Zoom w a View: Chicago street scenes Pt 3

Last Thursday was a rainy day in The Windy City but, wet feet and all, I walked north from the Hilton, on Michigan Ave., to Millenium Park.


It was only a few blocks away and certainly worth the price of admission! (Free).


Though clouds hid the sky, the Cloud Gate reflected interesting images from every angle.

Google ‘images’ of chicago millenium park for a million or more views.


Absolutely amazing. (And also free).

***

Kathleen, a frequent flyer at my site, mentions her $100 Chicago vacation in an earlier comment.

Can you beat that?

.

Zoom w a View: Chicago street scenes Pt 2

Don’t visit any major city without a camera... its history sits on every corner.


Or rides, if you’re in Chicago.


Chicago is one of my favourite US cities, the Black Hawks one of my favourite teams.

[Speaking of the Hawks: While chatting with an employee of the Hilton who sees many famous people walk through his hotel’s front lobby, I shared a story about how I almost knocked Bobby Hull’s head off during a baseball game.

“I was at bat, taking practice swings, and saw Bobby, a childhood idol of mine, sitting in a lawn chair beside my hockey coach.”

“I experienced a major adrenalin rush and put the first pitch over the left field scoreboard, slightly foul, the longest hit of my life. I hit every bit of the second pitch in a straight line over Bobby’s head - and if he hadn’t fallen back in his chair he would have been a goner.”

“After the game he said something to me about my swing when I asked him for his autograph.”]


["I saw one Black Hawk": photos by GAH]

I saw one Black Hawk, but Bobby was no where to be found. He keeps his head down when I come to town.

***

Have you been to Chicago? Have a favourite memory?

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Aliens not allowed on Chicago buses

A friend and I took a whirlwind trip to Chicago this week (from Wednesday morning to Fri. evening) and much excitement ensued.

For example, I was yelled at while crossing the border into the U.S.

"So, you knew about the need to bring a passport but you hand me just your driver's license? Who do you think you are?" demanded the border guard.


["Get off the bus!": photo GAH]

After receiving the verbal spanking I continued the 650 km. trip to one of the most beautiful cities in America, home of my favourite marathons (which I may run again some day - my comeback is underway), great music, art, scenery, food and so much more, along with highly regulated buses.

No space aliens allowed.

***

I just took a cab when necessary.

.

Zoom w a View: Pond Mills - close to the water

While visiting Pond Mills yesterday by bicycle I was tempted to cool off in two locations.


The pelican just missed!

Would they mind if I took a dip?


In the past, I jogged around the ponds during long runs.

Now I go by bike. Easier on the knees.

.

It Strikes Me Funny: I score a shut out at Nova Lisboa, but not Pond Mills

A friend popped over yesterday while I was painting and invited me to Chicago for the next two days.

I couldn’t refuse - Chicago is in my ‘Top Five Cities’ list.

However, I felt time compress quickly. I had much to do before departure time (32 minutes and counting).

I had to see a green grocer about a job - she wants 10 wooden crates in which to display groceries. I gave her a price, she gave me more work for my wee shop.

I then had to bicycle to a far off subdivision, as research for my next column, re ‘what makes a neighbourhood a neighbourhood?’

Using directions provided by a reader I parked my bike at a small plaza near the centre of Pond Mills and surveyed the land.


If I had been extra hungry I would have been out of luck. The buffet was a good price at Nova Lisboa but as I looked through the window I noticed no one was at home... or at restaurant. It’s closed on Tuesdays.


Down the street I stopped to ask a fellow busy washing his car how old the neighbourhood was. Surprisingly, I knew the man. He is the father of one of my youngest son’s close friends.

Because he couldn’t answer my question he asked his neighbour. I knew the man and his wife as well, for Pete’s sake. I taught with the wife in 1974 - 75, the year they bought the model home on that street. So, they knew the precise answer to my question and pointed out a few more highlights in the area.

It was a quick but interesting ride.

I’ll write a draft while sipping coffee on Michigan Ave. in about 6 hours.

***

Small world, eh?

Bumped into old friends lately?

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Prose: backpack canoe, more than a trilogy part 2 - ‘first day out’

Backgrounder: “The first day in the canoes tired me out. I was so happy to reach dry land, set up the tent and eat supper. The bottle of brandy I brought, to mix with my evening tea, relaxed every muscle in my body.” gaharrison

first day out

... continued (please see previous post)

now, tents and tarps
next, collect dry wood
soon, our first fire warms
a weary crew and
lends a snapping orange light
to friendly faces
brandy in their tea.

supper on a Coleman stove
steam and rice and stew
open fire with wire racks
assembled pans, bubbling pots
for lean cuisine and cornish hens.
under yards of canvas
my simple chow, piping hot
in a metal bowl,
is a king’s delight.


[Photo GAH]

after five hours of
push and pull and carry
weary bodies relax
on stumps for chairs
and look at tomorrow’s plan -
take morning dips, tie towel lines
explore coves, sail canoes
write journals and read novels.
easy routines, short naps
and deep sleeps at end of day.

gah

.

Gord’s Little Workshop: Adirondack chair from aromatic cedar

Something really exciting happened while I sanded and cut wood yesterday.

Now, when I say exciting, I do mean exciting, but strictly from my point of view.

[If you’re 17 years old and have a hot car, or are eating the best pizza ever or are skiing downhill at breakneck speed right now without a helmet, then my story might sound pretty lame in comparison. It might, but I doubt it.]

After sanding 100 cedar pieces for five Rietveld chairs yesterday, I cut into the scrap lumber my neighbour was going to toss and it turned out to be aromatic cedar.


["Aromatic cedar, I tell you!": photo GAH]

Aromatic cedar, I tell you - saved from a fire or the scrap heap of life to become an Adirondack chair.

And for the rest of my life, every time I sit in it I’ll breathe deeply and say, “Ahhh. You’re a lovely smelling chair.”

Ain’t that exciting?

***

Can you beat that for excitement?

.

Prose: backpack canoe, more than a trilogy part 2 - ‘first day out’

Backgrounder: “Somewhere near the middle of North Tea Lake, while sitting in canoes rented from “No Way Out Adventures”, our group of canoes stopped so that weary occupants, myself among them, could take a welcome break. Black licorice sticks never tasted sweeter. My shoulders had never been so sore or hot to the touch. It all seemed worth it an hour later when on dry land.” gaharrison

first day out

breakfast, fresh at “no way out”
equal parts stiff cool breeze
and soft-boiled eggs
the mosquitoes thankfully took a break.
large loads of freight
every item precious
bring anxious smiles as canoes,
sitting much lower in the water now,
jockey heavily at the gate.
the first energetic push,
past lily pads
and long snake grass,
stretches every muscle
through endless twists and turns
to the first portage.


lunches and black licorice
quickly unpacked, are eaten
on a small outcrop of rock
backs are hunched ‘gainst
a cold wet wind.
with white caps to fight
all heads are down
hot spots tear at tired shoulders
from the hard grip on paddles.
but slowly we draw closer
to our island home
wild point of rock and pine.

... to be continued

gah

***

more prose and lyrics at hit songs by G. Harrison

.

Would you pay 5 cents for a plastic bag?

I hope the answer is no.

When a cashier tells a customer that plastic grocery bags now cost a nickel, I hope most people will say, “Let me buy a reusable one.”

People might say, “I’ll just put my items in this cardboard box I keep in the trunk.”

Or, “I’ll just carry this item under my arm. It’s a can of deodorant, after all.”

Five cents might seem cheaper at the moment but in the long run it is not.

Coincidentally, I’m happy to report that as I’ve heard cashiers share this news (re the 5 cent cost for plastic) at our local grocery store and at the beer store a few blocks away, no one has complained.

Not one little whine! Not one shot has been fired!

***

How do you see or handle the plastic bag situation?

.

Gathering on the Green smells like a hot dog

Next year I'm going to sell hotdogs. I’ll make a fortune.

On Saturday I took my birdhouses on the road to ‘Gathering on the Green’, a neighbourhood event, with music, crafts, tea gardens, great smelling hotdogs and more, held one block from my front door.

Hundreds filled the park - and their faces - and dozens visited my birdhouse table.

What did I learn?


["One boy looks at birdhouses, 300 at hot dogs!": photo GAH]

Some crafts and plants sell well, my birdhouses are more popular than my other projects... but hot dogs for a buck out sell them all.

Next year I’ll sell birdhouses and weenies!

Buy a house and the sauerkraut is free!

Mister, want some mustard with that birdhouse?

***

Okay, it could get kinda hectic but I’ll work on the details.

.

A hockey player asks me, how green is my motorcycle?

It was a good question - from a guy we call Sid on a 50-plus squad.

[Not the real Sid. He’s tied up at the moment, and is too young to play for us anyway. And can you see the real Sid chipping in 12 bucks a week to play with guys who take three days to skate to one end of the rink and back? Didn’t think so].

While two of my teammates and I were chatting about motorcycles before a recent game another fellow said, “Gord, you write about the simple life, going green but drive a car and a motorcycle. How does that help the environment?”

I was ready with an answer because the same question is on my mind every time I start up my bike.

I told him I don't think any vehicles really help the environment.

Then I said, "I also have a 12-speed bicycle, that makes three things, but, in my opinion, I have a fairly limited use for each one."


["A Miele - one of my summer rides": photo GAH]

"The bicycle is for around Wortley Village and a bit beyond."

"The Honda Civic is, for the most part, used for important errands or family trips. After three and a half years it has around 40,000 km. on the odometer." (7,200 miles per year)

"It's essentially my wife’s car because she uses it 5 - 6 days per week. I drive it once per week to the hockey game, not much else."

Then I said (in a blatant attempt to secure more readers), “The last time I drove it more than 10 km. was last week. I drove to Whitehills (a neighbourhood in north-west London) to do research for a column, parked it under a tree, and walked 3 - 4 km. to buy some cherry tomato plants for the garden. In the summer, the motorcycle is my chief ride, and over the last five years I’ve averaged about 5,000 km. per year. All together, I think I drive a fair bit less than others (several guys agreed), and try to save up my travel miles for the motorcycle.”

The fellow who asked the earlier question seemed pretty satisfied I was doing my bit for the planet.

I hope he didn’t mind when I chipped a wrist shot off his helmet during the game.

***

Hey, I’m kidding about the shot off the head. (It was his knee).

Still kidding!

Are you consciously trying to keep your miles down low?

.

Coffee and the Art of Motorcycle Bonding

One full week with a new used bike - only two short rides.

I’ve got to do better than that or else my motorcycle and I will never be a team... and we need to be a good team if I want to ride to Temagami for camping or Halifax to fulfill a promise - in style and safety.

But things conspire to keep me home.

There are many woodworking projects, a craft sale on Saturday and frequent poor weather.

As well, grandson Ollie and I get along so well now, I hate to leave him behind.

He visits my workshop almost daily and cried yesterday when he saw me warming up my bike.

“No motorcycle, Papa,” he said. “Stay in shed.”

Fortunately, he settled for a nap and after he snuggled into my side of the bed I disappeared out the back door with coffee money and headed toward one of my favourite nearby towns - St. Marys, or Stonetown.


["St. Marys, or Stonetown": photo GAH]

Over coffee I reflected:

- The bike rides like a charm

- It’s certainly ready for a 2,100 km. trip to Halifax

- Temagami, closer to home, would be an excellent first long ride

- After only a few more short rides - to attune myself to the machine’s heft, sounds and rhythms - I’m pretty sure I’ll be fully comfortable

- Know the machine, stay within its limits and your own

- Adjust the shifter pedal upward, slightly

***

I’ll let you know when Temagami is a go.

I’ve never been, so anticipation will run high.

.

Prose: This one takes me a long way back

In an ongoing effort to put all of my song lyrics, poetry and prose in one place, get discovered and make a million dollars (the price of a decent cup of coffee works for me as well) I dragged ‘backpack canoe’ out of the closet.

If it was in three parts I’d call it a trilogy from North Tea Lake, Algonquin Park, northern Ontario, circa 1993.

But it’s in four parts, and it’s old, so I can only call it dusty.


Here’s part one of backpack canoe, entitled ‘anticipation’:

gotta hit the johnny cash
gotta hit the road

with a heavy nylon backpack -
every pocket full
tightly zippered shut
stashing plastic jars
spices, syrup, porridge,
rice, pop-tarts and pasta
hungry-man size only
a five day supply

gotta hit the johnny cash
gotta hit the road

with a twelve foot canoe of cedar -
both ends snugged down
with yellow nylon lines
honda stuffed front and back
pointing north to Sundridge
five hours to Algonquin
adventure at North Tea awaits

money quick at johnny cash
gotta hit the road

gah

***

two FYIs - years ago, cash machines were called johnny cash machines, and more prose and hit singles can be found at my other blog.

http://hitsinglesbygharrison.blogspot.com/

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I’m going to have to become a better multi-tasker

It’s summer time, my motorcycle is calling my name (“Okay, I’m coming”), I have five chairs needing my attention in the shop (“Okay, okay, I’ll be right there”) , a desire to build four more for the backyard, my weekly column is growing legs - and I can’t keep up.

Motorcycling and chairs I can handle. (“Chairs this morning, riding this afternoon. Now be quiet. I’m typing”).


["This is what the five chairs look like now": photo GAH]

For the new legs under my column, however, I may need a secretary.

After writing and bragging about The Village’s positive features (my neighbourhood receives 1,412 thumbs up... and counting) and spotlighting a few interesting features of another part of town, my inbox has been ringing off the hook, so to speak.

I’ve heard from passionate residents from four other parts of town and it looks like a summer series has been born.

But I’m not ready to be a Daddy.

I didn’t expect the new legs. I wanted to ride.

Yeah, yeah - and sand and stain chairs by a June 18th deadline.


["More scrap lumber = chair #6": photo GAH]

Calling all secretaries!

***

Maybe I can visit new (to me) parts of town on my motorcycle before heading off to the lake.

Any other tips? Be careful - I might quote you on this.

.

I’m ahead of the June 18th deadline - but the sun is shining

The job - two Rietveld deck chairs by Thursday, June 18.

Materials - white cedar, light blue stain.

Progress - I'm way ahead of schedule.

Yesterday, after adding a bit of detail to a dozen birdhouses in preparation for Saturday’s sale on The Village green, I noticed the sun was shining on my work deck outside the workshop door next to the garden.


["Outside the workshop door the sun was shining": photo GAH]

Time to cut lumber for chairs, I thought.

I counted the cedar cut offs I had, figured there were enough for six chairs if I was careful, and selected 75 pieces, ample for five comfortable chairs - two for the deadline, one for my starving-artist brother, and two for my own deck or yard.

By 6:30 p.m. the 75 cut offs were ripped to the proper width, the neighbourhood smelled like a cedar sawmill and I was covered in fine dust from head to foot.

As I swept up I felt I could have all five done by the weekend, about two weeks ahead of schedule.

Drat! I sneezed, shook off a thick cloud of dust and had to start sweeping all over again.

Then I noticed my motorcycle’s front tire peeking out from under a tarp and catching rays from the setting sun.

I thought, if tomorrow is nice we should do a bit more bonding, you and I.


["A ride to Pt. Bruce - bonding time": photo GAH]

And now, as I sip my first coffee of the new day I notice the sun is bright and warm.

I bet two chairs can still be finished by Monday, way ahead of June 18.

***

A little flexibility is important, isn’t it?

.

Zoom w a View: From flotsam to birdhouses

If only I had a tractor, chains, winch, trailer, strong back and the time. And a 4,000 acre farm.

[Please see the previous post for context].

Lovely tables would fill my shop if I could get the log below, and dozens of others, home safely.


These bits of flotsam I can handle.


Some birdhouses look better with a touch of trim or something from my ‘odds and ends’ drawer.


.

Free flotsam at Pt. Bruce pays my motorcycle’s gas bill

I always have my eye open for a deal.

In fact, my middle name should be ‘The man with one eye open.’

Gordon Arthur The man with one eye open Harrison. Totally appropriate.

While at Port Bruce yesterday I saw several pieces of wood thrown up on the beach that could be used in so many projects - if only I had a tractor, chains, winch, trailer, strong back and the time.


["Flotsam looked like a wing": photo GAH]

[I have the time, but, the other five items... no. And if I pick up free lumber wherever I see it I’d soon need to live on a 4,000 acre farm somewhere far from Wortley Village, and I can’t see myself moving too far from my favourite coffee shops. Sorry, I digress].

But, not wanting to leave without something for my workshop I picked up two pieces I knew I could use - and pick up without falling over.

One piece of flotsam looked like the wing of a bird and will become a birdhouse perch. Another will become perches as well, after I cut it in half, straight down the middle.

And when I sell the birdhouses, for big bucks, with a card that says ‘a touch of Pt. Bruce’, yesterday’s motorcycle ride will have been free.


["A touch of Pt. Bruce": photo GAH]

Except for the fries.

***

Picked up any flotsam lately? A bit of jetsam?

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Coulda shoulda listened to my wife

While taking my new used Virago for our first two-hour journey together (we have to do a bit of bonding before I can say it’s my favourite bike in the entire universe) the fresh breeze found its way through every article of my clothing and cooled me to the bone.


["We have to do a bit of bonding": photo GAH]

Sure, I’ll survive. And my wife has been kind enough not to remind me that she told me I should wear longjohns before I left.

“The wind is colder than you think,” she said.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

By the time I was two miles out of town I knew I wouldn’t be fine.

I thought, shoulda listened to your wife, Gordie. Coulda. You’d better steer toward a diner for coffee.

And I did. And the hot coffee and refill warmed me up. And tasted great.

And the 30 minute stop gave me time to jot down several ideas under the heading ‘what to do with 3 ft. long pieces of cedar posts that arrived last night.’

An hour later, after one more stop in Port Bruce to warm up my bones, I turned around and headed into the wind and toward home.


["Chilly day at Port Bruce": photo GAH]

Though my hands were like bricks by the time I got home they’ll be warm enough to undo the lock to my workshop in a few more minutes. [Cedar posts equal birdhouses and bowls].

Next time my wife mentions longjohns they’ll be hiding under my jeans.

***

Have you been in a coulda shoulda situation recently?

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It’s funny how things work out sometimes

Dear Lisa,

When I met you the first time, I thought, you look like a person with a fine sense of humor.

So you’ll find this funny, I’m sure.

After you stopped in at my recent birdhouse sale and saw my version of the Rietveld chair on the front lawn, you not only bought a birdhouse (and a couple of other things - you're so generous with your money too) but later ordered two chairs, and I’m completely happy about those transactions.


["Gord's version of the Rietveld crate chair, circa 1937": photo GAH]

Well, the lumber is here for the chairs, all my tools are prepped, your deadline for chairs is 3 weeks away - I don’t feel rushed at all - and the weather is perfect for working in my shop, and for taking the occasional break to tend my garden right outside the shop door.

But a funny thing has happened.

Two days ago, while purchasing a can of oil and a filter for my 1984 Yamaha motorcycle, I just happened to spot - out of the ever-watchful corner of my eye - a glistening newer version of my bike, a 1994 model with even fewer miles on it than mine, and the price was definitely right... and guess what?

Oh, yeah. I bought it all right. (Birdhouse season has been good to me. And add in the chairs... you get my drift.)


["The 'new' 1994 Yamaha Virago": photo GAH]

The bike runs so well, and the weather is... well, you already know about the weather.

So, I may be asking for an extension on that deadline. And it’s the first time I’ve ever felt I’ve had to do that.

Funny, eh?

Cheers,

Gord

PS Lisa, if you hear a bike zipping past your place in about two minutes, that will be me.

***

Is it any wonder there are days I don't get much done around here?

.

I’m caught in the circa circa circuit

I finished my last birdhouse for the season recently (unless someone says, “I’ll buy the lot - and 20 more.” Then I’ll build 20 more).


["A J.R. knock-off": photo GAH]

The last one was a knock-off of a J.R. Davidson model, circa 1945, and while selling a few houses recently from a display on my front lawn, a client asked a question that has led to more work in the wee shed.

[I say 'client' because it makes me sound like a working professional - and I was hoping she'd buy something!]

Lisa asked, “Is your chair for sale?”

Why yes it is, I thought. I can make more. My scrap lumber pile is pretty high right now. Got a million dollars?


["My version of a crate chair, circa 1937": photo GAH]

I said, “Yes, I’d sell it.”

She asked how much and I gave a price and she said that if I was selling them in the Muskokas I’d make a fortune and, though I liked the sound of that, I don’t want to be a large scale builder.

[Really. My shop would get too dusty. My motorcycle would sit idle too often. My mind and body would rebel at the prospect of too much work. I'd whine. I’d get tired and have to sit down and if I sold my chair I’d be right out of luck. I'd whine some more.]

Lisa liked the price and design (my version of a G. Rietveld crate chair, circa 1937) and subsequently placed an order for a matching pair.

She lives in the neighbourhood, circa 1930, and believes they’ll look great on her porch.

As for me, circa 1949, I have to agree with her.

Busy times ahead in the workshop.

***

Click here for photos and auction prices of Rietveld chairs.

How much should I charge for mine?

Is a million bucks a bit too high?

.

Ollie never misses when he pees in my garden

Grandson Ollie visited my workshop yesterday on one of the busiest days of the year.

In fact, when we took a break and walked to The Village for a coffee and freezie pop I told a Roaster regular I was busy busy and couldn’t stop to chat.

[After several weeks of preparing birdhouses for a local craft sale (Gathering on the Green, June 6th; US and UK visitors - 10% off; book your flights now) the shop needed a good clean out. Dust was to the ceiling but I kept at it until the place shone like new. And though my vacuum sucked two palm chisels out of a rack (note to self - don’t toss the dust until you sift the contents) I can breathe again - and I found my car keys!]


["US and UK visitors - 10% off": photo GAH]

The shop is now so tidy grandson Ollie has claimed it as his playhouse.

He enjoys sweeping the floor with a small broom, rearranging scraps of wood in my outbox and running in and out dozens of times with a supply of energy as great as my supply of scrap lumber.

My two and a half year old mate has visited so often lately I can now tell when he has to pee. And busy or not, his training is more important than finishing my screen door project.

So, out we go to the wooden walkway (neatly swept) at the edge of the garden, strike the pose, and before you can say Pepto Bismol he’s watered my Brussel sprouts.


["This way to the Brssel sprouts": photo GAH]

Sometimes he waters his running shoes at the same time - but he’s young yet.

And though I know he’ll soon get the hang of it I worry a bit about my sprouts.

Fortunately, harvest time is a long way off.

***

In case you’re wondering, the answer is no. I don’t pee in the garden.

Behind the blue spruce? That’s another matter.

.

Zoom w a View: Rustic birdhouses from Gord's wee workshop

Besides building knock-offs of the J. R. Davidson design (circa 1945; see post below, then top photo in right-hand margin) I’ve come up with a few of my own.

Anyone who has been inside my wee shop will think, I bet they'll be tiny... made from scrap lumber... and dusty.

Oh, they'd be so wrong.

Okay, my birdhouses are usually small but so are the tenants.

Made from scrap? Certainly - that's rule number one.


["Watch your fingers while making narrow cuts e.g. roof planks": photo GAH]

Dusty? I admit, I get dusty (I'm a bit crusty too sometimes - until laundry day) but dusty is such a relative term.

I'd rather say the birdhouses are bits of wood craft.

(Maybe even on their way to becoming folk art, sought after by enthusiasts willing to pay any price!! Sorry, I digress).

Definitely rustic.


I say rustic because the faces are made from century old barnboard, and I definitely grew more gray hair while cutting thin strips of roofing material on my table saw.

[Always make sure you know where your fingers are, and raise the saw blade only about 1/16 inch higher than the wood you’re cutting. Always).

Time well spent? Hopefully, a few birds will think so.

***

Do you have a birdhouse in your yard?

I’d like to see a photo, if you have time to send one along.

.

I googled 'birdhouses' - so I'll be busy for awhile

Two weeks ago, while showing my sister-in-law a few of my brilliant birdhouse designs, she and I came to the conclusion that I should write a book about my journey through the land of scrap lumber and feathered friends.

Interesting book titles followed on the tail of our brief discussion.

Build It And They Will Nest

Birdhouses, Scrap Lumber and a Long Learning Curve

Yes, It's Me Under All The Sawdust

Then I thought, maybe I should look for a few other designs so I look like I actually know what I'm doing.

So, I googled 'birdhouses.'

My gosh. There are millions of articles, websites, designs and images. If I made one copy of all the ones I liked I'd never leave my workshop. When I said as much to my wife she appeared delighted at the news.

Below is the favourite design I've found to date. I tip my hat to J. R. Davidson, who used teak and 1/4 inch aluminum as materials, provided a bottom clean out, circa 1945. [Click here for details]


My version of his design is at the top of the right-hand margin. Cedar scrap. Top comes off for clean out. Circa last week.

'Nough said. Back to the workshop (only 'til supper time, Dear).

***

Some older designs of birdhouses, homes, bikes, cars, toasters etc. sure stand up to the test of time, don't they?

Do you have something from the 1940s that just looks or feels right?

Let me know.

Cheers,

GAH

.

It Strikes Me Funny: Going off the air

Due to unforeseen circumstances

(my blog brokke)

and technological problemmms that are way

way over my head

(I can't fix it... can't fix)

I'm going off the ai

4 now...

Many thanks to readers

for comments and informative, friendly and enjoyable contacts.

As far as I kno

my wekly colm will stil b @

http://beta.thelondoner.ca/SearchCat.aspx?cid=4186

GAH

.

For third day, blogger.com not up to snuff

FYI to readers:

Several features attached to my blog are not working properly, and I don't think it's my fault.

Many other things are, i.e. related to content, but not the following:

I cannot post with images or links., labels, bold text etc.

Drat. And I have a great 'century birdhouse' to show you!!

I cannot use labels or bold and italic text.

Stink. How will I emphasize my BIG, IMPORTANT MESSAGES??

And, I cannot respond to your comments.

Believe me, i want to, but I can't.

E.g., I wanted to tell Jane, of Gaston Studio, that I borrowed a line from one of her comments for my latest column.

See http://beta.thelondoner.ca/SearchCat.aspx?cid=4186 for full details.

So, there's obviously something fishy going on in the blog world - and, as usual, I missed the memo.

To top it all off, I can't find my car keys.

***

Wait 'til you see the century birdhouse.

Have you seen my keys?

.

Lessons learned from our mothers have legs

Mother’s Day is approaching and may have influenced recent posts and questions.

E.g., I asked for lessons readers learned from their mother and received the following:

My mother always said, “Be happy with what you have, you don't always need bigger, better, or more.” Bert

I think that’s a fine lesson to remember and is related to ‘money won’t buy happiness.’ It’s also true that happiness won’t buy you money, but who among us would trade our happiness for cash?

Twinkelydots recalls these words of advice from her Mom:


"Learn to play bridge. It will help you get into better social circles.” And, “Cutting off your hair shows a sign of maturity."

I like the short hair idea, though my maturity lags behind a bit - at times. Only at times.

Twinkelydots still doesn’t play bridge but sounds like she's doing just fine without it.

BTW. Coming from a small town, I never saw bridge being played until I became a school teacher. I quickly thought, it isn’t for me. Too many cards to think about.

And Kathleen wrote the following (among other things):


“Make a place in your house that is just for you. A place where no one else can come unless you invite them.”



I have my workshop, but the door is always open.

For one thing, Ollie needs to learn how to use a hamma, as he calls it.

***

Readers, thanks for the comments. I may expand on this topic at a later date, because father’s give lots of advice too, don’t they?

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Local birdhouse maker has new work plan for his shop

In 2008 I made and sold many birdhouses, put gas in my motorcycle with the proceeds - and life was good.

This year, however, I’ve come up with a new plan based on something I’ve learned about birdhouses recently.

I’ve discovered that the more trim I attach, the more fanciful the design, the more money I can charge per unit. (Per unit is an important business term, so you may already see where my mind is going).

In other words, I could, in a business-like way, make fewer units, but make a lot more money. Or heaps.

Sweet.

So, the new plan?

I’m going to work toward making the smallest number possible for the highest amount of money, kind of like the way some high-end, gated subdivisions are going here in town.

Maybe I can get to one huge birdhouse per year for one million dollars.

Birds like jacuzzis, right?

***

Good plan?

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Lessons learned from our mothers create conflict

For the sake of readers with sensitive ears, I left a harsh line out of my most recent column (‘Sometimes history - and mothers - get it right’).

[ http://beta.thelondoner.ca/SearchCat.aspx?cid=4186 ]

I made the point that our mothers have good advice (re living small) and used a quote (almost all of it) from Bert, a gentleman raised on a farm near Wingham.

He wrote: “My mother always said ‘be happy with what you have, you don't always need bigger, better, or more,’ and to this day I’ve always lived that way. My son lives by the same motto, and we are quite happy.”

Okay, time to fess up. I snipped out a piece thanks to the miracle of modern technology (the delete button on my keyboard).

Bert’s original email went like this: “My son lives by the same motto. According to many people we are couple of weirdoes, in my opinion they can go to hell. We are quite happy.”

I left some of that out because I think a mother’s advice to do more with less etc. is becoming more acceptable now, especially during hard times (e.g., in cities where budgets or city coffers are over-stretched), and the fair people of Wingham will soon settle down, accept a live small philosophy more fully, and live in peace and tranquility.

So, that’ll be enough of the weirdoes and go to hell business, eh?

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I bought it just to throw away but when the time came...

I laugh sometimes at my frugality (frugality being a polite way of saying I still have the first dollar I ever earned and you’re not getting it).

While preparing for the 2005 Boston Marathon I was told I’d need to buy some throw-away clothes.

Not in the habit of buying clothes just to toss out a window, I asked why.

“The buses that take you to the start line leave early, and the race doesn’t start until noon. So, you’ll be sitting around a long time. It can get cold.”


["Throw-away? What's a throw-away?": photo GAH]

I grasped the idea that I’d need warm ‘waiting around’ clothes, but why throw them away?

“Once you’re called to the start line you might not have time to take your extra clothes back to the bus. And thousands of people choke every street. Just throw them away.”

(What, the people? No, the clothes).

It made sense, to a degree, and it was nice to hear that a charitable organization cleaned up the route afterwards and donated all the throw-away clothes to a worthy cause.

So, I bought a lovely, warm, hooded, throw-away sweatshirt, got to the start line at 8 a.m., waited, waited, took several pee breaks, warmed-up, tried to snooze, was interviewed for the Jay Leno Tonight Show by Bobby from The Sopranos (my clip ended up on the editing room floor), and... because I had a marathoner’s speed, strength and stamina and knew exactly where my bus was parked, I took a little side trip before I was called to the start line.

The hooded sweatshirt is now an important part of my tasteful workshop ensemble.

It’s always dusty, but there ain’t no dust on me.

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Favourite used purchases have legs... and save money

I love my new used Levis ($15) because they fit me right off the rack and had the appropriate number of legs.

I won’t ask for more from the folks who stock the racks at Value Village.


["Another fav 'used' LP. Bob was more expensive."]

Recently, however, I did ask others what their favourite used purchase is, and got the following replies:

“My favorite used purchase is a barberry raincoat I picked up at a thrift store for $5! It's in excellent shape, fits perfectly and I didn't have to spend tons of money to replace my old one.” Jane at Gaston Studio

“Last winter I bought a NEW LL Bean wool cardigan for $8, in the catalog it's $79!” Joycee at granny mountain

“I am a big thrift store shopper. It's how I stock half of my store.” twinkelydots at 2009: A Year of Cleansing

“Everything I own is from a thrift store--Value-Village of ARC of Hennepin County. It would be pretty hard to to come up with one thing.” Kathleen, Easy For Me To Say

I sense some real enthusiasm here!

Funny, I've never felt the same about a new pair of jeans or TV.

Why is that?

***

Check out their sites; you might like hanging out with people of like mind as much as I do.

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How does that song go again?

Was it called 'The Name Game?

I tried to get Ollie to laugh while I was pushing his swing and singing:

"Ollie, Ollie, good golly,
Banana-fanna O-Follie,
I like your Nanna,
Vanna."

Nothing. He just looked away.


["What's that over there?": photo GAH]

I tried again when Ollie was on a slide.


He said, "Give it up, Pappa."

How does it go again?

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Top Ten Favourite Things I bought 'used'

Can you beat this top ten list for total excitement and overall value?

I think you’d have to work awful darn hard.

You’d also have to be willing to wear other people’s clothing (after they’re done), own a car that stops at yard sales, have a nose that smells ‘true value’ and be born with the reduce - reuse - recycle gene.

(Not everybody has that gene, you know).

So, stop and compare.

[As far as memory serves, the first three are my most recent bargains].

Land of the Eagle: A Natural History of North America - $4 - flea market

Levis - $15 - Village of Values

Montreal Canadiens jersey - $5 - Village of Values


Model VW van - $2 - Ingersoll flea market

LP album (Bob Dylan Highway 61 Revisited) - The Village Idiot - $10

Three-quarter size Norman guitar - from my mother-in-law - $100

Beatles CD (Abbey Road) - Dr. Disc - $4

1984 Yamaha Virago 1000cc motorcycle - Lightning Sports - $2,995

Denim jacket - Village of Values - $7 (for motorcycle rides)

Brown leather jacket - Value of Villages - $10 (for more motorcycle rides)

***

Can you beat my list? Top ten favourites for under $3,152?

If you don’t include a motorcycle you should have a chance!

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Prose: Childhood Memories - Thin times in a small town

thin times in a small town

where did she find
the money, that young mother
of mine, for the brand new
red CCM bicycle for
my birthday?

my brother and three sisters
never thought or felt
our family was poor.
but we knew -
if we wanted something -
we had better be prepared
to work for it.

God, what a good lesson
to learn as a young boy.

My dad had me try
one or two used bikes.
Tim Body’s didn’t fit me well
and it was hard to pedal.
I would have worked hard
for something better.

But, on my birthday,
after opening a few presents,
my mother told me
I wasn’t done yet
and said I should look
behind a tall bookcase
that hid the front door
from where I stood.

I looked and,
quite unexpectedly,
fell in love with
a new red bike.

GAH

***

I lovingly tip my hat


to the wee girl whose father died young,
and who never had her own new red bike.

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Zoom w a View: From a front porch on Cathcart St.

Since the first day of spring there have only been a few mornings warm enough for me to sit on the front porch in pajamas, coffee in one hand, camera in the other.

The blossoms on the apricot tree are gone, buds are opening, and I predict a bumper crop.

Our fir tree, at 15 years old, always catches my eye on a sunny morning.


***

Do you have views from your porch? Priceless at times, eh?

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If Gary Thorne sat on a hot stove, would you?

Right off the top, my apologies to Gary, one of my childhood friends from the village of Norwich, Ontario.

He came to mind when I added a few of the lessons I learned from my mother to my next column).

Many years ago, when she spotted me following some new trend, or I asked to buy a new toy because somebody else just got one, or I wanted to do something other than what she wanted, she used to say, “If Gary Thorne sat on a hot stove, would you?”

Geez, one time, all I wanted to do was wear my shirt with the top two buttons undone.

How did we get stuck on a hot stove?

(Trust me. I had some confused feelings at times. 1959 was a particularly whacky year, but that’s another story).


["My secret's out. I love used jeans.": photo GAH]

Now that I’m older I get what she was saying.

And, no, I wouldn’t sit on a hot stove if Gary did.

I’d say, “Get off the stove, eh. You’ll ruin your jeans, and a new pair of Levis aren’t cheap.”

Then I’d go on to say, if his pants were ruined, that he could buy good used jeans for $10 - 15 at Valu-Village.

“You buy used jeans?” he’d say.

“Sure. No more of this keeping up with the Thornes for me.”

***

Tell me about a lesson you learned from your mother.

And what is your favourite "used" purchase?

My Levis are in the top five right now.

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Carbon Shift sounds like another heavy read

While working on a few birdhouses in the shed last week I listened to an interview between a CBC Radio host and Thomas Homer-Dixon, author of The Upside of Down.

Mr. Homer-Dixon was promoting his latest work, Carbon Shift.

I looked it up online @ Random House. The following two quotes and short blurbs were featured:


“We are now so abusing the Earth that it may rise and move back to the hot state it was in fifty-five million years ago, and if it does, most of us, and our descendants, will die.” 


—James Lovelock, leading climate expert and author of The Revenge of Gaia



“I don’t see why people are so worried about global warming destroying the planet — peak oil will take care of that.”


Matthew Simmons, energy investment banker and author of Twilight in the Desert: The Coming Saudi Oil Shock and the World Economy

The blurb - 
The twin crises of climate change and peaking oil production are converging on us. If they are not to cook the planet and topple our civilization, we will need informed and decisive policies, clear-sighted innovation, and a lucid understanding of what is at stake. We will need to know where we stand, and which direction we should start out in. These are the questions Carbon Shift addresses.

Another heavy read, eh? I think if I finish a few pages per night while riding my exercise bike I should be done by August.

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Latest poll reveals a shift toward smaller lifestyles

I’ll make this snappy - you heard it here first.

Unless you were listening to CBC Radio Canada yesterday and heard the short clip about people adopting new spending attitudes and dialing back their lifestyles - with a positive view to the future.

Since the recession is adjusting our materialistic attitudes faster than www.storyofstuff.com, David Suzuki, Al Gore, the Green movement, Elizabeth May and our last credit card statements rolled into one - with very good results for people and the planet - I think it’s time for a name change for the era in which we live.

Recession (even deep fried) is so yesterday.


[Age of reason?"]

I’m looking for examples or suggestions.

The Age of Austerity? Too austere.

Era of Frugality? Lousy sound bite. The media would revolt.

Age of Reason? Very good... but taken.

Period of Practicality? Practical... but too many syllables.

So, grab your dictionary and thesaurus (warning - this is not another example - I’ve moved on) and send me your ideas. Something upbeat.

And snappy. We all like snappy.

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Saving up big bucks for my next new book

It has taken me more than two months to finish reading The Upside of Down, by Thomas Homer-Dixon.

Am I slow reader?

Ummm, maybe. But... I'm also easily distracted.

I read a lot while riding my exercise bike and occasionally flip on the TV or pick up something lighter and take a mental break (Upside is heavy going, especially the Down part).

Once in awhile I pick up a motorcycle magazine or travelogue to make me feel like I’m actually traveling somewhere while pedaling a stationary bike. Hey, a guy must have his dreams. And I bet I’m not alone in this practice.

I finished just in time too.


["Finished reading. I can now sing for dessert!" GAH]

Homer-Dixon is now promoting his latest effort, Carbon Shift: How the Twin Crises of Oil Depletion and Climate Change Will Define the Future.

Sounds like another heavy one.

Just reading the title took 30 seconds.

See you in two months!

***

You now have the answer to yesterday’s pop quiz.

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