The year in review

So . . .   I guess it's been quite a year.
We put a few miles behind us and that wasn't even the highlight.

I may have pointed this out before.
December is the only month this year (2017) we have remained home [sleeping in our own bed] the entire month.
November was almost qualified, but we didn't return from Minnesota in time.

If you've followed this blog for any length of time you know just how remarkable the past 16 months have been.
Who'd've thunk it could all start with an innocent text.
All I wrote was, "Good morning" to and old friend.

I would change none of what's happened since.

Friday's cats

PHG contributes.

That used to be PHG's ottoman.

they play king of the hill

Also on the third day

We saw a narwhal.

It was arguably the most commented upon gift of the day.

On the 3rd day of . . .

The WaDaps* know me.

more tomorrow

*don't ask

I got nuthin’

Blogging from my phone is not appealing.

Says it all

Resurrecting old posts

I went back a few years [yeah, nine] to find this:

stole that from someplace

There's a new addition

We dropped some donation items off at the Discovery Shop this morning.
On a whim I said, "Let's go inside."

There he was on a shelf,  marked $5.00.
It turns out the stuff for Christmas is now 50% off.

winner!

Friday cat

via GIPHY

This is better

. . . and then

Following up on Monday's rant.

Someone must've read the post,
Now the maroons are out to get me.

I was driving to the post office this morning, following my usual route which snakes through the neighborhood and avoids the major traffic streets.
I purposely come to a stop at all of the stop signs so I can complain about others who don't and avoid being called a hypocrite.
At one point there was another car approaching from the opposite direction.
The driver noticed I was stopped.
So he didn't and made a left turn in front of me.
Had I not been paying attention . . .

Well, you can use your imagination.

hope his mother bit him

 when he got home

Interlude

sweet sounds

Situational awareness

It boggles the mind.
Literally  . . . not virtually  . . . every time I get out on the streets, even in the residential neighborhood that surrounds my home, I see driver who are absolutely oblivious to their surroundings.
They doing anything but paying attention to the immediate task at hand.
Or, if they are focusing on their driving, they are trying to outwit other drivers to get ahead.

I thought the drivers up north were bad, but they were fewer than here.
It seems red traffic signals and stop signs are only a suggestion.
I'd like a dollar for every time I've seen a right of way violation or seen someone ignore a stop sign.

All in the effort to be first.
Yeah, Adam was first.
What did it get him?

Friday cat(s)

On or off?

In the grand scheme of things whether or not I have a beard is unimportant.
I let the little facial hairs grow every November as a part of the Movember movement.
Officially, one is supposed to grow a mustache, but, you see, I already have one that I like and just don't feel like starting over.

Really, it's about calling attention to men's health and prostate cancer in particular.
I suppose what I'm into is more No Shave November.
It's really an excuse not to shave.
By the end of the month I kinda like it and keep it around for awhile.
GS really liked it, MB seems to like it, too, some others, not so much.
I have now reached the stage where I don't care either way.

Growing the face fur goes way back.
I may even have a picture somewhere of the first time I actually had a beard, sometime in the mid '80s, but that will have to be on another day.
I didn't grow another until about 12 years ago and I kept it out of spite until the opportunity arose to shave it for charity.

Ultimately the mustache was sacrificed, as well and I was relatively clean shaven for about four years.
That was when I started the November crop.
Below are from various years since I started the routine.
The last one is the current crop.

the things we do to create blog topics

W T F (see the sidebar)

So there I was*. . .    preparing to post the most important blog post of the current year.
I was getting photos ready, thinking about how I'd write it.

Then Macrohard [the name's been changed to protect whoever] jumps in with an update and eliminates everything.
I may remember what it was that was so important   . . . eventually.
However, I will not forget how rude the interruption was.

bunch o' jackwipes

*sjc

They're everywhere

. . . snowmen, that is!

gonna need more nutcrackers

Guest Post

The Back Story
If you read Saturday’s blog post, you know it featured Bethlehemian Rhapsody. Skip said there was a back story but that I told it better. So here it is.

Not quite a year ago, when we were talking about a wedding and what that would involve, I received a text from Skip. He said, “How about walking down the aisle to this”, and there was a link. I clicked on the link and it took me to an organ version of Bohemian Rhapsody. We were being married in my church, by my son, the pastor, with our other pastor playing the piano for the event. I was pretty sure Bohemian Rhapsody was not going to fly.

“Besides”, I said, “You know that people will still be thinking the words, even if there are no words. Are those the words you really want them thinking as we walk down the aisle?” He agreed that it probably wasn’t a good idea but thought it would have been fun.

Later on, closer to the wedding, the pastor who was going to play the piano, asked me about music. I told him that Skip liked jazz and the pastor proposed some Dave Brubeck. Hmmm. Not what I was thinking but Pastor E is an incredible musician so I was okay with letting him do whatever. Then I mentioned that Skip had suggested using Bohemian Rhapsody and I explained why I thought that was a bad idea. He sort of agreed.

Fast forward a month or so later, just a couple weeks before the wedding. Pastor E comes to my office (I work at the church) and asks me to make a list of my favorite hymns and praise songs so he can figure out what to play for the wedding. I gave him a list. He said he could work with it and I told him I trusted him and wasn’t worried about it. At the top of the list of hymns was “How Great Thou Art”. Besides being a beautiful hymn, it reminds me of my grandmother.

The day of the wedding, I couldn’t tell you what was played. I was across the breezeway in another room prior to the ceremony and I don’t recall hearing anything when my other two sons walked me down the aisle. I remember looking at Skip’s big smile as he stood waiting for me. That’s it.

The ceremony was wonderful as my son wove bits about Gary and Sharon in as we had requested - they will, after all, always be a part of us. There were tears and laughter from the guests. I wish it had been recorded because I would love to listen to it again. There was also my son’s warning to Skip, that if he broke my heart, my sons would break his kneecaps. 

When the ceremony was over, we headed out. Our focus was to get all the way into the fellowship hall so guests were not stuck outside in a line. I don’t think the exit music (aka recessional) had even started until we were almost out the door of the church. If it did, I didn’t hear it.

The reception was simple – cake, ice cream, coffee, sparkling cider, people - lots of people. It was supposed to be a small wedding but family alone was over 100 people. And working at the church, I can’t invite some and not others, so a general invitation went out in the bulletin. Then there are neighbors and close friends who are like family, and our Lions Club family. There were somewhere around 300 people, even with some not being able to get there because Hwy 5 was closed due to flooding.

No, I haven’t forgotten that this is supposed to be about Bohemian Rhapsody. Honest, I’m getting there.

After the cake reception at church, we had family back to the house for dinner. It wasn’t quite 100 people – maybe 65, or so. It gave Skip’s family and my family a chance to get to know each other a little.

As everyone sat around visiting, Bryan, Skip’s stepson, asked me what it was that the pastor was playing when we exited the church. He said it sounded like “How Great Thou Art” but then it sounded like “Bohemian Rhapsody”. I told him I had no idea but I would check. My curiosity was peaked.

Fast forward a couple weeks, post-honeymoon, and I had a chance to ask Pastor E what it was that he played as we left the church. Remember, I told you he was a phenomenal musician. Did you know that “How Great Thou Art” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” are written in the same key? Yup! Pastor E combined them! He played it for us. It was amazing! He has promised to make a recording of it someday and, when he does, I promise to share it.

So, that’s the back story. Hope you enjoyed it.

Who are these guys?

There's something about Christmas decorations.
Some folks have collections of things they put up every year.

Some collect snowmen.

Others have nutcrackers.

It's  great when they can be integrated.

Then there's all the other stuff, about 15 totes worth.

maybe more

Note: These are just the ones inside

Somebody asked about Christmas music

There's a back story, but MB tells it better.

like these lyrics better

Friday cat

source: dailytimewaster

fun times at the cathouse

House . . . no, HOME

It didn't look like that when I found it, with the assistance of a highly motivated realtor.
I told her what I could afford in monthly payments; what I had in available cash for a down payment; and that I had to be able to assume an existing loan.
She found two places, both with the same floor plan, in the same neighborhood.

This is the other one:

We couldn't get into it the day we went looking.
It turns out that was advantageous.
The lot at my home was wide enough at the front to eventually add a new, larger garage and convert the original garage to a family room.

That remodel was 24 years ago.
It means I lived in the remodeled place longer than anywhere else.
So you might understand why there were "mixed feelings" a week ago, Monday, when I signed the paperwork.
Nostalgia is a funny thing.
I let go of a lot when my signature went on the bottom line.
It really didn't need any of it.

I have all that I need and very little of it is stuff.
In fact I have more Stuff* than I want.

This is my home today.

Everything I want is here.

there's even a

 darn palm tree

 next door

House III . . . still more

We were last in East Palo Alto, but not for long because I got married and moved to Sunnyvale.

. . .  for a year.

Then we moved to Redding.
That was during the oil shortage of 1973, when gas lines went for miles in some places and we complained about double digit fuel prices [seriously!].

Because we were building and opening a new business and qualifying for a home loan would be difficult at best, our first choice was to find an apartment.
There were none to be had.
However, the realtor who'd helped us locate found a motivated buyer with an assumable loan and we were set with a place to live. 
It kinda looked like this, only the front door was bright orange, it was a blue green with white trim, and the trash bins fit inside the gate to the left.
Oh, and that fruitless mulberry was a lot smaller and more natural.

It was a good thing, too.
We were going to be parents.
Lots of things were happening fast.
The business opened and was a booming success right from the get-go.
My son was born at the beginning of September.

We did a little remodeling, removing a wall between the family room and living room.
Then we poured a some concrete to enlarge the patio in back [that also shrunk the back lawn].
I built a swing set from a set of plans from Stanley.
When I was finished I still had all of my fingers and no scars.
I needed assistance from two others to get it upright.
It was one heavy sucker, kinda like this.

We bought a boat.
It was a little 15ft. tri-hull runabout that could double up for fishing or water skiing . . .  when there was time.

Then we were pregnant again and looking to expand the business.
My daughter is 20 months younger than my son.
He was the perfect big brother.

We purchased a city lot on which to build our dream home.
We even arranged to have plans drawn.
The draftsman never produced.

And the offer to lease was signed for our second location, in Anderson.
Construction was still a few months off, but the developer was getting things all lined up.
Ground broke around the time of my daughters first birthday and we found out our third child was on the way.
The house would get a little crowded.

We opened the doors to the new location two days after Thanksgiving.
Two months later daughter number two was born.
Another two months and there was a fire in the shopping center.
A pump or heater in a fish tank at the pet ship malfunctioned.
The pet shop was the only place that burned, but there was smoke damage in the rest of the shops in the building.
We only lost one day of sales while cleanup was done.
The clothing store didn't fair so well and never recovered from losing their merchandise damaged by the loss.

I found a three acre parcel not far away.
We sold the lot in Redding for double what we paid and used the proceeds to purchase the three acres.
My brother in law had a set of plans we could modify to fulfill our dream.
Construction started in March.
I'm sure someone has a picture of that house, just not me.

I lived there for about three years, adding irrigation, landscaping, and planting fruit trees, while opening a third location for the business.
I also managed to alienate my wife.

It was time for me to move again.

There was only a carport and there was no fence during the six months I rented that house.
Then a regular customer made an offer that was hard to pass up.
Basically, I house sat while he lived an a place more to his liking.

That lasted about eight months, until his family decided he'd gone daft, and convinced him to sell the place.
I might have bought it . . .   but finances were pretty well confused by a divorce.
So I moved again.

Or, I should say my stuff got moved.
In the few months I rented there, I might have spent a night or two each week.
I had met GS and there was a lot more room at the house she was renting in the country west of Redding . . .   even with three teens.

just the one place in the bottom center and only the house was there.

It was well off the roadway and the driveway wasn't paved.
Then, after about a year, the landlord decided to sell.
We had to move.
By this time we were down to three of us.
The older kids had either joined the Navy, been married, or both.
I just remember there were suddenly grandkids.
Come back again tomorrow.

there's more

House II . . . still loose

That's II as in the second in the series, not the second house.

So we moved, my mom and me from San Francisco and pop and my brother from Oakland, to neutral territory.
Menlo Park is about 30 miles south on the Peninsula.
Back then it was a nice, quiet community just beginning to really grow . . .   fast!

There are still some similarities to the house into which we moved in 1951.
The city has changed immensely.
I see posts from people, who came there well after I did, lamenting the disappearance of place that weren't even there when I went away in 1961 to join the Navy.
The middle school I attended was built in 1955, but no longer exists, though the elementary school across the playground is still there.
When I started at that school, in third grade, we were on half day sessions.
The odd numbered grades went in the mornings, even numbers in the afternoon so they could share classrooms.
By the middle of fourth grade there were enough new schools in the district to send us all day.
Our home was closer to the high school than to the grade schools.
We could ride our bicycles and there were two possible routes, one through the VA Hospital where the "mental" cases were.
The high school was a direct route up the street running past the house.
It took ten minutes to walk there and another ten minutes to get across the campus.

In '61 I graduated and joined the Navy, not making a full ten years in that house.
I did return for visits and lived there again for about a year while attending college after getting out of the Navy.
At one time it seemed like I'd lived there forever, but that was because many momentous occasions occurred there and it was part of the family for almost 30 years.

This was my home for the bulk of my Navy service.

I also spent some time in training at San Diego, Treasure Island in SF, and at Pearl Harbor.

During college there were a number of different residences for varying lengths of time as roommates came and went.
It started in Belmont . . .

. . . then at San Carlos . . .

. . . in Redwood City . . .

. . . all in a period of about three years.
I finally moved to East Palo Alto, where working became more important than school.

Parking has always been at a premium in that neighborhood.
I lived there for five and a half years, moving only because my new bride [not GS or MB] wouldn't live there.

We'll continue this tomorrow.

and maybe rant a little

House . . . the muse is loose

Monday morning I drove to Anderson again.
I had a dentist appointment.
I also had an appointment later at the title company.
We signed the papers to close the sale of my house.

There are definitely mixed feelings.
I made it my home for more than 30 years, living there longer than anywhere else.
There are lots of memories there.

That's not to say there aren't memories in any of the other houses where I have lived.
I have fond memories of the first home, which was actually not a house, but an apartment in San Francisco.

We, my mom and I, lived here until I was six.
There were two apartments on each of the three floors.
We were on the third (top) floor.
My aunt and cousin had the other top floor apartment.
There were no trees when we lived there.
Then there was the basement, which was only accessible by going out through the front door, turning left, and then down a narrow alleyway.
The basement was really dark and it scared the pie out of me.

There was another home in SF, my grandparent's, where I spent a great deal of time.

My grandfather built it in about 1920 and my mom and uncle were raised there.
The lawn looked a lot nicer when I was a kid.

There was still another home in SF.
When we got a new landlord at the apartment my mother decided we should have a house.

We lived here for a little more than a year.
When mom remarried, she and pop combined the proceeds from the sale of their homes and we all moved to suburbia.

Out front of the house was the Mt Davidson Hiking Path and in back was the Fire House with a totally awesome hook and ladder truck and friendly firemen [don't know nothin' 'bout Body Punks, so don't ask].

I should mention that I stayed at my other grandparents, too.
But it was more like overnight and they were in big apartment buildings so it was more like just visiting.

I should have mentioned this earlier.
This post was inspired  just a little by the Old AF Sarge and his cohort, Juvat.
I was only going to mention sale of the house in passing.

I should also mention this will probably involve several days of posts and pictures I have not personally taken.

From a shipmate

. . . via Koobecaf

There's a tradition

It's no secret that I feel very blessed.
Truth be told, I am overpaid.
I am fairly certain I don't lack any of life's necessities.
Every day is Thanksgiving.

So there I was*thinking about a new post.
That was almost a week ago.
Unfortunately, I was nowhere near a device that could translate those thoughts into a post . . .   at least one that didn't challenge me more than I wish to be challenged.
So . . .   I think it was in the midst of dishing out mashed potatoes.
We were in South Sac at a community center, serving up dinner for folks who might otherwise forego the Thanksgiving feast.
There was some 600 lbs. of turkeys, barbecued to perfection.

The cooking process required a large oven and a 6am start because only about 1/4 of the birds could be cooked at any one time.
There was also the aforementioned mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, corn, salad, bread, beverages, and dessert.
The 850 or so attendees were seated at a table and then waited upon by about 100 volunteers.
There was also live entertainment throughout the event.

It has been taking place for 23 years.
MB has been involved from the beginning.
This was my second year.
It is not only worthwhile, but it's fun.

chores are a drudge

*sjc

Friday cat

Via email

A Millennial job interview from @TheDanielBrea on Vimeo.

I am really slipping lately.
Remind me to tell all y'all about Thanksgiving.

it was awesome

Dumbfounded

Why?

You saw yesterday's post . . .   right?
Then, this morning, there was no post at all.
But it seems, for the past day and a half, the French and the Brazilians are attracted to this blog like flies on a corpse.

spambots

Friday cat

source: dailytimewaster