More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection.

And here I am, sitting on a couch in our living room, with a dumb-looking grin on my face for no obvious reason at all.  This photo is undated by the lab, and has no annotations, so I can only guess that this is circa '56 or '57.  I don't remember that cover on our couch; it strikes me today as most unattractive. :)

The lab dates this photo as August 1952, just before I was born.  My mom wrote “Donnie” on the back, so this must be her brother (my uncle) Donnie.  He looks to be about 11 or 12 in the photo.  I've no idea where that was taken, but it looks much like some places I've been in the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania or northern New Jersey...

Here's a photo taken near our home in Robbinsville.  My mom's note on the back: “Holly Barnard on left, Holly Dilatush on right on the table”.  The lab dates this as December 1955, but it must have been taken before the leaves dropped in the preceding fall – sometime in late 1955 (as my sister Holly was born in April that year).   The photo was taken from a point northeast of our house, looking north-northwest.  The backyard fence I don't remember is visible at left.  My mom is at far right in the photo, with our dog Synda near her.  I don't remember Holly Barnard (or even anyone with the name Barnard), but I'm guessing the woman at left is Holly Barnard's mom.  That must be the Barnard's car in the driveway.  We had a similar car (a '48 Dodge) at one point, but it was black.  Behind the car you can see the (long!) ropes for our swing, and the branch that dad and Chalky managed to tie it up to.  That's way up there!  The little building visible above the kids is my dad's old chicken shack.  He dragged it up to that point with our tractor at one point (it had been down in the creek bottoms).  Later he dragged it around to the south of our house, practically out of sight, and it became my electronics workshop.  This was at the request of our mom, who was terrified that my electronics experiments – which, to be fair, blew up spectacularly fairly often – would burn down the house.  I don't remember what it was used for in the location shown in the photo, though I do remember it being there.  Over my mom's head you can see a rope angling up, and tied up to something I can't identify.  I don't have any memory of anything tied up there.

Left-to-right, this is my aunt (my mom's sister) Bonnie, my brother Scott, and me.  The photo is undated; on the back my mom wrote: “Bonnie & kids”.  From our apparent ages, this must have been in late '54 or early '55; my mom would have been pregnant with my sister Holly.  It was taken in our dining room, looking southeast.  The arched entrance to our living room is visible at right; an east-facing window at left.  I remember those shelves – white enameled metal brackets holding glass shelves; they always had plants on them, often African violets.  The silverware I remember well: stainless steel flatware with bronze-riveted rosewood handles.

This one brought back all sorts of memories, though not because I recognized anyone in it!  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Tillie Bard, her sister Mary and ?  Lincoln, Maine”.  It's undated, but from the cars it must have been in the late '50s.  The memory trigger was the name Tillie Bard: I remember her well, though my memories of her don't resemble any of the girls I see here!  I mainly remember her from the mid- to late-'60s, when she'd have been roughly ten years older than in this photo.  She was one of mom's best friends in Maine, and visited our camp frequently (and we visited her camp, and her home in Lincoln, fairly often as well).  I don't recognize the location, but I'm guessing that it's her home in Lincoln, Maine.

We'll end with this out-of-focus candid shot.  That's my brother Scott, in the bedroom he and I shared.  The lab dates this as December 1958, when he'd have been almost five.  For some reason the dresser behind him has all its drawers removed – I can't imagine why.  The window behind him would have been the south-facing window; under it is a piece of furniture I can't quite make out.  When we were just a bit older my parents bought a pine bunk bed set that freed up quite a bit of space in our little bedroom.  Mostly I remember these beds for an odd reason: Scott and I were once simultaneously sick with something that made us vomit.  We made quite a mess in that room, and my mom for some reason was unappreciative of our vomiting prowess. :)

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Debbie's doing a bit better after her injury at physical therapy this past Monday.  She's off the pain meds most of the time, and she's got more range of motion now.  Yesterday afternoon, at the behest of the physical therapists, she went in for her scheduled session – but no exercise was involved.  Instead they spent the entire hour doing everything they could think of to help with the pain.  They used ultrasonic therapy to heat deep tissues, then “dry needling” (which neither of us had ever heard of) to trick her body into a broader pain response, TENS for direct pain reduction, and finally ice to reduce swelling.  As she climbed into the car on leaving physical therapy, she didn't notice any real benefit to the session.  However, this morning there was a substantial improvement in her right knee's range of motion, along with less pain – we can't say for sure that yesterday's session deserves the credit (it could just be the passage of time), but it's certainly a possibility.

After we left physical therapy, we headed up to Aggie's creamery for an ice cream cone.  Debbie waited in the car, but told me she wanted chocolate almond.  I chose my flavor while waiting briefly in line: huckleberry, which was in stock this time.  When I got back out to the car with our two cones, Debbie eyed my huckleberry cone with great desire.  I wish she'd look at me like that!  Of course I gave her my huckleberry cone (after taking one taste of it's deliciousness), and I took the chocolate almond.  No problem, really, as I love the chocolate almond, too.  :)

I made a bit of progress on the mud room electrical work yesterday.  In particular, I fabricated the three wooden “plates” I need in order to mount the two new front porch lights and the motion sensor (in the photo at right).  These plates will be attached directly to the OSB sheathing on the outer wall of the front porch.  The siding will be cut out to fit against the sides of the plate, and waterproofed with silicone caulking.  The lights we removed from the old front porch were mounted on top of the siding, which meant that they were mounted at an angle, and there was no waterproof seal to prevent water from entering the electrical box.  That was another shoddy job so typical of our home's former owner.  The two rectangular plates (for the lights) needed a central hole for an octagonal electrical box; those I cut out with a scroll saw.  The square plate (for the motion sensor) has a round box, and I used the lathe to make that.  I have a beautiful set of jaws for my lathe that will let me turn things up to 22" in diameter, very handy indeed for something like this.  I made these out of normal Douglas fir lumber, from pieces of a 2x8.  They're just sawed out, a 1/2" radius put on the edges with a router (reduces weathering damage), and then sanded.  I put a coat of KILZ primer on them in preparation for painting; they'll be painted when the siding is painted.  This was a simple piece of work, but it was a real pleasure to do something in my wood shop.  It's been months since I last turned on any of that equipment...

I got an email yesterday that put a big smile on my face: the fellow building our fireplace door sent me some photos of the work in progress.  Mainly he wanted to make sure we were ok with the door handles, as they looked disproportionately large to him.  We're just fine with them, and we told him so.  Most of all, though, it was great to see a bit of what our fireplace door is going to look like!  We've been waiting over two years for a fireplace door, after our original contractor gave up.  We're so happy we found these folks: unlike our original contractor, they can build it in the style we really wanted.  Once we receive this (a week or two from now), if we are as happy with it as we suspect we will be, we'll be throwing some more work at this craftsman – we've got several other projects that could use some nice artistic metal work...

This morning I put a coat of waterproofing on my new boots.  That reminds me that I should put up an endorsement of the product I'm using: Sno-Seal.  I've used it for two years now, and it's the best shoe waterproofing I've ever used by quite a good margin.  I found it through Amazon, looking for good ratings; once again that paid off.

I've been fat my entire adult life, until the past couple of years.  It's still really strange for me to look down and be able to see my belt buckle.  I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this...

The latest Trump craziness got me to pondering.  In that recording, he exhibits (amongst other things) a disconnect between sexuality and emotional attachment that makes me think of teenagers and dogs.  The press and pundit reaction to this is to be all offended and outraged.  But is that really all that unusual a behavior?  I've met plenty of people – both men and women – who pretty clearly had a major disconnect between their sexual life and their emotional life.  I've heard many a comment in conversations that weren't all that different than what Trump was recorded saying.  And were he to become president, he certainly wouldn't be the first with that particular characteristic.  I think there are plenty of reasons why the idea of Trump as president should terrify all of us, just as I do for Clinton.  I'm not sure this is one of them, though...

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

This is my mom's sister (my aunt) Bonnie, in an undated studio portrait.  It's probably a school portrait.  Bonnie looks to be about 9 or 10 in this photo, which would make it circa '45.  On the back, in a child's handwriting (presumably Bonnie's): “To my Daddy from Bonnie”.  You can see that it was rather crudely cut into an oval shape; I'm guessing that Bonnie did that as well.  Cute little girl, wasn't she?

This one is dated by the lab as January 2009, but that couldn't be right.  The photo was taken in their Jacobstown, New Jersey house, the one they had custom built after their retirement.  It must have been taken earlier and developed later, or perhaps it's a more recent copy.  From their appearance, I'll guess that it was taken in the early 2000s.  Update: Holly tells me this was likely in January 2009, just before my parents moved to Virginia.  Left-to-right, the photo shows my niece Amber (I think!), my dad, and my mom.  My dad's chronic lymphatic leukemia had sapped much of his vitality at that point, and this may even have been taken during a course of chemo.  He looks so frail there, and I know he was already very restricted in his physical capabilities.  My mom, on the other hand, was still looking good.  She was actually also quite restricted physically, but somehow it's not as obvious in this photo.

My sister Holly and her husband Warren, in an undated photo taken in a location I don't know (but I'm sure my sister can fill in the details here!).  Warren is one of the most optimistic people I know, still fantasizing that someday he will beat me (on average) in Scrabble.  He's also got a great sense of humor, something utterly vital for anyone marrying into our family! :)  I'm guessing that this photo was taken sometime in the early 2000s, but that's based almost entirely on the shade of Warren's beard.  Update: Holly says this was taken at their home that subsequently burned down.  The pool fence is the one in the background.  The photo was taken before she left for Korea in 2004 or 2005.

Here's a nice snapshot of my brother Mark and his wife Gina.  The lab dates it as October '07, and that looks about right.  I have absolutely no idea where this was taken, but I'll guess it was on one of their vacations to Mexico.  Update: my sister tells me that this photo is from their wedding day, in Cancun, Mexico.  I'm not sure when that was!

My mom...

My mom ... would have loved this!

Quote of the day...

Quote of the day...  This is Jonah Goldberg, speaking about our choices in the upcoming presidential election:

When given a choice between two crap sandwiches on different kinds of bread, my response is “I’ll skip lunch”...

That sums up my own reaction quite succinctly.  I'm skipping lunch too...

Raindrops keep falling on my head...

Raindrops keep falling on my head...  Well, not really.  But just now I heard raindrops on the steel roof of our barn, but there are no rain clouds about.  On looking out the window I discovered that I'm hearing the water from melting ice dripping off the upper roof onto the lower roof.  Early this morning, when I walked the dogs, I noticed that our fence was covered in ice and that there were sparkles in the grass.  Now, after dawn, I can see that my barn's roof was covered with a thick layer of frost – and even a sheet of ice in some places.

Winter approaches!

Yesterday I turned on the heat in my barn.  This morning it was a pleasant 65°F when I walked in (that's where I have it set).  For the umpteenth time I'm thankful that I decided to spend the money on the in-floor heating system.  It works so well!

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection.  This is an “all-kids” edition.  :)

Here's one that confirms a guess I made in an earlier post.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Picnic in the pines Lake Oswego”.  My dad is the man seated in the center of the photo; the kids with him, left-to-right, are my brother Scott, my sister Holly, and me (with my dad's arm on my shoulders, something I'd give a lot to feel just one more time).  The others in the photo are strangers to me, most likely just other people at the lake.  My dad's boots and his cotton twill pants are his normal attire – but not those socks!  I don't remember him ever wearing anything except plain white socks.  I'm guessing Scott is three in that photo, which would make this the summer of '57, when I'd have been four and Holly two.  I have lots of memories of the New Jersey pine barrens (which is what my mom meant by “the pines”, but none of Lake Oswego in particular.  It's a bit surprising to me that we went there at all, as its the sort of place my dad would have been quite uncomfortable with (he was every bit as introverted as I am; he'd have much preferred a remote area where we could be alone).

This photo is also from Lake Oswego.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Bonnie + kids Lake Oswego”.  That would be my mom's younger sister (my aunt) Bonnie, quite the sweet young thing in that photo.  She's holding my brother Scott, and I'm just in front of her.  The lab dates this as December 1955, which means it was probably actually taken in the summer of '55, when I was three and Scott approaching two.

Here's my brother Scott and I, looking out of the north-facing window of our home's dining room.  I've got my arms around Scott's neck, though I don't think I'm actually trying to throttle him!  The photo is not dated and has no annotation.  From our apparent ages I'll guess that this was taken in '57.

Here's Scott again, though I wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for my mom's writing on the back: “Scott”.  That's pretty clear. :)  The lab dated it as February 1962, but I'm guessing it was actually taken some months earlier, in warmer weather.  He'd have been eight going on nine at that time.  That's quite an outfit he's wearing.  I don't recognize it, though its so distinctive it seems like I should!   He's standing on the little-used front porch of our home.  I see in this photo that the fancy woodwork I noted in an earlier photo, in the porch roof bracing, are missing now.  That may be why I don't remember them – apparently they were removed at some point.

Here's another Christmas photo.  It's undated, but if Scott (standing with the airplane toy) is two here (and I was then three), this would be the Christmas of '55.  That's me with my butt to the camera, I presume (based on my mother's annotation: “Tommy & Scott”).  The man sitting on the couch, mostly obscured by Scott, is my father's father, my grandfather Earle.  To the right of Scott is some sort of riding toy that I can't figure out, and that I don't remember at all.  Note the old-fashioned cloth diapers...

Here's a photo of me, dated (by the lab) February 1961.  I can't pick out any definitive clues as to the location, but it looks like somewhere in the mountains of northern Maine.  I'm dressed appropriately for an overcast day in the summer there, too.  So I'm guessing that this was actually taken in the summer of '60, when I'd have been seven going on eight.  Almost certainly I'd have been on a hike with my dad.  My brother Scott and sister Holly were often on these hikes as well (especially when we were eight or older), but I went on quite a few with just my dad and I; I'm not sure why this happened, or whether he went on hikes alone with Scott or Holly.  Those hikes alone with my dad were a big event for me, as often he'd take me somewhere that he wouldn't take a gaggle of kids – I'm assuming that was because of tall cliffs or something else risky like that.  One mystery for me in this photo: the diagonal streak leading up to my head.  I can't think what that would be other than snow, and I don't recall running into snow on our Maine hikes.  Also I don't see any snow on the distant mountains, and I'd certainly expect to if it was right behind me.  What the heck is that?

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  My lovely bride has a birthday today – not a particularly happy one, due to her knee issues.  I gave her an “unhappy birthday” kiss, which got a smile...

I've now washed three loads in our new dishwasher, all with outstanding results.  One thing that's particularly notable as compared with the one I just removed: we're not seeing any spotting or filming on our glassware.  Since I don't know what causes those things in the first place, I haven't a clue why they're not appearing now – but I'm sure happy they're not!  I'm learning how to load it, which is quite a bit different than any other dishwasher we've owned.  The silverware drawer makes that stuff ridiculously easy.  The glassware, I'm discovering, can be closer together than with our previous machine – they don't seem to be jostled around as much.  The bottom rack, for the big stuff, I haven't really challenged yet – but purely subjectively, it appears to be 25% or so larger than our previous machine – mainly because there aren't many projections from the sides that restrict where you can put something.  The many foldable and movable supports are really handy-looking, but I haven't needed them yet.  I haven't yet found anything to complain about – I'm sure I will, eventually, but not yet. :)

Yesterday I took Cabo and Mako to the groomer for the first time.  They both looked unworried, so I just left them in the groomer's care, and came back a few hours later to pick them up.  The groomers were a hoot when I came back.  They were fawning over both puppies.  Talisa, the same groomer who fixed Miki up for us on Friday, was all over Mako (whom she groomed), calling him “cutest puppy evah!” and saying that “we’d converted her to field spaniels”.  The puppies got a haircut, nail trim, and teeth brushed, and the groomers reported them to be perfectly well-behaved the whole time they were being worked on.  Mako, especially, got high marks for his calm and unworried behavior.  Cabo was reported to be a bit of a drama queen, but not nearly as hard to handle as many puppies are on their first trip to the groomer.  When I had them both on-leash and was getting ready to leave the store, all five groomers then on duty came out to say goodbye to the puppies – who were eating up all the attention.  That was about as good a grooming experience as I could imagine. :)

On my way back home from dropping off the puppies, I stopped at our local Tractor Supply Company outlet to pick up a water bucket.  Why?  Because our darling puppies totally destroyed the thick plastic bucket that I had in their kennel. :)  The new one, which I found easily there, is made of thick galvanized steel.  This is, I think, beyond even the demolition talents of those puppies.  While there I spotted something interesting: salt on a rope.  This is a solid block of naturally-occurring salt, cut out and drilled for a rope.  We've been intending to put up a salt lick for wildlife (deer, elk, moose) in our front yard, and this was about as perfect as we could get.  I got one, and now it's hanging from one of our pine tree limbs in the front year.  As soon as I see evidence of its use, I'm going to put up the trail camera and see if I can capture some photos.

I also stopped at Macey's, our main grocery store.  I had a shopping list with six items on it, but I ended up with nearly a full shopping cart. :)  While wandering the aisles, I happened past an Asian woman who works there, someone I'd asked for help several times and who was always very nice (and helpful!).  She's very short, maybe 4-2 or so, and was on the fourth step of a little step ladder restocking a shelf.  She dropped a box of cereal just as I was walking by, so I picked it up and handed it back up to her.  That got me a radiant smile, and I went on with my shopping.  A bit later, she came by me in a different aisle, pushing her cart full of items to be restocked.  She stopped and told me (in quite broken English) that one of her favorite things about living here was just how kind and considerate everyone was.  “So different than home!” she said, which of course made me ask where home was.  Vietnam, she said, not far from Hanoi.  She looks like she's perhaps 45 years old, so she'd have no memories of the war.  We had a short conversation, in which I learned that she moved directly to here from Vietnam about five years ago, on the advice of a relative who was attending Utah State University here.  She'd been struggling to make her way in Vietnam, and really didn't like it there.  Being here, she said, has been simply wonderful for her – she said “I didn’t know I could be so happy!”  I told her that we had much the same reaction as her, but we'd moved just from California – something she had trouble believing. :)  She's never been out of northern Utah since moving here, but she recently bought a car and is planning a trip up and down the Pacific Coast for next summer.  Interesting conversation, especially for the perspective on living here...

No progress to report on the construction work.  Our doors and windows are due tomorrow, and our builder promises to install them “soon” thereafter.  The grading in the back yard is still on hold due to mud, but we've got dry days in the forecast for the next 10 days, so there's some hope that progress can be made next week.

I had a nice walk with the puppies yesterday afternoon.  I picked a moment when the weather radar didn't show any squalls approaching, and that strategy seemed to work – we were out for an hour, and we didn't get wet! :)  The puppies, newly groomed, had a blast (of course!).  Mako was particularly cute as he attempted to catch the many green butterflies that were fluttering about.  Both were particularly disgusting when they discovered piles of deer poop (a frequent occurrence).  In two of the photos below, I have them tied up to a wheelie line.  While they were tied like that, a small aircraft flew low and slow overhead.  The two dogs looked all around for the noise, and couldn't spot it, until they saw me looking up – then they looked up and saw the plane.  That started a round of furious barking, and great puppy satisfaction when the airplane left the area (they were certain they'd been the cause of its departure!)...

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

This is me, in an undated photo that appears to be a studio portrait.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Tommy”.  It's printed on fancy embossed paper; unusual in her collection.  I am unaccountably excited about (apparently) the shoes I've torn off my feet.  If I'm about one in that photo, then this is circa '53...

Here's my brother Mark, in another undated photo.  He's so small in this one that it has to be from early '61.  My mom wrote “Mark our ‘Indian’” on the back.  I don't remember mom ever referring to Mark as an Indian, and I'm not sure where that remark comes from.  Something about his appearance?

Here's a scene from a Christmas morning we've seen in earlier photos.  The lab dated this January 1958, so this must have been Christmas 1957.  The bookshelves are up (at right), and I can see some of those Reader's Digest condensed novels on them.  There are a bazillion or two toys I don't remember at all.  The baby carriage surprises me – Holly, Scott, and I would have been too old for it at that point, I'd have thought – and Mark hadn't yet arrived on the scene.  At the right you can see the World Book encyclopedia that my parents picked up at a garage sale, for next to nothing.  That encyclopedia had a huge impact on me; over the course of the next few years I read the entire thing.  That rack held all 28 volumes in two rows; you're seeing the left part of the upper row.  I knew every one of those volumes very well, and I'd bet that even today I could navigate it instantly.

Dated by the lab March 1959, this photo was taken in our home's front yard, looking south.  The subject is the tree in the middle, a Magnolia grandiflora that later grew much larger, along with several others in the same planting.  Behind the magnolia you can see our flagpole sticking up.  I don't recognize the dog, but I'll guess that it's one of Chalky's hounds, loose for some reason.  The little building to the left of the magnolia is Chalky's little storage/shop building.  The row of trees on the left puzzles me.  I remember several nice blue Atlas cedar specimens in a sparse row there, not those low shrubs.

This is my sister Holly, in a photo the lab dated February 1959; my mom wrote “Holly” on the back.  She'd have been almost 4 years old.  She's holding one of the peat-potted hollies that my dad sold by mail order for a few years, shipping them in bright red cardboard tubes by parcel post.  The pot is made from pressed peat moss that was folded into that form when wet (unlike the peat pots today that are pressure-formed in a mold).  The heavy pressed peat held a lot of water.  We'd wet the pots well, insert the entire plant into a thick plastic bag, tie it up with a twist-'em, stuff it in the cardboard tube, tape the tube shut, then paste on the customer's address.  It was quite a process, and I remember spending quite a few hours on various stages of it.  Oddly I don't remember my brothers and sisters helping with it – was it really only me?  Memory is a funny thing...

Here's a nice photo of the old homestead.  The lab dated it October 1954, and my mom wrote “house” on the back (in case we forgot, I guess!).  The long side in view is the east side of the house, with the south end visible toward the left.  My bedroom was in the southeast corner; its two windows are visible.  The fence I don't remember is clearly visible on the north side (toward the right).  The classic old wood frame and formed steel body wheelbarrow tells me that my dad was working somewhere around there – that wheelbarrow was a basic tool for him, like a carpenter's rip saw.  Visible on the front porch roof is some fancy decorative woodwork (inside the angled brace).  I don't remember that at all!

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Debbie is doing a bit better this morning, especially with respect to her level of pain.  As I write this, she hasn't needed any pain medication for nearly 12 hours – significantly different (and better!) than her pain levels yesterday.  I'll call that quite hopeful!

Yesterday finally was the day of the dishwasher!  In the morning I tore out our old, burned out dishwasher and tossed it in our dumpster (with the tractor, not my Herculean arms!).  I left the old drain, hot water, and power connections in place, thinking they'd be useful for the new dishwasher.  Then I ran down to Ogden and picked up our new one without incident.  After I unpacked it I discovered all sorts of parts that I didn't understand – but clearly this thing didn't install anything like other dishwashers installed.  So I did something I normally don't bother with: I sat down and read the installation instructions front to back.  It really was a different kind of installation!  So ... first step was to remove the old drain, hot water, and power connections.  Then I had to cut a hole (5.5" x 2.75") in the cabinet panel between the dishwasher hole and the area under the kitchen sink.  The drain line and hot water line are pre-installed into the Bosch dishwasher, so I had to feed them from the dishwasher hole through the new hole I cut into the under-sink area.  This is backwards from the usual dishwasher install.  The really different part was the electrical power, though.  The back of the dishwasher has a connector that you just plug into a power cord they provide.  This is quite short – about 30" – just long enough to reach through the hole I cut in the cabinet.  On the other end of that power cord is a 4" surface-mounted junction box, which I mounted inside the under-sink area.  It's shipped with a 10" stub of a power cord, but I wanted to permanently wire it into the same circuit our old dishwasher used, so I removed that power cord and wired it up to the dishwasher circuit's Romex.  The junction box has a nice terminal block inside, so I didn't even need wire nuts to accomplish this.  I spent an hour or so carefully leveling the new dishwasher, and getting it to the right height to properly fit in our cabinet.  The old dishwasher had a problem with drawers running out by themselves; it was tilted forward.  The new one is perfectly level. :)

Then it was time for a test run.  I put a few dirty dishes in, loaded it up with soap and rinse agent, and set it off.  At first I thought it wasn't working, but then when I put my hand on it I could feel a little vibration.  I couldn't hear a thing, though, unless I got on my knees and put my ear literally on the door.  Nice!  Our refrigerator is significantly louder than the dishwasher.  The dishes came out beautifully, so I loaded it up and did a real load, and those also came out beautifully.  We have a dishwasher!  Yay!

This has some very nice features compared with other dishwashers we've owned.  My favorite, so far, is the “cutlery tray” – a very shallow tray at the top that is very easy to load silverware in and out of, and which does a bang-up job of cleaning them.  It's way easier than the silverware baskets we're used to (though they include one of those, too, for some reason!).  The middle drawer can be easily set to different heights, so it's easy to accommodate really tall items in the bottom drawer, or moderately tall items in both the middle and bottom drawers.  There's also something they added (I suspect) because the unit is so quiet: a red LED lights a small spot on the floor when the unit is running.  If that wasn't there, you might easily open the door accidentally while it's still going, because you can't hear it!

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Well, yesterday didn't work out quite as planned. 

First we had a couple of animals who were worryingly sick.  Miki refused his banana treat in the morning – something almost unimaginable.  Then there was that shivering the night before.  We made a vet appointment for him, just before noon.  We took along Kama (one of our older cats), because Debbie noted that he was losing weight and that his meow had changed.  Miki had signs of an infection, so he's now on a course of antibiotics and he's got a blood panel going.  The vet noticed that his tongue was full of cuts, a little swollen, and sort of blue – and said that he'd seen this before, with dogs that had tried hard to bite the burrs out of their fur.  That's easy to imagine Miki did that on his walkabout.  He's looking much better this morning.  He lunged for his banana, apparently afraid a puppy might get it instead. :)  The vet didn't see anything obviously off with Kama, but he's doing a senior blood panel to see if that picks anything up.  He's suspicious that Kama might be hyperthyroid (common in cats), which the blood panel will check.  If so, that's easily treated.  He also suggested feeding him so food he really likes, so last night he got a can of food – which he hovered over as he devoured, defending it from all the kittens.  We're less worried about both today.

Because of the vet appointment, I didn't make it down to pick up the dishwasher.  So I went with Debbie to her physical therapy, instead of staying home installing the new dishwasher as per our original plan.  It turns out to be a very good thing I did go with her: during her exercise on the upright bicycle, something happened in her right knee.  Excruciating pain, and she lost a lot of range of motion.  Her right knee is not the one that was operated on, so this caught everyone by surprise.  Our fear, of course, was that she'd had another break.  The physical therapists quickly determined that there wasn't anything really bad going on: no big, bad breaks, and no detached ligaments, etc.  But we went next door to a private ER facility and had her X-rayed and seen by a doctor, just in case.  The X-rays show all the bone looking normal (phew!), in fact quite healthy.  They can't tell us anything about soft tissue damage, though.  She was still in quite a bit of pain last night, and this morning.  The pain medication she can take is limited these days, so we're going to call her surgeon this morning to see if he can prescribe something she's allowed.  Meanwhile she's gobbling Tramadol, which help some but are not really strong enough.  Her spirits are a bit low right now; she's seeing this as a big setback (which we don't actually know yet, and we have reason to hope that it will not be) and of course it hurts like hell.

New plan: today is the day of the dishwasher.  I'll be heading down to Ogden to pick it up this morning, and then back to install it after lunch.  I hope...

Day of the dishwashers...

Day of the dishwashers...  That would be today, for me.  This morning I head down to Ogden to pick up our new dishwasher.  It arrived at last!  We had arranged to have it delivered to our house, but on Friday when they called and said it had arrived – they also told us they couldn't deliver it until October 13th.  Yikes!  We've been without our dishwasher too long, and we're tired of hand-washing them.  So I decided to just go down and get it myself.

Once I have it safely here (probably around 11 this morning), then the real fun begins.  First I have to carefully remove some trim strips from the cabinetry around the existing dishwasher.  Then I shut off power to the kitchen, turn off the water to the sink, pull out the old dishwasher, and disconnect its water supply, drain connection, and electrical supply.  The old one I'm hauling out to the dumpster where I'll dump it ignominiously.  Then I will unpack the new dishwasher, connect it to the drain, water, and electricity, and re-install the cabinetry trim strips.  I'm guessing it will take two or three hours, assuming I don't have to run to Lowe's for parts. :)

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Yesterday was mainly a day of bookkeeping for me.  I seem to have drifted into a pattern of episodic paperwork madness, instead of what I used to do: a little each day, as things occurred.  Mainly this seems to be a consequence of the general chaos in my life since mid-May: my mom's move out here and her subsequent death, Debbie's broken knees, the construction work around our house, and the arrival of two cute-but-high-maintenance puppies in our household.  At this point I've no idea whether I'll ever get back to “normal”, whatever that is! :)

Mark T. is the fellow who is supposed to be doing the grading, sprinklers, and sod in our yard.  Six weeks from our agreement that he do the work, he's four weeks late – about the same rate of lateness as our builder. :)  On Saturday evening, near nightfall, he showed up with his plate compactor to pound all the soil around our deck into submission.  That's him at right, making a concerted effort to get the job done.  However ... the rains of the previous week had the soil saturated with water, and the main effect of running the compactor was to cause about 6" of our mud to become semi-permanently attached to the plate.  After the one pass you see him making, he and I together couldn't budge his machine.  We had to flip it on its side and scrape off the rather large amount of accreted mud.  This job will have to wait until the ground dries out ... and with more rain in the forecast, we've no idea when that might be.

I did take a break yesterday morning for a nice walk, with the puppies on our usual route.  There was rain in the distance, and the clouds made for some dramatic lighting effects:

I took a walk with the puppies on Saturday, too.  For that walk we didn't follow our usual route at all.  Instead we walked to the west of our house, along 400 W and some of its side roads down toward the Little Bear River bottoms.  That was a very different walk than our usual route, as we passed a dozen or so homes and lots of dogs, kids, adults, and cars.  That made my puppy-handling particularly challenging, as they were independently getting distracted about 10 times per second, and charging off (equally independently!) in random directions at about the same rate.  On the other hand, they met lots of friendly neighborhood dogs, one aggressively hostile dog (called off by its owner), lots of curious kids, and a whole bunch of friendly adults.  One surprise for me: on four different occasions, an adult called out to me by name and came over to have a friendly chat.  On every one of those occasions, I recognized the person, but couldn't remember what their name was.  I'm just terrible with names.  But it sure was pleasant to discover that so many people living around us knew who I was, and often quite a bit about us.  It was also very nice to see everyone so welcoming to the puppies, who together can be a bit overwhelming.

Earlier on Saturday I drove over to Connor C.'s house.  Connor is the neighborhood kid who alerted us to Miki's whereabouts, and was directly responsible for us recovering him.  I met Connor's mom, who had heard all about me from her husband, whom I'd met the day before.  I told her that I wanted to thank Connor personally, and also to give him the $50 cash reward that we had on offer for Miki's recovery (but which Connor hadn't known about).  She told me that wasn't necessary (which I expected), but that she didn't have any objection.  While I was talking with her, a small crowd of relatives gathered around to listen, all smiling and friendly.  They were gathered to listen to the semi-annual church (LDS) conference that was being broadcast.  I'd deliberately timed my visit during a break in the conference, so they were all free to join us.

So armed with his mom's permission, I had a nice talk alone with Connor, making sure he understood just how grateful and thankful Debbie and I were, and that we knew his concern and initiative may well have saved Miki's life.  He behaved as many of the kids around here would: he demurred, saying that he just did what anyone would have done.  I made the obvious retort, that “anyone” hadn't – just he did.  Then I told him about the cash reward, and it was obvious from his face that it was the first he'd heard about that.  He told me it wasn't necessary, and then when I told him we'd really like him to have it, tried to get me to reduce the amount.  I asked him to think about doing something good for the world with the amount he thought was in excess, and then with a happy smile he took it.

That was a very satisfying experience...

And speaking of Miki...  Since he returned from his walkabout, he's been sleeping with Debbie and I.  Generally he migrates down toward our feet and stays there.  Last night, though, I woke around 1 am to feel him along my side, vibrating.  After a while my sleepy brain realized the poor guy was shivering!  On Friday the groomer gave him a whole-body buzz cut, down to about 1/8" long.  His fur coat was gone!  It was cold last night, and our bedroom windows were wide open.  I tucked him under our quilt and cuddled up with him, and after 15 minutes or so he stopped shivering.  A short time later, he was snoring as only field spaniels can.

It's so good to have him safely back...

I got up this morning around 2 am, and the first thing I did was to take our puppies out for a morning walk.  To my surprise the wind was howling away, 30 mph or so.  The forecast had no high winds in it at all!  Leaves and small branches were whipping us as we walked, and the puppies were wide-eyed and tentative upon seeing how the world had changed.  An hour later when I walked out to my office in our barn, the air was still.  If it weren't for the debris everywhere, you'd never guess we'd just had a windstorm!

Photo of the day...

Photo of the day...  A camellia, nearly perfect:

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

This one is a modern copy of an older photo, undated.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Elinor Donald - Dad”.  The kid on the left would be my mom's brother (my uncle) Donald, my mom is the kid on the right.  Her father (my grandfather) is the adult, looking very young compared with my memories of him.  If my mom is three there, then this was circa '38.  I don't recognize the house, though we've seen this exact view in some other photos.  It was apparently their go-to place for taking photos.  Gotta love the clothesline (or whatever) crossing right over my grandfather's face!

Also undated, but an original, and on the back in my mom's handwriting: “Tommy on right.  My cousin Kay’s daughter Joy on left.”   I have no memory of either Kay or Joy, nor do I know who the other little girl is.  I don't recognize the location, either.  And I wouldn't even have known that was me in the photo!  I look to be around three, making this circa '55.

Another modern copy of an older original.  The copy was made in 2010, and I don't have the original.  I've no idea who the man on the left is, but the man on the right is my mom's dad, my grandfather, Donald MacLaughlin.  He was a nurseryman, very interested in creating bonsai.  The tag being held up says “Weeping White Dogwood”, which presumably is the plant my grandfather is holding up.  I'm guessing it's his bonsai, and that this was some sort of bonsai display that he participated in.  The main impact of this photo for me, though, is just how perfectly his appearance in it matches my memories of him.  The hat, the shirt, the watch, the leathery and wrinkled face: all perfect.  A whiff of his beery, smoky aroma came right to memory on seeing that.  I also realized, on seeing that photo, that the general style of hat he's wearing is also my preferred type – except that I favor those made to be crushable and foldable; his were always fairly stiff, like a slightly soft felt cowboy hat.

On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Mable Graduation”.  That would be Mable (nee Johnson) MacLaughlin, my mom's mom (my grandmother).  It's another modern copy of an older original that I don't have, so I have no lab date to go on.  I'm guessing that her mom was born around 1900, and assuming this is a high school graduation photo, that means it's circa 1917 – near the end of WWI.  She's holding a rolled up diploma tied with a ribbon, and that's a very old-fashioned looking dress she's wearing.  What's behind her head?  Some kind of a hairpiece?  And is that a watch strapped to her left arm, halfway up?  What an odd place to wear something!  It looks like it would slip down immediately.  It's hard to tell for certain, but I think she's wearing white cloth gloves, too – very fine cloth, possibly silk.

My brother Mark and his wife Gina, in an undated photo that looks to be from roughly 10 or 15 years ago (so early 2000s).  Both of them look very happy, and like there might have been some alcohol consumption before the photo was taken. :)  On the back, in my mom's handwriting, simply: “Mark + Gina”.  There are relatively few photos of Mark in my mom's collection – and actually relatively few of any of her kids as adults...

My sister Holly, in what looks like a school studio portrait.  If I try to guess her age, I'll get it wrong and she'll holler at me, so I'll wait until I hear from her before posting it.  The terrible color is far better than the original looks – the studio scrimped on the photo paper, and used some awful off brand with dyes that have faded in unforgivable ways.  I've applied all the correction my photo software is capable of, and this is the result.  I tried, Holly!  :)

This is another modern copy of an older original that I don't have, so I don't know the date.  On the back, though, in my mom's handwriting: “Betty & Mike early 50s”.  That would be my mom's sister (my aunt) Betty and her son (my cousin) Mike.  Aunt Betty looks younger than any memory I have of her, so I'm guessing this is very early '50s.  I'd never have recognized Mike, as he's far younger than any memories of have of him.  The house looks familiar, but I can't place it confidently.  It may well be Aunt Betty's house; they moved several times during my childhood.

Yet another modern copy of an original I don't have, and this time my mom's inscription (below) gave no clue:

left to right
H. Donald MacLaughlin (my brother)
Donald MacLaughlin   my wonderful Dad
Sliver Sturgeon - “Male Chauvinist Extremist”

My grandfather (in the center) appears about like he did in the late '50s to early '60s, so I'm guessing that's the rough time frame of this photo.  The location is my grandparent's home in northern New Jersey.  It's a bit of a surprise to me that Sliver (a Maine resident) visited them there.  The two Donalds are dangling cigarettes, an entirely normal pose for them.  My grandfather is outside sans hat, a bit unusual.  Note the beer bottle on the lawn chair: the only thing unusual about that is that there's just one!  Those lawn chairs were the object of some pride for my grandparents: the aluminum frames and plastic webbing were quite the new thing at the time.  The chairs were expensive and a bit fragile, so we kids were always being admonished to be careful around them.  On the house you can see an old-fashioned electric meter.  I got in trouble once for breaking the seal on that meter, using a pair of my grandfather's pruners.  That's the only occasion I can remember when he actually got angry with me – he scared the hell out of me when he started yelling and chasing me across the yard, my mother trailing behind beseeching him not to hurt me.  He didn't – but when he caught me (about 20' away), he grabbed his pruners and inspected them very carefully for damage.  He wasn't mad because I broke the meter's seal (which is what I thought at the time), but rather because I used his pruners to do it – he was afraid I'd wrecked the blade.  Later in life I came to learn a truism: the surest way to get any horticulturist mad at you is to mess with their pruners!

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Now that Miki is back and things have calmed down just a bit, it's time for me to do a little catch-up!

About a week ago we had quite a rainstorm – dumped four and a half inches on us.  The mountains got a nice (and quite early) coating of snow, too, as you can see at right.  I took this while walking the puppies – that might be more challenging that you'd imagine! :)

On this past Saturday evening, friends of ours (Michelle and Jimmy B., and Terry and Tio V.) rolled in for a short visit.  Michelle and Terry are sisters; the four of them were on the last leg of a driving trip that took them across the country and then back to home near San Diego.  On Saturday night we took them to Le Nonne's for dinner.  My entree – crab ravioli – is at left.  Wonderful stuff, that was.  This time we got a perfectly normal waitress instead of the pretentious man-child we had the last time we were here.  That made the meal much more enjoyable for me.  On Sunday we all made the (now ritual) trip down to the Red Iguana, partly because we found out that Tio (who is Hispanic) absolutely loves mole sauce – and Red Iguana is famous for their moles.  Tio looked like he'd died and gone to heaven as he was eating.  It was a lot of fun for us to watch him enjoy it so much.  Everybody else enjoyed it, too!  From these two meals there were enough leftovers that Debbie and I made a meal of them on Monday.  Oh, boy, those were good!

Much of the time we spent with these folks we were talking.  There might have been some alcohol now and then. :)  And past my bedtime, there were games – dice and cards that the others stayed up late to play.  In the photo at right, clockwise from the lower left, are Michelle, Jimmy, Tio, my lovely bride Debbie, and Terry.  They're all sitting at our dining room table, which actually got used during their visit – first time!

Sunday morning there was a beautiful sunrise.  I love the pink/orange light that's first visible on the Wellsville Mountains to our west (leftmost photo).  Later, Jimmy and I took all four dogs for a walk together, something we've never done before.  The most I can handle by myself is two, so I generally walk either Miki and Race, or Cabo and Mako.  All four together make quite a group!  Jimmy didn't have much trouble holding them all, though if they set their mind to it, I'm sure they could have dragged him into the next county!  Left-to-right, the dogs are: Race, Mako, Cabo, and Miki.  Hmmm ... all four-letter dogs!

If you've been reading my blog regularly, you know about Miki going walkabout, and his subsequent return.  I told the story of how our neighbor's kid did a really good job of letting us know about his spotting of Miki.  Yesterday we stopped by his house to say thank you personally, and to give him the reward we'd intended to post for Miki's return (assuming his folks were ok with that).  He wasn't home, so I'm going back to do that this afternoon.  In the morning I took Miki to the groomer, where one of the people there (a young lady named Talisa) did a bang-up job of getting all the burrs off of him, then giving him a credible haircut so he didn't look ridiculous despite his short 'do.  She talked to him constantly to keep him calm, and worked carefully to avoid inflicting any more misery than he was already feeling.  Miki was still looking frightened, so I stayed with him while she worked, and I think that actually helped.  Last night we let Miki sleep in our bed (something he loves more than most dogs love life), and he thanked us in his inimitable canine fashion: he positioned himself with his head by our feet, butt aimed at us, and he farted all night.  We really didn't care. :)  I slept like the proverbial log, thanks to the relief of having him back with us, safe and sound.

This morning I took a lovely walk with Miki and Race, intended really to be a treat for Miki.  He got tired after just a half mile or so, so we turned around and came home.  The entire walk I was watching dramatic skies and lighting.  There were rainstorms to our west, and the early morning sun made great rainbows in them.  To our east, the sun was rising over the Wasatch Mountains through patchy cloud cover, and that made for spot lighting all round.  When an area was in shadow, it was quite dark, as the sun was just barely over the horizon.  Where we were standing was actually still in the shade of the Wasatch Mountains.  Some photos, all inadequate:

Miki is back!

Miki is back!  He looks fine except for having about a bazillion burrs on him (especially on his ears) from a nasty weed around here called burdock.  I'm taking him to the groomer for an emergency trim very shortly.

How did we find him, you ask?  Well, I was backing my truck out of our driveway to go take posters to all the places in the county where someone might take a stray dog.  Suddenly two kids appeared behind me, waving like crazy.  When I hopped out to find out why, they told me they'd seen Miki – and they gave me a credible description of him.  They told me exactly where they saw him, and then they had to take off for school.  I started walking around the neighborhood anywhere and everywhere within a couple hundred yards of where they spotted him – I got there just ten minutes or so after they saw him, so I figured he couldn't have gone far.  After about 15 minutes of hollering my head off, there was no sign of him.

I went back inside our house to talk it over with Debbie – specifically, to consider whether it made more sense to keep looking for him locally (as we couldn't be certain that the kids' sighting was either credible or actually Miki), or to carry on with the poster distribution.  We decided to keep searching.  I opened the door into our garage to head out (the big garage door was already open) and ... there was Miki, right at the bottom of the steps into the garage.  I called him, incredulously, and he actually ran away a bit, frightened, but then recognized me and came inside.  Got him!  I figure he must have heard me calling, came toward the sound of my voice, but never started barking himself.  I was inside talking with Debbie for no more than 2 or 3 minutes, so he must have been right behind me.

Phew!

The poor fellow is massively covered with burdock burrs, though.  The groomers are facing quite a challenge with him.  And now it's time for me to go.

Oh, happy day!

No Miki...

No Miki...  There has been no sign of our little dog.  We remain completely mystified by his disappearance.  It was very sad last night to fill just three bowls of kibble instead of four.  Even sadder to walk around our house this morning and not find him waiting...

Our little household is very somber tonight...

Our little household is very somber tonight...  Miki, our 10 year old field spaniel, has gone missing.  He was in our fenced back yard this morning, with our three other dogs – but when we went to round up the dogs at about 11 am, he was gone.  We've searched the neighborhood, notified all our neighbors, put up a notice at the Paradise post office, hollered until we're hoarse, notified the local vets, humane society, and animal control.  No sign of him at all, at least not yet.

We're completely baffled by this.  Of all our dogs, he's the least likely one to even try to get out of the yard.  Race, our border collie, would be the likely suspect for that.  Miki is old and lazy; taking a nap in the sun is more his style.  The ground is soft and muddy right now, so I looked at the entire fence perimeter trying to find the place where he escaped.  Nothing.  There's no sign at all of where or how he got out.  Furthermore, even if he did get out, he most likely behavior he'd exhibit is to run to the front door and bark.  We also can't imagine that someone came and took him – with three other younger, prettier dogs right there with him.  Not to mention that all four dogs would have raised quite a stink should someone ever have tried that!

So we're stuck here without being able to understand what happened, how it happened, or where on earth poor Miki might be.  All we can hope for is that he's safe somewhere, and eventually someone contacts us about him...