Being Different

Just like this Hydrangea I am usually juggling multiples. I have to have many different types of things going on at once. And frankly, I enjoy being a bit different and having a variety of interests. As a point of fact, this plant is supposed to have deep, rusty rose blooms. Until this year, it did. Now it's pink, purple, blue, and a very pale rose.

Anyway, my point...Dickiebo did a 'what your taste in music says about you' questionaire and posted his results. Annette then did the same and got the same results as Dickiebo. So....I gave it a go.

And of course, came up with a different result:

Your musical tastes are reflective and complex. You are intellectual to the point of being cerebral. You are very open to new experiences, and even more open to new ideas and theories. Wisdom and personal accomplishment are important to you. You are naturally sophisticated. You are drawn to art, especially art by independent artists. You are likely to be financially well off... and not because you were born that way.

It was doing okay until the finances comment. Oh well maybe there's hope!

On a Roll

As seen in the Gloucester Times, July 19, 2008.Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

The Pod Promise

Technically it is known as the fruit from a Bunya-Bunya, or Monkey Puzzle tree. Dickiebo mentioned these on his blog. The fruit is a very, heavy, solid cone. They make quite a thud when hitting the ground or roof.

Anyway, in a comment on dickiebo's blog, I promised to post this picture. (I may have posted it a year ago or so. Haven't checked)
There you have it.

Things Have a Way of Catching Up

It's been a whirlwind of a few weeks. Far too much going on. In case you haven't been keeping up I'll summarize. Eleven sets of keys, total, within about ten days. Add to that the two days per week at Tuck's, and a craft fair. Then Mom decided it was time to look for a new car. Before she went for her next cataract surgery, that is. Oh yeah, can't forget about mowing the lawn and hauling the trash to the dump. Still waiting are the six replacement windows that I agreed to install.

I'm not doing the next craft fair. I'm waiting until the one scheduled for August 30, Labor Day weekend. Quite frankly, I haven't had enough time to create more stuff to sell. I did start on more necklaces last night.

Just so you know...the last of the sets of keys were shipped today. To the lady from the previous post. Yes, she finally got the 'balance due' check to me.

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So, why is buying a new car soooooo difficult? My mom had decided that she wanted either a silver Subaru Forrester or her second choice, a silver Toyota Rav4. Silver because neither the dirt, dust, and pollen nor the winter road salt show up too badly. Last Tuesday afternoon we started at the closest Subaru dealer. The salesman was quite nice but they didn't have any 2008 Forresters left other than one in bright blue. 'Twas ugly. The design changes in the 2009's made them very uncomfortable for both Mom and me. Even with the driver's seat in it's highest position, we could barely see above the dashboard. The salesman called his manager over. He was an extremely demeaning individual. He had nothing nice to say to us. Didn't even make an attempt. Among his many comments, "No one else has complained about the seat height in the new Forrester," he said.

Humph. Won't buy a car there.

We continued to the Toyota dealer down the road a bit. Since the Subaru dealer had tied us up for over two hours, we tried to limit our time at Toyota. That was tough. All we wanted to do was sit in a Rav4 to see if the visibility/seat height was good. Two and a half hours later we made our escape! We got home just in time to pick up Amanda from work. This gave me just enough time to look in the workshop to see how much I still had left to do.

The next morning I got up at 6 am and started to work. My midday was taken up with tuning jobs. Back home for dinner and then back to work until 10 pm.

Thursday it was back to car shopping. This time we headed further from home to the Subaru dealer in Wakefield. In the record time of two and a half hours, he managed to find my mother a silver, 2008 Forrester at another dealership over two hours away. That dealership wouldn't trade the car for anything the Wakefield dealership had on his lot. On the plus side, they were the nicest bunch of salesmen and managers we have met in our quest. Since I wasn't about to drive down to the 'other' cape to car shop, we left there and made a one hour drive north to Skip's for a very late lunch (or early dinner). The next dealership was only 15 minutes from there, in Haverhill.

The Haverhill dealer sold Toyotas and we looked at a silver Rav4 that he had on the lot. My mom was very interested and we got in to the price negotiation portion of car buying. This dealer tried everything. Maybe I should say he tried to make it LOOK like he tried everything to meet my mother's requirements. I'm not an idiot. It's not a deal when you just increase the downpayment, lengthen the payment schedule, and then say you've lowered the price. NOPE. We started to leave and the sales manager actually stood in my way, thisclose. This does not make me happy. I finally maneuvered around him and got to the door with my mother following close behind.

Almost three hours there.

It had become obvious that we were not going to be able to find the Forrester, so we headed back to the first Toyota dealership to see what kind of 'deal' we could get there. It was 7 pm when we arrived. We checked out a silver Rav4 that had only been at the dealership for two days. 11 miles on the odometer. We went inside and negotiations began. Mom bought the car. Pretty much within her terms. A better deal than Haverhill, by far. It was after 10:30 pm when we left to head home armed with an appointment to pick up the new Rav4 on Saturday afternoon. The cleaning crew was at work as we left!

Friday I tuned and I worked on keys some more...frantically, and mowed the lawn. Saturday morning was the trip to the dump.

Since Mom didn't want to drive an unfamiliar car home on the highway, I had to make the trip with her on Saturday. I would be the first to drive it! It takes about a half hour - one way. We arrived to pick up her new car at precisely 1 pm, as instructed. We waited. Paperwork. A half hour later we were told that we couldn't pick up the car. They needed to contact the Registry of Motor Vehicles because my dad's name was on the old registration. WE HAD TOLD THEM THIS NUMEROUS TIMES THURSDAY NIGHT! They had said it was no problem. We made another appointment for Tuesday morning. Here's Mom's new car in her driveway. Twenty and a half hours to get it.

Work, work, work. Tuck's and keys, Tuck's and keys. Only one tuning job scheduled for this week and I had to change it because of picking up the car on Tuesday morning. Today was set aside because of Mom's cataract surgery. Since a van picks up at the eye doctor's office and takes the patients to and from the surgery center, Mom thought there would be no problem for me to fit in a tuning job. Last time she didn't get back to the office until after four in the afternoon. I scheduled the tuning for two o'clock and arrived at the customer's a minute or so early. At two-thirty my cell phone rang. The patient van was returning to Gloucester. It would arrive in 40 minutes. !#$%^! I just made it to the parking lot to pick her up with only 4 minutes to spare.

Now, in the meantime!

I had planned to submit my 'Diamonds in the Rough' blog post for publication in the Piano Technician's Journal. I was just having a difficult time actually getting the revisions finished and emailing the editor. Today, he contacted me asking if they could publish the story. He had already read it on the Pianotech List and they had made their own edits. I gave him the go ahead. I like my final version better than their edited version, but what the heck - THEY asked to publish MY work!

Today, I did get a short descriptive paragraph and three photos about the Thacher Island reed organ submitted to the Gloucester Times. Wonder if I'll get published there as well!

Do You Have All Your Oars in the Water?

I'm dubious about this woman....................

I got two more sets of keys today. One expected, the other a surprise. The surprise was from a non-tech. I don't normally take in key work from non-techs. It's too much of a hassle for the price of the job. The one time I agreed to it was near disaster. Unfortunately, the classified ads in the PTG Journal (professional journal) are available online. Convenient for tech happy piano techs and usually not a problem, for me, with the general public as they haven't a clue how to get keys out of their piano.

Anyway, this box arrives. It's nearly falling apart. I didn't recognize the name on the return address. I opened the box to find a set of grand piano keys jammed inside in every direction. Marvelous, I thought, can't reship finished keys like that, I'll have to find a better, bigger box. That irks me right from the start.

Then I found this note inside in an envelope. I'll intersperse my thoughts as I read it, in color (like this).

Hello Deborah (Couldn't spell my name correctly but managed to get the address right),

I thought it would take forever to figure out how to dismantle my piano to remove these keys. I hope I can remember where all those screws go when it's time to put it all back together. (Oh no, not a piano tech.....Oops, you should have kept them in order and labeled them - good luck)

Enclosed is a personal check for $135 for the resurfacing of these keys. (Wonderful, it's an old price. Hasn't been that for over a year. Hope you included contact info and now I'm going to start wasting work time calling you to straighten it out) If questions arise that require my attention, my home phone number is (SNIP). If I'm not there, use my answering service and I will get back to you promptly. (Please be out when I call. I don't want to chat. Let me just leave a message about the price discrepancy. Then you can call me and leave a message. Really, I don't want to talk to you.)

We have eight-year-old twins who are studying music, and each kid has his own piano. They will have to take turns practicing this week, poor kids. (You send keys, unannounced, with the wrong payment, from halfway across the states, and you expect them to be back in your piano in a week? Don't think so. There are five other customers ahead of you.) Maybe this is a good time to learn some duets. (And find out how all those less privileged one piano households manage to survive)

I really appreciate your effort in making our old piano more enjoyable to play. (Gee, thanks) What will you do with the old ivory you remove? Black market? (You didn't really ask that, did you? Yeah, it's from your piano, if I sell it on the black market and should be caught, I may implicate you as an accomplice. Seriously, if you thought that I were dealing in the black market, why would you do business with me? Huh.) Ebay? (not worth the trouble) Just wondering. (And now I'm wondering about YOU) Hope all goes well with your work, and you'll be able to get the keys back to us soon.

(Did you ever think that I may be dead? on vacation? have sold the business? your keys could have been sitting on a doorstep in the rain for weeks? Don't you think calling ahead just might have been a good idea? Yeesh, lady.)

And an update............

I called. I got her (drat). I kept it simple. Told her the price had changed over a year ago. She said to "trust her", she's putting the balance in the mail tomorrow. I told her that her keys were in the work line up, thanks, bye.

I still can't believe she said black market!

February 5, 1922 - July 8, 2007

I miss you, Dad.

Oh My

Just a very quick post as I may not be here for a couple days. The way I feel now, could be years! (Just kidding).

The crafts fair was extremely busy today. Lots of lookers, not many buyers. I sold one easel mini and five ivory necklaces.

When I left the house early this morning, I reminded my mother to be on the lookout for a box of keys. I was expecting one more set to be arriving. Literally number eight of the latest bunch of the past week. When I got home she said that no boxes had arrived. Thank goodness, I've still got four sets in the workshop to finish up. At just before eight o'clock I headed out the door to pick up Amanda from work.

Guess what?

A box.

And not the one I was expecting. The box was from another tech customer for whom I routinely do key work.

I dragged it in the house and went to get Amanda.

Before I headed up to 'retire' (hah) for the night, I decided to open the envelope taped to the top of the box to see what work he needed done.

Oh my, there are TWO sets of keys in the box.

Numbers nine and ten in ten days.

So, add all that to two days at Tuck's, a piano moving job, three tunings, car shopping with mom, and mowing the lawn! I'll surface eventually!

Blog is Begging

I've been putting off and putting off writing a post. Mostly because I've been very busy and by the time I get enough blogging time....I've fallen asleep. Yep, I'm worn out.

So, I'll try to catch up with a few things tonight. Can't sleep as it's Independence Day celebrations. No private fireworks are legal in Massachusetts. This must explain the multitude of explosions shaking the house. Nothing quite like the smell of explosives on a cool summer night. Can't arrest half the town, I suppose.

Well, I guess I'll start with today and work backwards. I took a drive to Lanesville this afternoon as there was a rumor about an unusual topper for their annual bonfire. You might notice a grand piano sitting up there. It used to belong to a customer of mine. After I condemned it and he bought a replacement, he needed to find a convenient way to dispose of the original. This evening, Mom and I went downtown for the Rockport Fireman's Parade. Amanda doesn't like parades so she stayed home. I don't know, but the parade seemed to lack something this year. We had chowder at Ellen's after the parade and then came home, skipping Rockport's bonfire. Like I said, I'm tired.

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Awhile back we took three days to have a mini-vacation up in North Conway. We didn't know that it was also 'biker' week! I've never seen THAT MANY motorcycles in one locale. All in all a very polite group. I didn't have my camera with me when we saw approximately fifty Harleys parked in a neat, shiny row in front of a children's store named "The Toy Shop". It just begged for a photo! The big touristy thing we wanted to do is take the Conway Scenic Railroad up through Crawford Notch. We've never done it and it looked like a super ride. We've seen the route from the roadway, trestles hanging on to the edge of mountains. Should have been a thriller - we were four days too early. We were there for Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The 'Notch Train' began running for the season on the following Tuesday. Drat. We had to be satisfied with a rather mundane valley train to Bartlett and back. Took a few nifty pictures, though, including this one of an abandoned passenger car. Some of the people that work for the scenic railway live in a Caboose Park near the station. Some of the old cabooses have been sidetracked and converted to seasonal 'homes'. A lady that was tending the gardens around the station gave us a tour of her caboose. One evening Amanda and I decided to walk to the Saco River along a well-tended path from our motel. We got this far before Amanda chickened out. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

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I must mention the latest Recent Read. "War Journal" by Richard Engel is a must read! Middle East politics and an inside view of the war in Iraq from NBC's Middle East News Correspondent. Richard Engel has live in the Middle East for 12 years, the past 5 in Iraq, is fluent in Arabic and writes a striking commentary on the political, religious, and military dilemmas of the region. Until reading this book, I never truly understood.

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Tomorrow is the second crafts fair and I'll find out if there is any interest in the painted on ivory necklaces that I'll be adding to my inventory. Per the norm, advertising for the fair is lacking.
Sunday and Monday will be working at Tuck's. Next week I have several tuning jobs and, of course, key work to finish up. Eight sets came in this week! Mom wants to start looking for a new car and that requires my presence, and the lawn needs mowing again.

Did I mention that I'm tired?

Birthday Blast

Well, here it is, the long awaited post, and I'm having to write it quickly in the midst of other happenings.

So, twas the night before my birthday when the phone rang. It was the local doctor and head of the Thacher Island gang. I got my invitation to accompany the reed organ on it's trip out to the island. YIPPEEEEEEEE! This was going to be a fun birthday.

I arrived, as instructed, at the end of T-Wharf, around 9:30 in the morning, camera in hand and documented the loading of the Smith-American organ in to the Thacher Island boat. It takes about a half hour to power out to the island. Once there the organ would be unloaded and put in place in the parlor of the Principal Keeper's house. Some of the gang would spend until 3 in the afternoon working on the island while a few of us 'newbies' went exploring. There was a lot to see as long as the nasty seagulls allowed us passage. It was hatching season and the 'black-back' gulls were particularly aggressive. Our instructions were to carry a big stick to swing at them if they tried to attack us! And they did try. There are many trails that are kept maintained by the group of volunteers and much of the day to day maintenance is provided by the 'guest' keepers who sign up for living on the island for 3-4 week stints. Even when 'inland' on the island the gulls are still very present. The north lighthouse tower is open to visitors. We fought our way through the gulls and reached the tower. The two other guests climbed to the top. I really would have liked to but being as it is an open circular stair my vertigo wouldn't let me. I had to satisfy myself with taking photos from the lower windows and in the entry. We ate our picnic lunches outside the keeper's and guest houses and then set off for more exploring and pictures. At 3 p.m. we met back at the boathouse to set off back to Rockport.
This week I'll be going through the 50 or so photographs that I took of moving the reed organ to the island and I'll submit a couple with explanatory captions to the GDTimes. If you want to read and see more about Thacher Island, visit the web site linked in the sidebar of this blog.

Previews

This post is being written on my verrrry slow laptop as my 'good' computer is being updated. So nothing fancy with this post. First off...an enormous HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! to dickiebo, my blog twin. I hope you have a fantastic day. My B'day should be quite exciting but I'm going to make you wait for the details and the pictures of the unexpected adventure that I will be having on my birthday. Then, on Thursday the gang should be heading to the White Mountains for a mini-vacation. I'll be back to work on Sunday and Monday. Sometime on Monday I'm hoping my big computer will be ready to come home and it's then that I'll post about my adventures.

This old laptop barely cranks along and is riddled with little problems and quirks. I never know if it will actually start up. It never does it with grace, always demanding some sort of tweaking before Windows will run. And of course I'm quite inept at computer tweaking. I'm hoping it will hang in there for email retrieval until I'm set once again with the main machine.

90° and Counting

I am jumping for joy. Summer has made another appearance in the form of a little heat wave. Those of us along the coast have stayed a tad cooler than the folks inland or those getting extra heat from the cement and asphalt of the cities of the northeast.

We seized the opportunity of good weather on Saturday to have a yard sale. The forecast was for mid-eighties and no rain. Somewhat too hot for a yard sale but at least clear skies. I had piles of heavy boxes to carry up from the cellar so I started the night before. I set up the folding picnic table at the edge of the drive and placed all the boxes of tools and hardware underneath. The lot was covered with a tarp and weighted down with granite for the night. In the morning the books, household items and furniture would be carried out.

I set my alarm for 5 a.m. We had advertised in the GDT that we would be 'open' at 9. When we checked the ad we discovered that there was another sale listed on our street. They were starting at 8 a.m. So.....we decided we'd have to begin earlier than we wanted. The alarm woke me. It seemed to be darker outside than it should have been. It was foggy. I dragged on some old clothes and headed downstairs to make coffee. As I was filling the coffeemaker I glanced up at the kitchen clock.

4:16 a.m.

Huh?????

I walked to the parlor to check the mantel clock.

Yep, 4:16.

Back upstairs to the bedroom. That clock read 5:17. How did the time get changed?

I reset the clock and then set the alarm once again. Back to bed, fully clothed, for a half hour nap.

The first 'customer' arrived at 6:30 and I sent them away. We still had more than half the stuff to unpack! Shortly after 7, we had everything in place and more people began arriving. It was about that time that the sky let loose with a downpouring of rain. Heavy rain. We scrambled to get all our stuff covered with blue plastic tarps. It rain for about fifteen minutes and people stood with arms stretched upwards, supporting the tarps high above their heads. They continued to look and buy. We got soaked. As the rain ended and blue skies finally appeared, we 'untarped' our goods. Now it was time for the mosquitoes. This really annoyed me and I finally managed to find a spot in the sun without the pesky bugs.

People bought some strange things. Yes, I realize that this means that we had strange things for sale. One man bought three large boxes of scraps of wire, mostly single strand insulated stuff. Another man bought four big wooden boxes of very large (and very dull) drill bits and bores. He said that he makes sculptures from them. I thought it might be interesting if he added some dull, burned, circular saw blades to his work. He didn't think so and passed up that box. Thankfully, we sold some of the bigger items like two beds and two rugs, and a very old iron 'witches brew' pot. Most of the hand tools were sold. Some of the tools that didn't sell have now found new homes. A table saw is going to friends, a hand held boat searchlight (12 volt) and the 'Big Daddy' riveter are going to a local guy that has an ocean salvage, mooring gear, and underwater video business. We were worn out by the end of the day but I did take the time to shoot some pictures of my irises! I have three enormous clumps of them. Right now there are somewhere around thirty blossoms and twice that many buds.

No Doubt About It

The post below was written to the Pianotech List by a piano technician that I admire. It was written in response to a question from another tech about how to respond to his ability being questioned by a customer ( a call-back complaint after over 6 months time). The very first time I met David Andersen, I was impressed with his spirit, honesty, and desire to embrace the world whole-heartedly. And although David may disagree with this, I find him to be a very humble man. With his permission I have reprinted his post here.

"I'll tell ya what's up: doubt kills strength, confidence, power, and pleasure; habitual doubt is a toxic, dangerous mental program or habit. When you are insecure
---people can feel it
---it dulls your ability to be clear and focused
---it kills the pleasure of the task in the moment
---it focuses your attention on the self-generated internal dialogue rather than the interesting and challenging task at hand
---it allows you to make stupid decisions, like giving away time and effort for free when you need to be supporting yourself and your family, and consistently undervaluing your worth, the value you bring in people's lives.
Doubt kills the warrior spirit inside of you. It infects everything in your life.
1. Do you see yourself as an artisan, a professional, a craftsperson?
2. Do you generally do the best job you can do?
If yes, then STOP with the doubt and insecurity. You're doing a better job on this planet than a vast majority of humans that live here or have lived here. If your clients don't respect you, fire them. Or suffer. Your choice.
It's that clear and stark. It really is."
David Andersen

The Saga of Junior

or....A Rat's Tale

Junior is big and ugly. He first appeared in my mother's garden last weekend. Well, that's when she first noticed him, at least. Junior is an illegal alien. He is a Norway rat. Yep.

So, mom got the poison down into the burrow that we thought Junior had made and we waited. Early the next evening, we watched from the livingroom window. And he appeared. Drat. At the same time that my mom had poisoned the hole, I had nailed some wire mesh along the edge of the deck, along where Junior had been entering the garden. I had weighted the mesh down along the bottom with some large pieces of granite. Not to be hindered, Junior had burrowed underneath. On to plan B.

We decided that we needed to actually SEE Junior eat the poison. Once we could see him eat it, we knew it would be just a matter of time before "bye-bye, Junior". We also knew that we didn't want to just leave the poison briquette out where our other cute rodents would get to it.

A plan took shape. We went fishing for Junior. Mom tied the briquette to the end of a looooonnnnnggggg string. The string had a loop at the non-poison end that could be draped over the handrail post of the deck. That way Junior could munch a bit, leave, and my mom could haul the left over in for the night. Just before dusk, she set the bait. We waited.

Junior appeared. He completely ignored the bait! He wandered the garden, sticking his little nose in the soil looking for any last remaining bits of bird seed. Around and around he went before he finally came upon the bait and sniffed it. He turned around and moved on to more seed searching. We couldn't believe our eyes. Why wasn't he interested? We began to get very bored with Junior's behavior and decided to take turns at 'watch'. It was mom's watch when the action started. Amanda and I had left for tv viewing when we heard my mom yell that Junior had grabbed the string and hauled the briquette bait to the opening he'd dug to the garden.

Big problem...the bait was too large to fit through the hole and he abandoned it. Junior made his exit under the stairs to the deck. Sigh. This was getting very annoying. This being outwitted by a rat! Amanda took her turn at watch.

I was getting too tired to care. My mom and Amanda seemed quite excited and decided to keep a running dialog about all rat actions. I could hear the details while I watched the television.

It was nearing dark when Junior made his next move. He made a furtive dash from under the deck and grabbed the poison briquette. Then he made a quick U-turn and a dash back to under-deck safety. The string was now attached to the post and then draped across the stairs, disappearing in the void beneath the bottom step. Now what? Then Amanda called to my mom to see if she could see what was happening from her vantage point at the kitchen window. The string was taut, then slack, then taut again. There was a 'tug-a-war' going on under the deck between Junior and the post!

Now, you have to understand that this all took about two hours and it was becoming quite dark outside. My mom tried to see what had happened with the string but she could tell if it was still taut. She didn't know what to do. Should she venture out to Junior's territory and try to haul in the line? I recommended that she wait until morning. If Junior had succeeded in removing the bait from the line there was nothing that could be done. If he'd eaten it all - great!

We all relaxed for the remaining bit of evening and then said our quiet "good-nights" to Junior and headed for a good night's sleep, hoping that Junior's last supper had been successful. When morning came around, I took my cup of coffee to Mom's. She asked if she should check the line. I told her I'd keep an eye out for danger! She hauled in an empty line. Junior had gnawed it through and taken the bait. While we were pleased that success was at hand, we did feel a bit sad at having to kill Junior.

Day turned to dusk and we started randomly checking out the window to see if Junior was in the garden. Hour after hour and he never appeared. Things were looking up even as we felt sort of bad. I told my mom that she should wait a few days before putting the bird feeder back out.

Just to be sure.

Just to be sure, the next morning my mom placed a small stone near Junior's hole to the garden. It would be easy for him to move it out of his way and would be an indicator to us that he was still around. That was this morning. At dusk I walked to the window to check the garden. The stone was still in place and there was no sign of Junior. Just before dark my mom checked.

"Oh no! I saw something move over by the stones, " yelled my mom.
I went to the window to look. Sure enough, there was Junior.

On to Plan C.

Catching Up

I decided that I'd better get to writing a post before dickiebo disowned me...or worse. There are just times that I haven't felt very inspired to write anything. It's not that I haven't anything to say or to write about, it's that I can't seem to motivate myself to get started on it. Overdoing other things, I guess.

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A week ago was the first Old Firehouse Craft Fair for this year. At 8:30 am, I hauled myself and my gear downtown. Actually, my mom did the hauling of my gear and me. She was there to give me a hand setting up. Then she left for most of the day, returning only to give me a break around lunch time and helping me pack up at the end. The fair lasted from 10 am until 4 pm. Being as it was very poorly advertised (read 'next to nil'), attendance was slimmer than I had hoped. As you know, Mary and Beth came down and they made my first sales of the day! Later in the afternoon I sold some more packages of notecards and a couple more easel minis. So, not as profitable as I had hoped and I will be modifying my items for sale. The next fair will be on July 5 and I'll be there. I'm adding two or three new products to my inventory. One of which is still in 'development' but I'll whisper the idea to you as long as you promise to spread the word! Added to the product line will be wearable oil paintings. I am in the process of creating necklaces featuring original oil paintings on ivory (authentic elephant ivory reclaimed from old piano keys). There may be another new product or two, but all will still focus on oil paintings of regional scenes.

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Other stuff...My participation in 'Pay It Forward' is nearly done. One person that I nominated did not respond to my address request but it is understandable why. The 'gift' is still here, waiting, just in case.

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Key work is still coming in on a somewhat regular basis. Friday I shipped out two finished sets.
One went to God, the other to Jesus. They both had addresses with a view.

Truly.

My mom said that I'd better hope they liked my work!

So as to be able to remember to notify them when their keys would arrive, I wrote the information on the back of a business card from the shipping company. It read:

God Weds
Jesus Mon

The company name on the flip side is ESP.

Left the shipper's hoping I didn't lose the card someplace along the sidewalk. Might scare the person who would find it!

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Oh rats! Yes, indeed. And I've named him Junior. Mom called to me a few evenings ago to look out her back window. Lo and behold, there was an enormous rat darting in and out from under the fence in to my mom's garden. He was eating the birdseed that had fallen to the ground from the feeder. We don't like this one bit, folks. We like chipmunks. We like squirrels. But mice and fat rats....NO!

Sooooooooo, today we headed for the hardware store to see what there was to see in the 'rid yourself of rodents' department. There's not much. First item was the monstrous spring-loaded trap. Not an option. Might catch Chippy or Son of Squirt instead. Then there were the sticky traps and we ruled them out for the same reason. We could have purchased a humane trap, but then what does one do with a live rat? Can't really release it many places for it to thrive. We thought and thought and then very reluctantly opted for poison. Now, no lectures about what these poisons do. I know what they do. I don't like what they do. But THIS IS A RAT. We had located Junior's home nestled down and between the roots of an old tree stump. Today, while Junior slept, we inserted a poison briquette in his home. We covered it and the opening well with plastic weighted down with granite. We wanted to make sure that no cats (or squirrels or chipmunks) could get to the poison. Hopefully, tonight will be Junior's last supper.

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And finally...upon the suggestion of a few colleagues, I've written a story for publication. Watch for updates.

Crafty

Today is THE day. I'll be heading to the craft fair in town in just a few minutes.Think $$$$$$$

PIF

Huh? Yes, it is continuing. Dickiebo was treated to a surprise gift and the nice thought is to 're-pay' by sending a gift on to three other bloggers. Well, my dear blog twin chose me as one of the recipients and now I'm announcing my choices. So, although I may guess at actual street addresses based on the limited information these people have provided, in the past, on their blogs, I really could use updated information.

So Annette, Linda, and Rob...you have each been chosen to receive a gift. It is going to take me a couple days to actually 'collect' the gifts that I'll send, but they will truly represent Rockport. If you wish to increase the odds that I have your correct snail mail address by 100%, please email the information to me at a440deb@yahoo.com. You will receive your gift via snail mail shortly after I get your address.

Enjoy and 'Pay It Forward' if you so desire.

Diamonds in the Rough

Even the booking of today's tuning was a little different. The phone call came a couple weeks ago from a pleasant sounding woman who said she was making the call for her backdoor neighbor. Mr. J needed his piano tuned. She was calling to check on the price and to schedule a convenient date. I asked her how long it had been since Mr. J's piano had been serviced. She paused and then said she would put him on the phone. Odd, I thought she was making the call because he was at work or something and unable to personally speak with me. Mr. J gave me the information needed. He owns a Steinway grand. It had been tuned about a year ago, but since then one bass string had broken. I told him my tuning fee and he scheduled the tuning for today.

This morning I slept in a bit and once I did get going with breakfast and shower was dreading the tuning job. Having a string break on it's own is not a good sign, nor was I relishing dealing with ordering a replacement and the subsequent repeat visits to install and tune it. I'm in a 'give me simple' mood. Nevertheless, with tuning gear in hand, I headed out for the 10:30 appointment.

Mr. J's place was about a fifteen minute drive and easy to find. But what a place. As I approached and parked in the gravel drive, it was difficult to convince myself to stay. His house looked like a small, old barn. Added on and patched however the mood swayed carpentry. It was two stories tall. With a deep breath I gathered my tool kit and headed for the aged front door. Rough sawn and slightly beaten, it did boast one small window, a kitty door, and an enormous door knocker. As I rapped with the knocker, I stole a cautious glance through the window. It didn't look good. My quick view didn't show ordinary living quarters. To the right, and in a little, was a large utilitarian sink. To the left, haphazard storage. I stepped back from the pane as I heard footsteps approaching from inside.

Mr. J seemed to be in his late sixties or early seventies. I found it very hard to tell exactly. He was disheveled but clean and somewhat reserved. I extended my hand as I introduced myself and my purpose for being there. He commented that he had forgotten my name but did remember our appointment. Since all I could see was the old sink and lots of piles of 'barn-ish' storage, I asked where he was hiding the piano. Mr. J said it was upstairs. At that point I noticed the worn staircase to my right that had been hidden from outside view and hauled myself and tools upward. Mr. J followed. Halfway up I saw a kitty bowl filled with water on a small landing.

Upon arriving on the second floor I was greeted by an expansive view of Ipswich Bay hampered only by the white streaks of thermal glass panes gone bad. I made a quick assessment of my surroundings. The second floor was one large room. I was standing in the 'living room' section. I looked further and saw the old Steinway at the far end. As I approached the piano, still looking around, I spotted Mr. J's bed on the left. A double sized mattress on the floor. Mr. J's house seemed as disheveled as Mr. J.! The lid to the piano was open so I set my tool case down by the bench and had a look inside the Steinway. It wasn't a pretty view. What should have been bright and shiny was layered in gobs of rust. Everything steel was host to the orange-y brown parasite, including moderately sized patches of the cast iron plate.

I was thrilled with this discovery. Nothing better than piles of rust to justify my exit. I pointed out the problems inherent with trying to tune a piano with such decay to Mr. J. He was unfazed. I told him that ethically and professionally, I felt it best that a tuning not be attempted. I told him that there would be no service charge. Still he wanted me to try. I knew I had dreaded this appointment for some reason! Not many sounds worse to a piano tuner than strings breaking or the plate cracking. I got everything ready to start and then closed the lid. Better for breaking tensioned steel to hit the interior of the piano than me. Luckily, things weren't too far off, tuning-wise, and I gingerly began making some fine adjustments where needed. And only where needed.

About fifteen nerve-racking minutes into the tuning, I heard Mr. J holler, "MoMo get over here!" I turned to see Mr. J grabbing on to a cat's tail trying to 'haul'er in'. A split second later there was even more commotion. MoMo let go of a field mouse and it scurried across the floor and under a couch. Then the fun began! MoMo was frantic. She couldn't find her new playmate. Mr. J was frantic because he couldn't either! They both searched and searched and scolded each other. Finally MoMo headed out to find another friend while Mr. J continued his search. After ten minutes, or so, even he gave up. I told him that between a rusty piano and a loose mouse in the house, he was fortunate that I was still there! He said he usually just catches the mice in his hand and carries them outside to free them.

Wonderful. But where was that mouse?

Remarkably, after temporarily forgetting about the newest, tiniest house guest, and after an hour of tentative tuning waiting for the snap. The snap never happened. The piano was tuned with not one string breaking. I advised Mr. J that paying to replace the one broken string was probably not an economically sound choice. It's absence was not perceptible being one of a pair. It's partner was still there for that note. I sat down at the key board and played a short passage of ragtime. Afterwards, Mr. J sat down and performed a stunning piece of 30's jazz. He was totally amazing.

I wonder what was.

Where In the World?

and other goings-on.

I took a few days off. Sort of.

This week being one of Amanda's vacation weeks gave us the opportunity to make the trip to 'the other' Cape, Cape Cod. It was an on again, off again kind of thing. The plans had been made long in advance - weather pending. I HATE driving in poor weather conditions. Particularly on the highway. By the end of last week they predicted that Sunday, Mother's Day, would be the one real diamond amongst coal. Monday and Tuesday were looking to be a nor'easter. We called and canceled our overnight stay at my cousin's house since the forecast looked so poor for a return drive on Monday. Canceled - weather pending. By Saturday the non-omniscient weather predictors had changed the outlook. No rain until late in the day on Monday. Back to the original plan! So we headed south to my cousin's and then she drove us all out to the cemetery to my dad's and aunt's graves. The day was beautifully sunny. A tad windy and the wind was cool. On the way back over the Bourne bridge, I tried to shoot some pics out the van window.
Looking north through the railing at the Cape Cod Canal.Looking south at a barge being towed through.And the bridge from a distance.
The drive back home on Monday was fine. Cloudy and very gusty winds, but no rain. By today the sun was out once more. Seems the big storm skirted south of us.

Today was special in two very different ways.
The first was a surprise in the mail.
About one month ago I had received a set of keys in the mail. The technician said he would be sending the prepayment check in a couple days. Nothing arrived and after a week or so I left him a message inquiring about payment. He left a message for me that he would forward his customer's check as soon as he received it, he had called to remind her. Well, I waited a couple more weeks and still, nothing. I left him another message last week and he never returned the call. I was beginning to wonder what to do about it, when today........the check arrived! No wonder it took so long to get to me..................................
He'd sent it to my street address, but he'd sent it to MS instead of MA. Mississippi rather than Massachusetts! It took being hand sorted to discover the mismatched state and zip code and then some detective work to decide which was correct. Thankfully there is no Rockport in MS. I got to work on his keys this morning while waiting for our afternoon treat.

This afternoon we got to meet the new owners of the Minoan! We had emailed back and forth a bit, and then as you know, I had posted some photos for them here on the blog. P and G arrived at the boat last Thursday evening (from England) and have been working hard to get her back in shape. They took today off to take the train to Rockport and visit. We had an enjoyable afternoon with them. First lunch at Ellen's (of course), then some postcard buying(by G) and a drive down Bearskin Neck and around town. We drove by Front Beach so they could see where the Minoan had been driven ashore in a northeaster in the fall of 1977. Then we all came back to the house for the photo album 'show and tell'. We hope they enjoyed their visit with us and that they will come back soon. P said he hoped to be able to come back before their return to England so they could explore the area some more. We think that would be great! We took them back to the train in the early evening and they headed back to the boat with all our best wishes for safe and fun sailing.

Wednesday is another partial day off. Some key work in the morning and then we'll be heading for an afternoon at the Moseley Estates (Maudsley State Park) and dinner at Skip's.

Thursday is a very full day of piano repairs and tuning, Friday and Sunday at Tuck's. I haven't a clue what may happen on Saturday but the weather sounds lousy!

Wondering?

Where's deb?Don't worry, I've just gone adventuring for a couple days. I'll be back blogging, maybe Monday night, to let you know what I've been up to.

Just Plain Tired

A few days back I hinted that there would be biggish news. Well, tonight I'm ready to let all of you hear it. I didn't want to say anything earlier in case I severely blew it and messed up. So...since that didn't happen, leaving me only feeling a bit old and inept, I guess I can tell.

While I still maintain my primary occupation as a piano technician and have a secondary occupation/avocation with the miniature oil paintings (that I hope will pay), I now have a third, albeit very part time, job. I'm working retail sales at Tuck's, here in Rockport. Just one or two days per week. Today was my first training day of four. I should call it re-training as I worked there nearly thirty years ago, even managing one of their stores. A lot has changed in thirty years! They even have electric cash registers now (yes, really and truly, we had the old-fashioned manual type when I was there years ago). Anyway, after six hours of training my brain is scrambled.

So why did this happen? The big R word that our government doesn't acknowledge. I believe the closest Bush has come is to say that our economy is in a slight temporary slowdown.

HAH.

If you are finding it hard to pay your mortgage, put food on the table and gas in your car, are you very worried about getting your piano tuned or fixed? I think not. Add to that MY soaring heating bills, gasoline expenses, and property taxes (and let's not forget the quarterly tax payments that Uncle Sam expects) and I was scraping the bottom of my bank account. What's a poor piano tech to do but look for a way to keep piano tech-ing while supplementing that income. I finally got up the nerve to venture back in to the retail world fueled by tourism. The owner of Tuck's called early last week to offer the job and schedule my first day.

Then (and I mean mere minutes afterwards) my phone started ringing. Five calls for tunings and service. One I had to turn down as I couldn't fit it in at the time the client needed it. That afternoon a tech came by to drop off a set of keys. Two more sets arrived the same day. One in the mail and another by FedEx.

I'm swamped. I'm working 14 hour days to keep up. Yes, I am trying to pace it by taking a tad of time off to eat. I picked Amanda up from work at 5 and we had dinner at Ellen's Harborside tonight (I was too tired to think of cooking). Tomorrow morning I'll get up extra early to finish some key work and then we go to Skip's for lunch. We had intended to go on Friday, but now I'm scheduled for Tuck's that day.

I hope this evens out a little! Off to bed.......................