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Weekly Quote
“Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.”
—Mark Twain
An Old Pen Shop Is Mightier Than the Death of Cursive
March 15, 2023
I share with you this Blog posted by Jack Limpert, long-time Editor of the Washington Post. Jack’s Blog, About Editing and Writing, can be found @ https://jacklimpert.com
This writer loves Pens also. A Sharpie S-Gel 0.7 is my go-to. Like John Wayne back in the day. I always carry. “If it’s not written down, it never happened.”
From a Washington Post story by Tara Bahrampour headlined “An old pen shop proves mightier than the pandemic and the death of cursive”:
The enormous patina-green fountain pen juts over the sidewalk on F Street, two blocks from the White House, its gold nib pointing down at the front doors like a command.
“Fahrney’s Pens,” the sign in calligraphy reads. Inside, the narrow space with 28-foot ceilings is a cathedral to its acolytes, its objects of worship gleaming under glass counters. Ball or fountain. Plastic or rose gold. Steel or acrylic resin, redwood or ebony, matte or shiny.
“Allow me to dip it,” store manager Phuntsok Namgyal says softly. He bathes a nib in a bottle of blue-black ink and hands a fountain pen to a customer, who dashes off his signature.
“Perfect,” the customer says. “It makes you want to write more.”
In its 94 years, Fahrney’s has outlasted the advent of mass-produced ballpoints, the rise of email and text messages, and a pandemic that decimated newer downtown businesses all around it. Its staying power can be attributed to a base of loyal old customers, along with a new generation raised on the digital but enchanted by the mechanical.
But the future of a shop dedicated to luxury pens will depend on more people wanting to write more. Some parts of the country have become pen-shop deserts, said Jonathan Weinberg, an artist and curator of the Maurice Sendak Foundation in Ridgefield, Conn., a state where he knows of no pen shops. “It’s a dying breed.”
One reason for Fahrney’s resilience may be its location.
“There’s just so many potential buyers, between senior government employees, law firms, lobbyists, accountants” in Washington, D.C., said David Baker, executive director of the Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association. “There is a significant group of consumers that like to hold a fine writing instrument in their hand.”
Susan Ebner, 67, a lawyer from Potomac, Md., has been coming to Fahrney’s since the 1980s; on a visit last week, she reeled off the names of pens she had bought there and the year she had bought each one. Solomon Dennis, 79, of the District came in for refills.
“I was dealing with this shop when they were at the Willard,” he said, referring to the storied hotel. Fahrney’s moved to its current spot around the turn of the 21st century.
Dennis, leaning on a copper-colored walking stick, recalled the first pen he bought at Fahrney’s, in 1974: a Montblanc Diplomat. “It was a hundred and fifty dollars then; I think it’s a thousand and fifty now,” he said. When he lost it, he cried for a week.
Pens at Fahrney’s range from $20 to nearly $5,000 and from themes like Harry Potter to King Tut. Some have historical connections, like the Fisher Apollo, a ballpoint pen that traveled to the moon and contains gas that allows it to work underwater, upside down, in freezing temperatures and at zero gravity. A National Zoo pen features pandas.
Once, Fahrney’s sold a $130,000 pen “completely covered in diamonds,” store owner Chris Sullivan said.
Robert Collie, 58, of Vienna, Va., inherited a Parker 51 fountain pen from his father, who died when he was 8. “Three years ago, my mom says, ‘Oh, I forgot I had this; it was your dad’s,’” he said. Last week, Collie came to the shop to buy a similar one for his son, who was turning 25.
“I’m thinking maybe a fountain pen with his name engraved on it,” Collie said.
Choosing a pen is personal. How do you tend to hold it? Is your lettering large and loopy? Do you close your L’s? Do you prefer the feel of a light pen or a heavy one? Flashy or subtle? Fine tip or broad?
“It shows their individuality,” Sullivan said.
Sullivan’s parents bought the store in 1972 from founder Earl Fahrney. Sullivan, 62, worked in the shop growing up and now co-owns it with his sister; his 83-year-old mother is still working, too, in the warehouse in Upper Marlboro. (“I can’t get her to stop,” he said.)
Fahrney used to tell of how the store once supplied the White House, Sullivan recounted, aides “running down the street, knocking on his door after the shop closed.”
Nowadays, in-person purchases account for just 15 percent of sales; the rest is online and catalogue, he said. Still, the pandemic hit the shop hard. Its doors closed for three months, and business still hasn’t returned to what it was. “Look across the street,” Sullivan said, gesturing at papered-over shop windows. “It’s horrible.”
Worse were the lives lost during covid: Chuck Edwards, who repaired pens at Fahrney’s for three and a half decades; Elizabeth Spinks-Bunn, who taught calligraphy and cursive classes; and Sullivan’s father, Jon. The shop now displays Edwards’s neatly folded navy-blue work uniform, “The Pen Doctor” embroidered on its front, in a shadow box by his repair bench.
The store still does repairs, though it is getting harder to find parts. It also sells stationery, journals, inks and calligraphy books, a small bulwark against the drift of a country that long ago dropped handwriting classes from school curriculums.
And yet the generation that didn’t learn cursive has somehow fallen for fountain pens — and their interest is helping drive demand. The average age of customers at Fahrney’s is 60, but it is dropping, Sullivan said.
“There’s a lot of young buyers — ‘young’ being people in their 30s — paying $1,200 for a pen,” said Baker, the association director. “From what I hear, during covid, a lot of collectibles and fine items became significant as people had time to browse and look at these things.”
Trends like urban sketching and journaling have helped spur interest in fountain pens in particular, said Weinberg, who owns around 250 of them. “With a ballpoint pen, your hand tends to get a little cramped,” he said. “Your hand kind of flies across the page with a fountain pen.”
Like many old-school technologies, they do have drawbacks: the ink staining your hands when you fill them, the risk of leaks on planes. But for young people, who are embracing typewriters and vinyl, the glitches are part of the charm.
“Just as with records, you had all the scratches and skipping,” Weinberg said. “Young people don’t have that history, so they tend to romanticize.”
And so it was last week that a gaggle of young people, members of the concert choir at Otterbein University in central Ohio, skidded to a stop below the giant pen out front, mouths agape.
“CONNOR!”
“A pen shop!”
Connor Rosenberger, a 19-year-old music major with flowing blond hair, had been searching for a fountain pen in every town the choir had visited on its tour. He said he takes notes in class by hand, because “psychology studies show you retain the information better,” and journals “all the time.” But there are no pen shops where he lives.
“It’s like a candy store for me,” Rosenberger said, standing in the middle of Fahrney’s, as if unsure where to turn. “A very expensive candy store.”
For his choir mates, too. Teddy McIntyre, a 21-year-old redhead with a denim jacket and a mustache, said he writes actual letters to relatives. “It’s kind of like opening a present, instead of getting an email sent to you. And it gives me an excuse to use my wax seal,” he said. And Anna Kate Scott, 22, said she writes novels and short stories by pen “because I feel more like I’m in it, rather than separated from it by a screen.”
At the counter, Rosenberger pointed at pen after pen, and Namgyal took each one out for him to try.
“This is so exciting,” Scott said. “You have to tell your mom that you found a whole fountain pen store!”
Rosenberger hesitated. The pen he was eyeing, an orange and black Monteverde Regatta Sport, cost $90. “She doesn’t like my obsession,” he said. “She’s like, ‘You only need one.’”
Soon, he was on the phone with her.
“I’ve bought nothing,” he relayed. “I actually broke one of my friends’ bracelets, and she didn’t ask me to, but I bought her a new one … and I bought myself a new ring that was five bucks.”
His friends were playing with a four-foot approximation of a Shaeffer fountain pen. They posed for photos with it. McIntyre held it up like a bazooka.
Rosenberger got off the call with his mom.
“She said use your best judgment,” he said.
Tara Bahrampour, a Post staff writer based in Washington, D.C., writes about aging, generations and demography. She has also covered immigration and education and has reported from the Middle East and North Africa, and from the republic of Georgia.
And finally, some recent losses.
Six weeks ago we had eight hens of various descriptions providing us with eggs. Thanks to a local Red-Tailed Hawk, we are down to six. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses …” Oops, that’s on the plaque at the base of the Statute of Liberty. Have you seen the price of Eggs lately?
Sunsets over the Chesapeake
Golden rays of sun descend, On creeks and fields near Chesapeake’s bay. The sky ablaze in shades of red, As day gives way to night’s display.
The air is filled with peaceful sounds of chirping crickets, singing birds. The gentle trickle of the creek’s bounds A symphony of nature’s words.
The grassy fields, a sea of green Stretch out as far as the eye can see. Beneath the sunset’s dazzling sheen, A beautiful sight, so wild and free.
I stand and bask in nature’s glow As the sun sinks lower in the sky. This moment of peace and calm, I know, Will stay with me until I die
So I’ll sit and watch the sunset fade On creeks and fields near Chesapeake’s bay. Content to rest in nature’s shade As the world slips quietly away. theRooster 01/03/23
Both photos were taken on Maryland’s Eastern Shore on 2 January 2023 with an IPhone 11. Our Lord’s paintbrush, just doing its thing.
Never Forget
I meant to send the below out on several mediums a few weeks ago. Business in my life obviously kept it in my draft file and it never was posted. Perhaps you may think the timing is poor, if so apologies are extended to you.Several years ago on a trip to Germany my son-in-law and I had the opportunity to visit the Dachau Concentration camp.
Dachau (/ˈdɑːxaʊ/)[3] was the first concentration camp built by Nazi Germany, opening on 22 March 1933. The camp was initially intended to intern Hitler’s political opponents which consisted of: communists, social democrats, and other dissidents.[4] It is located on the grounds of an abandoned munitions factory northeast of the medieval town of Dachau, about 16 km (10 mi) northwest of Munich in the state of Bavaria, in southern Germany.[5] After its opening by Heinrich Himmler, its purpose was enlarged to include forced labor, and, eventually, the imprisonment of Jews, Romani, German and Austrian criminals, and, finally, foreign nationals from countries that Germany occupied or invaded. The Dachau camp system grew to include nearly 100 sub-camps, which were mostly work camps or Arbeitskommandos, and were located throughout southern Germany and Austria.[6] The main camp was liberated by U.S. forces on 29 April 1945.
Prisoners lived in constant fear of brutal treatment and terror detention including standing cells, floggings, the so-called tree or pole hanging, and standing at attention for extremely long periods.[7] There were 32,000 documented deaths at the camp, and thousands that are undocumented.[8] Approximately 10,000 of the 30,000 prisoners were sick at the time of liberation.[9][10]
In the postwar years, the Dachau facility served to hold SS soldiers awaiting trial. After 1948, it held ethnic Germans who had been expelled from eastern Europe and were awaiting resettlement, and also was used for a time as a United States military base during the occupation. It was finally closed in 1960. (Reprinted from Wikipedia)
Now it is clear why the media hardly mentioned Pearl Harbor this year.When I was a kid, I couldn’t understand why Eisenhower was so popular. Maybe this will explain why General Eisenhower Warned Us. It is a matter of history that when the Supreme Commander of the Allied
Forces, General Dwight Eisenhower, found the victims of the death camps he ordered all possible photographs to be taken, and for the German people from surrounding villages to be ushered through the camps and even made to bury the dead. He did this because he said in words to this effect: ‘Get it all on record now – get the films – get the witnesses – because somewhere down the road of history some bastard will get up and say that this never happened.
This week, the UK debated whether to remove The Holocaust from it school curriculum because it ‘offends’ the Muslim population which claims it never occurred. It is not removed as yet. However, this is a frightening portent of the fear that is gripping the world and how easily each country is giving into it. It is now more than 70 years after the Second World War in Europe ended. This e-mail is being sent as a memorial chain, in memory of the, six million Jews, 20 million Russians, 10 million Christians, and 1,900 Catholic priests Who were ‘murdered, raped, burned, starved, beaten, experimented on and humiliated’ while many in the world looked the other way! Now, more than ever, with Iran, among others, claiming the Holocaust to be ‘a myth,’ it is imperative to make sure the world never forgets.
How many years will it be before the attack on the World Trade Center ‘NEVER HAPPENED’, because it offends some Muslims?Do not just delete this message; it will take only a minute to pass this along. Remember when all classrooms had an American flag in them? Do they even teach our children about the World Trade Center attacks in 1993 and 2001, or did it go the way of Pearl Harbor and Veterans Day? Don’t even mention Christmas or Hanukkah or prayers in school. Many schools no longer recite the Pledge of Allegiance and many children do not know the words to our National Anthem, or that we even have one!
On a more joyous note I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.
Semper Fi
Hamburger Helper
This morning the wife and I are sitting at the kitchen table and I notice a box of Hamburger Helper on the counter. It’s been many a year since I’ve seen a box like that in our house. ” What pray God are we doing with that,” says I. The little lady answers with, “I just thought a trip back to the fifties might be something different”
I am shocked. We eat quite well mostly, no strict diet of one kind or another. Our diet is what I would call well rounded. None of that scheduled fasting, no Vegan, Ketogenic, Mediterranean, Paleo, Weight Watcher’s, Carb Cycling or what ever. I’d like to call our diet a good old sensible 1950’s real food diet. I mean, for goodness sakes, I’ll be eighty (80) in a few months, we must be doing something right.
So, getting back to the Helper. No Hamburger in the freezer, so the lady breaks out a pound of ground Pork. “How about some Green Beans with that.” “No,” Hamburger Helper I’m told. You see, I love Green Beans. I could most likely finish a #10 can of the beans all by myself. I’m told there may be some Spinach mixed in. Wouldn’t Popeye be proud of us. So, tonight, it’s back to the fifties.
Our daughter Kathryn and son-in-law Jeff have Jeff’s dad living with them for a few months. Jeff’s heading to Austria and Slovenia for a few weeks soon and we shall prepare some of the meals. I’m guessing Jeff will eat quite well on someone else’s dime. Daughter Kathryn gets busy at work so we shall help with a meal or two on the table for her and her father-in-law.
Some great meals from the fifties, Beef Stroganoff, thanks Hamburger Helper. Next on most everyone’s list, Meat Loaf. The beefy, robust flavors come together like nothing else and have become cherished by every American across the country. How about Skirt Steak on the grill? After World War II, American families could finally get more access to meat and with the advent of outdoor grilling, steaks became the hot item that continues to define American cuisine.
Chicken and dumplings trace their roots back for centuries. Our dumplings are called Slicks. Auntie Ems has them all ready to boil and frozen should you wish to shop in our Food Lion or Acme. A bit of Green Bean Casserole on the side would be lovely. My good Irish friend Ed O’Leary uses the word LOVELY quite often. Hands across the sea you know. I have a cousin, haven’t seen her in years, Patty was her name. For family functions we could always depend on Green Beans and Onion topping. If you’re reading this, “Hi Patty.”
Chili, we eat this with a bit of frequency, thanks to son-in-law Jeff. It’s especially good during football season. On the side you’ll always find a bowl of Jalapenos. His gut must always be in turmoil.
I could go on and on, how about Chicken Pot Pie, a Sunday Beef or Pork Roast with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots, and weekend meals are sure to transform forever. Don’t forget to go to Sunday School.
We in our suburban Philadelphia home always had, it seemed like a weekly staple anyhow, Fish Sticks. To this day, I deplore Fish Steaks.
At any rate, should you be old enough to remember, perhaps I’ve stimulated your brain and taste buds. Eat well, eat often, and don’t go to be hungry.
Turn off the TV and internet fifteen minutes early, pick up your favorite book, and read a few pages. It really helps you sleep. Currently, I’m Reading “Fall of Giants” by Ken Follett. It seems lately it’s either history or the life and times of Stone Barrington that I’m reading. Stuart Woods writes about Mr. Barrington.
25f on 12/06 on Md’s Eastern Shore this AM. It was a bit chilly when I let the chickens out of the hutch. Now, if we could just have a few more eggs girls. They’ve reached the terrible twos, The egg count is down.
Don’t forget to check on the elderly.
Fruitcake
Thinking back, more years than I really hate to remember, there was always a Fruit Cake in our, or my grandmothers home. Imbedded into the fruitcake was Paradise Green Candied Cherries–also known as Glace Green Cherries–have been a part of candied fruit recipes for generations. Green candied cherries are sweet and chewy, and complement red candied cherries in a variety of recipes, making for a more colorful and tasty baked treat. I detested those colored cherries as well as the red, orange and blue ones also. When you come right down to it, I detested Fruitcake, especially back in my single did-get days. I’d be right to say I detested Fruitcake in my teens also.
Citron is and has been used in fruitcakes forever. Perhaps as a youngster, now there’s a word you don’t hear much these days, I wasn’t a fan of Citron, but I’ve come to learn there are some real health benefits from eating Citron.
Let me jump forward sixty-plus years, actually one year shy of age eighty, and my ability to enjoy Fruitcake today. For the past four years I’ve enjoyed the Abby of Getheehsemani’s prize-winning 2 1/2 lb Kentucky Bourbon Fruitcake. The Abbey is a monastery in the Order of the Cistercians of the Strict Observance (OCSO), part of the body of the Roman Catholic Church. Nothing during the month of December brings more enjoyment in the mornings than a piece of the Monks Fruitcake and a nice hot cup of Pete’s dark roast coffee.
Happy Cristmas to all 3 weeks early.
Across the Bay
There are three women from around here that do a Whale of a good thing together. For at least the past three years these ladies have ventured out on the SEA, we call it the Atlantic Ocean around here. So far it has been via the Tidewater area of Virginia. To get there from here you head south and cross the lower Chesapeake Bay where it meets the Atlantic Ocean via the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. This year the trio will take the Cape May – Lewes Ferry, crossing Delaware Bay. And what is this you ask, it’s a Whale watching adventure, on a boat.
The girls, Mary Agnes, Kathryn, and Alexis do a lot of things together. Mary Agnes is the Matriarch, Kathryn is her daughter, and Alexis might as well be a daughter. There is a definite Irish connection there. We shall save that connection for another time down the road. These girls also spend a lot of time together wearing out the soles of sneakers. Marathons, half marathons, 10-Ks, 5-Ks and lazy meanderings are often the order of a day off together.
Previously the girls used Virginia Beach, VA as their launch site. This year they shall venture out from Cape May. They will spend their nights in Wildwood Crest, just north of Cape May. New places to shop, new restaurants to try out. Perhaps they could work their way north in the coming years and travel further up the east coast. There great shopping and food venues in places like Montauk, Long Island, Newport, Rhode Island, and Gloucester, Massachusetts. I’m told they even see Whales way up there in Canada.
What a difference a day makes. Yesterday we had temperatures in the low to mid 70’s here on the East Coast of the USA. It is now Sunday 13 November 2022 and as I type this at 0630 hrs. it is 49f, 9.4c for the rest of the world. Will we ever change and join the world community? But then again, the English still weigh in Stones. I guess we all have our little quirks.
11/13/2022 Today’s Marine Forcast…Nw Winds Around 20 Kt With Gusts Up To 30 Kt. Seas 3 To 5 Ft. Nw Swell 3 To 5 Ft At 4 Seconds. Light Swells. Showers Likely Early This Morning, Then A Chance Of Showers Late This Morning. A small craft warning is in effect. Will the girls get a rain check once again? Thank the good Lord shopping is always an option.
November 10, 2022
A Birthday
Yes today is my birthday, along with every other present and past United States Marine. No matter where we born, Parris Island, SC, San Diego CA or Quantico, VA. When you get that Eagle Globe and Anchor, your life as a Marine has begun. I feel I’m looking pretty good for a man of 247 years.
Here is the Commandant’s message for this the 247 Birthday of the Marine Corps. Should you be interested in learning a little more, take a few minutes and watch the accompanying video.
The US Marine Corps started as the Continental Marines on November 10, 1775. On that date, the Second Continental Congress decided that they needed 2 battalions of Marines to serve as landing forces with the Continental Navy during the American Revolutionary War (1775–1783).
(Photo from : https://weaponsandwarfare.com/about/
After the war, the Continental Navy was dismantled, and as a consequence the Marines as well. However, after increasing conflict with revolutionary France, the Marine Corps was formally re-established.
Trainning
If you live east of the Mississippi river, your boot camp training will be located at Parris Island, SC. Now there is a special place that brings back many memories from every Marine who has gone through that training.
Parris Island has a long history of colonization. Many attempts were made at permanent settlement between 1526 and 1722. The first successful attempt was made by the French in 1562, followed by the Spanish and finally the British. After the Revolutionary War, Parris Island plantations began to grow cotton instead of indigo. During the Civil War, the island became a coaling station for the Union Navy.
Nov. 2, 1861 – The first Marines in the area of Parris Island sailed into Port Royal Harbor, S.C., as members of detachments aboard various ships with the Atlantic Blockading Squadron. Commanding officer, Navy Capt. Samuel F. Du Pont, seized the area and it was used as an important base for the Union Navy throughout the Civil War.
Aug. 7, 1882 – An act of Congress authorized the establishment and construction of a coaling dock and naval storehouse at Port Royal Harbor. A select group of naval officers chose Parris Island as the site.
Yamassee
In early July of 1962 this writer arrived at Parris Island via Yamassee, SC.
Although Parris Island’s first recruits arrived on the USS Prairie in October 1915, the Marines developed that same year a train station at Yemassee, S.C., which was the depot’s initial receiving point for the central and eastern recruiting stations. The town then had a bank, a general store, a few houses and “an abundancy of South Carolina pine.” A hotel was also there in 1915, and the Marines praised its ballroom and the gracious hospitality of the townspeople, especially its pretty girls. Recruits arriving at Yemassee on the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad would be transferred to the Charleston & Western Railroad, which ran to Port Royal. Once there, the World War I recruits would be placed on everything from side wheel ferryboats, barges, long boats or a kicker (a small motor boat) for the trip to Parris Island. Today, most all recruits are flown to this great advenure and will land in Charleston, SC.
I along with a host of new recruits from more northern states would board a train at 30th street station in Philadelphia, PA and head south to 13 weeks of summer camp. Should wish to learn more of this summer adventure check out https://www.mcrdpi.marines.mil/Centennial-Celebration/Historical-information/8-Yemassee-SC/
Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego
Today this Recruit Depot provides its nation’s Corps with basically trained Marines to fight in the current conflicts in both Iraq and Afghanistan. The depot has the responsibility to train all male recruits who reside west of the Mississippi River to serve at the call of the nation. Some history should you be interested. https://www.mcrdsd.marines.mil/About/Depot-History/
Officer Candidates School
The mission of Officer Candidates School (OCS) is to educate and train officer candidates in Marine Corps knowledge and skills within a controlled and challenging environment in order to evaluate and screen individuals for the leadership, moral, mental, and physical qualities required for commissioning as a Marine Corps officer.
The First Blog
I find it hard to believe I started blogging way back in 2008, February 2008 actually. I used Blogspot by Google back then. I’ll still copy and paste on that venue from time to time. For today however, I shall share with you my first blog. A few things are different however, like I was up at 0400 this morning with the Mrs having coffee. She is gone, having walked to the eldest daughter’s home a mile away. The Mrs usually has 10,000 steps in prior to 0800. The daughters, now that’s a busy house, at the moment. husband Jeff (where in the world is Jeff ?) he’s still working from home for the government. Youngest daughter Abby and husband Antwan are living in the Frog, (Finished room over the garage). Their cat, Friday and dog Phoebe are there also. Oh, on Friday the young’ns are expecting their first child. Kathryn & Jeff have Libby, 14 YO Yellow Lab and their cat Bolt. That’s what the cat does when he she sees a stranger, BOLTS. On this morning daughter Kathryn will be out the door early for a Salvation Army breakfast.
So here you go folks, should anyone be interested, my first BLOG.
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2008
Blog, kind of sounds like a cold, or a zit or some kind of an affliction. My first day with a blog, now what do I do with it?
Well to start off I’ll let the world know how I start my day on the Internet.
My start up page is http//refdesk.com
Having spent twenty years in Connecticut I next go to http://www.courant.com/ to check on the local news and how the UCONN Huskies are doing in any given season. I’m a forty year Huskie fan. http://www.uconnhuskies.com/
Next up, but sometimes #1 is the weather. While in the Marine Corps, way back when, I was in Weather as an occupation with Rawinsonde as a sub specialty. http://usmilitary.about.com/library/milinfo/marineenjobs/bl68.htm
I use a verity of weather related sites www.nws.noaa.gov/ #1, my other favorites are www.accuweather.com and www.weatherunderground.com
During the Hurricane season I live by the National Hurricane Center. www.nhc.noaa.gov/
I have friends and family in CT, FL, CA, and affections to Key West, FL, Pagosa Springs, CO, Flagstaff, AZ and Ireland and Germany. So, I usually check on the weather in those places.
Next it’s off to the Washington Post and Washington Times to get two diametric views on the news. www.washingtonpost.com
www.washingtontimes.com
After the two DC papers I go to Google News, which I have preference settings in and glance over that. Next is onto my mail servers.
From then on I usually have a Memo Pad with notes on things to look up and it’s off I go. This all starts shortly after I get up, usually around 0500. Once downstairs it’s a hot cup of tea to start the day.
Here, I’ve given the world the start of my day for the start of a BLOG. I shall end this bantering with saying Cead Mile Failte
TheRooster Semper Fi
Don’t forget to check on the elderly.
Good Deed Turns Into A Blood Bath
It turns out that my neighbor from the opposite side of the street out here in the country needed some help with his pool yesterday. I’ve had some experience with filters and such, so I was pressed into service.
Just as I was returning from an exercise walk, my phone rings, it’s my neighbor Jim. He explains the dilemma he’s presently having with his pool filter. I’m actually at the mouth of his driveway when I get the call. I tell him I’ll be right over. I walk to my house to check in, the wife is in the midst of fixing a wonderful country breakfast. I let her know the issue Jim is having with his pool, that I’m going to give him a hand and I’ll return in a jiffy, NOT. I get that look, if you’ve been married fifty-five years you know the look.
I walk back across the street and find my neighbor poolside, standing next to the filter outside the pool. He fills me in on what was going on, he can’t seed the guts of the filter properly and is pumping Diatomaceous Earth back in the pool. Jim looks at me and says, ”Linda is going to Kill me,” together for over thirty some years, I’m guessing he knows “that” look also.
I survey the situation, eventually figuring out the flow scheme and how the guts need to fit into a plethora of tubes, few, if any are properly seeded. Jim proceeds to tell me he’s not very mechanical, but if you need your appendix removed he could do that quite successfully. I request a rubber mallet and gently tap all into place. Combined we start to put the lid into place, I proceed to drop one of the wing nuts needed into the bottom of the filter. Once again the entire guts are remove and I go fishing blindly through the murky Diatomaceous earthen waters and retrieve the wing nut.
Slam, Bam, thank you Ma’am, the second try is the Coup de Gras. We check all the connections, hit the start switch and dang if we don’t have clear running water going back into the pool. Jim breaths a sigh of relief, the wrath of Linda shall not come upon him. Jim says thanks, I say “that’s what neighbors do.”
![Keto Bacon And Eggs Recipe [Carbs & Calories Counts]](https://cdn.ruled.me/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/keto-bacon-and-eggs-featured.jpg)
Back home the Mrs, God Bless her, says “two or three pieces of bacon” with my perfectly Butter Scrambled eggs and raspberry spread toast? “Three” I say, and proceed to tell her the pool filter event. All is calm in Dodge.
Fast forward 6 hours and Jim says on Face Book.
OK, so the day started out uneventfully. I was having a problem with my pool filter, no matter what I did the pressure would rise after a couple of hours post back washing. I called my pool service and was told that they don’t do service calls on Saturday. So I called my good friend, next door neighbor, former Marine, retired State Trooper, and all around recognized pool guru.
Linda and I decided to put the leaf net over the pool since the Crepe Myrtles were dropping tons of blossoms into the pool. We couldn’t find any clothesline rope so we decided to use coated wire clothes line rope temporarily to hold the net in place until Monday. All good, right? My wire cutters wouldn’t cut the braided wire very well so Linda suggested using s hatchet to cut the line.
Good idea! But as I was cutting the third length of wire rope I chopped off the tip of my left thumb. Blood flew everywhere and I headed to the house, irrigated the wound for ten minutes, Applied an antibiotic cream, wrapped it with a paper towel, then a second, then a third, and a fourth and still the blood was spewing from the wound. So much for taking daily aspirin. I elevated it above my head to no avail until Linda came into the house, took charge and put a proper bandage on the wound.
Not the best of days, tomorrow I am going to sit in the recliner all day and try not to further damage my body or my psyche. That is all. Hope you had a better day !
I, sometime after Jim’s post, look at the Face Book message Jim posted of the incident, and reply to Jim the following.
You should have called the Marine across the street. Rumor has it he always has a couple hundred feet of Para-Cord on hand, an extremely sharp knife that he knows how to use as well, is always clipped to his pocket. Another rumor I’ve been told is that the knife is so sharp than an Air Force PJ Medic once borrowed the same knife to perform an emergency appendectomy during a remote clandestine military mission.
Obviously this loping off the end of a thumb was not representative of good use of available resources. Lesson learned, when all else fails, call in the Marines. Semper Fi
Just another day in the country!
A share by someone I follow
Caterpillars Don’t Become Butterflies!
Posted on January 6, 2015 by mitchteemley
Did you know that caterpillars are not “transformed” into butterflies? In metamorphosis (the name of the process), a caterpillar is liquefied. Only after its actual death can entirely new creature, a butterfly, emerge!
But most people’s image of the process is more like Eric Carle’s classic children’s book The Very Hungry Caterpillar, in which the little caterpillar “makes a cocoon around himself and goes to sleep, only to wake up a few weeks later wonderfully transformed into a butterfly!” (amazon.com)
The Very Dead Caterpillar would probably have sold fewer copies. But it would have been more accurate.
When I was a kid, I used to love going to La Mirada Creek and catching those pudgy little pre-frogs we called pollywogs (you may have known them as tadpoles). I would bring them home and dump them into a tub, and then watch with fascination as they shed their tails, sprouted legs, and crawled out like showroom models: “The new Frog!” That’s transformation (“change of form”) and it’s majorly cool. But it’s not what a caterpillar does.
A caterpillar dies.
After building its own coffin (cocoon), the caterpillar seals itself inside—and dissolves. And then, in a process only vaguely understood by scientists, that stew of free-floating genetic material undergoes a total metamorphosis (“change of nature”).
In other words, butterflies are not souped-up caterpillars, they’re entirely new creations made from caterpillar soup!
Not surprisingly, caterpillars and butterflies are used as spiritual symbols in virtually every culture on earth. But because the real process is so radical and so little understood, they’re nearly always represented as symbols of transformation, rather than metamorphosis. To be fair, many religious teachings do help people become better caterpillars.
But that’s not enough.
According to Jesus, God doesn’t want souped-up caterpillars, he wants butterflies. He wants us to die to ourselves (Luke 9:23-24) and become completely “new creations” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Just like caterpillars do.
The Apostle Paul (in the Greek language of Romans 12:1 and 2) describes the process of metamorphosis like this:
“Present your bodies as a living sacrifice (build your cocoon and get in!), holy (‘set apart’), acceptable to God (nothing short of metamorphosis can accomplish this)… Don’t be conformed by (don’t take on the ‘shape’ of) this world (or ‘age’ or ‘era’), but (instead) be metamorphosed (changed in your very nature) by the renewing (‘regenerating’ or ‘re-growing”) of your mind (incidentally, the Greek word for mind is psuche—the same as the Greek word for butterfly!) so that you may be discerning (only by being metamorphosed can you know) what is the will of God (as opposed to the will of a dark and broken world), what is good, well-pleasing, and perfect (‘complete’ or ‘whole’—in contrast to the incompleteness and brokenness of this world).”
Caterpillars and butterflies are the world’s most popular symbol of transformation. But they’re also a far more powerful and challenging metaphor than most people realize.
It’s still the beginning of a new year. What better time to start over, not just as “the new You!” but as a completely new creation!
Are you ready to start work on that cocoon? Thanks Mitch, much appreciated, theRooster
As The Rooster Crows 