Managing the Manor

Samhain                                                                      Thanksgiving Moon

In bed twelve hours. 4 hours asleep, 4 hours awake, 4 hours asleep. Take what I can get.

Beautiful weather here today and tomorrow. Then, could be storm of the century, or a dusting. Really. Forecast ensembles go from 30″ to barely anything. If it tends toward the higher end, Luke and the Golden Solar guys will have a tougher job on Tuesday. Monday, not so bad, since the snow’s supposed to come at night.

Luke was here yesterday by himself. A young guy, late 20’s or early 30’s, wearing nothing but a Doors t-shirt, (well, he did have pants and shoes on, too) Luke worked on the roof most of the day. He put in the anchors that attach to the roof beams, carpenter, then added brackets and rails. “On Monday, we’ll bring a string level, make everything tight. The panels will go on Tuesday.”

“I thought there’d be, well, more people,” I said. “The other guys are finishing up a 45 degree slope job in Denver. This is 18 and I knew I could do this part by myself. Monday there’ll be four of us.”

So. Solar. Then, the loft has gotten closer and closer in terms of shelving and organization of stuff like file boxes, office and art supplies. Still a ways to go, but getting there.

The whole kitchen got delayed due to Thanksgiving. Won’t start till after now. The timing of the work would have left us with no kitchen for the holiday.

Now, I have to call Stevenson Toyota, see when I can get those Blizzaks back on.

 

Self-Care for Future Corpses

Samhain                                                                         Thanksgiving Moon

Eat right, exercise, die anyway. I loved this refrigerator magnet and I love this short article by Sallie Tisdale. Especially for us third phasers. No fear, as the bumper stickers say.

Sallie Jiko Tisdale @ Tricycle.com

Sallie Jiko Tisdale is a Tricycle contributing editor and a lay teacher at Dharma Rain Zen Center in Portland, Oregon. She has authored several books and many essays.

Randy

Samhain                                                                           Thanksgiving Moon

That mattress guy. Randy. I called Mattress Firm, a location on Colorado Avenue, mostly because it was somewhat close to Groundswell, the cannabis boutique we wanted to see.

Randy was eager. “If you come in tomorrow, I’ll give you two free pillows, a free mattress pad, free delivery and the $300 off for the Veteran’s Day Sale.” We wanted a tempurpedic mattress, Mattress Firm sold them and Randy wanted our business. So yesterday we dropped by to see Randy.

Randy, 58, had a watch larger than a silver dollar with a band and case of a mother of pearl like substance, white. His face had a flattened, slightly toad like look, unusual. His clothing would have been appropriate in church save for lack of a tie.

He remembered me. “Charlie, good to meet you. And this is?” Kate.

Over the course of much lying down we learned a lot about Randy. This store had been Mattress King, but they got bought out about a year and a half ago, and Mattress Firm was “Much better. They really cleaned the place up. And I didn’t know whether I could stand the change. It’s been a tough year and a half.”

He went away and came back with two pillows, “Kate,  you’re a side sleeper. You’ll like this latex pillow. Charlie, you’re a stomach sleeper?” Yes, I said. “You’ll like this one, you want your head close to the mattress. This one has bigger circles, means it flattens down more than the one with the smaller circles.” OK.

Like a magician, the Great Randy, he produced a pint size jelly jar with a blue liquid and a cloth stretched over its top. “See, this is the mattress pad. Zero dollars. Smell the windex? Now feel the top.” The top was dry. “Any accident, pet, other on this mattress pad, nothing gets through. Nothing. And, it breathes. That’s why you can smell the windex.” Randy throws it on the bed, letting it bounce around, seemingly ready to spill. Randy the showman.

“Kate, you’re petite, so you don’t need the firm. You won’t press it down. This one is softer, it will conform to you. And, it’s cool. Tempurpedics don’t sleep hot. Feel this tinsel mattress cover. Cool, right?”

 

Later Randy told us about his brother, “A bad guy. But he had an accident, wrapped his SUV around a pole. He was dead at the crash site, but they revived him. Then, he died twice at the hospital. Only one in ten would survive that, but he survived. And now he’s changed. He goes to church, is in the Knights of Columbus. A changed guy.”

“I had to learn the computer, the new process. I like the new process. It’s better. I’m glad I learned it.” This while Randy input our order. “I’m the Felix Unger of Mattress Firm. My store’s clean. My bathroom’s clean. Neat. And they keep it up. See that sign out there? New. Mattress King’s was bad.”

Randy also didn’t get his pick of his stores, but he was happy he ended up here. “My last store, you just sat back.” He tilted back in his big padded office chair, stared at the ceiling. “All I got there were customers from the Taco Bell. They ate their food in my parking lot. I didn’t mind. But when they threw their trash out? Meh.”

“I live up north. Moved in with my brother. Good for both of us.” He sighed, “I’ve learned if you poke the keys over and over, he doesn’t like it. Slows down. So, I just wait.” The big dell monitor divided Randy from us. I had a bottle of water, cold. He’d asked if I preferred warm or cold.

“So. Two pillows. Zero dollars. Mattress pad. Zero dollars. Delivery. Zero dollars. It’s all on here. $200 off the mattress. Rotate it every 3 months, the first two years, then 6 months. If you have any problems, just call the number. They’ll take care of it.”

At that point two women walked in. “Just finishing up here. I’ll be right with you,” Randy said.

 

 

Samhain                                                                             New Thanksgiving Moon

Winter weather advisory last night. Woke up to a good five inches, maybe more. Still falling. Differences in altitude and location make predicting weather for even a relatively small area difficult, especially in the mountains. Also realized I have no gas for the snowblower. Have to wait this one out.

On these mornings I have to clear the deck before I let the dogs out, but Vega hears my shoveling and begins barking. At 4:50 a.m. Not a way to make good neighbors.

These early snows are heavy, wet. Combined with gusts Weather5280 says there might be some power outages. I hope not. The generator got installed, but it needs a hand on it before it’s a reliable partner. Probably not enough rpm’s to generate the electricity we need, a problem most likely created by altitude.

But, our oven’s working, so Thanksgiving will happen here.

Mother earth is crying

Samhain                                                                  New Thanksgiving Moon

Took down the nicest lodgepole we have on our property, about 40 feet tall and healthy. It hit the driveway with such a thump that Kate thought I’d hit the house. When she came out and saw it, Kate said, “Mother earth is crying now.”

Over the last week I’d begun to have mild guilt feelings about cutting down trees.  The ones that were deformed or diseased I had no problem felling since the act was similar to weeding in a garden, or more accurately, thinning. And, the rationale for most is fire mitigation, something necessary because of where we choose to live. The other rationale, the one that led to cutting down the 40 feet lodgepole, is the solar installation.

40 feet high means casting a long shadow and it hits the panels, taking each one it touches out of commission for as long as it covers any part of a panel. So, it was a tradeoff. A fine tree for solar generation of electricity. Not everything you do for what you believe in will feel good. And this one didn’t feel good.

Cutting it down, limbing it, stacking the branches and the top, then moving the large logs I cut the lodgepole into took almost an hour. I got one more tree down and hung a third. It’s still up because I had to take my chainsaw to Chainsaw Bob’s. More on Chainsaw Bob and his unusual business model in the next post.

Kuku Tihar

Samhain                                                                               New Thanksgiving Moon

Again, highlighted by a friend, Paul Strickland. Kuku Tihar*. Kuku Tihar occurs during the celebration, in Nepal, of Diwali. (see below) This year Kuku Tihar, the second day of Diwali, falls on November 12th. Tomorrow. How will you celebrate your dog/dogs?

I was struck by the dignity of the dogs in the pictures I found of Kuku Tihar. The respect seems to carry its own profound message and bring out the seriousness of the dog.

 

 

*Dogs are especially important to Nepal’s Hindu practitioners. During day two of Tihar, Kukur Tihar, the role of dogs in human life and throughout history is celebrated. In theRigveda, one of Hinduism’s most ancient texts, Samara — the mother of dogs — assists Indra, the ruler of heaven, in retrieving stolen cattle. Hindu tradition holds that a dog is the guardian and messenger of Yama, the lord and judge of the dead. A dog is also said to guard the gates of the afterlife.

At the close of the Mahabharata, the king of righteousness, Yudhishthira, refuses to enter heaven without his devoted dog. The dog is revealed to represent the concept of dharma, the path of righteousness. During Tihar, each day is devoted to a honoring a different concept or entity: crows, dogs, cows, oxen, and fraternal relationships, respectively. On the second day, Kukur Tihar, all dogs are recognized, honored, and worshiped.   dogster.com

Peeved

Samhain                                                                              New Thanksgiving Moon

Docent friend Tom Byfield passed this along. Since I know many of you who read this share his affection for John Cleese and the Monty Python gang, I thought I’d post it.

Thanks, Tom.

ALERTS TO THREATS IN 2015 EUROPE
From JOHN CLEESE

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from “Miffed” to “Peeved.” Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to “Irritated” or even “A Bit Cross.” The English have not been “A Bit Cross” since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorised from “Tiresome” to “A Bloody Nuisance.” The last time the British issued a “Bloody Nuisance” warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from “Pissed Off” to “Let’s get the Bastards.” They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Run” to “Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are “Collaborate” and “Surrender.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France ‘s white flag factory, effectively paralysing the country’s military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from “Shout Loudly and Excitedly” to “Elaborate Military Posturing.” Two more levels remain: “Ineffective Combat Operations” and “Change Sides.”

The Germans have increased their alert state from “Disdainful Arrogance” to “Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.” They also have two higher levels: “Invade a Neighbour” and “Lose.”

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels ..

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from “No worries” to “She’ll be right, Mate.” Two more escalation levels remain: “Crikey! I think we’ll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!” and “The barbie is cancelled.” So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level.

Regards,
John Cleese ,
British writer, actor and tall person

And as a final thought – Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC.

Life is too short…

 

Solar Beginnings

Samhain                                                             New Thanksgiving Moon

Solar folks write that they may start as early as this Thursday, certainly by November 16th. That’s exciting. It also ramps up the front’s cut down tree schedule a bit, meaning I have to finish before they do to avoid shading out electricity production. Shouldn’t be a problem. The days between now and then are in the forecast as clear. Today’s a bit warm, 56, for this kind of work. I prefer the 40’s or 30’s. Cutting trees down and up generates a lot of heat.

 

Gaming

Samhain                                                                           New Thanksgiving Moon

Kate and I have been playing, for the past several nights, a round or two of Bethumped Words. The game has questions at 6 levels of difficulty and the hard ones, 5 & 6, can be real stumpers. It’s a fun addition to our evening and we’re running 4 to 3 right now, so we’re pretty evenly matched. Kate’s a crossword gal and her expertise with puzzles makes her a formidable opponent.

I have some difficulty with games. They seem frivolous, time-wasters (for some reason unlike T.V., which I watch with no guilt in the evening); yet, too often, my competitive streak takes over and they become serious. So, I go into games with that paradoxical attitude. They don’t matter. They matter too much.

This is overthinking, I know. But there you are.

An example from childhood just came to me. We didn’t play games as a family, but Dad and I played increase your wordscore in Reader’s Digest. That is, we played it until I began consistently beating him. Then, we stopped. This may be the source of my game paradox-not serious, too serious.

Life on Shadow Mountain can be one that includes games, serious or not. Maybe both.

 

 

 

Holiseason Events

Samhain                                                                      Moon of the First Snow

Over to Conifer Mountain for a Christmas craft boutique at the Conifer High School. Bespoke soup kits, mountain honey, glass cutting boards with mountain scenes, pine cone wreaths and bowls cut from 2 year dead aspen. Bob, who made the bowls, says, “If you get the wood too soon, it’s all white. If it’s too old, it’s crumbly.” He has, he says, a garage full of aspen trunks neighbors have brought him. In another room Mountain Mama Knits, pottery of various sorts, crystals, Three Hands Traders with handmade leather books and 1790’s wooden portable writing desks, quill pens and powdered ink.

Kate’s on her way to the Episcopal Church for another one. Not me. One leg wobbling shopping event a day for me, thanks.

It’s in the very low 50’s/high 40’s today so the snow has begun to melt. The next few days will be good ones for fire mitigation work. The front has to be finished before the third week of November because the solar panels may go on then. Always Chipper, LLC, will chip our slash and cut down trees I can’t fell.

Feeling that weekend malaise setting in. A powerful urge to stop whatever seems intentional and watch TV. Maybe even go to a holiday craft show?

German safety goggles, knit hat and Honolua hoodie. The perfect fashion statement for Shadow Mountain lumberjacks.