Stuck in the Past

It has very little to do with the photo of the front end of a Crosley.  The only thing relating the two is that I saw the Crosley on the same day as the following happened.

Skip's, our favorite burger and fries (Susie-Qs) joint is closing for the season today and since 'A' works today and we couldn't go, we went yesterday.  Actually, as we found out last year, dining there on closing day isn't good.  They run out of all the good stuff.  As it happens, yesterday they were out of both vanilla and coffee syrups.  We had to get black & white frappes instead of our favorites of either...yeah, vanilla or coffee.

But that's not what this post is supposed to be about...

We ran a lot of errands on our way to Skip's.  The timing and locations of those errands resulted in a trip up I-95 getting off at Rte. 113 to head into Newburyport.  Mom wanted to stop at "Oldies", an antique and junk shop.  So...off the exit and on to Rte. 113 east.  It starts as a four - laner (two each way) and after a couple traffic lights becomes High Street with one lane in each direction.  Now at this point I must say that there are the two opposing lanes each flanked by a bicycle lane, then on-street parallel parking.  As I was driving along that section, I heard a horn blaring.  What the heck?  Where was that coming from?  Then I caught a glimpse of a little Hyundai passing me on the right...in the bicycle lane!  NUTSO!!!  She, yes a 20ish woman, scooted that car right in between mine and the car I was so nicely following.  I couldn't believe it.  As we continued down High Street, Ms. Hyundai kept pulling ahead to tailgate the car in front and swerving into the bicycle lane like she was trying to pass them as well.  Finally, with a long blast of her horn...she did it again!  By now we had memorized her license plate...just in case.  I'd love to post that info here...probably shouldn't so I won't. So now the line up working from back to front...me, the second car she passed, Ms. Hyundai, more vehicles.  Then the second car she passed turned off High Street and I found myself, once again, behind Ms. Hyundai.  We eventually came to a stop at the traffic light at the top of Market Street.  Ms. Hyundai couldn't sit still.  Did she have some high energy rap music playing in her car?  She was bouncing all over the place.  The light changed to green and we were all off again..Ms. Hyundai swerving behind yet another vehicle.  I'd gone far past our destination and needed to turn down a side street and backtrack so I have no idea what eventually happened or where Ms. Hyundai finally went.  All the time we were hoping for a police car and there was not one in sight.  Never is when you want one, is there?

But what I'd totally forgotten, and what prompted the title to this post, is that among the three of us in our car there were three functioning cell phones.

Yep, we should have called her in.

Blame the Moon

It was a full one over the weekend, wasn't it?

Warning: This post is filled with totally unrelated incidents. Do not try to make sense of it.

I'll give you a short update on my trip out to Thacher Island. Weather was fantastic - HOT! A good day to be on the cool Atlantic. The reed organ is managing quite well...considering that it spends winters alone, with no heat. Either one of the repaired cracks in the soundboard has caused a minor separation at reed cells 11 and 12 of the Dulciana or those two pallets are binding on each other for some reason. There was not enough time to find out and fix it, as I was only there for two hours. I may make a run out late season or most likely wait until early season next year. The organ is amazingly tight. I pumped 'her' up until the spill opened, then depressed middle C (Dulciana stop).

And waited,
And waited,
58 seconds later and I finally could hear no sound.
I'm very pleased.
As you may have noticed, the photos do not go with the organ details. BUT, they ARE photos that I took while out there.

Shocker of shockers the other day. As y'all know, we (as in several in the immediate vicinity) have been having unruly behavior and excessively long duration-ed barking from a particular dog. For nearly two years! No polite requests or even dog officer visits have made a difference. I've shoveled more doggie-do and tossed it back to it's home from the front of our yard than I really care to remember. As I walked through my kitchen, yesterday, on my way to the cellar stairs, I witnessed the following:
Owner of said dog walking across toward our yard.
Owner of said dog having one plastic bag in hand.
Owner of said dog actually bending over and scooping up an enormous pile into the bag.
Owner of said dog tying up the bag and...
Taking it home!!!!!!!!!!
More bird pictures instead of dogs. These sparrows loved feeding on leftover seaweed on the traps by Motif #1.

I warned you.

Mom and I went to pick up all the tile for the back splash in her kitchen last week. I told her that she needed to go through the 3 boxes and check all of it for defects. The defects would be set aside to be used for cuts (the need for a partial tile). Each box has 10 'sheets' of mosaic tile. 30 sheets total and 20 were damaged! She called the tile store. They are reordering. I think the distribution truck must have driven over those boxes!

Thursday night (or should I say Friday morning?), I woke up in the middle of the night (don't get literal here, you know what I mean). I rolled over to see what time it was. The clock read 4:44. I went back to sleep only to awake a bit later. I looked at the clock once again as the sky was bright and I thought maybe it was time to get up. Nope, this time it was 5:55. Too weird. Saturday night (Sunday morning) I awoke and it was still dark outside. Glanced at the clock...1:23. Still kinda weird, but I've slept well since.
Last night was the annual meeting of the Thacher Island Association. I'm a member so I went. Paul gave an excellent presentation. The usual meeting 'official' stuff aside (he failed to mention my article in the Reed Organ Quarterly during his report on publicity, even though I had a color copy made for him), the PowerPoint presentation for past efforts and upcoming events was super. Then he finished with a short video thank you to all the volunteers. The organ was shown several times with the various keepers playing it. They have changed-up the web site so go ahead and check it out (I'm going to). What is the address, you wonder? It's in the sidebar to the right!

While Disconnected

Finally. I got a phone call on Friday evening from my computer guy. My PC was set to go, all sparkly and updated with the latest anti-virus and spyware. Yes, I could do this myself, but I would spend more money. That's right, it costs me less to have it done professionally than to buy the updates myself!

Anyway, when I dropped PC off to ACC (my computer wiz), he asked how I was doing. "I'm feeling a bit disconnected," I replied. And I did, feel that way, that is. Now, I did have my little, cranky laptop and I checked email twice each day and read some blogs. Everything took many times longer on that little laptop. It wasn't happy. I talked to it quite a bit, not always nicely. But it and I survived the four days and now we are both happy. I have PC back and laptop gets to sleep in it's dark, zippered bag, tucked away in the corner of my closet.

Some interesting stuff happened while I was feeling disconnected. The manager of that East Gloucester restaurant called for the annual pre Memorial weekend tuning. I always dread that job. Rarely is there a parking spot nearby, the piano is a nightmare to get into with it's over sized, artist palette painted lid that requires three people to slide it tailwards and balance on a couple bar stools. Then there's the manager...
Amazingly, I was able to park nearly in front of the building. Amazingly, the piano was not too terribly out of tune so I wasn't quite so nervous about that precariously balanced lid. Amazingly, the manager...well some things don't change.

I had a surprise call this week. Some of you who have been reading here for awhile might remember a certain problem with a local tech. Well, said tech called me and came very near to apologizing. Sort of spewed compliments rather than sorries, but was trying to communicate the same message which, ultimately, was that my services were needed. I'll give most anyone a second chance and I agreed to the job. Keys were dropped off on Friday and it is a decent amount of work to be completed in a week. Tech has already called trying to change things around but I'd gotten too far into the job. Iffy that I'll consider any more work for this tech in the future after seeing and hearing the tech on Friday.

Saturday was my first craft fair of the year. I was not very optimistic about the entire endeavor and was feeling like I'd made a mistake signing up for the fair. I felt even worse when I saw the turnout of participants. The organizer remarked that only seven had signed up. That was going to look very unattractive to shoppers. Then, as the opening time passed, it was obvious that two participants were no-shows. Only five tables! A little pottery, some photography, beaded jewelry, doll clothes, and my miniatures and ivory jewelry. I pretty much figured I would be taking a loss. But, somehow, I sold stuff! There was never an enormous crowd. People just trickled in and out. Every once in a while there were a dozen or so folks at a time. But, I sold stuff! Two easel miniatures, one pair of earrings, and eleven necklaces. I still can't believe it. And the rain even held off until I had packed up, rolled my belongings to my truck on T-Wharf, and loaded up.

This week I'm building a seven foot rocket. Don't worry, it's inoperable.

The Eyes Have It

A new book is in the sidebar. Once again - cats! Homer's Odyssey is more than a cute cat story, it's a cute blind cat story and much more. Check it out and see the incredible amount Homer has to teach about life and faith.

Then there's Wanda the Psychic. She's a local business woman. A few months ago, I noticed that Wanda was being dropped off at her 'office' and she was on crutches. Don't you think a smart psychic would have seen THAT coming and avoided it? Just the other day, the ambulance horn sounded. There were sirens and flashing lights in abundance as the emergency vehicles arrived to carry out one of Wanda's clients. Two reasons I will not be visiting Wanda the Psychic.

Things Aren't What They Should Be

A twist on a favorite song - "Things Ain't What They Used to Be"

That's true, too. (Or as Dorothy Donegan said, "Sure ain't.")

So, my darling, fellow clerk on Sundays has decided that she doesn't want to work the job anymore. Now, it doesn't seem to matter that thousands of people would love to have ANY job and can't find one. Nor does it matter that she gave her word that she would work through the Labor Day holiday. "Seems, according to them, that I signed a contract or something," she said to me. "I tried to quit, but they said I can't." I tried to nicely remind her that, contract or not, she had given her word, people were counting on her. That trust is one of the more important things. Yeah, life's real tough with just 6 days left to finish out her obligation (she works two days/week). She has come up with a solution, though. A solution bound to alienate many people. I'm first in line, another clerk second, and I'm sure many customers will walk away with bad vibes. She comes to work. Ten minutes late each time. Sunday, she stretched her 30 minute dinner break in to 45 minutes, throwing off everyone else having their break afterward. She blatantly text messaged in front of me (and customers). And she did almost NOTHING. Yep, a BIG fat nothing. Oh, she waited on some customers, but never lifted a finger to fill any candy or clean. Nope nothing. Just a sullen body getting paid the same as the rest of us that are forced to pick up the slack. No worries, she thinks. Next summer she plans to tour Europe with her boyfriend. Uh huh. I've only got three more shifts with her and I've got some plans of my own (sly grin). Did I mention she's 16? Lots of growing up for that girl.

****************************

Seems there are a lot of folks that you just can't trust. It's hard to know if you can even hold polite conversation. When a ten minute chat is later conveyed as 'spent the evening with', when a son changes to a 'friend'. When visiting a local college this week changes to setting up a visit sometime. A business client has sort of creeped me out. Spookier yet is that he stayed around the immediate area and I hadn't a clue. Don't know much about him. He has an in-state out of area cell number, out of state license plates, lots of 'professions' and stories. The more I hear, well, creepy.

****************************

A few weeks back I made a terrible mistake.

"Mom, if you want to, we should check to see if the Pergo that you have in the rest of the house is still available. We could continue it in to your bedroom."

Wasn't long before I was hauling 7 extremely heavy boxes of flooring from the back of her vehicle up the stairs to stack in her parlor - waiting for installation - by me.

Last Saturday, on a beautifully hot and humid day, with no air conditioning, I cut up and hauled out wall-to-wall carpeting and padding. I removed all the tack strips and all the baseboards. Tomorrow, all achy from work irritated arthritis, I'll begin installing her flooring. Oh yeah, another scorcher tomorrow!

But that's not what I really want to tell you. We had one extra box of the Pergo from when I floored her den and hallway nearly two years ago (wow, where did that time go?). It was stored down in the cellar on top of my weight bench (no comments on that please). On top of the box of flooring was stored a rolled up all-weather mat for the inside of Mom's front doorway. She uses it in the winter, usually, but didn't this past winter. When I moved the mat I noticed a puddle on the box of flooring. I confirmed that there was no plumbing overhead. I went to check the mat, which I had stood on end, out of the way. The concrete floor was very wet beneath the mat.

Huh.

I got my mom to take the mat outside and hang it over the deck railing to dry. Lots of water dripped out of it making a narrow river of moisture along one decking board. The narrow river looked a little dirty and I had just spent 5 hours scrubbing and cleaning the deck last weekend so my mom took the hose to it to wash it down well. By the end of the day the deck had dried. The mat was still oozing so it had been moved to a better spot, off deck, to dry. The next morning the little river was back! By day's end it had dried up... only to return the next morning.Here's a picture I took before it dried up today. And although it's just a short bit in the picture, each morning the entire wet stripe is about 8 feet long. I have figured out why the mat was wet. Can you? But what's up with the deck? Can't wait until morning to check it out again.

Too...

late, tired, achy, irritated, hungry, and brain-dead to write anything right now. It's been a weird start to the week.

Well, of course it has.

I'll tell you all about it later.

A Bunch of Them

Really, really wacky people!

First phone call was from a guy who was a merchant marine, previously lived in London (asked if he were detecting a Brit accent in my voice), sort of works on pianos (occasionally), is running for an elected office in an adjacent city, is trying to 'fix up' a piano at a senior apartment complex and it's an ex-player, wants to know if 'guts' can be found for it. No piano name, oh and he's in a local play, and another (un-named here) piano tuner gave him my name and number...and my mom's number (which he tried as well after first leaving a message on my machine). "If it's meant to be it will fall in place." He was referring to the player mechanism. Told him he needed to be armed with a lot more info before he even starts thinking of it.

Next phone call, from XXXXX XXX, calling from London, will be in Gloucester in a fortnight, wants to hire a high end keyboard. Did I do that? No. Gave him a company name in Danvers with a name that bears a similarity to a local tech. He asks about the phone book listing for the local tech. Would they have a keyboard? No, you need the one in Danvers. Thanks for help. Ta.

Phone call number three. Do you work on repairing pianos? Yes. Has a reed organ and saw my advert on a local bulletin board for the Moline organ. Has it sold? No. Oh, would you like to have mine? No. Was evicted and has a Chickering grand and a reed organ in storage, have I tuned for any of the local churches? (I list a few) Oh, would you like my reed organ? No. How much to restore and how long? I tell her. What if you just do the bellows and nothing else? I don't do that because there are many other parts that need restoring in an instrument that is over one hundred years old. Understood. Grandfather worked for Chickering. Uh huh. She would give me the organ. No thanks. Oh, sorry, my other line is ringing and I'll have to answer it. Best to you.

Sigh.

Of Turkeys and Tuning

The same day that K-D commented about having wild turkeys, this picture was in the GDTimes on the Rockport page.The South End has been a turkey haven for a number of years. Nowadays, I'm quite aware of them when I have a tuning job in that neck of the woods. A few years ago, being somewhat new to the area after an 18 year absence, I wasn't quite so knowledgeable.

As I recall the tuning was booked for a weekday afternoon in November. A local physician needed a small, old grand tuned. Neither he nor his wife would be home he informed me over the phone, but one of their teenagers would let me in. The check would be waiting for me at the piano. Normally, I don't enter a client's home without an adult present. Especially on a first time job. But this is Rockport and as much as I hate to acknowledge the fact...some things are just different here. I found the address and parked my truck in front of the home, alongside a stone wall. There were several granite steps bisecting the wall and connecting to the front walk leading to the house. As promised, the teen aged daughter let me in and showed me to the piano. The tuning was uneventful and after about an hour's work I was finished. I called out, to the daughter somewhere in the house, that everything was set with the piano, thank you, and if there were any problems or questions her folks could give me a call. I let myself out the front door, my heavy tool kit in hand and my lunch box sized chemical kit (glues and such) over my shoulder. I struggled down the granite steps while fumbling to get my keys out of my pocket, rounded the back of the truck and saw more than a dozen turkeys waiting for me! They had control over the driver's side of my truck!

They looked mean. And territorial. And far too interested in me.

I inched myself back. Around the rear of the truck and then looked to see that the passenger side was still turkey free. It was and I quickly unlocked the door and threw myself in along with my tool kit and glue kit. Once inside, with the passenger door secured behind me, I sorted out myself and my kits. Then I counted turkeys.

Well, as best as one can count that many as they milled about my truck! I used to know how many, now years later, I can merely say A LOT. Yep, more than a dozen, less than two dozen.

I started the engine but they refused to move. A quick toot of the horn and they jumped the wall and sauntered off across my customer's front lawn.

And I'm Shaking My Head

Spring has sprung. Mr. Revlon is ba-ack! For you non-locals, Mr. Revlon is actually a member of the cosmetic family. Unfortunately, he apparently suffers from something at least resembling schizophrenia. He used to live here all the time. Then he disappeared and I heard that he had been relocated to a group home near Hamilton. He has made several appearances back in town over the last couple years. Our first sighting, this year, at Five Corners, revealed him as more bedraggled than ever. Slighlty heavier, but still with wild man hair and bushy beard and sporting the same turquoise and white jacket from our last year's sightings. Two different shoes. I think he sometimes hires a taxi to come back 'home'.

A couple days ago, I decided that it was time to take the 4 tubes of sand out of the back of my truck. They are in there to increase driving traction in the snow. Each tube of sand weighs 70 lbs. As I slid the first one out off the tailgate aiming to lower the end on to the two wheeled dolly, I dropped it. On my foot. A direct hit on my all ready aching arthritic knuckle just topside of the ball of my right foot. I tried to ignore the pain, the sick to my stomach feeling, and just keep it moving. It succeeded until I got out of bed the next morning! Ouch! I took a look and found a decently ugly bruise. It sort of screams when I put my shoe on even two days later. Tomorrow I get to be on my feet at work for 6 hours. Should be a screaming good time!

Our neighbors have decided to have a large tree removed and their driveway redone. Hurray to both things. But, that, combined with warmer weather and with the neighborhood kiddies on their motorized bikes, scooters, and mini 'cars', we decided to re-declare our ownership of the 'back drive' with PRIVATE WAY signs. Non-offensively small, they are meant only as a reminder to the adult neighbors and a legal deterrent to the kiddies. We don't want any liability for injuries of those who decide to trespass! BTW, I've never seen such a bizarre and involved method of tree removal! Couldn't have made it harder on themselves!

I was gazing out our door yesterday and spotted what appeared to be a large bubble on the lawn. I looked and looked. Could it really be a bubble? It was a clear orb, about 6 inches in diameter. It had a slightly reflective quality. Puzzled, I got my camera and headed out on a discovery mission. As I got closer, I could see a multitude of bright blue fragments 'through' the bottom of the orb. I took a picture, then gave it a nudge with my foot. It is a liquid filled ball with trillions of bits of blue glitter inside. Okay, maybe just thousands. Heck, for a toy, it is wonderful to watch the swirling glitter catch the light in waves and cascades. I brought it inside. It's a 'keeper'. I haven't a clue where it came from, no one had been around between when I had arrived home a mere 5 minutes prior to discovering the ball. Maybe, it was like the flying turkey breast, of years ago, that landed on our deck with a thump. Just dropped out of the sky...
fully cooked.
I'm not lying.

Monday Madness

or...Grandma said the water was fine here!

'A' and I went on errands Monday morning. One stop was at our local Ace Hardware, also known as Smith Lumber. I only needed two items, a couple disposable foam paint brushes and a couple dozen screw 'L's. I knew where the brushes were and grabbed them first. I couldn't find the packages of screw 'L's so I asked an employee that I know.

"Do you have screw 'L's?"

"What?"

"Screw 'L's. You know, like screw hooks only shaped like an 'L'!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I thought you wanted to screw elves!"

Funny.

Then a gentleman in the same aisle said he was looking for small nuts.

"You found her."

So we got the brushes and we got the 'L's and we headed for the check out line. Oh my! Picture this...twin ladies, about 75 years old, each decked out in full length raccoon coats and tight knit caps, trying to return a vacuum cleaner that they had purchased some time ago and had decided that they weren't happy with...on their credit card, no store receipt, hauled it in in a laundry/grocery cart which was now blocking the aisle. They wouldn't accept a store credit. The manager was paged...just as Mr. ZZZZ arrived. Last we heard, from friends, Mr. ZZZZ and his daughter had a rather raucous food fight at a local restaurant. Quite honestly, most folks have been trying to avoid them in recent years. No wonder.

Another register opened and 'A' and I headed for it to get checked out. On our drive home we saw 'crutch lady' walking up Main Street. Carrying her crutch per the norm. 'A' turned to me, rolled her eyes, and asked, "What's up with people today?"

"It must be the water around here," I answered.
"Grandma always says the water is soooo good here, straight out of the tap."

Uh huh.

I'd Be Getting Nervous

Heck, I would have been nervous months ago.

Today was my big day off and out. This morning I went to church, which is always a wonderful respite. Then I went home and had a relaxing lunch. Just as the rain began to fall, around 1:30, I headed for the second meeting of the Music Book Group. Today's book discussion centered around Piano Lessons, by Noah Adams. This month the group was smaller than last month, some of the same folks and a few new ones. Pleasant and I'm actually going to miss attending when I go back to work at my seasonal candy selling job.

When I got back home there was a message on my machine from a tech. Mr. G. left a very long and convoluted message. The gist of it being that he was trying to get in touch with a man in Maine who does ivory keyboard work. He had been trying to reach him and getting no response. He wondered if I knew him or anything about him. SIX MONTHS AGO he had sent him two keyboards for ivory work and hasn't heard a thing!

SIX MONTHS AGO!

I have yet to return the phone call. I wanted to have some helpful info before I called back. What harm will a few more hours be when it's been over six months? So this evening I did some research. The guy in Maine seems to be alive. He gave a presentation to his local Rotary Club this past December and there is no mention of his death in the Rotary newsletter. He does occasionally visit Florida (he attended a 'makeup' Rotary meeting there). Maybe he's there right now. He lists his profession as 'Antiques' yet neither his address nor a business name show up in the directory of antique businesses in his town. His name is not in the online obituaries. I noted the Rotary Club's president's name and phone number and I'll give this info to the Mr. G. technician when I call him.

Yep, I'd be real nervous by six months.

Sometimes You Just Never Know...

who's going to be on the other end of that phone line!

Today was a busy day. 'A' wanted to go to Target to pick up some things to amuse herself while stuck home after having her wisdom teeth extracted tomorrow. I was expecting a guy to be picking up a set of keys around noontime, so we made the dash to the mall mid-morning and were back home by 11 a.m. When I got in the house there was a message on the machine from the key guy. He was going to be a little early and hoped that would be convenient. So, got him in and out and then had lunch and checked email. There were a couple messages that needed semi-urgent replies, so I took care of that. 'A' worked at 3 p.m. and we arrived there to a full parking lot. Why? Well, we're due to get another 8 or so inches of snow tomorrow. Yep, here we go again and I've got to get her to the oral surgeon and back, then pick up prescriptions for her. What fun.

Anyway, I was having a leisurely afternoon, working on some necklaces, eating ice cream, and watching some DIY on television when the phone rang.

I looked at the caller id. Florida. Pinellas County (where we lived). But the number wasn't familiar. I answered in my best business voice thinking maybe it was some tech with key work.

Nope.

You'll never guess this one in a million years.

It was the community liaison and volunteer coordinator for San Jose Elementary School, in Dunedin, FL. This is the school 'A' attended and where I was a volunteer. So what's up with this call, I thought.

The woman carried on and on about it being the 50th anniversary year of the school. She told me about all the special events that would be happening. (I get it! She's going to ask for money, right?)

Wrong.

They had decided to use a painting that I had done depicting the school (and I had donated to the school) as the feature in their program. Some people had requested that it be made in to art prints, to be sold to benefit the school PTA. And, they needed my permission.

WOW! Sure go for it! Just please would you send me a copy?

So there you go. How totally unexpected. I asked how they found me and she said that she had not really known how to start, other than to call everyone in the county phone book with my last name. She came across 'A's dad by doing that, and he gave her my phone number and address. They are also printing up a bio for the program taken from my staff bio on the WHOA web site, which they found while searching for me. She's going to send a packet to me with everything from the celebration. They had hoped I could be there, but of course that's a no-go.

Oh yeah, she said that the school's media center (library) was being renovated and she hoped to have a plaque made to go along with the painting as it is displayed in the media center.

How cool is that?

Rolling Rocks On

An update.

After breakfast this morning I took a bit of time gazing out the front window at my mom's front garden. Smack in the middle was a large piece of granite. Now, this garden is a mixture of rock garden plantings and perennials, but that rock looked wrong. I called my mother to have a look.

"Is that piece of granite supposed to be there?"

It didn't look right to her either, so I bundled myself up against the cold and went to check it out.

Someone had pushed another boulder off the wall. This time in the opposite direction and it landed on top of some plantings. I rolled and shoved and twisted it back in to place on the wall.

This is getting ridiculous.

The Rolling Stones

Do you all remember when I wrote about the mud hole that had been created in front of our house by trucks turning their large wheels and tearing up the grass on the road side of our stone wall? I think that I mentioned that I had gone out and raked everything smooth and then placed a few large hunks of granite along the front so that my leveling work wouldn't be undone.

I think, about the same time, I may have mentioned that the streetlight at the corner of our lot had finally given up and gone out. We had called the power company and had been surprised when the truck showed up the next night. We had also been surprised the next morning when we found that the power company had removed the entire lamp and left just the arm with a couple wires hanging out up there on the pole.

This week marked week six of no streetlight so I called the power company once again. The representative that I spoke with said that the records showed that the lamp had been reinstalled. The job had been 'signed off'! Not so, I said, so she filed a new work order. We were tired of being 'kept in the dark' literally. Especially with Halloween just a couple days away. So I took the time to rig a spotlight for the front area where my mom parks her car...her brand new car...with Halloween approaching...with some neighborhood kids who, quite frankly, are more than unhappy with us. Thursday night we tried out the spotlight. We temporarily plugged the extension inside the house rather than fumbling in the dark to find the outside receptacle. We headed for the front window to take a look.

Lo and behold the streetlight was fixed!

National Grid must have come while we were out for the afternoon!

Hooray!

Friday morning came around and I noticed that a very large piece of granite was dislocated from the wall on the same side of the driveway as the utility pole. I went over to take a look thinking that the utility truck may have caught the corner of the wall dislodging the boulder. I wasn't really convinced once I had a good look. Seems more damage would have had to have been done if a truck had accidentally caught that boulder. Oh well, it was too large for me to move back into place.

Friday night's trick-or-treaters crammed our little dead end lane. Being a dead end seems to encourage 'drop offs'. Carloads of kids are let loose on our street rather than trick-or-treating in their own neighborhoods. We had our front light and walk lights turned on and my mom handed out piles of candy. They started around five p.m. and things were quiet by eight.

Saturday morning I decided to catch up on some winterizing chores like draining all the garden hoses and putting them away, taking down the temporarily rigged spotlight, and putting garden ornaments in the shed. I took a moment to take a walk around the property to see that all was undamaged and unmarred from the previous night. As I walked around the front, something just didn't seem right. It looked like someone had parked in front and left indentations in the slowly healing former mud hole. Then it dawned on me. What I was seeing were the imprints left from the granite that I had edged with a couple months ago. Someone had moved eight large pieces of granite during the night. They had been rolled through the grass and left nearer the wall.

Adding to my irritation was the enormous pile of dog mess in front of one of the boulders.

Off I went to get the shovel from out of the shed. I scooped up that pile and deposited it in the middle of the road. What else was I to do with it? If anyone would like to claim it they are welcome to dispose of it. It's not mine and it doesn't belong on my property nor in my garbage can. I rolled the boulders back to their indentations.

Now I'm determined to catch whoever is rolling my stones.

That Spooky Kinda Feeling...

Just in time for Halloween!

We need to travel back a few years. Back to February 2005. Things were a bit weird then, with my name and contact info having been posted on some raunchy message boards. The Internet version of the bathroom wall. Beyond not being amusing, it can also be quite dangerous. You never know who may be out there........nearby. What they might do. It was at that time that I started receiving obscene phone calls and hang-ups. All from numbers originating in Louisiana. There were a total of six different numbers, repeated calls from several. One afternoon, while I was working in the shop, I decided to try answering one of the calls again. Just to see if they would hang up. Another mumbling of obscenities. I hung up. The phone rang again, nearly immediately. Same number. I didn't answer. This time he left a message. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Same number, similar disgusting message.

And again, again, and again. No more messages. Just hang-ups. All from the same Louisiana phone number. This guy was mad.

The phone didn't stop ringing. It was continual. The guy must have been dialing, letting it ring a couple times, hanging up and dialing again. Over and over. Eventually I took it 'off the hook' for the rest of the afternoon. After dinner I connected it again and all was fine. I took the recording from the answering machine to the police. They agreed that it was caused by my info being 'out there' and we knew who was responsible. I researched the numbers. Most came from cell phones.

We came to denote the series of phone calls as the 'Louisiana Calls'. After one month they ceased.

October 6, 2008. The phone rang and I checked the caller id. The number showed up with the designation underneath: 'Louisiana Call'

What?

Now, actually, I'm not really spooked by the phrase showing up on my caller id. I'm just finding it quite curious. My system displays the number and name, or number and state only, or private, or out of area. It does not use MY coined phrases!

Oh yeah, the call was from a cell phone.

Mail Call

YES!FINALLY! Three long weeks.
I think they heard your threat, Mary!

Key Difference

"When you receive the box of keys that I just shipped, please call me if you find ......my car keys inside!"

Yep, there they were.

Who's Out There?

You just never know who may be reading. Sometimes it is amazing to hear from someone who's life has become, in a weird and detached way, part of your own life saga. This happened to me last week. Of course it was during a full moon. Isn't that when that kind of stuff happens?

Anyway, this is the tale. And Paul, this is for you if you are still out there.

On the night of the full moon I checked my email late. I couldn't believe my eyes. There on the screen was an email from an unknown address with the subject matter: Minoan. Paul had found me to tell me that he had purchased the 36 foot, ferro-cement sailboat that my father had built over 30 years ago. He was hoping for some pictures and also the construction dates. Some of the information that Paul gave about himself and the circumstances of his purchase made me suspicious (sorry Paul, the reasons are a very long story that are only barely touched upon in the archives of this blog). I took some time to check out his story. So far so good, therefore I am posting here.

The Internet certainly has a way of making a very small world. Consider the odds of Paul, from England, buying a 30 year old sailboat, in the states, built by my dad, ever being able to find me before the Internet. Not likely.

So for Paul, I would never be able to post (or email) all the photographs that we have of the construction of the Minoan. I'll post a few here with brief descriptions. If you want to see them all, you may get in touch when you arrive at the Minoan in May.

I'll start with the finish! Here's the Minoan sailing out of Rockport Harbor. And now for the start.......

In our backyard the wood lathe mold took shape.
The mold covered with a layer of polyethylene film, four layers of sparrow mesh, a grid of quarter inch steel rod, and another four layers of sparrow mesh. All stitched together with very long basting of wire to be less than 7/8ths of an inch in thickness. The area that would serve as the support for the rudder post included a welded steel channel structure. My dad was a firm believer in over-engineering.
Cementing day it was 90°F, the specialized mixture is completely forced through all the layers to stop at the polyethylene film barrier. It took over 12 hours and many hands - neighbors, friends, relatives, my dad's engineers, strangers. A reporter and photographer from LIFE magazine spent the day and we were featured in the September 1970 issue. They took over two hundred photos that day and presented us with a large (photos too large for my scanner) photo album. In the above photograph, all of the hull and deck have been cemented and the finish surface is being worked on. It 'cured' for 30 days, being kept damp with a perforated hose atop a complete cover of burlap bags under polyethylene. Then all the wood lathe mold was stripped out. Dragon Cement Co. (part of Martin Marietta Corp) came to do an interview and take photos for their company publication.
Time to roll it over! Here's the roll over crew. This was a nerve-racking day. There were some tense moments considering that the hull weighed approximately 5 tons! It was rolled over with a combination of twin wheels, railroad jacks (used to right derailments) and railroad come-alongs traveling through our cellar windows and attached to the support columns of the house.

So, for now, that's a hint at the construction of the Minoan. It was still several years from completion with all the cabin to build and all the essentials of engine, steerage, electrical, plumbing, standing and running rigging, ballast, sail design, and hundreds of details. Upon completion she weighed approximately 10 tons, had a full galley, head, and could sleep five very comfortably.

And how, you ask, does 10 tons of cement float?
Like a teacup..............displacement.

Maybe some more another time.

Don't Call Us, We Don't Call You!

Probably about half of you know about a certain criminal harassment case that my local police have filed, on my behalf, against my ex. After over 4 years of nasty harassing emails, impersonating me online and trying to ruin my business the ex finally got the message. Mostly. Sort of. Well, I guess he figures email and online stuff are out of the question because, quite frankly, he got caught. Since he is now residing in the 'motherland' UK, the only current result of the pending case is that he would be arrested if he tried to enter this country.

So what's a bored ex to do?

There's always my parent's (now mom's) telephone.

Gee whiz.

Back on October 9, 2006, we came home to my folk's house and there was a message on their answering machine. We had just missed it by minutes. Twas the ex looking for me. I *69'd the call, wrote down the phone number and got online to check a reverse look-up. I was amazed to discover that the number had been discontinued 3 months prior and had belonged to an international software company that was being investigated in a multi-million dollar fraud case. Hah! What a number to have 'spoofed'*.

So I made a tape recording of the digital message and added it to the somewhat dormant case file at the police station. They offered to file additional charges against the ex, but my thoughts were why bother.

Fast forward over a year and here we go again!

Tuesday, my mom and I went to Barnes & Noble bookstore so that I could pick up my copy of "Schuyler's Monster" (see the sidebar). When we got back to her house about 2 hours later, I noticed that there were two messages on her machine. I headed for my place while my mom got settled in and I heard her start the answering machine. When I went back downstairs, she called to me to have a listen.

Two calls from the same place by two different people. Same background noise on both calls. Similar message as the one in 2006..."Hello, hello, is anyone there, I'm looking for Mr. (insert my dad's given name instead of mine), hello, hello?" Funny how when listening to the background noise my ex's name is mentioned, loud and clear. The first voice is definitely his, the second voice sounds like someone who is trying way too hard to change their accent!

So, I make another tape recording, just in case. I didn't check the number as I am too busy to bother. I haven't bothered reporting it to the police or giving them a copy of the recording. This is just sooooooooo utterly absurd. I find it hard to believe that someone can't find something more interesting to do with his time!

*Spoofing - getting digital access to 'steal' a phone number for usually fraudulent use. In another instance my Caller ID showed 000-000-0000. I called the phone company to ask, "What's up with this?" They said it's not possible unless someone had the computer software to 'use' whatever numbers they wished in an attempt to disguise the origin of the call.

D____, he must have a boring life.

Just Bizarre

Of course the holiday season is a busy time for a piano technician. Seems a lot of people that own pianos that haven't been serviced in decades, decide that they just have to be tuned before Christmas. If I'm out of the house for more than a half hour, I'm sure that my answering machine will be blinking when I return.

I tuned for the Rockport Art Association early this afternoon. While in town, after I finished the tuning, I strolled over to Tuck's Candy to see Bob and Eunice. Bob was there but Eunice wasn't. Then I took a walk out Bearskin Neck. I returned home at about 2:30 p.m. It was nice to have a bit of down time, but after relaxing for an hour or so I decided to get some housework done. Out came the vacuum and I made a quick job of vacuuming the entire house. All 700 square feet of it! Afterwards, I played around online for a bit and then made myself an early dinner and watched the news. Amanda needed to be picked up from work at 7:30 and as I was heading for the door to go get her I noticed the caller ID flashing.

Huh, how had I missed a call?

Oh yeah, the vacuuming.

I decided to listen to the message before leaving.

It was one of the oddest business calls I've ever received.

It started with some incoherent mumbling and then the lady gave her name. I couldn't understand exactly what she said. Something like Toochoo? I couldn't figure out the first name even after a repeat playing. Then she said she lived in Rhode Island, in a town that is nearly 2.5 hours drive from here (one way). She has a player piano that she wants me to fix. Could I please stop by? She is very anxious to have it playing again. Especially with Christmas so close. Would I please come down and fix it for her.

All the time her speech seemed disjointed and mildly garbled yet it was possible to concentrate closely and make sense of the sounds. Then she left her phone number, emphasizing to dial 711 (or is it 771? oh well I've written it down somewhere) first so as to use the service for people with impaired hearing.

Now I understand!

But why is she calling me? I'm far too far away. There are two player piano technicians near her in Rhode Island and there are a total of five others closer to her than me! I checked my business email when I got online tonight hoping that she had sent an email as well as phoning. I'm quite sure she found my info through a player piano site. Seems since she would have the email address it would be the easiest way to communicate. No such luck.

So, armed with the names and phone numbers of the two techs near her, I'll be calling her sometime tomorrow. I'll let her know that I just don't travel that far!

'Tis the season.

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Note: New sidebar link to the webcams at Clearwater Beach.