Heartrate

So...
After the snow abated a bit the roads were snowless, so I drove to the Queen Anne Starbucks for a tall drip and a slice of lemon loaf. yumm.
When I embarked on the return journey to SCCC, I mentally counted my money and realized that I didn't have enough to park there.
So I went in search of a US Bank.
It wasn't till I drove halfway home again that I found a bank with a parking lot.
I'd feel a bit foolish paying for parking in order to get money to park at school.
Anyway, I got back to Capitol hill, parked the Prius in the SCCC's garage and strolled Broadway for a half-hour until class time.
The 2violin concerto sounded much better listening to it there, which is unusual.
I guess I already did the "OMG, this is crap" panic at home.

Then, today I once again dared the outside world.
This time, it was to search for a small quantity of Portland cement for the roof leak.
The theory being that if you sprinkle the stuff on the roof, the water will carry the stuff through the leak and stop it up.

That's sorta what I did with the garage leak on the Q.A. house.

I drove to three different hardware stores but they don't sell it that way any more.
There are all sorts of special mixes for specific purposes but no "just plain Portland cement".
Unless you want a 92 pound sack.
Which I just might go for.

After I got back from that debacle, M wanted to go to her sisters' place to pay back the cost of the ticket to the sewing event.

On the way there we stopped at Coulon Park for some IVAR'S fish & chips and a walk along the waterfront.

Nice day.

Sister wasn't home.

When I got back here, I decided it would be a good idea to test Fidelio and see if the repairs would work properly.
Which, with a touch of adjustment, they did.
So I'm ready to fly.

Also I wanted to get s ride in for the month, at least one a month for the year.

And I also obtained a 15 speed trail bike from a Bro-in-law that need a shakedown cruise.

So here's the specs

Distance...........................1.3 miles
Time on the trail............13 minutes
Average speed................6.4 mph
Maximum speed.............26.4 mph
Total odometer miles.....1164

Blah

The painful swelling in my ear clears up, the lethargy goes away, and I'm ready and rarin'.
So what does it do?
It snows all over me!

Not too bad though, three inches, once I get down the hill the read will be passable.
So I don't get out of school.

I was hoping to stay home and play with the dog.

But I don't have a dog.

I was hoping to get to the Roosevelt house.
The one with the leak.
I talked to my brother in law and he told me of a great trick to stop a recondite water incursion.
It's a Vee shaped house and most likely it's the overlap at the junction of the two rooves.
A common trouble spot.

Sounds like something that worked on the cracked cieling of the Queen Anne house.
With different (and cheaper) materials.

So, anyway, I spent many hours this week putting together a random selection of bits for the 2 violin concerto.
Sounded great all week untill I recorded it for class last night.

It sounded horrible!!

They always do at this stage.

Sometimes the keep right on sounding horrible.

M just took off with her sister to go to a sewing evfent of some sort.

Gone all day, took the sisters car, so I'm free.

So there you are.

Bloedel Reserve

The House


After reading a book until 5:00am Friday morning,I finally fell asleep only to be awoken a few hours later with an invitation to journey to Bainbridge island and visit the Bloedel reserve.
Invitation accepted.

It's a lovely garden on the north end of the island just before the Agate pass bridge.
And this is what some of it looks like.

The pond in front of the house


The reflecting pool

That's us down at the far end.

Now it's Saturday night and we just got back from a great show at the Rainier Symphony
Beethoven's Egmont Overture
Srrauss' Til Eulenspiegel
And Dvorak's Seventh Symphony.

Conducted by David Waltman

These guys are good and getting better.

Been a breathtaking three days.

'nother nice day

I'm gonna tell ya about it later but in the meantime, read this

Relativity


Two stones
Standing in the sea
They watch each other as the tide flows out
They watch as the tide flows in
Ebb and flow
The boats, the birds, the fish
Flow east, then west
Water rises and falls on thier skirts of seaweed
Sometimes, when the fog closes in,
And they are all alone,
They dance
Swaying ebb
Swaying flow
Bowing, swaying, reaching out for each other
Neap and flood
They dance

One of those days

One of those days when the sun, the sky, the air and the water add up to a engender a lotus like state of mind.
When just being is enough.
Light is let into the cobwebbed corners of the mind.
Illuminating an absence of demons.

Wish I could find a way to describe it.

Finally got a chance to use a Tully's gift card I got from my dentist for recommending a client.
Bought a tall drip and a pepperoni pizza bagel.
Lost five bucks on the card but gained a nice rumbling of gas.

Lucky for you, one can't post odors on one's blog site.

At least, I can't on mine.

I didn't do the usual routine today but lounged around the house 'till time to go to school.
Missed the usual walking downtown and back exercise.

But I did manage to overhear a conversation in the coffee shop which I wasn't paying much attention to until I thought I heard the words "James Joyce, your favorite"
So I deliberately eavesdropped after that.
I guessed they were discussing literature.

She used the word "epiphany" anyway.

But nothing outstanding occurred because of it.

Nothing outstanding occurred the whole day except the lotusness of it.

The green shoots creep from their underground beds, unfurl their leaves, stretch, yawn, and turn their faces to the sun.
The brave, (or foolish), ones anyway.
Forgetting all about the warnings about late frosts they were taught in seed school.
But the timid ones take their chances too,
If there's no frost, they will pop up a lap behind and be the but of short jokes.
"Hey little guy, you call that a stamen, a pistil?"
"Where'd you get those leaves, Goodwill"
Flora can be quite vicious.
Quite the poor winners.

So its a tossup isn't it.
A golden coin flickers in the sun,
Will it land heads,
Or will it land tails?

Ya never know.

Chairs, fabric, sewing machine, staples

Before and after


This is what all the stapling is all about.
Life sure gets exciting around here.

The piece formerly known as Cellocon1 is finished again.
Maybe this time it'll stick.

Started some preliminary expeditions into the musical wilderness in search of a couple violin beasties to tame.

There's no point complaining about my health, Butch has me beat on that score anyway, so I'll just bug off.

I think the chairs look nice.
Dinner tonight was home made whole wheat noodles and chicken in a very interesting sauce that featured heating coffee beans in cream to form a base.

Yeah, I know I promised to bug off.

So....bye

A Day

Started out to pile tools in the car and go to the rental to do something about the leak but firet, M wanted to drive to Auburn to pick up an air powered stapler she had ordered for the reupholstery project.
Finally found the place, picked up the tool, and headed home.
Only to find a note that she had left her wallet at the staple store.
So after we plugged the stapler in and determined that it worked, we went back to Auburn.
The tools were in the car so we headed up I-5 to the rental house which is near Northgate.

Dropped M off at a bead store and spent an hour scraping out rotted wood and resealing any place where it looked like the rain might get in.

But water leaks can be tricky and the last time this one acted up was over five years ago.
So who knows?

Later we watched "The Tailor of Panama" a John LeCarré story.

Good story.

Not so hot movie.
M continued to watch channel nine and "The Rain Man" w/ Dustin Hoffman and a bunch of Lamborghini Countachs, Ferraris and 47 Buick Roadmaster convertibles

I went up to bed due to an incipient headache.

From which slumber I was awoken my Meredith complaining of a severe pain in her side.
We ended up spending 5 hours in Virginia Mason's emergency room testing out all the disastrous possibilities and finding none.

Whew!

Probably a muscle spasm.
A lateral charley horse.

Got some muscle relaxant meds and today she's better and snapping staples as we speak.

Sunny days, Leaky days

Looked nice out today, had a rental roof leak to look at, M had the nice car, so I decided to take Cecelia.
Cool, crisp air, relatively clear skies even a bit of warmth on my back at stoplights.
The leak is still a mystery, however, I may have to cut a hole in the ceiling to find it.
Actually it's not new, five years ago I thought we cured it but I don't remember how, or where it was.
So I'll just go looking.
Somehow it didn't leak during our big snow but waited for a little one to start it's dripping.

Nothing more to report today.

X-ept

I see bicyclists on the road.

X-cuses

The orchestral piece formerly known as Cello Concerto is done, or at least I'm tired of listening to it, means the same thing.

X-pectation

I think I'll try a two-violin concerto next.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

X-ept means 'used to be competent'
X-cuses, no longer swear words
X-pectation means to change your exercise focus

X-planation, obviously means 'to get off a plane'
X-cathedra, means 'having changed to a single hull'
X-pert, means to 'having changed your brand of shampoo'
X-actly, having given up on a career in the theater
X-zamination, to get rid of zamins
X-hume, stop listening to Ed
X-ile, to leave an island
X-caliber, to go back to real beer
X-onnerate, to return to offerating
X-plicate
X-quire, to be out of paper
X-semplify, getting Aimee McPherson out of your life
X-empt, having been thrown out of a Seattle rock museum
X-tent, to come home from a camping trip
X-tant, you're out of tants

X-etera

Explications and factifications 'round his explanations of his "feelings"

Last Wednesday while watching a tribute to George Carlin, they ran a clip of his take on post traumatic stress syndrome.
The theme of the bit was the euphemism.
WW1 called it "shell shock".
WW2 called it "battle fatigue"
Korea it was ummm. "mission fatigue" (sic)
Anyway now they're calling it "post traumatic stress syndrome"

The punchline was "maybe if they still called it "shell shock" we could get some care for the soldiers who suffer it".

This brought tears to my eyes and I was almost sobbing.
Even though I've never suffered anything like it and have no need of any kind of care or support.

But then, on thinking about my historical reading, I remembered that in WW1 it was often just called "cowardice" and the cure was shooting.
Even after the war, many of these "cowards" were tried an sentenced to death.

It was WW2 that saw the last "coward" shot.

And now, in the latest New Yorker I read an article about tinnitus.
Tinnitus is a ringing in the ears, often caused by exposure to loud noises.
Rock stars get it.
Heavy equipment operators get it.

The Army now considers it a disability.

So George, brilliant as he is, is full of shit.

And my reaction was totally inappropriate.

A similar thing happened while watching a DVD about Saint Pete Seegar and his mission to get folks together for the healing of the worlds self inflicted wounds.
Yeah though he healed the Hudson river, we still managed to have the Bush years.
So, community for the good of humanity is just as ineffective as...as...well, prayer.

A musical weekend, this last.
Simple Measures at the Chapel on Fri.
A good show, a bit over priced.
Meredith was trying not to like it but enjoyed the music nontheless.
The guitarist, notwithstanding his obvious talent, was not Jimi Hendrix.
Jimi Hendrix did not have bar lines in his music.

Then Saturday, we watched the Pete Seegar DVD, wherein I experienced some of those "feeling" thingies mainly when I heard Joan Baez's voice and Bob Dylan's raw earthy sound.
Taking me back to my salad days in LA where I was a hobo-class itinerant wrench for an auto repair shop.
There was no dressing on that salad.

Sunday We visited a social highland neighborhood of Seattle for a performance of the Philharmonia Northwest's orchestra.

Brahm's piano concerto and Beethoven's eighth symphony.

The Brahms was loud ameliorated by even more loud.
I don't especially like Brahms, it's all a bit too mushy for me.
Too much like he was writing solely for the purpose of not being Beethoven.
Which is pretty much like writing music without writing music.

Something I can do accidentally.

The Beethoven was Beethoven, soft, loud, sweet, silly, bombastic, subtle, ridiculous,
profound, all repeated in every bar.

Then, later that same day, at the book group meeting, we discussed the movie "Lars and the real girl" wherein Lars cures his post traumatic stress syndrome and that of his entire community by encouraging all to play with dolls.

The movie was good, the discussion was good, the food was good, and I remembered to bring the chips and beer.
Although every body in the group drinks wine.
I've got nothing against wine, I just feel it incumbent on me to honor my blue-collarness with the appropriate libation.

And also use high flying rhetoric to try to distance myself from that social position.

See ya later, pal.

Ma non troppo

More about feelings

I've been getting a little flak from some of my readers about my statement "I don't do feelings"
In the first place, I never said I don't occasionally suffer the damn things.
I think of them as pets or pests, or the weather, or bowel movements, or some other form of disease.
Nothing you can do about them but ignore them.

They are of no practical value.
And almost always misplaced and useful (if useful is the appropriate word here) only for crowd control.
I like to stay away from crowds.

Unless it's a party.

As to separating "us" from the "animals", I would like to point out that the animals let their lives be ruled by their "feelings" and "emotions".
I mean, Fido, the damn vacuum cleaner does nothing to you except make noise.
But you whimper and hide.
Yet you still chase after itinerant automobiles often getting your ass kicked in the process.
You could even say that vegetables have feelings too.
If you prick a tree, does it not bleed.

Sometimes something sweet you can pour on a pancake.

The prime difference between us is intellect.
Which is the ability to ignore our little chemical imbalances and act rationally.

In other words it's the over-sized brain that allows to be "cool".
To chill out and step on the fuse rather than hiding under the bed.

Intelligence is also good for figuring out ways to screw each other out of stuff.

Or how to trick an animal into becoming food.

Or tricking the law into supporting excess prices on "recreational drugs" enough to buy politicians with the profits and protect the industry from the law.

By manipulating the feelings of the less intelligent masses.

But, mainly, intellect is used as for fantasy generation.

Fantastic things like "Faith" "Hope" "The Future" "Law and Order" "Justice" "God Told Me" "Fair Play" "I can Quit any Time" "Somebody is Interested in Reading This Crap"

My Flute concerto is about a flute, having suffered embarrassment, angrily retreating
into a manufactured fantasy world, cutting itself off from the realities of life on this this beautiful scumbag of a planet.

It ends on a note of success, leaving one to wonder if that success is not a profound and pathetic failure.

So, no, I don't do feelings.

Just one of my many sacrifices for the good of humanity.

Your Symphony wears combat boots.

Went to a nice concert in a church Saturday.
Heard a Sibelius violin concerto played very nicely by a student.
She was accompanied by the Thalia orchestra.

Pronounced "They LIE ya" like you were talking about the government.

They also played a Howard Hanson symphony.
The conductor advised us to let ourselves go and feel the emotion of the piece.
The closest I could come to feeling anything was when the percussion section, mainly the big bass drum, was pounding away.
I felt a little like stomping something.
Or pounding on my chest.

Ma non troppo.

I don't do feelings.

H. Hanson is one of the founts of Hollywood movie music. even if you don't know it, you've heard it before.
John Williams drinks from that fount.
Deeply.
As Prof Pete Schikele defines the similarity between the two;

The name of the similarity is "identity"

Then I helped schlep stuff to clean out a room for a guest who will be staying with us for a week or so.
Cramped up my back, as per usual.
Amazing amount of dust can settle on stuff in a mere 6 years.

And then...

and then....

I don't know what then...

Along came Jones, I guess...


I don't want to write any more