Ahem ...

Let it be known throughout the land:

I   H.A.T.E.  P.A.C.K.I.N.G. and M.O.V.I.N.G.

That is all.

Carry on.

(I certainly am!)

From the same magazine article today ...

Chyron - looks like it should be Greek, mythological, fantastical... something.  In a way, it is.  It's the scrolled information that runs along the bottom of a television screen ad infinitum on any 24/7 cable news channel.  Was used to describe the running commentaries we all carry in our heads, not always to our best interests.

Lambent - softly bright or radiant.  Was used to describe the movements of figure skating, as a metaphor for how we imagine things versus how they actually are.

What can I say?  Words seek me out!

I took this from smcmullan, but several flisteds are playing.

Rules: Post 3 things you've done that you believe nobody else on your F-list has done.  Indulge in remorse if someone calls you out on a listed item.  (Some versions of the rules state that I must find something else if anyone can claim to have done one of my 3.)

1. Faced down the barrel of a Soviet weapon at the Berlin Wall.

2. Was sold in marriage by my father for some camels (# greater than 3) and, possibly, a goat (but I was never sure.)

3. Was locked in the vault containing the Persian crown jewels, including the Peacock Throne (the new one, of course,
also called the Sun Throne.)

What special things have you done?

I'm in love with words

Always have been.  Once upon a time, I kept a dictionary in my bathroom, considering it the quintessential bathroom reading material.  Yes, I learned to read the dictionary.  I'd go to look up a word, and all these other interesting ones would show up along the way, and they'd lead to looking up still more so I could understand the definition of a former word ... So, yeah.  I read dictionaries.

Periodically, I hear/see/come across really nice words.  Words that just tickle my fancy at the time, usually independent of the context in which they are presented.  Here are some of the most recent ones:

repine
palisade
savage (death)
undulate (isn't this a wonderfully sounding word?)
shroud

My favorite word has always been the word meander.  In script, it ... well, meanders.    Your mouth meanders to shape the word in speech.  This is beyond mere onomatopoeia.  (hmmm.  What's the visual equivalent?)

Stay tuned.  Words happen every day, and sometimes I take notice.  I'll post.

compliments of my mother-in-law

Mom sent me the following in email.  Since the "original" has no attribution, I can't share it, either.

AN INTERESTING HISTORY LESSON
              Railroad tracks.

              This is rather fascinating.  Be sure to read the final paragraph.  Your understanding of it  will depend on the earlier part of the content.

              The U.S. standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number.

              Why was that gauge used?  Because that's the way they built them in England, and English expatriates built the US railroads.

              Why did the English build them like that?  Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.

              Why did 'they' use that gauge then?

              Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons, which used that wheel spacing.

              Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing?  Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that's the spacing of the wheel ruts.

              So who built those old rutted roads?  Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (and England) for their legions.  The roads have been used ever since.

              And the ruts in the roads?  Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels.

              Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.  Therefore the United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot.

              Bureaucracies live forever. So the next time you are handed a Specification/ Procedure/Process and wonder 'What horse's backside came up with it?', you may be exactly right.  Imperial Roman army chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the rear ends of two war horses. (Two horses' backsides.) 

Now, the twist to the story: 

               When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad,there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah.

              The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site.   The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains, and the SRBs had to fit through that tunnel.

              The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses' behinds.

              So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a horse's butt.

              And you thought being a horse's butt wasn't important? Ancient horses'  butts control almost everything.

              ....And CURRENT horses' butts are controlling everything else....Any questions?
             
~Author Unknown

... warm house.

Sunday, our friends and family met The Tree House, and The Tree House met our friends and family -- and the extraneous new neighbor or two.

I very much wanted to have an open house as a house warming for our new house.  Husband wanted to "get it over with" if we were going to do it.  And I have learned from experience that, if I wait until we're "settled," we will never have a house warming.  So, we took over a bare minimum of tables and chairs, threw a couple of futons over un-upholstered love seats I inherited from my mother (original upholstery was far too smokey for civilization) and brought in party trays.  Add guests and tours of the house, and you have instant house warming.

Not all of our dearest and nearest could join us, but sufficient number of good people did attend, and the house was indeed warmed to the idea of fun, laughter, love and friendship.  It has been declared a party house; now it merely has to live up to its reputation.

Thanks to all who helped with the birthing of this dream.

We invited our new neighbors, who are really great people.  One has already offered to help with our landscaping (I very much admire what he did with his own -- they live across the road), and the other has already offered to help us get our land native and into conservatorship.  He and his wife actually live outside the subdivision, on the road that parallels our main road.  They bought 4 of the subdivision lots, however, and just finalized the paperwork last week to turn it into land preserve, so it will never be developed.  Their parcels constitute the main portion of the wetlands (we have the rest), so there is state aid available, and he is going to introduce us to the right people.  His wife works at the feline refuge where we got the sisters, Trick and Treat.  So we already know we're compatible folk.

We also invited the artisans who made our house so special.  Erik, of course, was the man of the hour.  As I recall, he gave his
card out to 4 different folks, so I hope I've brought his some business!  Ron Dean, who did the beautiful work on the entryway slate tiles, also came in for some accolades.  Erik described to Ron what we're thinking of doing for a surround for the fireplace in the family room, and Ron is going to give some thought to how he would incorporate the same slate tile into the surround, and give me a quote.

The youngest of my father's sisters-in-law, and the one cousin on my father's side who was closest to my parents and kept in touch with me,  both came.  They did a lot of catching-up, although I could only join in spurts.  Still, it was nice to have some real blood relations there to represent all the ones spread across the country.

Now, the move starts in earnest.

DHD friends:  I've not forgotten you.  I owe more stories about the construction.  I have a list of things I've not discussed, and I'll be posting those over the next weeks.  Orlo -- I will have time to check in on your blog, now, so I'll see you there.

... as sweet by any other?

We never named our current house.  It never occurred to Husband, and my life was changing too much for me to come up with any.  I've never named a house, before.  Cars, yes.  All of them, in fact.  Except for the Taurus -- no name ever came to me.    But I've always wanted to name my house and use it in my return address. 

Well, we finally named the current house, after all.  You may have noticed it in my Location entry -- "Havoc House."  Sometimes, when a name fits, it simply blinds you - or beans you one.  (My poor hips knows where every box is ... until it gets moved, that is.)

But we (read: I) had no such luck with the new house.  I wanted something that would reflect how this was my child, the creative output of my own effort.  Something to reflect the peace and security that home represents to me.  Something to suggest a place of sharing, of music, of friends.  Something that would include our commitment to the nature around us and to the land.  Something poetic.  Husband wanted something of one word -- preferably one syllable.  Nothing romantic.  Nothing saccharine.  Tough requirements.

Research was begun.  Myths were explored.  Gaelic translators were used.  Lists of beds&breakfasts were consulted.

I suggested, in turn, "Haven," Havenhurst," "Tor Haven," "Conservatory," "Havenwood,"   Husband suggested "Nest."

Despair was felt.

So, there I was at the house sometime last week.  Husband had asked me to decide where in the kitchen I wanted to put the wall phone.  I sat at the hutch (at the southeast corner of the kitchen) and surveyed my turf as I ate some leftover pizza, which we had brought for the Jensen brothers on their last day on site.  The phone location just jumped out at me -- next to the door to the laundry/mud room.  Free to wander (and wonder) my eyes drifted in the direction of the view outside the screened porch.  There was a hefty breeze (tornadoes in Iowa) and I could hear the trees chatter despite the closed windows and the running HVAC (which, granted, is quiet.)

Tree House.

I rubbed my head to soften the pain of the clue-by-four and considered this from all angles.  Reflects the nature around us.  Yes.  Is a kind of retreat where one can feel safe and protected.  Yes.  Can also be a place to gather buddies.  Yes.  Is a pun, which is always a plus for Husband.  Yes.  Short (although two syllables) and easy to remember.  Yes. Fits both of us.  Yes.  In other words, perfect.

Thus are houses christened.

Side note:  Husband threatened to paint a sign on a plank of wood stating "no gurlz." for the front door.  I told him he should feel free, as I would place a "no boyz" sign on the bathroom door.    So far, no one has posted anything.

Well, in a way ...

If you've made sure there's both paper towels and toilet paper (in each bathroom), tissue in the kitchen, some microwaveable lunches in the freezer, milk and juice in the fridge, and if Husband keeps forgetting to pick up the jacket he hung up in his clothes closet, then can't you say you've started the moving?

We thought we were going to sign the mortgage papers today, so we planned on stopping at the grocery store just next door.  It turned out that we were visiting the bank to answer any questions we had.  We didn't.  It was a nice conversation, but not what we had planned on.  The actual papers won't be ready until next week.  However, we did lock in the rate at yesterday's level, so we're set to go.

So, in the store, it was just as easy to buy a few extra of things we were buying to stick in the fridge at the new house.  And of course, we were simply going to drop them off and head home to do more packing.

But you can't just set food in a new fridge still dripping with packing material and the miscellaneous dirt streak here and there, now can you?  So, two hours later, we had finally done enough to feel we had started, and we headed home -- the old home.

So, we are declaring the move officially underway.

End date?  Stay tuned ...

... can be good things.

Who knew?

Of course, a good deadline requires at minimum two characteristics:

1. It must be realistic
2. Failure must not really matter

Our moving deadline appears to fit the bill.

Erik is leaving on June 9 for his annual fishing trip.  Nothing gets between Erik and his fishing trip.  I think it's the only real relaxation he gets all year.  So, everything is either finished before he goes, or it doesn't happen until after he returns.  We are so close to finished, now, that Erik would really like to close the contract before he leaves.

This isn't impossible, and it may not even be difficult.  For one thing, he has a draw ready, and it brings us up to the brink of the construction loan amount.  So, we stop once the money is gone, regardless.  Secondly, most of what is left really can't be done right now, anyway.  Things like the final grading, finishing off the driveway ... all of that can't really happen until the ground dries out a bit, which means not until July at the earliest.

The C of A (which is the county's agreement that the mechanicals are all done to code) is already done; the last inspection was last week.  The C of O (which is the zoning board's agreement that we built what was approved, and we can now actually live there) was applied for on Monday.  Once Erik gets that, he can attach it to his final draw, and the bank and I roll the loan over into the mortgage at whatever rate is the current rate at that time.

So, if all goes well, we'll start moving on Jun 9, or a little before.  When we finish, of course, is still undefined.

If all does not go well?  *shrug*  We wait until Erik gets back.  But, we'll be able to start packing and moving boxes into the house, in any case.

I'm getting excited.

and small pleasures

Watching a hawk surf the thermals.