luv and such

So, I am a pretty practical guy.  It drives my fashion (I always wear sensible shoes), my politics and even my romantical side.  I understand that lots of things go into driving our economy so I am proud to do my part and participate in the Valentine’s day festivities…but my practical side kicks in too.

Emily and I have been buying small things the past month or so and calling them early Valentine’s day presents (there were some great after-Christmas sales, afterall).  Still, being ever-so-slightly brighter than a toaster over (which I also got in an after-Christmas sale), I knew that I had better have something in hand for the Mrs. come Valentine’s morning.  The boy and I went to the local big-box purveyor of Chinese goods and I quickly spotted my prize.  You see, Emily has been complaining about having only one small non-stick pan in which to cook my eggs and sausage in the morning.

China-Mart had a super deal on 2 Farberware non-stick pans and their bases were even coated in red enamel…and folks think I don’t speak the language of love!  I proudly placed my take on the cashier’s stand and she looked at me funny.  I sort of figured she was a bit jealous of the catch my wife had found, but I usually can’t read women very well.  Anyhow, we headed home and I hid her present so she would be surprised!

Just like a kid on Christmas morning, I woke early and fetched my gift and woke Emily and presented her with her apron and the new red pans.  At that point, things get a little fuzzy.  I guess she must have slipped getting out of bed, or maybe she had a nerve twitch, but somehow, the pan handle must have fallen into her hand and as she swung her arm to catch her balance, the pans whacked me in the head.  I don’t remember much else except waking up in a hospital bed with IVs stuck in my arms.

So, while my Valentine’s day was somewhat unusual, I am sure Emily liked her new pans and I saved us some cold hard cash by pocketing the pudding cups and packs of crackers that came with my hospital meals…all in all, I’d say it was a pretty good Valentine’s day!

Proud of the fight

Isaac is taking tae kwon do lessons and is doing really well. We take him 3 nights per week and he has made a bunch of great progress. We had mainly hoped that the exercise and discipline would be a big benefit for him. I had a lot of mixed feelings in his taking lessons though. I am certainly not a pacificist, but encouraging your kid to fight seems like a whole different level of crazy. I know tae kwon do and most martial arts are intended to be used for defense, but I have to tell you, if you have ever seen tae kwon do practitioners in action, you’ll quickly see that it is not a passive defensive art. If you tangle with someone who is well versed in tae kwon do, and if you don’t know when to stop, you may not wake up from a fight.

Ok, that sounds dramatic but its methods are comprised of violent and aggressive actions that could easily be misused. Tae kwon do uses a tremendous amount of kicking and specialized punches meant to deliver ultimate force so misuse could easily result in serious injury. So, a big part of class is discipline and respect and knowing when to use the art. Another part of class, however, is practical. Each night, the students spar. The older people (i.e. not 6 year olds) and the black belts really go at it and hit hard. Isaac is not a black belt or an older kid but he is getting bigger and his age is starting to “play” hard. Imagine my nerves when Isaac volunteered to fight last night.

I was a bundle of nerves hoping he didn’t get hurt and that he didn’t hurt someone else. Isaac and the other student walked to the ring, bowed all around and took their fighting stances. The instructor called, “fight” and the boy went to town. He fought and fought well. He is nimble and fast and was -now get this – a lot of fun to watch in a fight. Isn’t it weird how I went from fear to pride instantly? Anyhow, he delivered a bunch of punches and kicks and took a lot too.

The best part of the fight was that we made eye contact as he walked out of the ring after the fight. We both smiled and nodded our heads in understanding. He’ll be just fine.

Gather round the old “fire”

I have gone on and on about our old house.  There are a hundred (or more) tings wrong with this place and we are working, slowly but surely, through most of th big ticket items.  The house has a great fireplace with a huge chimney that is, unfortunately, not in great shape.  I don’t think it is going to fall down anytime super soon, but we’ve been told by chimney-folk that burning a fire would hasten its failure, what with the expansion and shrinkage and all from the temperature changes.

Speaking of shrinkage, I can’t say the word without thinking of this:

Anyhow, until we get around to fixing the chimney, we won’t be burning any fires. But gee whiz, on days such as these, sitting around a warm fire surely sounds nice. Our house is a little short on insulation so heat is pretty precious around here. In lieu, of a real fire though, we have devised a new scheme to allow us to enjoy our own little “fire”.

When we get a hunger for hotdogs, we fire up the portable utility heater.  It is mostly safe and makes for a mean wienie roast.  Marshmallows work pretty well too though they smell worse when they fall onto the heating coils.  The best part about it is that there is no smoke to contend with as we gather round…

When Emily feels like a cup of hot cocoa, we don’t have to fool with heating a pot on top of the wood stove.  Oh no, we simply break out the hair dryer and let it blow!  She can have lukewarm cocoa in a mere 18 minutes!

Lovin’ the hog

I love Groundhog Day. It’s the most important of all the holidays for me. Family times and grand meals are nice and all, but I really just love that noble hog of the Earth, Punxsutawney Phil. I grew up in Yankee-land and was used to snow (take note…I was used to it). It seems like we had snow from Halloween until Memorial day. When I was a kid, I sort of liked it…I guess. We played outside in the snow until we couldn’t feel our fingers and toes…and for some reason, we called that fun.

Now that I am an adult, I have a little sense…not too much, but a little. Sensible people know that snow is not a good thing. Polar bears have awesome fur coats for living in snow. I, on the other hand, have a naked head…definitely not built for snow.

Every year I sort of dread the coming of winter. In fact, like the snow schedule of my childhood, I start to dread winter for most of the month of October until…Groundhog Day. I sort of like Phil, partly because I am a former Pennsylvanian, and a dadgum Yankee (reformed), but I especially like Phil and Groundhog Day because I feel like the “ugh” of winter has a chance of lifting. You see, I fully believe that the proceedings in Punxsutawney are binding and true. Phil’s prediction is real and accurate and I get hopeful that he may, in fact, lift the gloom of winter…so Phil, from Southern WVA, we’re counting on you!

Update: Phil…why do you hate me so?

On dental floss

I am Joe Q. Public.  I put my pants on one leg at a time.  I like hamburgers on the grill.  I cry when I watch Old Yeller.  And, like most people, I didn’t used to floss my teeth.  It’s a pain in the hind-end and it’s a bit gross.  I am stubborn though so when my new dental hygienist got on the old, “you have to floss or your head will rot and fall off” train, I decided to prove her wrong.

Clearly, this stuff was invented during the Inquisition

It’s not like I never flossed.  I flossed regularly for the week before I go to get my teeth cleaned and likewise the week afterwards.  With my Invisalign teeth aligners, I am supposed to brush and floss every time I hiccup anyhow, so I had additional motivation to floss like responsible teeth owners are supposed to do.

Dental floss technology...it amazes me!

I quickly found that the old-school floss was not gonna work long-term for me so I went in search of new flossing technology.  I found “the floss stick” as I like to call it.  It takes the guess-work out of flossing (did you know there is guess work in flossing?)  No more trying to figure the best way to get your big hairy hands in your mouth just right so you can get your back teeth.  No more accidentally cutting off all circulation to your index finger when you wrap it just a little bit too tight.  No, no, those days are over!  With my new floss stick, I can floss (and floss well) all the teeth in my head…faster than green grass through a goose!

The heads swap out so it isn't gross!

I haven’t yet been back to the hygienist, but I am sticking to my flossing challenge thanks to the flossing stick.  I am sort of torn…in one way I want to prove her wrong about flossing, but in another, I am pretty excited to have good teeth and to get accolades from a near-stranger as she dances around in my mouth.  Only time will tell, but I am sold on flossing now that’s it’s easy (and I don’t have to taste my hairy hands!)

We’re breaking up

Sometimes in life, you try and try to make something work but it just doesn’t.  Sometimes you find things that just aren’t worth pushing.  Sometimes you just have to end it.  We’ve gone to great lengths to fix things or mess with them to make it all work differently, but, at our wits end, we see no other course but to break up…the concrete of course.

I got some more stuff last night to try to fix the low spots.  One thing I got was a new level that would be large enough to span enough distance but no so large that I couldn’t put it crossways in the bathroom (so I got a 2 foot long level).  As I laid it all sorts of ways across the floor, I really started to see just how badly screwed up the concrete was.  No small patch was going to fix this issue.  The only solution in its current state would be to add another level of self-leveling concrete and hope it worked better.  Um…heck no.

Breaking up is hard to do...

Being a stubborn SOB (no offense Mom), I decided that there was no way this floor was going to beat me.  Luckily I have just the tool to remedy the situation.  Several months ago (years if you ask Emily), I started chipping concrete/plaster off of the walls of our office.  For that job, I bought a handful of new cold chisels.  They paid off once again.

The concrete mixer...isn't it cool?

I spent a good bit of time (and yes, more cussing) breaking up the screwed up concrete so I can go about this mess in an entirely different way.  The floor wasn’t too bad to start.  Once I get this concrete removed, I am going to manually level the few spots that aren’t even with regular portland cement or some other floor patch (not sure which yet) and move on.  Call this a $50 education for me I guess.  Education is always money well spent, right?

Well, I hope you can use my experience before you are faced with the same situation…breakups really really suck!

Neil has some thoughts on it too:

Let me level with you

I have been working on our house for…well, for as long as we’ve owned it. It’s a bit of a money-pit fixer-upper and I have enjoyed doing most of the work.  The one thing that makes it all interesting though, is that it is neither square nor level…and not even close.

We have three bathrooms (thank goodness!) and it seems like one is always torn up for one reason or another.  Anyhow, I have been working on the one in the lowest level and am ready to lay tile.  In preparation, I checked the existing floor for low spots, high spots, spotted newts, see spot run, and giant red spots.  Unfortunately, I had several of these.  One can lay tile on a goofed up floor, but the goofs either break tiles or look like someone who knows nothing about laying tile laid the tile.

Not wanting to look like an amateur, I knew I had to fix unevenness of the floor.  I have never used self-leveling concrete before (I AM and amateur, I just don’t want to LOOK like an amateur), but I knew it was the solution for all of my floor-spot-related woes.  The idea is that one pours a somewhat thin layer of special concrete and then watch in amazement as the concrete covers the floor and dries to a smooth, level surface.  Sounds easy, right?

The blue primer drying

Well, mostly it is.  Let me back up…first I had to paint a primer over the bare floor so that the floor would look more blue.  I am not certain that it really did anything else, but I gotta tell you, it did a great job of making my floor more blue…so, it was a huge success!  The blue primer finally dried (Emily watched as I napped…she wasn’t about to let me sleep a minute longer than necessary…she wants this project done!) and I stumbled downstairs to mix the concrete.

Self-leveling concrete...still wet and almost smooth

Back when we first got the house, we bought a huge stirrer that you use with your drill.  It’s built to mix in a 5 gallon bucket.  We tried omelets a few times but it never seemed to taste right out of the bucket so we use it only for mixing paint and concrete now.  Normally, concrete is mixed in a bathtub or a wheelbarrow or something like that with a hoe and child labor.  The drill-mixer is not usually used for concrete, but the directions called for it specifically (good thing I pre-bought that tool!)  So I mixed a 50-lb bag of the stuff following th directions and then I spread it over the floor.  I had to move it around with a large float I made from old wood scraps.  That seemed pretty reasonable.  I didn’t expect to pour a bunch of concrete out and have it magically float evenly over the entire floor.

Dried concrete...almost level

The next part bugs me a little though.  I smoothed the concrete over the floor and had it pretty smooth.  To me, “self-leveling” meant that the stuff would flow evenly across the surface and sort of absorb imperfections in the floor…the low spots and tiny imperfections and such.  At first, it did appear that it was going to behave.  As time went on, however, it became clear that it wasn’t going to work quite like that.

The tile laid out...just begging to be installed...

I cussed it thoroughly and the floor mostly leveled as it hardened (and it hardened quickly), but it is by no means, perfect.  So, in the next day or so, I am headed back to the home improvement store to get some more self-leveling concrete to patch the few screwed up spots.  Part of my problem may be that I got rapid set concrete (not on purpose) rather than extended set…I won’t make that mistake again.

So let me warn you very clearly…if you ever use self-leveling concrete, be sure you have it pretty smooth/level as soon as you can…I’d hate for you to have to cuss your floor like I did!

It’s weird

It’s weird…last year I had tons of stuff to talk about.  I had projects and ramblings and thoughts (yes, I even had thoughts…but that was last year).  This year, I feel busier than ever but I have nothing to show for it…or nothing interesting anyhow.  My days are consumed by that pesky work thing and my evenings are taken up with kids’ practices of various sorts and the remodeling of our house.

I dig remodeling the house…mainly because of all the money I save and because I can do it right, but it’s so uninteresting.  I suppose I could post pictures of the new board I just installed or pictures of the paint drying, but I think that might not be much fun.  Don’t get me wrong, I love to watch paint dry (or is it that I like the fumes?), but it’s hard to capture that delight on film.

Although things seem less interesting blogaliciously speaking, I think I am more pleased with the large scale tinkering rather than the small scale tinkering this year.  I sort of feel like an exhibitionist (no comments) sharing all sorts of stuff on here…and enjoying it.  But since I feel like I have less to say, I wonder if I have gotten more boring or if I just ran out of crap to brag about.  Anyone ever feel like that?  I mean, when I go to the Y to exercise, the old men there lead me to think that they are more into “openness” rather than being closed off (for the love of pete…close your towel…or even more importantly, wear one when you sit on the chairs in the locker room reading the newspaper for half an hour), so I don’t think I am all of a sudden getting shy…maybe just boring.

Well, enough of my rambling…do you folks like to watch paint dry…or have you seen yourself change as time goes by?

Beekeepers buzz all winter

You’ll never believe it, but some folks sort of look at us beekeepers and wonder if we lost every last ounce of sense that our Mommas slapped into our heads when we were younger…well, that’s how my Momma did it.  Anyhow, we also have a reputation as being a fairly dull bunch.  Wait, I know, it is hard to believe.  So, to prove any doubters wrong, I am here to describe a great winter project that some beekeepers work on to keep the cabin-fever-crazies from setting in…candle making!

Honeybees make beeswax.  That’s how they roll.  Every egg that the queen lays and every ounce of food (honey and pollen) that they gather is stored in beeswax.  They are industrious builders and sometimes become a little over-zealous in their projects.  You see, honeybees like they hives to be orderly.  One huge part of that is “bee space“.  Bees like to have 3/8″ space to crawl between frames and throughout the hive.  If they have left, they typically fill it with propolis, a super sticky product they create to patch holes (or spaces smaller that the required bee space).  If the hive has spaces larger than 3/8″, the bees will fill it with burr comb.  Burr comb is just “filler comb” that they use to tidy up spaces and make every part of their hive the proper bee space.  It works great for them and settles their nerves (which is good for beekeepers!), but it makes inspecting the inside of a hive difficult for a beekeeper.  You see, we use those nice frames to keep things straight inside the hive so we can remove the pieces.  Bees don’t see it that way at all and build their burr comb in every direction they feel inclined.

What does that have to do with candle-making you ask?  Beekeepers cannot allow too much burr comb to build up or the hive becomes very difficult to manage without greatly disturbing the bees (by the way, bees have stingers and aren’t afraid to use them!) which is never a good thing.  Each time I get into my hives (once a month…sometimes more often, sometimes less), I scrape the burr comb into a box I carry with me.  Some beekeepers just pitch that comb, but that seems like a huge waste.  I gather it and toss it in a solar wax melter and let the sun add its magical heat to melt the wax (the process, by the way, leaves the wax mostly free of impurities…the wax flows into a collector while the dirt, twigs, etc that I introduce by accident stay in the melting tray.  Similarly, I also keep every bit of wax I remove when I harvest honey (honey cells are capped with wax which must be removed for harvest).

So, finally, we get back to candle-making.  When I get a little stir crazy in the winter, I have a good stash of clean wax that is just begging to be made into candles.  We melt the wax in an old crockpot so the wax heats slowly and does not get too hot.  Wax, as you hopefully have never experienced, is very flammable and if heated too fast or hot, will give you problems.  In my opinion, the only safe way to melt wax is in a solar wax melter or an old crockpot.  So, we add chunks of wax we collected and melted all summer into the pot and wait for it to melt.

Once melted, the wax can be poured into all sorts of molds.  To be sure, there are tons of candle forms that one can spend an entire inheritance on.  I prefer the simple approach though.  We add a wick to a simple jelly-jar or a small decorative jar.  No wax is melted during the burning of the candle and I like how easy they are to store in jar-form.

By the way, pure beeswax is always some shade of yellow. Colored candles, by definition, are not pure beeswax.  Pure beeswax candles are sootless when they burn and are the smoothest burning candles.  Candles made from parafin (most candles) put off black soot and are simply not as pleasant to burn in my opinion.

There isn’t a lot to making candles in a simple form.  Beekeeping is pretty straight-forward, but candle-making is even simpler.  Many beekeepers in your area probably collect wax but don’t bother to make candles.  If you are interested, you may consider approaching them and buying some beeswax.  It’s great family fun and a simple, easy, wonderful gift you can give for any occasion!

Blossom Deli saved my life

We started indoor soccer at the YMCA this weekend and the kids’ games were spaced just perfectly to mess with the entire day.  Abigail played at noon so, by 1, we were pretty hungry.  We knew better than to eat before the game as the floor needed to stay puke-free.  Anyhow, by 1, we were all pretty hungry so we headed downtown to one of our favorite restaurants.  It’s a local downtown place and lately has been somewhat flaky about when it is open.  We usually hit it on evenings and weekends though it really caters to the weekday lunchtime crowd.  That’s right…you guessed it…they were closed.

Anyhow, we were pretty bummed and more urgently, pretty dang hungry.  We stood in the middle of the street with vacant zombie-like looks on our faces, wondering how we would survive…what we would do to get food…whether we could bear to go on.  Fortunately, my lovely wife, with cat-like reflexes and an eagle eye, spotted the Blossom Deli a few hundred feet away.  If only we could make it the 100 steps to their door-step, surely they would have something they could give us to avert disaster.

Somehow we made it to Blossom Deli alive.  It’s all a little fuzzy, but I sort of think ants must have picked us up and were carrying us to their nest when some heroic patrons rescued us and drug us inside…but I have no evidence of that.  Anyhow, we got inside and…you’ll never believe this….they sell food at the Blossom Deli!

We were seated right away (I think they noticed our pitiful blank faces and feared a zombie attack) and quickly set us up with liquid salvation from the fountain.  Yes, you heard me right…they have a real soda fountain at Blossom!  I wasn’t going to push my luck, but I bet they have a real live soda-jerk somewhere too.  Anyhow, the whole place seems right out of the 1950s.  Inside the place is art-deco floor to ceiling.  A lowered grill sits adjacent to the bar seating and simple tables (like your grandma used to have in her kitchen) were everywhere.  Ours even had a nice, easy rock to it.  I think the only thing missing was a poodle skirt or two.

So, the less creative members of my family ordered hotdogs (all beef as Isaac likes to remind me) while I ordered my usual (see, I am the creative one!).  Whenever I go to a restaurant and I see a Reuben on the menu, I order it.  I am not sure why but I MUST order it if I see it.  So I ordered my “usual” and a cherry Coke.  When the waitress (I bet she wants to be called that rather than a server…it’s 1950 afterall) delivered our drinks, I initially wondered how she would tell my cherry Coke from the others’ vanilla Cokes.  Silly me, it was easy…she just sipped from each straw and knew right away!  Not really.  No, she simply looked at the color.  My cherry Coke was definitely red…and I think that red was either the fantastic cherry flavoring or the color of awesome!

Isaac and I quickly drained our glasses (he declared his vanilla Coke to be the best he’d ever had and he’s had a bunch) and asked for another.  When it finally became clear that we weren’t weren’t about to be hauled off by a creepy guy in black carrying a scythe, I took a look around.  The mirrored walls make the inside look much larger than it really is.  It’s really quite comfortable but cozy inside.  The waitresses gave great attention to everyone and I could see as the cooks prepared my meal…fresh!  Blossom Deli offers a daily blue plate special which I will definitely have the next time we go there.

I am sure we will go to our other “favorite place” again when we see it open sometime…but we now have a new go-to local restaurant in Charleston, WV!  Blossom Deli, not only did you possibly save my life, you nourished my soul (well…at least my stomach!)