packing.
Moving.
Neighbors
First signs of making it home: a rug.
Garage is starting to look a bit full.
But an ovenmitt?
Bethie's foxes.
And empty boxes.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wow. Time flies
Packing.
Taking the cats out of the boxes...
packing.
Moving.
House
Neighbors
Unpacking with supervision. Baby was NOT happy about the move.
First signs of making it home: a rug.
A little bit at a time.
Garage is starting to look a bit full.
The hammer I get...
But an ovenmitt?
Bethie's foxes.
And empty boxes.
packing.
Moving.
Neighbors
First signs of making it home: a rug.
Garage is starting to look a bit full.
But an ovenmitt?
Bethie's foxes.
And empty boxes.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
We found a place!
We have found a place in Lancaster, that meets all specified requirements. We realized much too late we didn't specify "close". It's a drive of an hour and a half back to the valley where we all work. Oh well. It's ours and we can move.
And I'm still packing.
And I'm still packing.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Part of us is moved
Chaos reigns. *gah*
Because my housemates and I are having a problem finding a place that holds all the stuff, the creatures, the stuff, the equipment and tools, the stuff for which we have no name, at a price we can all manage, I packed my stuff up and moved it all to my mother's. Her house is paid for.
My brother Roger came down the day we moved the storage bin and helped put all the pieces together. That's after showing up early in the morning and helping pack up about 140 bankers boxes of my stuff. (I'm painfully organized and have my stuff in same-sized boxes so they stack neatly.) (why, yes, I do have a neat desk, why do you ask?)
Unpacking bin, chasing the cats off the boxes and out of the bin, disassembling bin, frightening the cats, packing the trailer, chasing cats off the boxes, tying things down, checking one last time for cats, tossing two cats out of the van, and closing up shop, took a good chunk out of one day.
Following morning, checked again for cats, and headed out. A four hour drive later, we arrive at my mother's. Then came the fun part of unpacking all the... wait, those boxes slid off and landed on the trailer floor upside down. Ohshit, what broke? Nothing? Just paper and books and clothes, just a mess. Ok, I don't have to kill anybody.
I gave strict instructions on how all this was to be packed and... guys, you're not listening to me as I'm yelling at you. *sigh* They're all working to unpack and get set up. I guess I have to go help.
Storage bin set up.
Boxes transferred to the back patio pending packing into the bin.
My mother and Beth sat on the patio and supervised. That's Beth, wielding the wrench.
And then Mom winced when she realized I wasn't going to immediately move everything into that bin. Mom, it's a big steel container that is no longer shaded by trees. Until I get insulation on it, anything I put in there is going to melt.
Everything offloaded. Everything set up. Everybody headed out for home. Job well done.
This isn't one of my better writings, but I be tired.
Because my housemates and I are having a problem finding a place that holds all the stuff, the creatures, the stuff, the equipment and tools, the stuff for which we have no name, at a price we can all manage, I packed my stuff up and moved it all to my mother's. Her house is paid for.
My brother Roger came down the day we moved the storage bin and helped put all the pieces together. That's after showing up early in the morning and helping pack up about 140 bankers boxes of my stuff. (I'm painfully organized and have my stuff in same-sized boxes so they stack neatly.) (why, yes, I do have a neat desk, why do you ask?)
Unpacking bin, chasing the cats off the boxes and out of the bin, disassembling bin, frightening the cats, packing the trailer, chasing cats off the boxes, tying things down, checking one last time for cats, tossing two cats out of the van, and closing up shop, took a good chunk out of one day.
I gave strict instructions on how all this was to be packed and... guys, you're not listening to me as I'm yelling at you. *sigh* They're all working to unpack and get set up. I guess I have to go help.
Boxes transferred to the back patio pending packing into the bin.
My mother and Beth sat on the patio and supervised. That's Beth, wielding the wrench.
And then Mom winced when she realized I wasn't going to immediately move everything into that bin. Mom, it's a big steel container that is no longer shaded by trees. Until I get insulation on it, anything I put in there is going to melt.
This isn't one of my better writings, but I be tired.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
We're moving
The first week in March, my housemates and I were notified the owner of our property had sold it, and we had 30 days to pack and move.
Yeah right. Like that was going to happen. It finally dawned on all concerned, including the new owner, that packing up a three bedroom, huge office, really old-fashioned kitchen, a double-car garage full of stuff, a 50foot by 15 foot workshop full of parts and equipment for an electrician and handyman, a 50foot by 35 foot storage building full of several hundred video arcade games and assorted parts, a two-stall and tack room barn full of the overflow from everything else, as well as numerous sheds, pieces of equipment, lumber, and miscellaneous bits and pieces scattered over the 3.5 acre lot, while hunting down a new place, or places, to hold all this, while also holding down jobs enough to pay for it all, was not something that could be done in 30 days.
So they gave us 60 more. We have until the end of June to do all of the above. Fun times.
Since I'm the one with the most part-time of jobs, and the best packer, I'm packing. And packing, and packing, and... do we really need to keep all five of these? Yes? Ok.... and packing and packing.
Yeah right. Like that was going to happen. It finally dawned on all concerned, including the new owner, that packing up a three bedroom, huge office, really old-fashioned kitchen, a double-car garage full of stuff, a 50foot by 15 foot workshop full of parts and equipment for an electrician and handyman, a 50foot by 35 foot storage building full of several hundred video arcade games and assorted parts, a two-stall and tack room barn full of the overflow from everything else, as well as numerous sheds, pieces of equipment, lumber, and miscellaneous bits and pieces scattered over the 3.5 acre lot, while hunting down a new place, or places, to hold all this, while also holding down jobs enough to pay for it all, was not something that could be done in 30 days.
So they gave us 60 more. We have until the end of June to do all of the above. Fun times.
Since I'm the one with the most part-time of jobs, and the best packer, I'm packing. And packing, and packing, and... do we really need to keep all five of these? Yes? Ok.... and packing and packing.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Idaho Falls? I'm in Idaho Falls?
Well, I was. Taking a break from insanity, I went to Idaho Falls to visit a friend. Eighteen hours by bus, leaving late in the afternoon, arriving at noon. When I got out at the 2am stop, I realized something. There was snow on the ground. Yes, intellectually I knew there was snow in Utah and Idaho in the winter. But I'm from Los Angeles. We keep our snow sensibly on the mountains, and go visit it from time to time. We don't live in it.
Snow there was. I got some great pictures of snowy mountains and houses and reflections in the window of the passengers on the bus. My camera was of the type that sucked its lens back in when turned off, so having an attachable filter was a non-starter. But the pictures remind me of the trip. They don't have to be shared. [*sniff*]
So for a week, I stayed in Idaho Falls, where the temperature never got above freezing. The house was warm, the company marvelous, the futon couch comfy if difficult to get out of. I was introduced by my host and his two sons to anime. I enjoyed it very much. It snowed several times, but nothing substantial. Enough to make snow angels. I could ask no more.
My host, Bob, took me on a tour of the highlights of Idaho Falls, which took all of an afternoon. I did get some pictures of the Falls of Idaho Falls, which were lovely all frozen over. I also meandered around the neighborhood taking pictures. [Here]I found when I got home that I had managed to gather a collection of prints of various creatures meandering thru the snow. Find them here.
On Sunday, Bob and I took off fairly early for Yellowstone. It was quite likely Yellowstone was closed, but since I was in the area, I wanted to go as far as I could. So off we went, thru the Grand Tetons and the snow. I took five thousand pictures, well, ok, 4,990, of pine trees covered in snow, gorgeous vistas as we topped a hill, trees covered in snow, and lakes and rivers and mountains and trees covered in snow.
Jackson, WY, was fun. Touristy, but fun. We did in fact make it all the way to the south entrance of Yellowstone, which was closed. But driving the roads of the Grand Tetons National Forest with nobody else on the road was a delight. I got a great example of how to drive on ice and snow without having to flinch about running into someone else. It was a tad slippery.
We took the long 'way round, coming in to Jackson. We took 26 to 89, then north thru Jackson. When we came home, the GPS said the shorter route was over Teton Pass. I don't do really well on twisty mountain roads, but I was fine with Teton Pass. I couldn't see over the side because the snow had been piled at least 8 feet high. Part way up the pass, Bob flipped a switch, saying 4-wheel drive is for wusses, but in this case it might be wise. I gave him a startled look and asked, have we been driving without it all along? Yup, said Bob. Swell.
We did stop sliding around so much, which was good in the face of oncoming traffic. There were a couple of places where the two lanes, one each way, got very... shall we say, friendly. Fortunately when we went around the "friendlier" corners, there was no oncoming traffic. One of the niftier sights along the pass was the crowd of skiers along the side of the road. The vans were letting them off there, and were going to pick the skiers at the bottom of the hill.
The following day, my day of departure, the trees were covered in frost crystals. None of the pictures I took captured the incredibleness of trees seemingly covered in diamond crystals. Ohmy it was gorgeous.
At noon, I got back on the bus, headed south. My days of frost and snow were over.
Snow there was. I got some great pictures of snowy mountains and houses and reflections in the window of the passengers on the bus. My camera was of the type that sucked its lens back in when turned off, so having an attachable filter was a non-starter. But the pictures remind me of the trip. They don't have to be shared. [*sniff*]
So for a week, I stayed in Idaho Falls, where the temperature never got above freezing. The house was warm, the company marvelous, the futon couch comfy if difficult to get out of. I was introduced by my host and his two sons to anime. I enjoyed it very much. It snowed several times, but nothing substantial. Enough to make snow angels. I could ask no more.
My host, Bob, took me on a tour of the highlights of Idaho Falls, which took all of an afternoon. I did get some pictures of the Falls of Idaho Falls, which were lovely all frozen over. I also meandered around the neighborhood taking pictures. [Here]I found when I got home that I had managed to gather a collection of prints of various creatures meandering thru the snow. Find them here.
On Sunday, Bob and I took off fairly early for Yellowstone. It was quite likely Yellowstone was closed, but since I was in the area, I wanted to go as far as I could. So off we went, thru the Grand Tetons and the snow. I took five thousand pictures, well, ok, 4,990, of pine trees covered in snow, gorgeous vistas as we topped a hill, trees covered in snow, and lakes and rivers and mountains and trees covered in snow.
Jackson, WY, was fun. Touristy, but fun. We did in fact make it all the way to the south entrance of Yellowstone, which was closed. But driving the roads of the Grand Tetons National Forest with nobody else on the road was a delight. I got a great example of how to drive on ice and snow without having to flinch about running into someone else. It was a tad slippery.
We took the long 'way round, coming in to Jackson. We took 26 to 89, then north thru Jackson. When we came home, the GPS said the shorter route was over Teton Pass. I don't do really well on twisty mountain roads, but I was fine with Teton Pass. I couldn't see over the side because the snow had been piled at least 8 feet high. Part way up the pass, Bob flipped a switch, saying 4-wheel drive is for wusses, but in this case it might be wise. I gave him a startled look and asked, have we been driving without it all along? Yup, said Bob. Swell.
We did stop sliding around so much, which was good in the face of oncoming traffic. There were a couple of places where the two lanes, one each way, got very... shall we say, friendly. Fortunately when we went around the "friendlier" corners, there was no oncoming traffic. One of the niftier sights along the pass was the crowd of skiers along the side of the road. The vans were letting them off there, and were going to pick the skiers at the bottom of the hill.
The following day, my day of departure, the trees were covered in frost crystals. None of the pictures I took captured the incredibleness of trees seemingly covered in diamond crystals. Ohmy it was gorgeous.
At noon, I got back on the bus, headed south. My days of frost and snow were over.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
A Christmas to remember!
It was a season to remember! Beth ran into a high school chum, married, with three kids, in a bit of a bind. Housing was an issue, as the chum was running into problems with his insurance company with regards to payment for his house that burned down. It looked like the family would be spending Christmas in a homeless shelter. So Beth invited them to stay in the "big room" out back. Kenny moved in with his girlfriend, Beth, Tom and I all cleaned the place up, and the family moved in the first part of December.
All went well, for about three days.
December turned out to be the second wettest since recordkeeping started in 1887. This compounded a problem we didn't know we had. Apparently the septic tank had never been drained in all its fifty year existence. We found this out when it backed up into the only shower in the house. And stayed.
The landlord sent out the plumber, as always. The plumber got the rooter machine out, to once again remove the tree roots from the main drain. Except... it didn't help. That's when we found the entire system was full, and with all the rain, wasn't draining. And no one knew where the clean-out was. The landlord called the previous owner trying to locate it. No luck. Meanwhile, we have no shower. For three weeks, we have no shower. There are now six adults and three teens living on the property, with no shower. I thank all the Powers that it was December and not July. Several of us made repeated visits to friends and family to use their showers.
A plumber with the proper tools was located just after Christmas and the two-weeks-without-shower mark had been passed. There was much fidding around with equipment and on December 31. The septic tank was unburied late in the afternoon, thus rendering our front yard more of a wasteland than usual. No one was going to come out on January 1, or on Sunday, January 2.
And then, one of the people living out back died two days before Christmas of complications of alcoholism. In the back yard. The family thereof descended upon us, with weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. And raiding of the refrigerator, eating anay and everybody's food without replacing it, using every pot and pan we collectively had and not washing the dishes. Charming. Not. Washing the dishes was taken as permission to get them dirty again, and eating what little still remained in the fridge.
Meanwhile, this poor family of five is living in a house with no shower, only one toilet still working, the back bathroom sink only having cold water, the kitchen sink piled with dishes, with all these crazy people mourning the dead guy while simultaneously deciding they should be cheerful "for the kids" for Christmas. The family had continued negotiations with their insurance company, and a few lawyers, and it looked like they were going to be able to move into their new place in January.
January 3 dawned bright and clear. The family in the "big room" moved out so fast you could hear the thunderclap of the air closing in behind them. I'm sure they wished they had stayed in a homeless shelter. It would have been less crazy. Mid-day, the septic tank company showed up, drained what they said was probably 50 years' worth of stuff, and we had the shower and second toilet back in operation. The first toilet kept working, and we found out it had been an add-on, and so drained into a different septic tank. The family of the dead guy decamped, including the remaining resident out back, leaving the three of us alone in the house once more.
Happy New Year!
All went well, for about three days.
December turned out to be the second wettest since recordkeeping started in 1887. This compounded a problem we didn't know we had. Apparently the septic tank had never been drained in all its fifty year existence. We found this out when it backed up into the only shower in the house. And stayed.
The landlord sent out the plumber, as always. The plumber got the rooter machine out, to once again remove the tree roots from the main drain. Except... it didn't help. That's when we found the entire system was full, and with all the rain, wasn't draining. And no one knew where the clean-out was. The landlord called the previous owner trying to locate it. No luck. Meanwhile, we have no shower. For three weeks, we have no shower. There are now six adults and three teens living on the property, with no shower. I thank all the Powers that it was December and not July. Several of us made repeated visits to friends and family to use their showers.
A plumber with the proper tools was located just after Christmas and the two-weeks-without-shower mark had been passed. There was much fidding around with equipment and on December 31. The septic tank was unburied late in the afternoon, thus rendering our front yard more of a wasteland than usual. No one was going to come out on January 1, or on Sunday, January 2.
And then, one of the people living out back died two days before Christmas of complications of alcoholism. In the back yard. The family thereof descended upon us, with weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. And raiding of the refrigerator, eating anay and everybody's food without replacing it, using every pot and pan we collectively had and not washing the dishes. Charming. Not. Washing the dishes was taken as permission to get them dirty again, and eating what little still remained in the fridge.
Meanwhile, this poor family of five is living in a house with no shower, only one toilet still working, the back bathroom sink only having cold water, the kitchen sink piled with dishes, with all these crazy people mourning the dead guy while simultaneously deciding they should be cheerful "for the kids" for Christmas. The family had continued negotiations with their insurance company, and a few lawyers, and it looked like they were going to be able to move into their new place in January.
January 3 dawned bright and clear. The family in the "big room" moved out so fast you could hear the thunderclap of the air closing in behind them. I'm sure they wished they had stayed in a homeless shelter. It would have been less crazy. Mid-day, the septic tank company showed up, drained what they said was probably 50 years' worth of stuff, and we had the shower and second toilet back in operation. The first toilet kept working, and we found out it had been an add-on, and so drained into a different septic tank. The family of the dead guy decamped, including the remaining resident out back, leaving the three of us alone in the house once more.
Happy New Year!
Monday, November 08, 2010
My brother died Saturday.
I came home from a conference on Saturday. Shortly thereafter, I got a phone call from my mother, giving me the news that my younger brother died in his sleep Saturday. Not the kind of news one wants to hear. He was 46, and having some medical issues, but not anything that we expected to do this.
I wrote the news on my facebook page. Support flowed from all over. It was very comforting. My sister-in-law posted, in part:
one can't help but be reminded of how fragile and precious life is. Tomorrows are not guaranteed.
My reply:
Tomorrows are guaranteed, but not necessarily in this life. The bodies we are given are strong beyond belief, fragile beyond imagining. We learn, we teach, we grow. And each in our own turn, we leave. The time we have here is precious. Cherish what you learn. Give freely what you can teach. Hold dear in your heart what you love.
Rest in peace, Jeff.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Take Down...and pack up
Click any image for larger version
Once the balloon is on the ground, it's time to fold it up and take it home.
The Bembel Has Landed
Starting to deflate,
basket being
tipped over.
Lots of neighbors getting into the act!
And down it comes!
Balloon neatly down, and the pilot crawls out.
Squeezing the life...I mean air,
out of the balloon so it can be packed.
Squeezed and bundled up.
Everyone gets
into the act.
Walter, on the left
in the "Balloon Team" vest,
gets into the act.
This is why, immediately after, I went out to buy a real camera. I couldn't download the pics from my itty bitty cellphone camera fast enough to clear space for the next pic in this sequence. It was the utterly adorable collection of neighborhood kids, holding up the balloon and stuffing it into its travel sack. And then leaping enthusiastically on the sack to force out the last of the air.
Next day, another chance to catch
a balloon getting stuffed.
Balloon starting to deflate. 
Deflating and coming down.
You can see the handle of the bembel (wine pitcher),
about to get flattened under the rest of the balloon.
Balloon down, basket tipped over.
Balloon folded up, ready to be stuffed in its travel sack.
The travel sack is far sturdier than the fabric of the balloon, so the sack is dragged to the next segment of the balloon to be stuffed. It's a rather energetic process.
If you're not careful, you'll get stuffed into the sack along with the balloon.
Why yes, I almost got stuffed in with the balloon. About all the sympathy you'll get is the team telling you when the balloon will be unpacked next. If you're "packed" on the last day of flight, they cheerily tell you that the next time will be back in Germany.
Balloon all stuffed in its sack,
ready to be laced up and sat on. Sat on?
Yup. Sat on.
Squeezing the last of the air out.
Getting ready to hoist the basket into the truck.
Having a few strong backs around helps the process!
Basket's in the truck! Yay!
Securing the basket, securing the team flag!
Return to top ^^
Hot Air Balloons: The Chase
Click any image for larger version
<< FIRST IN SERIES NEXT IN SERIES >>
Part 2 of a Day in the Life of a Hot Air Balloon.
Once the balloon is in the air, we have to go fetch it and bring it back. This is called The Chase.
The Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta is ten days of... more than ten days of balloon related insanity. Slap a "Balloon Chase Team" sign on your car, and you can go anywhere. Orchards, fields, back yards, private land, the Indian reservations. The Native Americans get rather testy about you landing on their land, so we try not to. But other than that...
Our balloon is a bembel, or wine pitcher.
Getting ready to head out.
Waiting for the
moment to leave,
and watching the
balloons stream by.
The launch park looks empty as we head out.
There's joy in watching
the balloons go by.
Balloons headed north,
we're headed south
out of the park.
Why yes, that's a skunk.
Our bembel is to the left,
as we chase balloons.
Crossing over the Rio Grande, still chasing all those balloons.
At the start of the chase,
we're all going in the same direction.
Who's chasing whom?
Since all the balloons are heading in pretty much the
same direction, we all end up chasing each other.
We're getting closer. The bembel's next to the top of the pole.
Airabella came down early.
The balloon's on one side of the road,
the basket on the other.
My first view of Darth was between trees, as the balloon came down in someone's yard. Rather disconcerting.
Wind whipping the flag as we
chase after the bembel.
The bembel isn't a dot any more.
Coming in low,
looking for
a place to land
"Where's The Bembel?"
Hiding behind the house
It looks like
a landing!
Now we need to
find a road.
No, no landing.
The area was
full of corrals.
There's this thing in the sky...
And people just keep on
driving like it's the
most ordinary thing.
Well, during the Balloon
Fiesta, it is.
We caught up with it...
until the wind went one way
and the road another
It's a lovely thing, our bembel.
There she is, waiting on the hill top.
Safely down, ready to deflate, pack and carry home.
Return to top ^^ Next in series >>
The Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta is ten days of... more than ten days of balloon related insanity. Slap a "Balloon Chase Team" sign on your car, and you can go anywhere. Orchards, fields, back yards, private land, the Indian reservations. The Native Americans get rather testy about you landing on their land, so we try not to. But other than that...
The Chase
Our balloon is a bembel, or wine pitcher.
Getting ready to head out.
Waiting for the
moment to leave,
and watching the
balloons stream by.
The launch park looks empty as we head out.
There's joy in watching
the balloons go by.
Balloons headed north,
we're headed south
out of the park.
Why yes, that's a skunk.
Our bembel is to the left,
as we chase balloons.
Crossing over the Rio Grande, still chasing all those balloons.
At the start of the chase,
we're all going in the same direction.
Who's chasing whom?
Since all the balloons are heading in pretty much the
same direction, we all end up chasing each other.
We're getting closer. The bembel's next to the top of the pole.
Airabella came down early.
The balloon's on one side of the road,
the basket on the other.
My first view of Darth was between trees, as the balloon came down in someone's yard. Rather disconcerting.
Wind whipping the flag as we
chase after the bembel.
The bembel isn't a dot any more.
Coming in low,
looking for
a place to land
"Where's The Bembel?"
Hiding behind the house
It looks like
a landing!
Now we need to
find a road.
No, no landing.
The area was
full of corrals.
There's this thing in the sky...
And people just keep on
driving like it's the
most ordinary thing.
Well, during the Balloon
Fiesta, it is.
We caught up with it...
until the wind went one way
and the road another
It's a lovely thing, our bembel.
There she is, waiting on the hill top.
Safely down, ready to deflate, pack and carry home.
Return to top ^^ Next in series >>
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