It's a big committment to marry someone. Perhaps one of the biggest committments of your life. Lately, I found something that, strangely enough, seems more so.
Consider this ... would you put your spouse's face permanently on your body?
I got the idea just before Holly's birthday and looked at a link she had sent me while she was researching what she wanted for a her next tattoo. I visited the link and was amazed by the quality of work the artist had to show online. So, on a whim, I gathered up 3 or 4 of Holly's best pics and drove to Colonial Heights to visit Tom at Mystic Tattoo.
Tom is a great guy. A free-loving spirit with strong convictions and a tremendous heart. We started off with a business transaction that turned into a friendship. Over the next couple of weeks Tom created several drafts of a photo I brought him and Holly's beautiful face began to emerge as a living piece of artwork. Tom, recognizing how much this meant to me took great care in constructing the picture, and even when it was perfect, he fretted about this line or that. Finally we had a date for the job ... Friday June, 23rd. (Brenda, Tom's wife and an absolutely wonderful woman, shifted the busy schedule around and got me in as soon as she could.)
As Friday approached I was excited and nervous. I'd never had a tattoo done on my chest and I heard stories of how painful it could be. But I began to realize it wasn't just the pain that had me on edge. It was the fact that I was about to put another person's face permanently etched upon my own flesh. As I thought about that, I realized this was the true marriage proposal. It far outweighed me getting down on one knee in an empty mall courtyard and blubbering something unintelligible that neither Holly nor I can remember. This was hardcore. This was real.
Now, two days after Friday, I feel truly married to my wife. She is truly a part of me and I have no regrets. I love her. And everyday hereafter I can simply look into a mirror and see her beautiful face smiling back at me. I am a happily married man.
(Pictures of the tattoo are in the gallery section.)
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Drunks and Mailboxes
Country living is pleasant, but there are downsides. Take for instance, the large number of people who drive home drunk because they're on the backroads. This puts all country-living dweller's mailboxes at greater risk of getting hit.
And then, suppose you drive twenty minutes to the closest hardware store, pick up a new mailbox, and drive home, only to discover the new mailbox is missing installation instructions, address numbers and the hardware to put it together.
This is a recipe for frustration. Thankfully, we are used to that by now, so mishaps along the way are almost expected.
Stefan and I replaced our mailbox for the second time today. When we first moved in, we had an oversized mailbox sitting precariously on a wooden pole on the right side of the driveway (assume the house is on the right side of the road). It was balanced on its perch by some duct tape and bunji cords. We eventually replaced the mailbox, once we got tired of having to rebalance it on the post, and it was quite an ordeal because we didn't have all the right tools, so we improvised. Stefan drilled that thing into the post with some massive screws. We were proud of our handiwork. The mailbox even had a fancy reflective number thingy-majig on the top of the mailbox. We even put some reflectors on both sides of the post so it would be seen more easily at night.
Even still, the mailbox got hit a couple of times, and the post got very loose in the soil. It's generally not good to have the mailbox next to the driveway before you normally turn into the driveway, as it makes it more vulnerable to being clipped. When our fence was being installed, the guys were nice enough to dig us a new hole on the left side of the driveway, fill it with concrete, and move our mailbox over there. We were elated. This for sure would solve our mailbox problems.
That mailbox hadn't been up for very long when it took another hit. However, since the post had been made stable with concrete, the mailbox took the brunt of the hit. The poor little reflective number sign swung off to the side, and the door would no longer shut. Then, to add insult to injury, the mailbox got hit AGAIN the very next night. Now there was a dent in the side. We started scratching our heads, trying to figure out how to solve this problem. We didn't want to have to replace the mailbox every few months. And we didn't want to leave a busted up looking mailbox out there, like our neighbor did. I guess he got tired of replacing his mailbox.
It's amazing what you begin to notice when you look to solve your problems. We started taking note of other people's mailboxes, and we noticed that many country-dwellers had these rubber-maid plastic mailboxes that were a single piece. The mailbox and pole were one unit that was drilled into a post, preferably a post set in concrete. We decided this was the way to go. Off we go to Lowes one day when we were in town. We came back with a black one.
Well, it's been a couple of weeks, and we've been meaning to getting around to replacing the mailbox, but life has a funny way of getting in the way of plans. Then, last night, the mailbox got hit once again, only this time, the mailbox was ripped almost completely off the post. It was time to change the mailbox.
Today, it was 90 degrees out and 56% humidity. We go outside, open up the box, and guess what? There are no instructions, no address numbers, and most importantly, no hardware to put the darn mailbox together. Since we didn't get the mailbox from the closest Home Depot, we had to figure out what to do. We needed a couple of things from Home Depot anyway, so we figured we'd get a new mailbox from there, and I would return the defective one from the Lowes when I went to work later this week. The nearest Home Depot for us is more like Ghetto Depot - everything is over-priced, the customer service is less than stellar, and the selection is skimpy. But that's one of the sacrifices you make when you move to the country. So it's no suprise that when we get there, they have no black mailboxes and we have to get a green one that is similar in style. But no matter, we wanted it for the parts anyway.
Fortunately, the installation went smoothly, thanks to the accumulation of tools we have bought over the recent months. In addition, we installed a plaque of an eagle on the front dormer. We found it at an antique shop down in Old Town Petersburg yesterday. Stefan will post some pics soon.
Old Town was a blast. Our friends Dave and Sam invited us to go to the Petersburg Farmer's Market, and we then spent the morning going around to all the antique shops and other boutiques in the area. It's not that far away, and it's kind of like an undiscovered Carytown. We had a great time, topping off the morning with a delicious homemade meal at a local restaurant. It's definitely a place we plan to visit again often. Thanks again Sam and Dave! It's these discoveries that make us feel more at home where we are.
And then, suppose you drive twenty minutes to the closest hardware store, pick up a new mailbox, and drive home, only to discover the new mailbox is missing installation instructions, address numbers and the hardware to put it together.
This is a recipe for frustration. Thankfully, we are used to that by now, so mishaps along the way are almost expected.
Stefan and I replaced our mailbox for the second time today. When we first moved in, we had an oversized mailbox sitting precariously on a wooden pole on the right side of the driveway (assume the house is on the right side of the road). It was balanced on its perch by some duct tape and bunji cords. We eventually replaced the mailbox, once we got tired of having to rebalance it on the post, and it was quite an ordeal because we didn't have all the right tools, so we improvised. Stefan drilled that thing into the post with some massive screws. We were proud of our handiwork. The mailbox even had a fancy reflective number thingy-majig on the top of the mailbox. We even put some reflectors on both sides of the post so it would be seen more easily at night.
Even still, the mailbox got hit a couple of times, and the post got very loose in the soil. It's generally not good to have the mailbox next to the driveway before you normally turn into the driveway, as it makes it more vulnerable to being clipped. When our fence was being installed, the guys were nice enough to dig us a new hole on the left side of the driveway, fill it with concrete, and move our mailbox over there. We were elated. This for sure would solve our mailbox problems.
That mailbox hadn't been up for very long when it took another hit. However, since the post had been made stable with concrete, the mailbox took the brunt of the hit. The poor little reflective number sign swung off to the side, and the door would no longer shut. Then, to add insult to injury, the mailbox got hit AGAIN the very next night. Now there was a dent in the side. We started scratching our heads, trying to figure out how to solve this problem. We didn't want to have to replace the mailbox every few months. And we didn't want to leave a busted up looking mailbox out there, like our neighbor did. I guess he got tired of replacing his mailbox.
It's amazing what you begin to notice when you look to solve your problems. We started taking note of other people's mailboxes, and we noticed that many country-dwellers had these rubber-maid plastic mailboxes that were a single piece. The mailbox and pole were one unit that was drilled into a post, preferably a post set in concrete. We decided this was the way to go. Off we go to Lowes one day when we were in town. We came back with a black one.
Well, it's been a couple of weeks, and we've been meaning to getting around to replacing the mailbox, but life has a funny way of getting in the way of plans. Then, last night, the mailbox got hit once again, only this time, the mailbox was ripped almost completely off the post. It was time to change the mailbox.
Today, it was 90 degrees out and 56% humidity. We go outside, open up the box, and guess what? There are no instructions, no address numbers, and most importantly, no hardware to put the darn mailbox together. Since we didn't get the mailbox from the closest Home Depot, we had to figure out what to do. We needed a couple of things from Home Depot anyway, so we figured we'd get a new mailbox from there, and I would return the defective one from the Lowes when I went to work later this week. The nearest Home Depot for us is more like Ghetto Depot - everything is over-priced, the customer service is less than stellar, and the selection is skimpy. But that's one of the sacrifices you make when you move to the country. So it's no suprise that when we get there, they have no black mailboxes and we have to get a green one that is similar in style. But no matter, we wanted it for the parts anyway.
Fortunately, the installation went smoothly, thanks to the accumulation of tools we have bought over the recent months. In addition, we installed a plaque of an eagle on the front dormer. We found it at an antique shop down in Old Town Petersburg yesterday. Stefan will post some pics soon.
Old Town was a blast. Our friends Dave and Sam invited us to go to the Petersburg Farmer's Market, and we then spent the morning going around to all the antique shops and other boutiques in the area. It's not that far away, and it's kind of like an undiscovered Carytown. We had a great time, topping off the morning with a delicious homemade meal at a local restaurant. It's definitely a place we plan to visit again often. Thanks again Sam and Dave! It's these discoveries that make us feel more at home where we are.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Bullriding and Beer
Stefan and I went to the Greg Potter Slate River Ranch Classic Professional Bull Rider's Enterprise Tour last night at the Richmond Coliseum. Our seats were row D - not quite close enough to be in danger if a bull came charging over the side, but definitely close enough!
For the next 2 1/2 hours, we were treated to world-class entertainment. We had a rip-roaring good time! Neither of us have been to see Bullriders in all their live glory, but those cowboys are really something. So were the bulls. They didn't have any of that I-don't-care-about-putting-on-a-good-show attitude that we experienced at the Soul 2 Soul tour. And we were relieved about that. The bulls did what they did - throw rider after rider and stun the crowd with their sheer massiveness. I wish we'd brought some A-1 sauce! While the bulls were shorter than the horses (there were 3 riders equipped with lassos who helped "guide" wayward bulls back towards the chamber after throwing its rider), their legs were extremely stocky and heavy-set, with thick bodies and necks. Beautiful creatures when viewed from the safety and distance of Row D.
The crowd was definitely a different flavor than the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw crowd. Although both shows attract cowboy/cowgirl type people, the folks at the PBR were the serious kind of cowboy - the ones who long to wrangle up their own good fun with their 4-legged creatures. The man sitting next to us was sporting a cast - a reward from being thrown by his bronco. We felt strangely at home with this crowd. We didn't feel out of place, and we enthusiastically threw ourselves into the excitement going on around us, although the excitement was more low-key than the concert the week before.
We got there about 40 minutes before the show started, found our seats, and then went to grab a bite to eat and a beer. What's a rodeo without a beer? The coliseum floor had been converted from a concrete slab to a dirt ring and a bunch of holding pens at one end. Each pen was just large enough for a bull to stand, while the rider climbed over the pen and onto the bull's back. The program came with a list of the 40 riders who were competing that night, along with the name of the bull they were to be riding. We figured the show would be quite long, but it went by surprisingly quick. Each rider is trying to stay on the bull for 8 seconds. If he stays on that long, then he qualifies for the next round, where the top ten riders compete for the number 1 spot. The goal of the second round is to stay on for 8 seconds, and the bulls selected for the second round were picked for their throwing ability. Even out of 40 contestents, less than 10 were able to hold on for 8 seconds, so a couple of guys were randomly selected to fill up the 10 spots in the championship round.
I don't know how to explain how much fun we had, but we left that evening, with hoarse voices from all the shouting and yee-haws we did. Stefan will be posting a bunch of pictures, that will probably be exciting only to us. It really is something to see in person. Something gets lost in the translation of the photos. All in all, although we were tired and didn't feel all that enthusiastic about driving all the way up to Richmond for the show, we were really glad we went, and it will go down in our memory book as one of those times to look back fondly on. It's really great to try something new and different every now and then - we still surprise ourselves with what we find we really enjoy. And guaranteed, the next time the rodeo comes to town, we will be there!
For the next 2 1/2 hours, we were treated to world-class entertainment. We had a rip-roaring good time! Neither of us have been to see Bullriders in all their live glory, but those cowboys are really something. So were the bulls. They didn't have any of that I-don't-care-about-putting-on-a-good-show attitude that we experienced at the Soul 2 Soul tour. And we were relieved about that. The bulls did what they did - throw rider after rider and stun the crowd with their sheer massiveness. I wish we'd brought some A-1 sauce! While the bulls were shorter than the horses (there were 3 riders equipped with lassos who helped "guide" wayward bulls back towards the chamber after throwing its rider), their legs were extremely stocky and heavy-set, with thick bodies and necks. Beautiful creatures when viewed from the safety and distance of Row D.
The crowd was definitely a different flavor than the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw crowd. Although both shows attract cowboy/cowgirl type people, the folks at the PBR were the serious kind of cowboy - the ones who long to wrangle up their own good fun with their 4-legged creatures. The man sitting next to us was sporting a cast - a reward from being thrown by his bronco. We felt strangely at home with this crowd. We didn't feel out of place, and we enthusiastically threw ourselves into the excitement going on around us, although the excitement was more low-key than the concert the week before.
We got there about 40 minutes before the show started, found our seats, and then went to grab a bite to eat and a beer. What's a rodeo without a beer? The coliseum floor had been converted from a concrete slab to a dirt ring and a bunch of holding pens at one end. Each pen was just large enough for a bull to stand, while the rider climbed over the pen and onto the bull's back. The program came with a list of the 40 riders who were competing that night, along with the name of the bull they were to be riding. We figured the show would be quite long, but it went by surprisingly quick. Each rider is trying to stay on the bull for 8 seconds. If he stays on that long, then he qualifies for the next round, where the top ten riders compete for the number 1 spot. The goal of the second round is to stay on for 8 seconds, and the bulls selected for the second round were picked for their throwing ability. Even out of 40 contestents, less than 10 were able to hold on for 8 seconds, so a couple of guys were randomly selected to fill up the 10 spots in the championship round.
I don't know how to explain how much fun we had, but we left that evening, with hoarse voices from all the shouting and yee-haws we did. Stefan will be posting a bunch of pictures, that will probably be exciting only to us. It really is something to see in person. Something gets lost in the translation of the photos. All in all, although we were tired and didn't feel all that enthusiastic about driving all the way up to Richmond for the show, we were really glad we went, and it will go down in our memory book as one of those times to look back fondly on. It's really great to try something new and different every now and then - we still surprise ourselves with what we find we really enjoy. And guaranteed, the next time the rodeo comes to town, we will be there!
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
Happy Anniversary Stacie and Joe!
Hey guys ... just wanted to wish you the best on your 1st anniversary! We've posted your wedding photos in a gallery on the site! Happy 1st with a ridiculous amount more to follow! :)
A Visit To The Southland
I got some great news on Sunday. My Uncle Mike and Aunt Helen are coming down the Fourth of July week for a visit! I haven't seen them since my birthday last year when Holly and I took a train up to Haverhill, MA, my hometown.
Mike was my first and only real mentor and a great many of the brave things I've done in my life can be directly traced back to lessons I learned from him. The less than brave things are mine alone. Helen has been like a second Mom to me, promoting my books and person like I was some kind of superstar.
My uncle is legally blind and for them to take such a trip is a big event for them. Loading up the seeing-eye dog and all the related necessary items, not to mention the expense is no small task, and I'm honored that they'd make this trip just to see us. That's love, folks.
--
Dave and Sam joined us Saturday for a long day of cooking out, pool-romping and marguarita slurping! I think my favorite part was the pool float battles. We've got some pictures. Hopefully some of them will be on the "less embarrassing" side and we'll get that up in a gallery soon.
--
Holly and I finally picked up a new mailbox on Sunday. It's one of those large one-piece plastic guys. We've seen more and more of them appearing on the country roads and they either don't get hit as often by their design, or they're able to withstand the damage of being struck by a passing vehicle. Hopefully that'll work out for us.
Now the tricky part will be installing it on the roadside without me becoming a hood ornament. That ought to be a fun day. Holly promises to stand guard and watch for traffic. The pictures from this one should be a hoot! :)
Mike was my first and only real mentor and a great many of the brave things I've done in my life can be directly traced back to lessons I learned from him. The less than brave things are mine alone. Helen has been like a second Mom to me, promoting my books and person like I was some kind of superstar.
My uncle is legally blind and for them to take such a trip is a big event for them. Loading up the seeing-eye dog and all the related necessary items, not to mention the expense is no small task, and I'm honored that they'd make this trip just to see us. That's love, folks.
--
Dave and Sam joined us Saturday for a long day of cooking out, pool-romping and marguarita slurping! I think my favorite part was the pool float battles. We've got some pictures. Hopefully some of them will be on the "less embarrassing" side and we'll get that up in a gallery soon.
--
Holly and I finally picked up a new mailbox on Sunday. It's one of those large one-piece plastic guys. We've seen more and more of them appearing on the country roads and they either don't get hit as often by their design, or they're able to withstand the damage of being struck by a passing vehicle. Hopefully that'll work out for us.
Now the tricky part will be installing it on the roadside without me becoming a hood ornament. That ought to be a fun day. Holly promises to stand guard and watch for traffic. The pictures from this one should be a hoot! :)
Horsefly Update
Just a little note here ...
Over the weekend ... with FOUR of us in the pool, my little buddy dropped by, landed on my head (no one else's mind you ... just mine) and then flew off. Holly took that to mean he was scared off by the sheer numbers of us. I believe it was a message. He can get me anytime, anywhere. Regardless of how many people I have to protect me!
Horsefly - 3
Stefan - 0
Over the weekend ... with FOUR of us in the pool, my little buddy dropped by, landed on my head (no one else's mind you ... just mine) and then flew off. Holly took that to mean he was scared off by the sheer numbers of us. I believe it was a message. He can get me anytime, anywhere. Regardless of how many people I have to protect me!
Horsefly - 3
Stefan - 0
Friday, June 09, 2006
Horsin' Around
Between Monday and Thursday about two metric tons of stuff fell into our pool. It had actually been Monday since Holly and I had been in the pool and we were missing it. The weather, you see has been inconsiderately cool (this only applies if you have a pool ... if you don't, the weather's been beautiful!) and has kept the idea of an evening swim at bay.
So despite the floating and sunken debris, we decided it was time to get in the pool. Yes, it was a little cold and I found it hard to relax because as we played we stumbled across gob after gob of bird poop! Now I don't see why it has to be this way. We treat the birds in our yard quite well. Even buy them the good brand of bird food. I don't think it's very reciprocal of them to drop the used food into the pool like that!
Anyway, while I was in the pool something large landed on my head. I know what you're thinking ... but no, not bird poop, rather a family-size horse fly. I could tell it was a bit on the abnormal side when I saw Holly's eyes get real wide and I took that to mean, "Dunk boy! Dunk!" I dunked.
So between the radioactively enhanced horsefly and the bird poop gobs, enough was enough and we got out. While we were drying off I felt a very acute pain in my leg. I looked down to see that same horsefly attaching himself to my leg. A sound escaped my mouth. I believe it was, "aaaahhhh" or "eeeeeeee" or some other extremely masculine vocalization and I swatted at the fly. It flew off. Rivulets of blood ran down my leg and I just looked at it stupidly for a moment. It was a fly that bit me right? Not some kind of forest mammal or something?
This was the second time I've been bested by an insect in front of my wife. There was that time a little over a year ago when I was loading the dishwasher and was stung in the ass by Waspthra, the two-inch monstrosity that had taken time out of it's busy Tokyo squashing activities to fly all the way to Richmond and plant one right on my right cheek. (I believe my vocalization that time was "iiiiiiiiiiiiiiyyyyy".)
So we're having company tomorrow and we'll all be using the pool, so I got a jump start on vacuuming it out. Finished that up and was skimming the surface as I walked around inside the pool when in the wetlands a tree branch crashed to the ground. "Huh," I wondered. "What caused that." A mere moment later the horsefly, ready for his second helping of Stefan came buzzing by my head. I swatted at it with the skimmer net, missing the fly and effectively throwing everything I'd cleaned back into the water. I immediately ducked 98% of my body under the water! The fly came in for another pass and I submerged. When I came back up, about half-way across the pool, he was waiting for me. He landed on my head and I twisted and thrashed and got about 1 1/4 gallons of water up nose.
This time when I righted myself I was indignant! I stood my ground and watched the sky carefully. Yup, I stared all around me, looking left, looking right, up down. Didn't look at my arm. Why the hell would I look at my arm? Then I felt him. I looked at my arm. He looked at me. He opened his mouth ... and I'd swear the little bastard laughed at me. Another thrashing about like a penguin in a polar bear's jaws. This time I scrambled out of the pool like demons were after me (maybe they were!), slipped on my flip flops and ran into the house.
From under the sink I grabbed my Hot Shot Insect Killer and went back outside. I got into the pool, Hot Shot in one hand, pool skimmer in the other. I didn't have to wait long ... he zoomed in, dying a fly by (ha!), buzzing the tower as the fighter pilots call it. I shot and missed him by a country mile! I was a sitting duck! Quickly, I flipped over the inflatable float, lifting only a tiny bit so I could watch for my attacker. Armed with a skimmer in one hand, insecticide in the other and a sun-bathing float on my head, I sized up my options. Regretfully, there were no options. I looked like a domestic Rambo sneaking up on an enemy that knew exactly where I was. When I looked up and inside the float and saw the three baby spiders deciding the shortest path to my head, I conceded.
I slunk out of the pool (as quickly as one can while slinking) and came inside. I now realize the tree branch falling must have been the fly's show of force. All part of his Shock and Awe campaign.
But this battle's far from over!
Horsefly - 2
Stefan - 0
So despite the floating and sunken debris, we decided it was time to get in the pool. Yes, it was a little cold and I found it hard to relax because as we played we stumbled across gob after gob of bird poop! Now I don't see why it has to be this way. We treat the birds in our yard quite well. Even buy them the good brand of bird food. I don't think it's very reciprocal of them to drop the used food into the pool like that!
Anyway, while I was in the pool something large landed on my head. I know what you're thinking ... but no, not bird poop, rather a family-size horse fly. I could tell it was a bit on the abnormal side when I saw Holly's eyes get real wide and I took that to mean, "Dunk boy! Dunk!" I dunked.
So between the radioactively enhanced horsefly and the bird poop gobs, enough was enough and we got out. While we were drying off I felt a very acute pain in my leg. I looked down to see that same horsefly attaching himself to my leg. A sound escaped my mouth. I believe it was, "aaaahhhh" or "eeeeeeee" or some other extremely masculine vocalization and I swatted at the fly. It flew off. Rivulets of blood ran down my leg and I just looked at it stupidly for a moment. It was a fly that bit me right? Not some kind of forest mammal or something?
This was the second time I've been bested by an insect in front of my wife. There was that time a little over a year ago when I was loading the dishwasher and was stung in the ass by Waspthra, the two-inch monstrosity that had taken time out of it's busy Tokyo squashing activities to fly all the way to Richmond and plant one right on my right cheek. (I believe my vocalization that time was "iiiiiiiiiiiiiiyyyyy".)
So we're having company tomorrow and we'll all be using the pool, so I got a jump start on vacuuming it out. Finished that up and was skimming the surface as I walked around inside the pool when in the wetlands a tree branch crashed to the ground. "Huh," I wondered. "What caused that." A mere moment later the horsefly, ready for his second helping of Stefan came buzzing by my head. I swatted at it with the skimmer net, missing the fly and effectively throwing everything I'd cleaned back into the water. I immediately ducked 98% of my body under the water! The fly came in for another pass and I submerged. When I came back up, about half-way across the pool, he was waiting for me. He landed on my head and I twisted and thrashed and got about 1 1/4 gallons of water up nose.
This time when I righted myself I was indignant! I stood my ground and watched the sky carefully. Yup, I stared all around me, looking left, looking right, up down. Didn't look at my arm. Why the hell would I look at my arm? Then I felt him. I looked at my arm. He looked at me. He opened his mouth ... and I'd swear the little bastard laughed at me. Another thrashing about like a penguin in a polar bear's jaws. This time I scrambled out of the pool like demons were after me (maybe they were!), slipped on my flip flops and ran into the house.
From under the sink I grabbed my Hot Shot Insect Killer and went back outside. I got into the pool, Hot Shot in one hand, pool skimmer in the other. I didn't have to wait long ... he zoomed in, dying a fly by (ha!), buzzing the tower as the fighter pilots call it. I shot and missed him by a country mile! I was a sitting duck! Quickly, I flipped over the inflatable float, lifting only a tiny bit so I could watch for my attacker. Armed with a skimmer in one hand, insecticide in the other and a sun-bathing float on my head, I sized up my options. Regretfully, there were no options. I looked like a domestic Rambo sneaking up on an enemy that knew exactly where I was. When I looked up and inside the float and saw the three baby spiders deciding the shortest path to my head, I conceded.
I slunk out of the pool (as quickly as one can while slinking) and came inside. I now realize the tree branch falling must have been the fly's show of force. All part of his Shock and Awe campaign.
But this battle's far from over!
Horsefly - 2
Stefan - 0
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Concert Review - Tim McGraw and Faith Hill - Soul 2 Soul Tour
Stefan and I went to the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw Soul 2 Soul concert last night at the Richmond Coliseum. We had floor seat tickets, which, if we had acted swiftly, would have cost us $85 each. But since we hemmed and hawed about going, we ended up paying a substantial amount more to secure tickets. The last time we saw a concert there, we sat in the section where they handed out oxygen masks because the air is a little thin up in the nosebleed section. When the drunk girl sitting behind started dancing, we braced ourselves for what could have been a long, hard fall. After that, we vowed never again would we sit up there.
I would really like to give a rave review about this concert. I suppose I could, but I would not be doing any fans justice.
The stage was rather unique. It sat squarely in the center of the floor, and then had cat-walks extending in the north, south, east, and west directions. The idea was to allow the majority of concert-goers a good view, and I believe this could have been achieved, had Faith Hill and Tim McGraw actually used the cat-walks. As it turned out, they spent most of their time on the center stage with their backs to us.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
Greek Festivals and Guitars - Reprise
What a great weekend! The hot weather broke some and was beautiful for the Greek Festival in Richmond. I agree with Holly--it sucked that they said they were only accepting credit or debit cards. There was really nowhere to get cash so we missed out on certain things ... most notably the baklava sundaes! :( I still had a great time and was really glad we decided to go.
Ah the guitar. I named her Lady. She's absolutely beautiful. I never felt such a connection with a musical instrument before (and I've handled quite a few in my day ... starting with a trumpet, ugh). From the moment I picked her up at the store, just feeling her weight by the neck she just felt right. I sat on a stool in the store, brought her up and strummed a G chord (one of the few I can remember from years ago) and was blown away. The pure weight of her and the weight of her sound was inspiring. I've never seen a metal-bodied acoustic guitar before. I just fell in love. Poor Holly, the true musician of the two of us, understood the moment of "contact" and just couldn't turn her back on it. Thank God my birthday's coming up ... it made a great excuse for the gift. :)
I of course had to return the favor, so today we drove up to Richmond and visited Sam Ash, where Holly tried out about 100 guitars and finally settled on her dream machine, an American Fender Telecaster. What a sound that baby makes! She was like a little kid when we got home, all the while she ate dinner, her eyes kept drifting to the amp box and guitar case. She barely finished eating (I think there was still some potato chip crumbs on her lips) when she busted everything open and set it up. We spent the next two hours playing our wedding song, Living In A Moment by Ty Herndon. Okay, maybe not playing ... more like slaughtering. But you know what? It was starting to sound okay by the end of it. We've pretty much memorized the chords and now it's a matter of timing. I can't wait to sit down with her again tomorrow night and continue the massacre. ;)
What else? Hmmm ... oh did I mention that our new mailbox--our first home project together was replacing the ridiculous monstrosity left by the previous owners--was hit not once but TWICE? The things all smashed up! I'll see if I can get some pictures of it before I have to take it down. It's off to Home Depot again tomorrow to replace it. I tell ya, this is going to get old quick! Maybe I'll carve the next one out of granite. ;)
I'm off to put up a new gallery of some random stuff including the guitars. We wanted to get some shots of the Greek Festival but it felt kind of awkward just snapping shots of people crowded around booths. Maybe next year. :)
Ah the guitar. I named her Lady. She's absolutely beautiful. I never felt such a connection with a musical instrument before (and I've handled quite a few in my day ... starting with a trumpet, ugh). From the moment I picked her up at the store, just feeling her weight by the neck she just felt right. I sat on a stool in the store, brought her up and strummed a G chord (one of the few I can remember from years ago) and was blown away. The pure weight of her and the weight of her sound was inspiring. I've never seen a metal-bodied acoustic guitar before. I just fell in love. Poor Holly, the true musician of the two of us, understood the moment of "contact" and just couldn't turn her back on it. Thank God my birthday's coming up ... it made a great excuse for the gift. :)
I of course had to return the favor, so today we drove up to Richmond and visited Sam Ash, where Holly tried out about 100 guitars and finally settled on her dream machine, an American Fender Telecaster. What a sound that baby makes! She was like a little kid when we got home, all the while she ate dinner, her eyes kept drifting to the amp box and guitar case. She barely finished eating (I think there was still some potato chip crumbs on her lips) when she busted everything open and set it up. We spent the next two hours playing our wedding song, Living In A Moment by Ty Herndon. Okay, maybe not playing ... more like slaughtering. But you know what? It was starting to sound okay by the end of it. We've pretty much memorized the chords and now it's a matter of timing. I can't wait to sit down with her again tomorrow night and continue the massacre. ;)
What else? Hmmm ... oh did I mention that our new mailbox--our first home project together was replacing the ridiculous monstrosity left by the previous owners--was hit not once but TWICE? The things all smashed up! I'll see if I can get some pictures of it before I have to take it down. It's off to Home Depot again tomorrow to replace it. I tell ya, this is going to get old quick! Maybe I'll carve the next one out of granite. ;)
I'm off to put up a new gallery of some random stuff including the guitars. We wanted to get some shots of the Greek Festival but it felt kind of awkward just snapping shots of people crowded around booths. Maybe next year. :)
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Comments Missing - Technical Error
Hey guys,
We're aware that some of these blog postings have no option to enter comments. We apologize for that, some weird setting that got overlooked. Starting with this one, comments should now be available.
Thanks!
We're aware that some of these blog postings have no option to enter comments. We apologize for that, some weird setting that got overlooked. Starting with this one, comments should now be available.
Thanks!
Greek Festivals and Guitars
We went to the Greek Festival today. I'd never gone to it before, and it was nice to get out and walk around, do some people watching and eat some Greek food. They had a website, which I visited to get directions, and it said that they take credit cards and check cards, but no cash. So we didn't bring any cash. And of course, most of the booths didn't take credit cards or check cards, only cash. That bothered me a bit - I felt gypped.
There were arts and crafts - the good stuff, not the stuff an eight grader made, but some nice stuff by some talented artists. We ended up coming home with 2 paintings. One for the kitchen and one for the office. Maybe we shouldn't have bought them, and just saved our money instead, but it's nice to splurge once in a while. I've gone to many a festival where I don't buy anything at all, so it was pleasant to buck the old tradition.
Then we went to Cary Town with the intent of walking down to the chocolate shop. We didn't make it past the guitar shop, though. We stopped in to have a look around, and wouldn't you know it, we tried out some guitars. Stefan found a guitar he promptly fell in love with. He'll be putting up pictures soon. It's an acoustic, with f-holes like a violin, but the body is solid metal. I've never seen anything like it. It plays very soft, and then with a pick, very bright. The resonance is absolutely brilliant. Sometimes you know when you've come across a one-of-a-kind, so I got it for him as an early birthday present. As some of you know, I had bought him a guitar off Amazon for Christmas. The price was marked down a couple of hundred dollars, so I was fairly certain I was getting a really good guitar for the price. The reviews gave it five stars as well. I ordered it in blue, but when it arrived, it was black. When we strung it, the strings broke before they could even be tuned. That really soured me, as money was tight and I had already pushed it by getting him the guitar. We re-strung it a few weeks ago, but it won't stay tuned. You can strum it once, and then it goes all out of whack. It's a real piece of crap.
When we got this guitar home, Stefan started playing right away. Just for kicks, I brought out the old guitar and strummed it a little bit. It sounded awful compared to the new guitar. Music is one of those personal things; I know better than to pick out an instrument for somebody else. I'm kicking myself for buying that other piece of crap, but oh well. I tried playing the new guitar, but the strings are too heavy for me. It works well for him, though. I did see a Telecaster that I am thinking about....maybe next year? In the meantime, we're thinking of doing some guitar and fiddle duets!!
There were arts and crafts - the good stuff, not the stuff an eight grader made, but some nice stuff by some talented artists. We ended up coming home with 2 paintings. One for the kitchen and one for the office. Maybe we shouldn't have bought them, and just saved our money instead, but it's nice to splurge once in a while. I've gone to many a festival where I don't buy anything at all, so it was pleasant to buck the old tradition.
Then we went to Cary Town with the intent of walking down to the chocolate shop. We didn't make it past the guitar shop, though. We stopped in to have a look around, and wouldn't you know it, we tried out some guitars. Stefan found a guitar he promptly fell in love with. He'll be putting up pictures soon. It's an acoustic, with f-holes like a violin, but the body is solid metal. I've never seen anything like it. It plays very soft, and then with a pick, very bright. The resonance is absolutely brilliant. Sometimes you know when you've come across a one-of-a-kind, so I got it for him as an early birthday present. As some of you know, I had bought him a guitar off Amazon for Christmas. The price was marked down a couple of hundred dollars, so I was fairly certain I was getting a really good guitar for the price. The reviews gave it five stars as well. I ordered it in blue, but when it arrived, it was black. When we strung it, the strings broke before they could even be tuned. That really soured me, as money was tight and I had already pushed it by getting him the guitar. We re-strung it a few weeks ago, but it won't stay tuned. You can strum it once, and then it goes all out of whack. It's a real piece of crap.
When we got this guitar home, Stefan started playing right away. Just for kicks, I brought out the old guitar and strummed it a little bit. It sounded awful compared to the new guitar. Music is one of those personal things; I know better than to pick out an instrument for somebody else. I'm kicking myself for buying that other piece of crap, but oh well. I tried playing the new guitar, but the strings are too heavy for me. It works well for him, though. I did see a Telecaster that I am thinking about....maybe next year? In the meantime, we're thinking of doing some guitar and fiddle duets!!
Friday, June 02, 2006
My First Post
Okay, this is a little bit of a test to see if this blog thingie is working for me!
Everyday, I drive half an hour through the country to get to work. I could take the highway, but why bother when I have such nice scenery surrounding me on the back roads?
Everyday, I pass by a horse farm. The main barn is quite close to the road, and they have 4 horses - a black stallion, a white horse, a bay horse, and what appears to be a red roan.
Last week, I noticed some construction going on. They were building a HUGE addition to the barn! The new addition is now complete, and it's 2 stories tall, full of windows, and is about twice the size of the other barn. I also saw a 5th horse there - a dark chesnut/liver horse, so it looks like they're expanding their family.
The funniest thing about this scene is that the people who live there and take such pride in their horses, well, they live in a trailer that looks like it's been there since 1970. You'd have thought they would upgrade their living quarters before giving more to their horses.
But I say kudos to them! It's all about knowing where your priorities are. This is one of the reasons we moved to the country - it fit better with our long-term priorities. Sometimes the drive is cumbersome, and sometimes it gets lonely out here, but then I look at what we're able to accomplish - our cost of living is lower, we can do what we want with our property, we can have as many dogs as we want, build a pool, plant some trees, and see the stars at night and realize our dream of our retirement home on the beach isn't so far off because of the choices we have made. Some folks think we're crazy, but the fact is, we merely aligned ourselves with our priorities.
Everyday, I drive half an hour through the country to get to work. I could take the highway, but why bother when I have such nice scenery surrounding me on the back roads?
Everyday, I pass by a horse farm. The main barn is quite close to the road, and they have 4 horses - a black stallion, a white horse, a bay horse, and what appears to be a red roan.
Last week, I noticed some construction going on. They were building a HUGE addition to the barn! The new addition is now complete, and it's 2 stories tall, full of windows, and is about twice the size of the other barn. I also saw a 5th horse there - a dark chesnut/liver horse, so it looks like they're expanding their family.
The funniest thing about this scene is that the people who live there and take such pride in their horses, well, they live in a trailer that looks like it's been there since 1970. You'd have thought they would upgrade their living quarters before giving more to their horses.
But I say kudos to them! It's all about knowing where your priorities are. This is one of the reasons we moved to the country - it fit better with our long-term priorities. Sometimes the drive is cumbersome, and sometimes it gets lonely out here, but then I look at what we're able to accomplish - our cost of living is lower, we can do what we want with our property, we can have as many dogs as we want, build a pool, plant some trees, and see the stars at night and realize our dream of our retirement home on the beach isn't so far off because of the choices we have made. Some folks think we're crazy, but the fact is, we merely aligned ourselves with our priorities.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Cubby
A new member of the family has arrived. Welcome Cubby, our pure-white Siberian Husky puppy. He has one blue eye and one hazel. (I have blue eyes, Holly has hazel ... not sure what I'm saying about that, but I asure everyone, the dog has natural canine parents. :)) Pictures of the pup are available in the Gallery section of the site.
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