies. )
Oh! And if you've ever wondered what it would sound like if old Metallica and old (Di'Anno era) Maiden would sound like if they bred, check dis out.
Oh! And if you've ever wondered what it would sound like if old Metallica and old (Di'Anno era) Maiden would sound like if they bred, check dis out.
Weekends o' fur-ridden freakishness
Jan. 26th, 2004 09:01 pmIt was pretty much a last-minute decision. I hadn't even thought about the con nor known it was only a couple days away when people started asking if I'd be there, much less entertained the thought of going; I was going to spend the weekend trying to get my place in some kind of order.
But what the hell. I never was much of one for planning anyway, and there were enough people I'd not seen in years and wanted to see again that I nailed down a nearby motel room and made the seven hour trek. It actually felt good to have a long stretch of road ahead of me again. I arrived Saturday evening and managed to run into a few folks before turning in, but Sunday is when I caught up with most everyone.
For me, most of the time was spent renewing old friendships and making a few new acquaintances; I managed to meet up with most of the folks I wanted to chat with, and mostly didn't run into anyone I didn't want to. So all and all it was a good weekend for my part, even if it makes for a rather dull con report.
For the Dawg it was an absolute blast. The hotel was pet-friendly, so she was able to join me almost everywhere I went (I really must write the hotel and express appreciation for that policy). There were all sorts of new places to check out, and everywhere she went she ran into complete strangers who were delighted to meet her and went out of their way to fuss her, compliment her, and sneak her the odd bit of Slim Jim or pizza. So many people with fascinating smells from their own pets, or from food, or from...things I probably don't want to think about. And so many wanted to take her picture I started joking about charging a modelling fee. One of the more amusing moments was when Gallacci stopped to lay down on the lobby floor next to her for something like fifteen minutes and coo over her. It was all most exciting for her, and did nothing but good for her confidence and people skills. She may have been a bit restless on the trip up, but we'd not even driven two miles on the homeward journey before she was out cold with her head leaning against my side.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
byee, chipuni, clipfox, explodingmikan, geddcoon, javachickn, jonasbagel, kitsumi, Mad Max Blackrabbit, mharpold8, octantis, saribou, Steve Gallacci, thphilster, wordslinger, and others no doubt escaping my notoriously faulty memory or whose tags I didn't catch, for helping make it such an enjoyable time for myself and the fuzzbeast.
Side notes:
Jonas--pity we didn't run into one another again Sunday, would've been good to catch up more. The guest room's ready whenever you want to stop by.
Kits--GNAW! >:D
Sarah--write already, you know where to find me. Been too many years.
Phil--I'll just have to find another reason to annoy you now. :D The punchline was classic, BTW.
Mel--you asked for photos, but hope you don't mind I brought the model instead.
And to all of you I keep up with who are also sellers, apologies for being such a non-customer. So many of you do fine work, but right now I find myself rather burned out on the genre; I'd rather just buy a round and spend time chatting with all you good people over beer, than hurriedly pawing over prints amidst the Heaving Throng.
But what the hell. I never was much of one for planning anyway, and there were enough people I'd not seen in years and wanted to see again that I nailed down a nearby motel room and made the seven hour trek. It actually felt good to have a long stretch of road ahead of me again. I arrived Saturday evening and managed to run into a few folks before turning in, but Sunday is when I caught up with most everyone.
For me, most of the time was spent renewing old friendships and making a few new acquaintances; I managed to meet up with most of the folks I wanted to chat with, and mostly didn't run into anyone I didn't want to. So all and all it was a good weekend for my part, even if it makes for a rather dull con report.
For the Dawg it was an absolute blast. The hotel was pet-friendly, so she was able to join me almost everywhere I went (I really must write the hotel and express appreciation for that policy). There were all sorts of new places to check out, and everywhere she went she ran into complete strangers who were delighted to meet her and went out of their way to fuss her, compliment her, and sneak her the odd bit of Slim Jim or pizza. So many people with fascinating smells from their own pets, or from food, or from...things I probably don't want to think about. And so many wanted to take her picture I started joking about charging a modelling fee. One of the more amusing moments was when Gallacci stopped to lay down on the lobby floor next to her for something like fifteen minutes and coo over her. It was all most exciting for her, and did nothing but good for her confidence and people skills. She may have been a bit restless on the trip up, but we'd not even driven two miles on the homeward journey before she was out cold with her head leaning against my side.
Thanks to
byee, chipuni, clipfox, explodingmikan, geddcoon, javachickn, jonasbagel, kitsumi, Mad Max Blackrabbit, mharpold8, octantis, saribou, Steve Gallacci, thphilster, wordslinger, and others no doubt escaping my notoriously faulty memory or whose tags I didn't catch, for helping make it such an enjoyable time for myself and the fuzzbeast.Side notes:
Jonas--pity we didn't run into one another again Sunday, would've been good to catch up more. The guest room's ready whenever you want to stop by.
Kits--GNAW! >:D
Sarah--write already, you know where to find me. Been too many years.
Phil--I'll just have to find another reason to annoy you now. :D The punchline was classic, BTW.
Mel--you asked for photos, but hope you don't mind I brought the model instead.
And to all of you I keep up with who are also sellers, apologies for being such a non-customer. So many of you do fine work, but right now I find myself rather burned out on the genre; I'd rather just buy a round and spend time chatting with all you good people over beer, than hurriedly pawing over prints amidst the Heaving Throng.
1750sf and it's ALL MINE!
Jan. 19th, 2004 11:34 pmAirstream makes a nice vacation trailer and all, but it's far from being an ideal home. Had no idea I was going to be playing white trash in it for so long, but godDAMN it feels good to be out of there and moving into a proper house finally. And I couldn't ask for better weather for hauling stuff out of storage and into the house, especially in January. No threat of rain, light breeze, 70s, awesome. Now to figure out where to put everything, amidst discovering things I forgot I had. Four bedrooms, two stories, upper landing that overlooks the living room, not a bad pad. Hell, I even have a proper guest room now. Yes, muchly improved situation. Need more shelves though, yes.
On a different tangent, just noticed someone named jeremylane has started watching my journal. We share no interests according to his profile, we're not in any of the same communities, and I don't even recognize any of the other users on his friends list. So not only don't I know who he is, I don't even know how he found me. Another of life's little mysteries I suppose.
Back to unpacking, whee!
On a different tangent, just noticed someone named jeremylane has started watching my journal. We share no interests according to his profile, we're not in any of the same communities, and I don't even recognize any of the other users on his friends list. So not only don't I know who he is, I don't even know how he found me. Another of life's little mysteries I suppose.
Back to unpacking, whee!
The smell of snails, fresh rain, decomposing leaves. Grass glows as it only does under ominous weather, as if to counter the oppression overhead. My school uniform scratches at my neck. A patch of trees and fern seperates our houses, but to my young mind the path connecting our yards is dark, secret, mysterious.
Daylight struggles weakly through dark swollen clouds, fluttering green leaves, a rain-spattered window (paint cracked on its old wooden frame), onto damp plaster walls. The patter of raindrops is a light flutter; the bare room defiantly resists being lit by the window, and the glass pane sucks heat from me when I'm in its weak radius of light. One of the loneliest sounds I know is that of a car driving past on wet asphalt.
Downstairs, patterned wool rugs try to warm hardwood floors, like a blanket too short to cover your feet. The musty smell of the antique player piano in the foyer. A ghostly howl of cold wind seeps through a poor seal somewhere. Iron radiators creak, and at night monsters lurk in the stretch of darkness between the back door and the outhouse.
Daylight struggles weakly through dark swollen clouds, fluttering green leaves, a rain-spattered window (paint cracked on its old wooden frame), onto damp plaster walls. The patter of raindrops is a light flutter; the bare room defiantly resists being lit by the window, and the glass pane sucks heat from me when I'm in its weak radius of light. One of the loneliest sounds I know is that of a car driving past on wet asphalt.
Downstairs, patterned wool rugs try to warm hardwood floors, like a blanket too short to cover your feet. The musty smell of the antique player piano in the foyer. A ghostly howl of cold wind seeps through a poor seal somewhere. Iron radiators creak, and at night monsters lurk in the stretch of darkness between the back door and the outhouse.
I...AM...IRON-Y!
Dec. 12th, 2003 05:53 pmOK so I'm not sure what the subject really means, but the relevancy will be touched on momentarily. I've not had time to read LJ, so I just caught up on something like a month's worth of entries. Belated congrats to Ursula on her sleuthing (funny, she doesn't look Drewish). No doubt other things of interest I would've commented on has I read things in a more timely manner, but my mind is mush now so I say nothing. Ha! Take that.
Sauntering casually now into the realm of material possessions, I finally got my bass back! OK, I've had it back for a bit now, I've just not been writing entries lately. It's a 3/4 2000 year Wilhelm Eberle, solid spruce carved top, and nicely tweaked out by Hammond Ashley where I'd had my rent-to-own deal going. Lovely aggressive tone which should come to life even more once I get more suitable round-wounds on it.
I'd also been itching to get my fingers wrapped around a guitar's neck again. Sadly, my old Les Paul copy's frets wore down years ago, and given the cost to get it refretted it hardly seemed worth the effort for a bastard guitar like that. So I braved the seasonal crowds, and though I'd found myself rather liking some of the real Gibsons (Les Paul Studio, very tasty) I eventually clawed my way out of Guitar Center with a Gretsch. Korean-made, Les Paul body style, Bigsby tremolo, one of the last remaining stock before Fender bought them out. Enough rockabilly twang to shatter your temples, despite being a solid-body, and actually the sound did have a refreshing effect on my (slowly recuperating) playing style. Not a bad little beast really, and the price wasn't bad, but without intending to flag-wave the fit and finish just isn't quite up to the quality of some of the American counterparts. It plays adequately, I just never really fell in love with it, though I do dig on the sound.
Out of habit and wishful thinking more than anything I checked back periodically online at the models I did rather like in hopes of miraculous price-reductions. And I'll be damned if it didn't happen--earlier this week an online retailer decided to close out their stock of Gibson Toni Iommi Signature SGs, and apparantly immediately sold out of all stock. Dammit! OK, quick aside here. SG isn't really my absolute favorite model, and I wasn't attracted to this one out of some fannish obsession with having Toni's signature crosses on the fretboard or autograph on the headstock. Toni's an awesome guitarist, but I don't want to be him. Anyway it's basically a '61 reissue if I have my info right, which has some nice points to it on its own merits, but with 24 frets and pickups Toni collaborated with Gibson to create. I've played one of these SGs, and they do sound rather nice. But they were sold out no sooner than they'd marked them down, so I grumbled and continued on.
Today my obsessive habit struck again, and for some reason the same retailer showed them as in stock. In stock! I started the check-out procedure and called Guitar Center to confirm their return policy (yes, I can still return the Gretsch). But by the time I'd gotten to the part where I enter my credit card number the item suddenly showed as no longer in stock. I cursed, I railed, I swore vengeance upon the gods who toy so frivilously with my emotions! And I completed the order anyway in case it might reserve me one in the event of more turning up in stock somehow.
Then I called them. Turns out I'd gotten the last one in stock, and once I'd started the order it took the item out of inventory. Bichen. So it looks like once again I'll have spent a bit much this holiday season--but this time I'll be the one getting something rather nice, instead of some cheesy stuffed animal or similar cheap afterthought. Go me! Now I just have to battle festive holiday traffic and crowds back down to return the old to make room for the new. Perhaps someday I'll look into Gretsch to get that sound again, but I'll more likely try for a hollowbody when the time comes.
Whew. Long entry. Probably should've cut-tagged it, but I'll just make all of you suffer through it this time instead.
Sauntering casually now into the realm of material possessions, I finally got my bass back! OK, I've had it back for a bit now, I've just not been writing entries lately. It's a 3/4 2000 year Wilhelm Eberle, solid spruce carved top, and nicely tweaked out by Hammond Ashley where I'd had my rent-to-own deal going. Lovely aggressive tone which should come to life even more once I get more suitable round-wounds on it.
I'd also been itching to get my fingers wrapped around a guitar's neck again. Sadly, my old Les Paul copy's frets wore down years ago, and given the cost to get it refretted it hardly seemed worth the effort for a bastard guitar like that. So I braved the seasonal crowds, and though I'd found myself rather liking some of the real Gibsons (Les Paul Studio, very tasty) I eventually clawed my way out of Guitar Center with a Gretsch. Korean-made, Les Paul body style, Bigsby tremolo, one of the last remaining stock before Fender bought them out. Enough rockabilly twang to shatter your temples, despite being a solid-body, and actually the sound did have a refreshing effect on my (slowly recuperating) playing style. Not a bad little beast really, and the price wasn't bad, but without intending to flag-wave the fit and finish just isn't quite up to the quality of some of the American counterparts. It plays adequately, I just never really fell in love with it, though I do dig on the sound.
Out of habit and wishful thinking more than anything I checked back periodically online at the models I did rather like in hopes of miraculous price-reductions. And I'll be damned if it didn't happen--earlier this week an online retailer decided to close out their stock of Gibson Toni Iommi Signature SGs, and apparantly immediately sold out of all stock. Dammit! OK, quick aside here. SG isn't really my absolute favorite model, and I wasn't attracted to this one out of some fannish obsession with having Toni's signature crosses on the fretboard or autograph on the headstock. Toni's an awesome guitarist, but I don't want to be him. Anyway it's basically a '61 reissue if I have my info right, which has some nice points to it on its own merits, but with 24 frets and pickups Toni collaborated with Gibson to create. I've played one of these SGs, and they do sound rather nice. But they were sold out no sooner than they'd marked them down, so I grumbled and continued on.
Today my obsessive habit struck again, and for some reason the same retailer showed them as in stock. In stock! I started the check-out procedure and called Guitar Center to confirm their return policy (yes, I can still return the Gretsch). But by the time I'd gotten to the part where I enter my credit card number the item suddenly showed as no longer in stock. I cursed, I railed, I swore vengeance upon the gods who toy so frivilously with my emotions! And I completed the order anyway in case it might reserve me one in the event of more turning up in stock somehow.
Then I called them. Turns out I'd gotten the last one in stock, and once I'd started the order it took the item out of inventory. Bichen. So it looks like once again I'll have spent a bit much this holiday season--but this time I'll be the one getting something rather nice, instead of some cheesy stuffed animal or similar cheap afterthought. Go me! Now I just have to battle festive holiday traffic and crowds back down to return the old to make room for the new. Perhaps someday I'll look into Gretsch to get that sound again, but I'll more likely try for a hollowbody when the time comes.
Whew. Long entry. Probably should've cut-tagged it, but I'll just make all of you suffer through it this time instead.
(no subject)
Aug. 29th, 2003 11:45 pmI am an adventurer. Ranger by profession, gnome by birth. My key attributes are stealth and surprise, coupled with an intimate understanding of the wild outdoors. I'm currently in the 15th level of the Dungeons of Doom, where my outdoorsy skills are of dubious use, leaving me to rely on my other skills. I have with me my two young sons, Stanley and Laurel. They're blue dragons.
So much for stealth and surprise.
It all started some time back when as a younger and more naive gnomeling I came across a wand of polymorph; knowing I had some rather formidable adversaries ahead of me I used it on myself and hoped for the best. You already know by now what form I took, which was of course entirely better suited for dusting a few trolls than my more usual form. As I waited for the absent parties to turn up for slaughter a strange maternal instinct took over, and I began to nest. A clutch of three eggs I laid, and once I'd finished my anticipated carnage and reverted to my more petite stature, three eggs I carried in my knapsack, safe and warm amongst the assorted rusty cutlery I seemed to keep collecting. Ere long I felt wrigglings in the sack, three in turn, each followed by a young wyrm falling out to dance around me with cries of "Mommy!" Poor kids never knew their mother in dragonly form. I can't wait to see their therapists' bills. I named them Manny, Moe, and Jack, and I took care of them as best as I could, given the environment.
We killed monsters together, ate the corpses together, sang around the campfire together, and in what seemed to be no time at all they grew to be strapping young fellows. They grow up so quickly. Moe hadn't even outgrown his hatchling teeth before he decided it was time to make a home of his own; he seemed to take a liking to the ninth level of the dungeon and paid no more heed to my pleas to come back to the family gatherings as he set about hording what rocks and debris be could find instead. I suppose I should've seen this coming, he always was so independant; after all, it was Moe who killed and ate the peaceful priest of Venus behind my back while my other two boys stayed obediantly by my side. Oh, I tried to scold him when I found out, but he flashed those gleaming, slit-pupilled baby-yellows at me and I'm afraid my heart just melted. Boys will be boys, I thought with a mental sigh; besides, I did pilfer a few decent potions out of the deal. But now he's been gone for several levels and hasn't even bothered to write. He shouldn't leave his mother to worry about him like this.
Since Moe's departure I renamed Manny and Jack to Laurel and Stanley. Stanley's been eating well and has finally grown to be a handsome young adult, still soft-spoken and gentle as always, while young Stanley remains a rambunctious youth. I tell him to eat more, that he's all skin and bones, but he's always too busy running around with some Uruk-Hai's shield on his head or hiding Mommy's treasure chest.
Must close for now, as Stanley seems to be, ah, haggling with a storekeeper. I'm enclosing a group photo below (that's Stanley on the right).
-------+--
|..........|
|...D@.....|
|.....D....|
----------
(Who needs MMORPGs with this kind of entertainment?)
So much for stealth and surprise.
It all started some time back when as a younger and more naive gnomeling I came across a wand of polymorph; knowing I had some rather formidable adversaries ahead of me I used it on myself and hoped for the best. You already know by now what form I took, which was of course entirely better suited for dusting a few trolls than my more usual form. As I waited for the absent parties to turn up for slaughter a strange maternal instinct took over, and I began to nest. A clutch of three eggs I laid, and once I'd finished my anticipated carnage and reverted to my more petite stature, three eggs I carried in my knapsack, safe and warm amongst the assorted rusty cutlery I seemed to keep collecting. Ere long I felt wrigglings in the sack, three in turn, each followed by a young wyrm falling out to dance around me with cries of "Mommy!" Poor kids never knew their mother in dragonly form. I can't wait to see their therapists' bills. I named them Manny, Moe, and Jack, and I took care of them as best as I could, given the environment.
We killed monsters together, ate the corpses together, sang around the campfire together, and in what seemed to be no time at all they grew to be strapping young fellows. They grow up so quickly. Moe hadn't even outgrown his hatchling teeth before he decided it was time to make a home of his own; he seemed to take a liking to the ninth level of the dungeon and paid no more heed to my pleas to come back to the family gatherings as he set about hording what rocks and debris be could find instead. I suppose I should've seen this coming, he always was so independant; after all, it was Moe who killed and ate the peaceful priest of Venus behind my back while my other two boys stayed obediantly by my side. Oh, I tried to scold him when I found out, but he flashed those gleaming, slit-pupilled baby-yellows at me and I'm afraid my heart just melted. Boys will be boys, I thought with a mental sigh; besides, I did pilfer a few decent potions out of the deal. But now he's been gone for several levels and hasn't even bothered to write. He shouldn't leave his mother to worry about him like this.
Since Moe's departure I renamed Manny and Jack to Laurel and Stanley. Stanley's been eating well and has finally grown to be a handsome young adult, still soft-spoken and gentle as always, while young Stanley remains a rambunctious youth. I tell him to eat more, that he's all skin and bones, but he's always too busy running around with some Uruk-Hai's shield on his head or hiding Mommy's treasure chest.
Must close for now, as Stanley seems to be, ah, haggling with a storekeeper. I'm enclosing a group photo below (that's Stanley on the right).
-------+--
|..........|
|...D@.....|
|.....D....|
----------
(Who needs MMORPGs with this kind of entertainment?)
So many horses, so few fingernails...
Jun. 24th, 2003 12:33 amGot back latelate last night from a weekend trip to Cupertino, where I stayed with a friend and hit the Buck Brannaman clinic going on nearby, being our main reason for converging up there. Colt breaking, ranch roping, and general equitation were the themes, though we only wound up hitting the Saturday session. I didn't run across anyone I recognized though my friend ran into several she knew, and at least a couple knew who I was which was kinda neat. A fair variety of the standard clinic fare (of both two- and four-legged varieties) in attendance, the only exception standing out in my mind being a gorgeous, if frustrated, Lusitano/Lipzzaner I would've gladly taken home if I could have. I didn't get too much out of the clinic, though I attribute it more to both being unable to hear too well and being too distracted just watching behaviors rather than inability on Buck's part.
Much of the rest of the weekend was touring around various stables my friend has been known to haunt, with many assorted cool folks to meet and fuzzy noses to pet. Dawg was universally a hit with everyone she met (well OK, the mini was a bit disturbed), though her breed background remains equally consistently misidentified. Even while strolling around downtown I kept hearing "Australian shepherd" being muttered, which continues to amuse me.
Time constraints prevented us from spending more than a couple hours or less in San Fran before dashing off to our respective homes. I really need to take time to just meander aimlessly around there again sometime. Overall it was a fun weekend and nice break, despite all the driving and my friend continually trying to give me girl-cooties.
Back home, the fence around what will be my yard has been finished (I plan to put electric around the remaining perimeter), and the house plans have finally been extracted from my architect and are undergoing county plan check. A few glitches I've already noticed and will have to redline for him, but those can get corrected when the county comes back with their comments as well. Next I've gotta get the power to my pole (yes, still) and get started on a soil percolation test.
But for now one of those little slices of death, how I loathe them, and back to the old CRT-and-chain again in the morning.
Much of the rest of the weekend was touring around various stables my friend has been known to haunt, with many assorted cool folks to meet and fuzzy noses to pet. Dawg was universally a hit with everyone she met (well OK, the mini was a bit disturbed), though her breed background remains equally consistently misidentified. Even while strolling around downtown I kept hearing "Australian shepherd" being muttered, which continues to amuse me.
Time constraints prevented us from spending more than a couple hours or less in San Fran before dashing off to our respective homes. I really need to take time to just meander aimlessly around there again sometime. Overall it was a fun weekend and nice break, despite all the driving and my friend continually trying to give me girl-cooties.
Back home, the fence around what will be my yard has been finished (I plan to put electric around the remaining perimeter), and the house plans have finally been extracted from my architect and are undergoing county plan check. A few glitches I've already noticed and will have to redline for him, but those can get corrected when the county comes back with their comments as well. Next I've gotta get the power to my pole (yes, still) and get started on a soil percolation test.
But for now one of those little slices of death, how I loathe them, and back to the old CRT-and-chain again in the morning.
Just got back from the Flying J truck stop in Barstow, just off the I-15. The Blues Brothers* were playing a live show there.
Yes. Really.
*(OK, so Jim Belushi filled in as Jake. Close enough)
Yes. Really.
*(OK, so Jim Belushi filled in as Jake. Close enough)
Hot metal and methadrine
May. 29th, 2003 11:42 amSCE has my pole and xformer up; the sub who was supposed to get my COSP in flaked, but promised it'd be in by tomorrow. I remain dubious and rather annoyed at him, but at least he's getting my well dug now, so there's some form of progress on the dirtfarm. My architech also assures me my finalized plans will be ready for buiding department approval on schedule, and I'm to meet with a fencer (barrier, not rapier) on Monday to scheme enclosure.
Meanwhile, my folks invited me over for a rather nice birthday dinner last night, and handed me the title to one of their cars. Nothing new or glamorous by any means, but it at least gets better mileage than my lumbering Chevy horse-hauler and has plenty of room for Dawg to ride in it, so is a good thing.
The peonies continue to grow, albeit more slowly now that they've sprouted and gotten a couple leaves out to collect sun. Maddeningly slow! Although I'd commited something of a genocide by letting them outside in desert heat before I think they were old enough to handle it, the good news is that more have sprouted since--even though they weren't supposed to germinate at this high a temperature! And my Artemesia seeds surprised me by sprouting recently as well, so there's lots of leafy goodness going on in the window now. Even the Heliotropium I'd supposed dead has bravely sprouted forth a few new leaves, so perhaps there's hope for that poor, abused plant as well. I'm anxious to see some blooms, but satisfied with progress, despite my miniature vegetative holocaust.
ObBeer: Humboldt Brewing Company's Hemp Ale. There's not a huge selection at the local market, but this random choice turned out to a palatable choice. This isn't as odd a creature as some might think, as hemp and hops are related and serve essentially the same function. I don't have any more to sample while reviewing, lamentably, so from memory: There's enough bitter in the background to add interest, but for the most part it's a smooth, slightly creamy medium ale with good flavor, and another fine candidate for my Summer Beer category. Worth picking up if you happen across it.
Meanwhile, my folks invited me over for a rather nice birthday dinner last night, and handed me the title to one of their cars. Nothing new or glamorous by any means, but it at least gets better mileage than my lumbering Chevy horse-hauler and has plenty of room for Dawg to ride in it, so is a good thing.
The peonies continue to grow, albeit more slowly now that they've sprouted and gotten a couple leaves out to collect sun. Maddeningly slow! Although I'd commited something of a genocide by letting them outside in desert heat before I think they were old enough to handle it, the good news is that more have sprouted since--even though they weren't supposed to germinate at this high a temperature! And my Artemesia seeds surprised me by sprouting recently as well, so there's lots of leafy goodness going on in the window now. Even the Heliotropium I'd supposed dead has bravely sprouted forth a few new leaves, so perhaps there's hope for that poor, abused plant as well. I'm anxious to see some blooms, but satisfied with progress, despite my miniature vegetative holocaust.
ObBeer: Humboldt Brewing Company's Hemp Ale. There's not a huge selection at the local market, but this random choice turned out to a palatable choice. This isn't as odd a creature as some might think, as hemp and hops are related and serve essentially the same function. I don't have any more to sample while reviewing, lamentably, so from memory: There's enough bitter in the background to add interest, but for the most part it's a smooth, slightly creamy medium ale with good flavor, and another fine candidate for my Summer Beer category. Worth picking up if you happen across it.
The House that LJ Built
May. 5th, 2003 11:43 pmThe progress thus far: within a week I should have a well dug, and a service pole installed ready for SCE; by the end of the month SCE should have power to my pole. The only things I'm behind on are getting a soil percolation test done for septic permits, and fencing worked out. My architect has been swamped, and thus hasn't been able to work on preliminary plans yet--but this could wind up being a good thing after all. I'll get to that in a minute.
Phase 1 of my house plans, as mentioned previously, will essentially be a studio apartment I can have built relatively quickly and live in, at which point I'm free to take my time with the remainder of the place. I've pretty much settled on the Queen Anne/Gothic Revival styles of Victorian architecture for inspiration, with Phase 1 making use of plank hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, ceramic/clay/stone tiling in the kitchenette and bathroom, molding for the ceiling, and waitscots in at least some areas--and goshdarnit, I will have a clawfoot tub! Most of the glass will be on the north-facing wall, and a second-floor porch will permit views of the river, sunsets, and the eventual horse paddock and garden (which I'll try planning somewhat intelligently). Once the rest of the house is habitable, the apartment will wind up becoming a combination guest suite, entertainment/party room, art/photo/music studio, and general retreat.
Now, here's how you, gentle reader, can assist in my little project, and how my architect's delay suddenly becomes beneficial. What're some of the things you find really annoying, frequently lacking, or would just plain like to see in a house? All thoughts and suggestions welcomed, no matter how trivial! Me, I find most places lack enough storage. By way of starting things off, I feel kitchen storage should be drawers for the most part in any areas lower than the counter, since low cabinets aren't really easy to use. Or as another example, why don't bathrooms ever have a storage place for those icky toilet-cleaning implements, instead of leaving people to keep them out in the open right next to the water closet? I also can't stand sliding patio doors, since they usually wind up getting tempermental once they've had a couple years to age.
So let's hear from some of you creative folks. I'll keep checking back here, so even if you get an idea way down the road it'll still get read. Then, if it winds up being something I can use, when the housewarming party rolls around you just might get to see how your idea worked out!
Oh, and random late replies to the previous post: Kitsumi--it's in the area we were talking about, yeah...next time you're travelling, stop by to see! Oct--I've decided I'm tired of one-sided compromises, rent feeling very much like just such a thing...I want my own place where I can damn well do what I want to it and not have to give it up at the end of a contract! Jen--sure thing, just be patient while I work on the place! Wordflinger--I'll supply the scotch, but you'd best bring the SPF45 if you wanna picnic on mah desert dirtfarm. And Phil, congrats on leaving the AOL fold. :D
Good: The peonies I potted for my eventual garden have started sprouting! And Dawg's still doing well, still trying to figure out how to play with dogtoys.
Bad: I'd left my Heliotropium arborescens in a sunny spot where I thought it'd get plenty of water; it didn't, and died (this is one plant I'd have to keep away from equine reach, yes). :/ And I don't have an infinite budget for all the cool stuff I keep finding. Oh yeah, still not king--but I'll have my own castle soon!
Then she told me she had some gum
It sounded like she'd chewed it once before...
Phase 1 of my house plans, as mentioned previously, will essentially be a studio apartment I can have built relatively quickly and live in, at which point I'm free to take my time with the remainder of the place. I've pretty much settled on the Queen Anne/Gothic Revival styles of Victorian architecture for inspiration, with Phase 1 making use of plank hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, ceramic/clay/stone tiling in the kitchenette and bathroom, molding for the ceiling, and waitscots in at least some areas--and goshdarnit, I will have a clawfoot tub! Most of the glass will be on the north-facing wall, and a second-floor porch will permit views of the river, sunsets, and the eventual horse paddock and garden (which I'll try planning somewhat intelligently). Once the rest of the house is habitable, the apartment will wind up becoming a combination guest suite, entertainment/party room, art/photo/music studio, and general retreat.
Now, here's how you, gentle reader, can assist in my little project, and how my architect's delay suddenly becomes beneficial. What're some of the things you find really annoying, frequently lacking, or would just plain like to see in a house? All thoughts and suggestions welcomed, no matter how trivial! Me, I find most places lack enough storage. By way of starting things off, I feel kitchen storage should be drawers for the most part in any areas lower than the counter, since low cabinets aren't really easy to use. Or as another example, why don't bathrooms ever have a storage place for those icky toilet-cleaning implements, instead of leaving people to keep them out in the open right next to the water closet? I also can't stand sliding patio doors, since they usually wind up getting tempermental once they've had a couple years to age.
So let's hear from some of you creative folks. I'll keep checking back here, so even if you get an idea way down the road it'll still get read. Then, if it winds up being something I can use, when the housewarming party rolls around you just might get to see how your idea worked out!
Oh, and random late replies to the previous post: Kitsumi--it's in the area we were talking about, yeah...next time you're travelling, stop by to see! Oct--I've decided I'm tired of one-sided compromises, rent feeling very much like just such a thing...I want my own place where I can damn well do what I want to it and not have to give it up at the end of a contract! Jen--sure thing, just be patient while I work on the place! Wordflinger--I'll supply the scotch, but you'd best bring the SPF45 if you wanna picnic on mah desert dirtfarm. And Phil, congrats on leaving the AOL fold. :D
Good: The peonies I potted for my eventual garden have started sprouting! And Dawg's still doing well, still trying to figure out how to play with dogtoys.
Bad: I'd left my Heliotropium arborescens in a sunny spot where I thought it'd get plenty of water; it didn't, and died (this is one plant I'd have to keep away from equine reach, yes). :/ And I don't have an infinite budget for all the cool stuff I keep finding. Oh yeah, still not king--but I'll have my own castle soon!
Then she told me she had some gum
It sounded like she'd chewed it once before...
This Old Ho...
Apr. 4th, 2003 10:43 pmBusybusy lately! I'm now the proud owner of a 2.2 acre lot. Not the 35 acre lot I was trying for, but still not a bad size really. Surveying is complete, so I know the proper boundaries for building setbacks and putting up fences; contracts have been signed for getting a well and pump in place, and the power company is beginning to roll, in its signature snail's gait, on getting electricity installed. Meanwhile, I'm working on the fun part of designing the floorplan for my house. Woo!
I've picked up resources on traditional European house styles and general Victoriana for inspiration and blatant plagiarism, been searching for more info on historical construction methods, and have various ideas of various quality scribbled out on various scraps of paper and AutoCAD files. Since I'll be building out-of-pocket, construction will by necessity go in phases. This means the part built first will be essentially an apartment of its own, so I can be living in it while working on the remainder; this makes the entirety of the design interesting for trying to keep a flow, since both phases will be designed as independent entities--I have to consider the final use for the various parts so they come together as a whole.
Then there'll be layout of the rest of the property to be considered. Gotta be lotsa enclosed grass for Dawg to scamper around in, naturally. Layout of the barn and paddocks will depend on prevailing winds, and again keeping a natural flow to the whole place will play a part in what goes where. It'll be a slow and gradual process, with lots of headaches involved of course, but I'm pretty stoked that the whole thing has finally started rolling. And it certainly won't be giving me much time to waste online. A decent trade-off though, I think. :D Friends are all invited to the housewarming when it finally happens, naturally.
Stay tuned--but don't hold your collective breath for frequent updates. ;)
(Oh, and the subject line above comes from when old roomies were channel-surfing, and the program listing on cable truncated the title of This Old House. No, the crazy lady from a previous post didn't turn up again.)
I've picked up resources on traditional European house styles and general Victoriana for inspiration and blatant plagiarism, been searching for more info on historical construction methods, and have various ideas of various quality scribbled out on various scraps of paper and AutoCAD files. Since I'll be building out-of-pocket, construction will by necessity go in phases. This means the part built first will be essentially an apartment of its own, so I can be living in it while working on the remainder; this makes the entirety of the design interesting for trying to keep a flow, since both phases will be designed as independent entities--I have to consider the final use for the various parts so they come together as a whole.
Then there'll be layout of the rest of the property to be considered. Gotta be lotsa enclosed grass for Dawg to scamper around in, naturally. Layout of the barn and paddocks will depend on prevailing winds, and again keeping a natural flow to the whole place will play a part in what goes where. It'll be a slow and gradual process, with lots of headaches involved of course, but I'm pretty stoked that the whole thing has finally started rolling. And it certainly won't be giving me much time to waste online. A decent trade-off though, I think. :D Friends are all invited to the housewarming when it finally happens, naturally.
Stay tuned--but don't hold your collective breath for frequent updates. ;)
(Oh, and the subject line above comes from when old roomies were channel-surfing, and the program listing on cable truncated the title of This Old House. No, the crazy lady from a previous post didn't turn up again.)
Yes, I'm still around. No, I'm not making locked entries. I've mainly been busy with school, work, house-hunting; and the 802.11b-based ISP I've been trying has been pretty much sucking, down more often than not. This means little online time for me overall, and hence not much in the way of LJ entries or hanging around chatting online like I used to do.
But I wanted to pop on long enough to make a comment I should've made long ago: the "Friends" category is Live Journal's, not mine. I used to just bookmark the journals of those whom I wished to keep up on, and go to their journal every so often to catch up on them. There're some with whom I still prefer to do this.
I eventually started using my "Friends" link as a way of catching up with several folks at once. Some folks may post so often, or so verbosely--or for whatever other reason cause me to prefer reading their journals seperately, rather than mixed with others'. Yet other folks may use their journals primarily for quizzes, surveys, and other trivialities which I consider more to be background noise than actual substance that even though I may still consider them otherwise to be friends, or at least interesting to talk to, I generally don't tend to read their journals at all.
And since I currently have no friends-locked entries anyway, it's not like anybody's missing anything by not being in my "Friends" list.
So, my "Friends" list has little to do with what I think of you as a person, despite the label LJ gave that grouping. Now that I've explained it, anyone who wishes to feel offended at being on my "Friends" list or not--and it's likely to fluctuate over time--are free to do so. But don't expect much sympathy.
Meanwhile, hullo to all those who do read my vapid tripe! :) I'll try to put up something interesting one of these times.
Good: In-N-Out burgers, Dawg, mutual wuv, crazy Finnish heavy metal cello quartets.
Bad: Actually, nothing's coming to mind. I'll work on it, I promise!
But I wanted to pop on long enough to make a comment I should've made long ago: the "Friends" category is Live Journal's, not mine. I used to just bookmark the journals of those whom I wished to keep up on, and go to their journal every so often to catch up on them. There're some with whom I still prefer to do this.
I eventually started using my "Friends" link as a way of catching up with several folks at once. Some folks may post so often, or so verbosely--or for whatever other reason cause me to prefer reading their journals seperately, rather than mixed with others'. Yet other folks may use their journals primarily for quizzes, surveys, and other trivialities which I consider more to be background noise than actual substance that even though I may still consider them otherwise to be friends, or at least interesting to talk to, I generally don't tend to read their journals at all.
And since I currently have no friends-locked entries anyway, it's not like anybody's missing anything by not being in my "Friends" list.
So, my "Friends" list has little to do with what I think of you as a person, despite the label LJ gave that grouping. Now that I've explained it, anyone who wishes to feel offended at being on my "Friends" list or not--and it's likely to fluctuate over time--are free to do so. But don't expect much sympathy.
Meanwhile, hullo to all those who do read my vapid tripe! :) I'll try to put up something interesting one of these times.
Good: In-N-Out burgers, Dawg, mutual wuv, crazy Finnish heavy metal cello quartets.
Bad: Actually, nothing's coming to mind. I'll work on it, I promise!
