first?

Joel, as you know from my posts, I spent many inspiring hours this summer splitting oak with sledgehammer and wedge. (Actually two wedges. One to split the wood and one to extract the first when it becomes lodged.)

Splitting oak is a transcendent experience. It gets the heart rate up and makes you feel truly alive by bringing you dangerously close to coronary collapse.

True, there is the ever-present risk of a misplaced strike, but hey, the body has wondrous recuperative powers. That purple spot beneath my large toenail has almost faded!

So do not seek to avoid this chore. Embrace it as a way to reduce stress and get in touch with your inner lumberjack.

And for a modest price, I can be hired.

Great post Joel, with the temperatures finally dipping down, you have me looking forward to our first fire of the year. We will be using the wood we cut when we felled a dead tree on our property. Well not a big tree and it was so dead that it all but shattered when it fell but a little chainsaw was involved and a few ropes to direct the larger pieces. I am sure the husband and I provided a great deal of comic relief to the neighbourhood that day.

"You gone eat that, Lady?" In order to insure success, you must point to the item in question and "accidentally" touch it with a fingertip. Works every time.

Your reference to stealing from the meek is reminiscent of a George Carlin bit (possibly on the Toledo Window Box album):

Who cares if the meek inherit the earth? We'll just take it right back from them. What are they going to do about it? They're a bunch of meeks!

We have two fireplaces in our house, but when we have tried to use the one in the living room, the house begins filling with smoke coming from the fireplace downstairs in the rec room. It appears we need the services of a chimney sweep, since capping the downstairs chimney (we never use that fireplace) didn't help. We contemplated installing a gas log, but since we're looking to move next year figured that was one expense we didn't need. And Joel, since we are probably going to be taking down a couple of oaks soon (friend wife being paranoid since the tree fell on our neighbor's house last year and all but cut it in two) there may be more opportunity for you to "scavenge" some more wood to split! ;-)

The "accidental" touch with fingertip technique also can be useful in acquiring one's companion's beer.

At least, until said companion has had enough beer to become either unperturbed by the pollution or dangerously belligerent.

I finally succame (succumbed? help me out writer types) to my wife's chattering teeth and turned on the furnace last night. We have a decorative fireplace in our living room. It had been unused in the seven years the previous owner had it. Every time I try it, I forget to open the flue and fill the house with smoke. I have some firelogs like you get from the convenience store that are several years old.

I do have one story about foraging for firewood in my college days, but you kinda had to be there.

repost - be prepared (meaning have hanky handy):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxI_Ca-14t4

In Aranjuez with your love
Aranjuez, a place of dreams and love
Where a rumour of crystal fountains in the garden
Seems to whisper to the roses

Aranjuez, today the dry leaves without colour
Which are swept by the wind
Are memories of the romance you and I once started together
And that we've forgotten without reason

Maybe that love is hidden in one sunset
In the breeze or in the flower
Waiting for your return

Aranjuez, today the dry leaves without colour
Which are swept by the wind
Are memories of the romance you and I once started together
And that we've forgotten without reason

In Aranjuez, my love
You and I

Who knew a Flugelhorn could make me weepy.

omni, you just reminded me that the movie "Mr. Holland's Opus" always makes me cry.

I have no nostalgia for wood as a heat source. It is hard enough having to get up and go to school without having frost on the inside of the window. The oldest child gets the bed farthest away from the barrel stove after all.

I do love cutting, splitting, and stacking wood to burn as if I relied on it.

When it comes to free stuff, nothing beats office supplies. My dad was career Air Force and I was fifteen years old before I discovered there were pens not labeled "SKILCRAFT - US GOVERNMENT".

And on foraging. When I was sixteen years old, a friend of mine and I spent a month at a Debate Camp held at a large university in the Midwest. Because of an obscenely misleading brochure we discovered that the food tickets we purchased expired a full week before the Camp was over.

Now, normal, sensibl, teenagers would have simply called home to request additional funds for food. But we were stupid. So we spent the next five days foraging for sustenance.

Now this didn't involve rummaging through dumpsters or anything, but rather putting on our stylish, and increasingly baggy, three-piece suits and crashing various conferences held on campus. You would be amazed just how much food you can fit in the interior pockets of a three-piece suit.

Of course, we survived, but to this day I get all queasy at the smell of Swedish meatballs.

...are expensive, or at least can be cured with penicillin.

You would be right to consider any risk to your hands even if you didn't earn your living by typing. I would submit that stealing firewood from the Viking next door would endanger more than your hands. (Is it time for the annual cannibalism article?)

= = = = =

Before she was recommended here, I had never read anything by Annie Dillard. So thank you, Joel, for that. Here's what she wrote about splitting firewood--she's setting up a metaphor for the creative process, but whenever I think of firewood, I think of this passage, now.

*****************
(From (i)The Writing Life(/i), pp 42-43)

Thoreau said that his firewood warmed him twice--because he labored to cut his own. Mine froze me twice, for the same reason...

...At first, in the good old days, I did not know how to split wood. I set a chunk of alder on the chopping block and harassed it, at enormous exertion, into tiny wedges that flew all over the sandflat and lost themselves. What I did was less like splitting wood than chipping flints. After a few whacks my alder chunk still stood serene and unmoved, its base untouched, its tip a thorn. And then I actually tried to turn the sorry thing over and balance it on its wee head while I tried to chop its feet off before it fell over. God save us.
All this was a very warm process. I removed my down jacket, my wool hat and scarf. Alas,those early wood-splitting days, when I truly warmed myself, didn't last long. I lost the knack.
I did not know it at the time, but during those first weeks when I attacked my wood every morning, I was collecting a crowd--or what passed on the island for a crowd. At the sound of my ax, Doe and Bob--real islanders, proper, wood-splitting islanders--paused in their activities and mustered, unseen, across the sandflat, under the firs. They were watching me (oh, the idleness) try to split wood. It must have been a largely silent comedy. Later, when they confessed, and I railed at them, Bob said innocently that the single remark he had ever permitted himself had been, "I love to watch Annie split wood."
One night, while all this had been going on, I had a dream in which I was given to understand, by the powers that be, how to split wood. You aim, said the dream--of course!--at the chopping block. It is true. You aim at the chopping block, not at the wood; then you split the wood, instead of chipping it. You cannot do the job cleanly unless you treat the wood as the transparent means to an end, by aiming past it. But then, alas, you easily split your day's wood in a few minutes, in the freezing cold, without working up any heat; then you utterly forfeit your only chance of getting warm.
******

RDP from the last boodle: //"Information Technology Project Management"//

Flee, RD! I've done run around that barn myself more than once.

It's kind of like skunks and living in Ohio. You know you have skunks under your front porch, or you think you don't, but either way you do. Likewise, you may know you can't manage IT projects or think you can, but . . . (This is the universal *you*)

When living in a resort town, there's no need to mess with new furniture stores. Incredible what the consignment and thrift stores have.

Also very, very nice to have the neighbor's tangerine tree hanging over the fence. And that proliferating basil in the back yard? I need to make my own pesto.

dbG - this "Program Management" push is part of an ongoing struggle between my employer and I regarding my career. I want to remain in touch with the data, because when analyzing data (such as I am now) I can periodically put the computer to sleep thus allowing me to do stuff like boodle. As a PM I would spend far more time in meetings.

The horror. The horror.

Brownback endorsed McCain, for those of you keeping scorecards:

Brownback: "While I respect all of the Republicans running for president this year, John McCain is the only candidate who can rally the Reagan coalition of conservatives, Independents, and conservative Democrats needed to defeat Hillary Clinton or any other Democrat in the general election next year. John McCain has spent a lifetime standing up for human rights around the world, including a consistent 24-year pro-life record of protecting the rights of the unborn. John McCain alone has the courage, leadership and character to lead our party to victory in 2008 while keeping faith with our most cherished values -- life, faith and family."

Heating with wood has it's pleasures and displeasures as with anything. First you ALWAYS have to keep an eye out for any free wood and hopefully the tree falls on something else so cutting is easier. Nothing will dull a chain saw more then putting it into the ground. Second,you have to hope the tree falls close enough to where you can get a truck to load it up, either by wheelbarrel or right into the truck.

I used to love splitting wood by hand, great exercise and the final results heats your home. Some pieces just refuse to be split, you will hack at them,wedge them and beat on then till you can't anymore. I have 2 piles of wood at my house. One for buring inside in the wood stove and another pile outside for pieces that won't fit into the stove that I burn in my fire pit.

But with the season being roughly between October-AprilI need about 2 and a half cords of hardwood to make it through those months.I think I am pretty much set with what I have this year. I have 2 cords split and stacked in my wood shed and another cord still in log form waiting to be split with my log splitter. I bought a log splitter from the previous owner of my home and it will split whatever you can roll in there. Some of the pieces are so big you can get 16 split pieces from one single log.

It is a lot of fun, but also a lot of work too. But it sure beats paying high prices for oil,gas or electric heat.

I really think you should loan Angus the unsplit wood. Just don't be telling him it is a loan, though. Once it has been split, you can ask for it back. Now if he is so bold as to purchase split wood, trade him for your haul. Just don't let him catch you.

Or you could find your handy dandy rental store and rent a splitter. That way you wouldn't have to worry about finger damage, just the odd hand or arm.

Every fall, during the years we lived in Northern Virginia, you could tell when fall arrived. The trucks with West Virginia licence plates would roll into our neighborhood, and one of the men would come to the door, hat in hand, and say those magic words:

"Season ook fird?"

THEN we could have a fire.

kbert, they make a neat gizmo called a "wood grennade". It's a steel wedge that looks like, you guessed it, a grennade. You slam the pointy into the end of a log, and hit the big end with a sledghammer. Kaboom, the log splits. With any luck, the grennade doesn't split your shin.

Joel, I know exactly how you feel about the joys of splitting one's own oak, and then relaxing in the glow of the fire. I feel exactly the same way every time I drop to my hands and knees by the hearth of our family fireplace in the TV room, reach my arm in, turn on the natural gas valve, and then flick the switch that lights that puppy up. Ahhhh. (I shoulda spent the extra bucks and got the remote control model.)

(Actually, this fireplace replaces what we used to have, which was one of those Carolina fireboxes. Every year we'd order a dump truck of pre-cut slab wood. The driver would back it up near our back patio (cutting nice, deep ruts in the side yard if the ground happened to be wet that day, as it always seemed to be; I think they enjoy delivering firewood in the rain. Must be romantic for them, or something.) Then over the course of two or three days of yelling and screaming at the kids, I manage to get them (and me) to stack up the wood properly on our patio, and cover the huge stacks with tarps. Then over the course of the winter, I'd have the pleasure of yelling at the kids --and most often doing it myself--of bringing in smaller amounts of firewood to stack) by the hearth. And then having to load up the Carolina box every now and then. But boy, did that thing put out some heat. Yikes. Had a nice chimney fire once when the pitch caught fire. That was a fun afternoon.)

Yes, I miss it--the yelling at the kids, the patching of the ruts, using the cattle prod and bullwhip, manipulating the guilt, the arguments over whose turn it was, the Solomonic judgement and decisionm-making over which child to capriciously assign the chore to before finally doing it myself, coming home after two or three days and finding the house ice-cold, and having to coax wet firewood into flame. Yes, those were the good old days.

When I think of wood splitting I remeber my maternal Grandmother. When I was small, we used to spend a few days every summer at her house. Our instructions were to stay out of Grandma and Grandpas hair, out of the garden without grandma or auntie and for pete's sake leave the peas alone. (We were allowed to pick raspberries, goosberries, and carrots, really everything else, just not the peas. Pulling pea vines too roughly as kids do, kills the vine)

They had a wood stove till well into the 70's, and when I think of splitting wood,I see Grandma out back, hatchet in hand, and then helping her carry it to the wood box. I would watch her filling the stove carefully to bake bread or cook dinner. There is a part of me that dreams of having a real honest to goodness wood stove, not for heating, but a cook stove.

I am not nearly so anxious to split actual wood to use for cooking as I am for the dream.

Don't ask me about crying at the movies. I don't go without tissues.

This makes me think of the Robert Frost poem, "Two Tramps in Mud Time", which describes the pleasures of splitting one's own wood, despite the presence of lumber tramps, in pursuit of a more philosophical point. The descriptions of the work itself:

Good blocks of oak it was I split,
As large around as the chopping block;
And every piece I squarely hit
Fell splinterless as a cloven rock.
Tha blows that a life of self-control
Spares to strike for the common good,
That day, giving a loose to my soul,
I spent on the unimportant wood.

[And, later]:
You'd think I never had felt before
The weight of an ax-head poised aloft,
The grip of earth on outspread feet,
The life of muscles rocking soft
And smooth and moist in vernal heat.

Great article, JA, explaining the principles of laterally trickling economics.

Also very interesting article by Ignatius today on parallels (and to some extent lack thereof) with the Iranian Revolution in Pakistan.

yellojkt, you mean those fire logs they display in the "hot dog" rotisserie?

Dave, I think Proliferating Basil would be a good handle.

"The blows" of course. I meant "the".

More prosaically, this Kit reminds me that if I have any hope of having a fire in our fireplace this season I better call some chimney people to check it out first. It has issues. Growing up as a kid my permanent winter-time place was on the hearth in front of the fire, until my back got too hot. Then I'd switch to the floor and put my feet in front of the flames. I hate to deprive the Boy of that experience, but without professional intervention I'll either smoke us out or have a more extensive blaze than I desire.

Mudge - my paternal grandparents used to heat their house with wood. My grandfather worked for the railroads in the logging area of the Pacific Northwest. His property abutted the rails. He obtained the wood to heat his house by using a large hooked stick to pull stump-sized chunks of wood from slow-moving logging trains. I recall him doing this well into his 80s. These chunks of wood were actually stowed on the open train cars for just this purpose by the loggers, who were also employees of the railroad. I guess this was what one called a fringe benefit.

You know how it is when you think you shouldn't do a thing and then you do it anyway and the result is even worse than you expected? I read the torture commentary from Cal Thomas in today's WaPo. His idea of a cogent argument for torturing suspects is quoting the Jack Bauer character on "24"!!! Yeah, right Cal, that'll convince 'em. And by the way, Cal, that cowpie Sam Donaldson reject toupe on your head has got us all completely fooled too.

We used to heat our house in Harrisonburg with a FreeFlow wood stove fueled with dead and down wood from the GWNF. I have burn marks from that appliance on my arms to this day. Getting wood was always an adventure as it was coincidental with deer season and guns were popping off everywhere. I had visions of being mistaken for a deer.

I like the tree felling, branching and cutting the trunks into manageable bits with the chainsaw but just can't warm up to splitting. It may be because I had very bad early experience. My Dad, who knows nothing about firewood, one fall bought what he thought was a great bargain; a truckload of elm stumps. These things were impossible to split, even using 2 or thre wedges at the same time. I splitted THE one we manage to damage using a scaling bar as a lever. Lots of sweat equity for very little BTUs. So a new plan was hatched, we would try to split them on the coldest days of winter. It usually helps on green wood, as the wood get somewhat brittle. But the cold hardened these stumps to an axe bouncing hardness. The amount of gasoline, chainsaw teeth filing and work it took to butcher the monsters into burnable chunks was simply epic.
I like wood burning so much that I chuck the basement woodstove out when we moved into our house and installed a gravity fed oil stove. Those are great little things, you don't have to get dressed and cross a frigid house at undue hours to feed it.

You might be amazed how a few years as an Army enlisted person hones one's foraging skills...

I once moved an entire 20-person tent and several people's worth of gear a couple hundred miles without a vehicle of my own.

:-)

You forgot to mention that the move was done through heavy, drifting, blowing snow, Scotty.

In response to birdie's request in the previous boodle, here it is:

Curmudgeon's Beefy Beef Vegetable Soup

(Kinda stolen from a recipe in "Good Housekeeping," and then "improved" and "modified.")

1 lb. carrots, sliced small
2 medium yellow onions (or one gigunda sweet Vidalia), chopped small (1/2-inch)
4-5 stalks celery, chopped, including leafy parts
5-6 garlic cloves, minced/crushed
½ a head of cabbage, chopped (1/2-inch to 1 inch)
¾ lb. of fresh green beans, ends snipped and then cut in half
(alternative to green beans: 3/4 lb. snow peas, ends trimmed, and cut in half)
2 small or one large zucchini, chopped
2 28-oz. cans of whole tomatoes, including juice
1 large can (48 oz.) or two boxes (24 oz.) chicken broth, preferably low-sodium
salt and pepper to taste (but a lot of it)
1 large bag of baby spinach, washed but not chopped
1 ½ to 2 pounds ground meat (hamburger, ground turkey, or ground chicken)
8-10 drops of green tabasco sauce
4-5 heaping tablespoons of beef base (Orrington Brothers powdered base)
3 tablespoons A-1 or similar steak sauce
2 tablespoons olive oil
water, as necessary (maybe as much as 5-6 cups)
* all weights and measures above wildly approximate
** feel free to substitute or add other veggies as whim and availability hit you. Any leftover veggies from the night before are especially good.

1. In a large 10-quart pot, heat olive oil and saute onions, celery and garlic and sprinkle with a teaspoon of salt. Cook about 8 to 10 minutes, inhaling frequently and going "ahhhhhhh." When done remove from pot and hold aside.

2. Put 1 ½ to 2 pounds of ground meat of choice in pot, and cook over medium heat, breaking up and stirring into smallest possible pieces. Ground turkey is best for low-fat diets, etc., and regular hamburger is fine for manly men who have arteries tough enough to handle manly cholesterol and plaque build-ups. Ground chicken is for weenie in-betweeners (just kidding). (You can use any leftover meat if you want, also any leftover gravy/au jus.) Cook about 20 minutes, adding salt, ground black pepper and A-1 steak sauce. When meat is thoroughly browned and broken up, add in cooked onions and celery mix, stir and cook a few more minutes.

3. Add everything else. Stir gently. Add enough water to bring it to within ½-inch of the top of the pot. Bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover, simmer for two hours, until the carrots are tender. Stir once in a while. Inhale frequently. Taste liquid, adjust salt and pepper until it reaches the "oh, yeah, that's it" stage. Fend off marauding children who want some before it's done. Fend off spouse, who says, "Boy, you made a big mess in the kitchen." Let contents of pot cool to room temperature, probably overnight. Divide contents into portions in tupperware, used cole slaw containers, tureens to be faxed to imaginary friends, whatever works. Store in refrigerator or freezer under armed guard (suggest heavy-duty Chubb lock for freezer/refridge in garage).

You folks make me appreciate my gaspack.

The last time we used the fireplace, so much smoke got into the house that the smoke detectors went off. I seriously thought about going to our nearby fire station and borrowing their positive pressure ventilation fan for an hour or so. Unfortunately, the weather was sooo cold that wasn't a good option, so the smell lingered for a week.

We've had the chimney checked, and they said there were cracks in the flue. The quote for a stainless steel liner was $2500. We haven't cared enough to spend that money yet.

The mountain place has gas logs, which are convenient and hot but smelly.

I'll ahve to run this by the Shop Steward, so in the mean time, the boodle's name has been changed to Throw Money:

The best things in life are free
But you can keep them for the birds and bees
Now give me money
That's what I want
That's what I want, yeah
That's what I want

You're lovin' gives me a thrill
But you're lovin' don't pay my bills
Now give me money
That's what I want
That's what I want, yeah
That's what I want

Money don't get everything it's true
What it don't get, I can't use
Now give me money
That's what I want
That's what I want, yeah
That's what I want, wah

Money don't get everything it's true
What it don't get, I can't use
Now give me money
That's what I want
That's what I want, yeah
That's what I want

Well now give me money
A lot of money
Wow, yeah, I wanna be free
Oh I want money
That's what I want
That's what I want, well
Now give me money
A lot of money
Wow, yeah, you need money
Now, give me money
That's what I want, yeah
That's what I want

A few years after immigrating to the Great Midwest, I discovered the joy of splitting wood. There's a secret I'll share with you should you be a curious novice in this art: Let the wood age at least a year (two is better) so it dries thoroughly. Then, split it when it's @$&&*#$ cold outside, the colder the better. For some reason, the wood gives itself up easier in really cold weather (though where I am that can be in the minus range), and the sweat you break out in feels like the glow of virtuous labor.

Tomorrow we will discuss how to turn your leaves into wonderful compost. Until then, have a pleasant day!

jack;

It was actually blowing sand, but anyway...

:-)

bc;

Please sit down and strap in before you view this...

http://autoshow.autos.msn.com/autoshow/SEMA2007/Article.aspx?cp-documentid=5668940

:-)

Gosh, it sounds so romantic to have a warm, crackling fire in the hearth, but here in Northern California we have such a different take on burning wood to keep warm - namely that it's extremely bad for air quality. Here's a quote from Monday's newspaper: "Burning wood is one of the greatest sources of air pollution, even more than vehicle emissions," said Bay Area Air Quality Management District spokeswoman Karen Schkolnick. "In the winter, that's a big problem."

That being said, I lived for the first 15 years of my marriage in the cold and damp forest of the Coast Redwoods, and depended entirely on wood heat for warmth. The romance wears off with the work involved - cutting, hauling, splitting, stacking, keeping the wood dry and as critter-free as possible, and then the constant fire-tending, wood stove cleaning and ash disposal - whew! I'll take my forced-air comfort any day of the week!

It has taken me a long time to get over the trauma of having lived three years in a house heated by wood. It had a heating system (incorrectly installed radiant heating in a concrete slab) that was so inefficient it cost roughly the Gross National Product of Ecuador to heat it for a season. In Virginia. Therefore, the wood stove.

How to describe those carefree mornings of waking to a cold house, the adenaline rush of stomping out the sparks that hit the carpet, the thrill of planning of one's day around feeding that beast? The only sensible thing we did was rent a log-splitter for one particularly oversized load of firewood.

In my current house, there is a fireplace and we use it only once a year. Burning those made-of-FSM-knows-what fake logs that take only one match to light.

Scotty, I think you need to meet Raysdad and swap "acquisition" stories. He says he patterned his military career after Lt. Nick Holden in "Operation Petticoat."

Clarification on Lt. Holden: the acquisition aspect, not the womanizing aspect. I think.

Just went out to lunch and noticed some odd white things falling from the sky, pretty much convinced me that tonight we will build the first fire of the year.

There were a few snowflakes swirling in the wind during my lunchtime foraging for bus tickets. Good thing the fuel tank has been topped up and the winter tires put on order, winter's coming in fast.
There is a sad individual, or maybe many, foraging for Christmas light bulbs in my neighborhood. You find one morning that the not-visible-from-the-house side of the big lighted Colorado spruce has been raided off of its lights. One day I hope to stick the Giant Old Lab and the puppy on that foraging Grinch.

Mudge--thank you!! It sounds wonderful. A lot of stuff in that thar soup. I will try it soon.

The sun is shinning here and lifted my spirits. I just have to get up earlier.

I must admit having a gas fireplace is great. Click on, warm up, click off. I go camping to get my crackling fix.

Shriek, I will loan you dmddog, although he is quite harmless - his bark is known to put fear into many. Foraging for Christmas lights is just wrong.

Yeah. My firewood came in a box.

My parents have a fireplace in their house in Florida. The just turn the thermostat down a little when they want to watch a fire so that the AC can compensate for the heat.

50 or so comments in and still no Lumberjack Song references? :-)

One of the drawbacks with a wood stove is what I have to do now. Stuff it with wood ,cut off the air and go to work, and just hope there are still coals left when I get home around midnight. I usually use unsplit logs at this time, a slower burn and more chance of coals when I return.

Have a good day folks.

I'm so sorry to hear of your bad radiant floor heat experience Raysmom. The 2 year old Chez Frostbitten North is the culmination of 25 years of planning for the perfect little one bedroom, one bath house in the frozen north. It sits on a concrete slab that was allowed to cure then sealed so that the radiant floor heat (off peak metering electric) is helped along by the low winter sun warming the dark slate grey concrete. The floor heat boiler usually runs just a few hours at night and then the house is toasty all day. The back up system, required to qualify for the off peak electric rates, is a propane gas stove that looks like a wood burning stove only prettier and not so demanding. The remote control thermostat was even less expensive than installing a hardwired version.

And that's OK.

Okaay then, dmd, from your lips to Michael Palin's ear-

BARBER:
I wanted to be... a lumberjack!

Leaping from tree to tree, as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia. The Giant Redwood. The Larch. The Fir! The mighty Scots Pine! The lofty flowering Cherry! The plucky little Apsen! The limping Roo tree of Nigeria. The towering Wattle of Aldershot! The Maidenhead Weeping Water Plant! The naughty Leicestershire Flashing Oak! The flatulent Elm of West Ruislip! The Quercus Maximus Bamber Gascoigni! The Epigillus! The Barter Hughius Greenus!

With my best buddy by my side, we'd sing! Sing! Sing!

[singing]
I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

MOUNTIES:
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!

[talking]
What's this? Wants to be a girlie?! Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!...

[singing]
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

And now for something Completely Different!

And to go with the Lumberjack Song, I give you the "Log Drivers Waltz" a short vignette that was done by the NFB and aired on Canadian TV often when I was growing up. Sadly for a time it was fashionable for young men of my age to dress like lumberjacks - then again it was the fashion dark days of the late 70's. Plaid flannel lumberjack jackets and Kodiak boots - laces loose - quite the fetching look.

http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=rPDi9DzihrE

Raysmom, I had radiant heat installed under my new tile floor in the master bathroom this past spring. It has a thermostat. I love it. The room has an outside wall and got very cold in the winter. But not any more. Sorry your experience wasn't better.

We don't have lumberjacks out here in the Great Northwest, we have loggers. My husband and I heated with wood for three years and I can tell you oak is useless until you have a substantial bed of coals to throw it on. Oaks works good as the stuff to burn before you go to bed,then all you have to do in the morning is stir it up a little and throw on the good stuff...maple! Splitting oak is nasty...maple cleaves cleanly and leaves hardly any mess. You can't beat the way wood heat feels. Do your self a favor and get a good insert for your fireplace. New Zealand makes some very good ones.

Hey! I used to wear a plaid shirtjacket and kodiaks. A Brooks Bros. suit wouldn't last long when you're driving a logging truck.
Not much dancing but the rivers are finally beginning to recover after 200 years of log rafting.

(Worthy thread from last post by KB)

Movies worth a tear or two:

Brian's Song at many moments
Schindler's list (especially the little red-ridinghood girl)
Life is Beautiful
Shane (boy standing calling out)
Old Yellow AND Where the Red Fern Grows AND Sounder
Of Mice and Men
Life as a House (Kevin Kline)

---
Convince that a cat movie will yield a good cry.

The best foraging, though, is in the hallways of a large government facility. You would be amazed what you can find in the dumpsters. I mean, the number of abandoned three-ring binders alone is startling.

But Boko the guys I was hanging out with were still in High School - it was a nice touch to our school uniform :-)

And pants. A plaid jacket, kodiaks, and pants. There was no funny stuff were I worked.

CP-I fear Homer Hickam's cat was written out of the screenplay for October Sky but I cried and cried when she met her demise in the book Rocket Boys. Movies are just too dog centric.

I've been meaning to say I cry easily at movies, so easily I was crying before the ship started sinking in the original Poseidon Adventure. Red Buttons seemed so lonely. Some have regarded this as some sign of softness, to their peril.

Kit was more interesting than the boodle (a first?), but both were kinda wooden. 'Cept the recipe,which Mudge hasn't used since his wife cleaned out the refrigerator, the freezer & the cupboards all on the same day in 1986.

I cry in the movies where the cat doesn't die. Does that count?

So, the cat-trieste is in the book? Noted.

Remember the eerie Disney _Thomasina_? I really liked that movie.

K-guy! You are wickedly funny but risk the wrath of cat-peeps everywhere.

Not me, though. I am deathly afraid of cats. Really.

Scotty, thanks for that link to the SEMA show.

I didn't go this year, but my brother did, and plenty of friends were exhibitors out there...

Journalists are notorious scroungers.
If there's free food or drink anywhere in a quarter mile radius, an well-trained journo can find it.

All they have to do is employ those same skills for other things (say, firewood).

I, for one, could easily never buy lunch in the office again. All I have to do is to is keep in touch with the local support professionals and find out when and where the lunch meetings are, then start circling those meeting rooms at around 12:45, and swoop in on the leftovers when the meetings break up (hint: it helps to like pickles, as few ever eat them).

Leftover sandwiches, salads, veggie pizzas (people *eat* the meat pizzas), sodas, water, brownies and cookies that are targeted to be thrown away will become your buffet 'o the day.

On a good day you can scavenge enough for dinner, too. Sometimes a couple days' worth.

One recent meeting had a couple of leftover Red Bulls; that stuff's Office Gold.

bc

SCC: "...a well-trained journo..."

Bah! [burp]

Excuse me, please.

bc

K-guy, if you don't like cats, this one should make you laugh. I did.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dzi_8Rscfs

You bring back painful fashion memory dmd. At one point the Kodiaks had to have a red interior and the tongue had to be fully down and the boots unlaced. Very practical.
But heck, what's wrong with plaid shirt, I wear one just now?

Hard as it may be to believe, but in a year that saw The Godfather", "Deliverance", and "Sleuth", "The Poseidon Adventure" was an Oscar winner- for best song. It was a very bad year for songs. It was nom'ed in a half dozen technical categories, but won only for the unmemorable "The Morning After".

Penn State students, circa 1970 unselfconciously wore Woolrich, which was manufactured not far away. The campus was in a windy spot, so it could seem a howling wilderness in winter. It was a very good place for those interested in subsisting on squirrels and deer. On opening day, class attendance was down and the department store held a "Deer Lost Ladies' Day Sale".

On a further note, I posted a silly little item on the 10thcircle re. some recent developments in cosmological astronomy, and the Universal Defect...

http://www.10thcircle.com/10/?p=214

Enjoy, ya'll.

Hmm. You could say I phoned this one in...

bc

Not a plaid shirt Shriek, the plaid flannel jacket, usually red and black - like Red Green wears.

The video is funny.

The Morning After won and Oscar? If I remember correctly the music from the Godfather is really good - how was that possible?

I cried at the end of "All the President's Men" when that nice Richard Nixon character had to resign all because of those nasty Post reporter persons who persecuted him.

I cried at the end of "The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms" (written by Ray Bradbury, incidentally, in case ya didn't know), when the giant brontosaurus that was ravaging Coney Island died when those mean scientists shot an isotope into his neck. Mean scientists!

And I think I may have sobbed quietly while Elmer Fudd sang, "I will kill the wabbit!"

I'm very easily moved.

"foraging for Christmas lights is just wrong."

Foraging for Christmas lights in early November is wronger.

I cried at the end of "Reservior Dogs."

bc

For Mr. Pink? Or Mr. White?

Joel--Just consider yourself Robin Hood.

k-guy,
Warn me before you drop a tune cootie like that.

There's got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
Let's keep on lookin' for the light

Now the afternoon's shot.

Firewood? A perfect segue into the Doug Brinkley story from the Texas Book Festival, what has gotten me out of bed this morning, although the terrible hacking cough remains, but my sinuses are drying up.

I saw Doug on Saturday when he introduced, from the House Chamber dais, Joseph Ellis, who talked about his book "American Creation: Triumphs and Tragedies at the Founding of the Republic." Loomispouse and I went down to talk to Ellis in the signing tent, but Brinkley was nowhere to be found.

Sunday morning, we had decided to eat at the Whole Foods "mother ship" store for breakfast, but couldn't reach it because of all the street barricades that had been put up in the wee hours for the Race for the Cure. We had gotten in my car, turned right on the first street heading north, could not cross Congress, turned left on 9th, came back south on San Jacinto, and were able to park in the spot we had just given up five minutes earlier. So we ditched the car and walked the three miles to and from breakfast, having to weave our wave through the throngs of runners on Congress.

Once we got back to the room, we got organized for the day, which meant getting books I already owned of those authors were to speak that Sunday into a tote, and checking out of the Marriott. The books that I got signed on Saturday went into a suitcase and cloth tote and into the trunk of the car. (Good-bye, last of our Marriott reward points!)

We had to hoof it up Congress to the festival. At the light at 7th and Congress, I looked to my right, and who is standing there at the group of newspaper racks but neatly pressed Doug Brinkley and his lanky, tall, young, dark blonde, male assistant. Doug was pulling a paper from the rack and beginning to scan pages A2 and A3 rapidly, intently. (What was he so eager to locate?) I was carrying three books in my small tote--two of them Brinkley's, biographies of John Kerry and Gerald Ford, so availed myself of the opportunity to have Brinkley sign them, not in a mob setting. He did a balancing act, not using the top of any of the racks, and I chatted. He seemed slightly distracted.

I began to see Brinkley as a decent guy, when later Sunday afternoon, after Todd Gitlin spoke--Gitlin, a professor of journalism and sociology--about his new book, "The Bulldozer and the Big Tent: Blind Republicans, Lame Democrats, and the Recovery of American Ideals," only one woman had stepped up to the mic to ask a question. We had been shunted to the gallery, far from the mic, and from that vantage point, I could see Brinkley breeze in minutes later with his assistant and take a seat in the far back right corner of the Senate floor. Brinkley approached the mic as John Q. Public and asked Gitlin a question about progressives' views about immigration.

Brinkley's talk later in the day about the Reagan diaries--Brinkley was editor--had been the last to be held in the House Chamber. Loomispouse had stood in line for the Brinkley address while I was down in the signing tent with Gitlin. We grabbed the same seats in the House Chamber, just below the dais, that we had earlier that morning for Toobin and Bernstein. Having one good eye, it helps to be close as possible.

Brinkley did an excellent job during his 45 minute address. The crowd was tired though, one woman dozed, the chamber not as full as it should have been. When no one rose to ask Brinkley a question, I assumed the same role for Brinkley, as Brinkley did for Gitlin.

I could talk about Brinkley's comments about Reagan, but two things Brinkley said about himself during his talk were a surprise. Ellis had mentioned the day before that Brinkley now has four children under the age of four. Brinkley revealed during his talk that he now teaches at Rice and lives in Austin, an Austinite.

The thought had flickered across my mind about why Brinkley had appeared two years in a row at the festival. Last year he talked about "The Great Deluge" on Saturday, an address we missed because last year we attended only on Sunday and heard the Vidal-Dowd discussion. This year, Brinkley was part of a Friday night big-bucks party fundraiser. I have no idea of how Brinkley commutes to Houston for his teaching responsibilities--whether he drives or flies--but it began to become obvious that he is becoming rather vested in the book festival.

The other surprise is Brinkley's next project--a book about the start of the American conservation movement--profiling four--Theodore Roosevelt, John Muir, and Gifford Pinchot, and the fourth name I can no longer recall. When Brinkley's talk was over, Loomispouse and I were pretty much in step with him as he was walking the broad aisle to the back of the chamber.

All of a sudden, a child's voice began to ring out. "DAD-DEE, you did GOOD! You did GOOD, DAD-DEE!" It was Brinkley's second child, his first son, a doll with a mop of hair. After giving his son a hug, Brinkley began talking with a nicely dressed gentleman. When they were finished, I leaned in, I asked, "You will be covering Frederick Law Olmsted's important work at Mariposa [in your next book, won't you]? He's on the family tree."

At which point, Brinkley said, "Aww, c'm here." He reached out, gave me a full frontal body hug, and planted a kiss on that soft inch of flesh right before my right ear. I was flabbergasted, stepped back, and asked about his boy, knowing that Benton (a family name for me--my father, Merwin Benton, and grandfather, Benton Benoni) is the name of his first daughter. It all happened so fast.

I don't know how Brinkley became interested in the subject of American conservation, but he's going West! Part of the Zeitgeist, given the recent Nobel for Gore and the recent programs on CNN and NBC? Or has Brinkley been hanging around our own Trinity University history professor Char Miller, (now that Brinkley is a Texan), who wrote a biography of Pinchot in 2001?

I found our branch library has the Miller biography of Pinchot, where I'm headed shortly to check it out. I did Google Pinchot this morning, because during my 2004 trip to Connecticut, I passed through Milford, Pa. three times and each time noticed the historical marker along the highway south of town proclaiming that Pichot was from the region.

Pinchot and Olmstead became acquainted on their work at Biltmore (cue Anderson Cooper), the architect building both Biltmore and the Pinchot family home in Pennsylvania, Grey Towers. An article in Timberlines calls Biltmore the "Birthplace of American Forestry"--something you might want to remember as you forage for your firewood. *l*

What also stuck out this morning as I was Googling judiciously was Pinchot's birthplace of Simsbury, Conn. This link for Milford's Grey Towers clinched it:

http://www.fs.fed.us/gt/local-links/historical-info/gifford/gifford.shtml

Pinchot's great-grandfather was Elisha Phelps, the same Phelps bloodline that ties me to John Kerry, the old Phelps homestead sitting on the Loomis-Chaffee campus. Elisha Phelp's son went to Missouri and plays a hand in the story of the U.S. Camel Corps.

These close family links (Loomis-Phelps) might better explain the close ties, other than the obvious one of common interest in subject matter, between Olmsted and Pinchot. Putting Pinchot on the family tree may also garner me another kiss from Brinkley the next time our paths cross. *l*

LOL, bc. Degree in theology, indeed!

I have a strong affinity for plaid that comes straight out of the 70's. A few years ago I saw a plaid bed linens and curtains. Since I was looking for new fittings, I conferred with mr dr. He left me with no doubt that plaid of any sort on the marriage bed would be tantamount to a declaration of war. (I think he has bad memories of plaid pants and suits.)

TBG, I was so frustrated after my giant Christmas tree was foraged 2 years in a row I didn't decorate one in the past couple of years. I may resume the tradition this year, but in the backyard. It takes an afternoon, and an afternoon to take down, with the old trusty 20ft telescopic pool vacuum handle.
Thanks bc for the link to "Sputnik", I found the show very informative. But I have to say I was surprised by the American pronunciation of Sputnik, that is "spotnik". In French, as in Russian and German if the old guys in the show had it right, it's "spootnik".

During the legislative session it is possible to forage for lunch pretty much every day - someone is giving away food somewhere. It is slim pickings in the off season. It is difficult to forage the halls for castoffs (people guard any non-broken furniture), but I got three lovely ivy plants for my office that way.

Mudge, don't forget the terribly sad endings in the original Godzilla and sequels when the poor monster appears to be vanquished and die. Tear-jerkers every one.

Loved the cat 'n' car promo. I hear that Mike Vick is opening a Ford Sportka dealership and will be starring in all their commercials from now on.

Hey, MedallionOfFerret. Where's my bridge?

RDP;

No joke, I saved a 40 GB internal hard drive from a "recycling" bin at work last week...

*rolling my eyes*

:-)

Linda, George Vanderbilt bought thousands of acres in the western NC mountains and built Biltmore just outside Asheville. He employed Pinchot to manage the timber on his land. Pinchot brought European techniques to the estate and started a school for foresters, now known as the Cradle of Forestry. Before his time, clearcutting was the normal way of handling timber, with predictable and disastrous results. Vanderbilt's vast holdings formed the nucleus of Pisgah National Forest.

Biltmore is reputed to be the largest private home in the US, and is well worth a visit:

http://www.biltmore.com/

TBG you are making me feel guilty, we have just set the date for our get together with some friends - after multiple emails establishing a date that works for all, my only reaction was to be excited that I have an excuse to have the whole dmd estate decorated inside and out for Dec. 7. Winters are long up here, I only get through by going completely overboard for Christmas/winter decor. I try not to put anything up before US Thanksgiving except outside lights when I pick the warmest weekend I can in November, but refrain from turning the lights on til later.

Thanks, Slyness. Glad you liked it.

Mudge, I cried for all of them.

shriek, I'm glad you liked the Spootnik/Nova link. Watched on PBS last night, and enjoyed it.

bc

Actually, the original "Godzilla" film (called "Gojira" in Japan) was a pretty big budget film for the Toho studio at the time, had some major talent (Takashi Shimura!) and poised some serious issues regarding testing and use of atomic weapons, a topic of great concern to the Japanese. In its American release, the Hollywood distributor grafted on a clumsy side plot with Raymond Burr as a reporter and cut the runtime by 20 minutes, eliminating much of the heavier morality stuff and reducing it to a monster flick. AFI in Silver Spring showed the original version a couple of years ago and it is now available on DVD.

The best trained cat I've seen on TV is that cat which heels with the bloodhound to his litterbox. Maybe they live together and the cat just likes to heel (I've seen some pet cats do that), but that's pretty nifty.

Other than that, cats don't really take direction too well to make actors. And even then, there's the size issue in filming. So basically you need a poofy cat or a few cat doubles for the correct takes for extremely simple stuff.
(Data's cat Spot was played by three different cats; one just lay to be stroked, the other would move around to invisible lures).

So basically, a cat "actor" is going to e a lot like Dr. Evil's Mr. Bigglesworth, who basically is held and stroked.

It's kind of hard to write a script around that, you know, not compelling TV. Documentaries on cats work better because of the lack of acting stuff.

On the other hand, "Pushing Daisies" has a nice golden retriever who in a few episodes thus so far has: pulled a fire alarm; heeled offleash properly; endured being dressed up like a ghost and carried items. halted properly to be petted at a distance with a stick or a false hand.

Those are all pretty easy tricks to teach a dog; the challenge is getting the dog to obey reliably enough on camera. That requires good socialization and exposure to lots and lots of distractions.

Given that the average cat's response to intruders is to hide under the sofa, I don't really think there's as big a talent pool of well-socialized, confident cats that could do film work and pay attention around many strangers, even if properly trained.

And here's a taste of what it takes to train a cat-- the current Morris.

3 weeks to get a trained cat wearing sunglasses?!!

http://home.ivillage.com/pets/cats/0,,h92s-p,00.html

It took me all of one minute to get Wilbrodog wearing cat ears long enough to pose.

So cat-lovers shouldn't complain; they need to accept that cats simply won't ever match dogs in TV and film work. Even with the talent pool and more people actually training their cats, there's still a major temperamental learning curve for cats.

(By the way, I actually think a cat I babysat would have been able to learn to accept a harness and walk on leash in less than 3 weeks of careful introduction so he felt in control every step. But he was very dog-like; he'd wait by the door when we came home, had no problems coming to be petted, etc. I don't see him being thrilled about sunglasses though.)

speaking of weeping, dummy that I am, I went and looked up that song I linked to yesterday. Turns out 'Marcia Baïla' is an homage to Marcia Moretto who died of cancer in 1981 at the age of 32. An Argentinian choreographer and dancer Catherine Ringer studied and performed with in the 70s. Now instead of making me want to dance...

And some people forage in an ENTIRELY inappropriate manner... *SIGHHHHHH*

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/11/07/AR2007110701367.html?hpid=topnews

Front page alert! Mudge, is the bunker presentable?

From now on I'll listen to 'Les Amants'. It's danceable, and has a simulated orgasm at the end.

Oh, and in case you have trouble figuring it out, Catherine Ringer is the singer in Les Rita Mitsouka, she is still alive and very sexy and the band still performs and tours. in Europe, so I won't be seeing them any time soon, except on YouTube.

Good one, Scottynuke. How can a municipality, even DC, miss that scale of theft over years? Don't answer that.

I'd like to see the original Gojira. I introduced the Boy to the early Godzilla movies and monster spin-offs when he was very young. I had to brainwash him so I'd have someone to sit and watch them with me. Years ago in Boston some local station ran them on Saturday mornings and it was the perfect distraction from law school. I was hooked. Mothra's my favorite. Let's all sing along with the tiny twins in the pillbox hats.

I'm astounded the big "O" got past the Wirty Dird Filter...

Ivansmom, I do believe you're recalling Channel 38's "Creature Feature."

:-)

My heart will always belong to Gamera the flying turtle monster. He was a friend to children you know.

Hey - the kit has a picture. Can they *do* that?

Shhh, they can do italics too. We should go on strike.

First a widget, now a picture!

Thanks much to Mike Corones...our hero!

And I'm seeing very on-topic Google Ads...I'm going to click through...We're going to make the A-blog successful if it kills us! NO ONE GETTING KICKED IN THE TEETH JUST BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IN QUALITY.

I'm going to buy one of these fake trees that have been advertised on this very page:

http://www.1800sendsilk.com/catalog/cat.php?pg_id=3

(Fake trees are, as you know, the source of fake fireplace logs.)

Gamera - or however you spell it, Flying Turtle Boy -- is also one of our favorites. There were cheap little children's cartoon books about Monster Islad and Godzilla which featured Gamera among others. We read them over and over. In Monster Island, see, all the monsters are hanging out when there's a storm one night and a huge oval washes up on the beach. I'm having trouble with names right now, but the giant spider monster and another guy try to guard it, then that guy with three wings comes to attack it, then everyone fights until Godzilla steps in, then the oval turns out to be an egg and it is Mothra. Cue music (I would sing the Mothra song). Ah, memories.

But how easy is it to split fake tree Joel?

Joel, I'll bet Dave of the Coonties could get you real plants at a fraction of those costs.

I go away for a little while and return to a picture in the kit! Bonsai! (Keeping with the tree side topic)

Today's lesson in e-commerce: RTFM, otherwise known as reading the fine manual. I'd bought some stones on e-Bay in a hurry; although the cost was very small, the shipping was high. The stones were plastic, clearly not what was described in the ad. Upon further research, I discovered a number of instances where others complained about similar problems and were out-persisted by the company, ending up with the charges and poor merchandise.

The company's customer service department sent a stern message about reading their return policy. Return them, refund on price only, not shipping. I'd read the e-Bay/Paypal procedures in the meantime, and replied that the objects were SNAD (significantly not as described). Repeat the cycle.

I was offered a store credit for the objects and shipping/handling. No good, I'm never doing business with them again. I mentioned Paypal's refund procedures, which would go on the company's record, and was magically granted a full refund of objects, shipping and handling.

Anybody want some plastic "amber?" They don't want it back. They've got more.

Coincidentally, these are the same mad skilz necessary for a good IT PM--impulsivity, calling a lie a lie, standing fast and getting out when the deal turns good.

"Click through"? Do Google Ad clicks help the Achenblog?

If you like "Godzilla", I-mom, you should check out "The Host", a recent Korean pollution-mutant monster flick.

That picture sure is nifty, but it's a slippery slope. Now we'll expect Kit-appropriate pictures all the time. It strikes me that some Kits aren't really picture-friendly. This could be fun.

I also admire the whole "widget" option, even though I still don't know what one is. Ya know, way back in law school we always had hypotheticals involving widget factories or salesmen, precisely because nobody knew what widgets were. The point was the legal question, see, not what the widget people actually did. I think some computer/IT person, a law school or business school refugee, remembered that when naming the Internet "widget".

A picture with the Kit...

I'm speechless.

bc

Some people are going to be cold tonight in Southern Oregon. It has been below freezing the past few nice clear nights.Notice in the local paper this morning:

Air deteriorates; county limits wood stove use
November 07, 2007
Wood stove users face restrictions beginning today because of deteriorating air quality in Jackson County.

The county has declared today a "yellow day" for wood stove use, meaning people with non-certified wood stoves must stop using them and people with certified stoves can burn only if no visible smoke is produced.

The rules apply in the Air Quality Maintenance Area, which covers most of the county, and extends until at least 7 a.m. Thursday.

A Department of Environmental Quality air-quality monitor at Grant and Belmont streets in Medford showed small particulates were at a moderately unhealthy level this morning.

"According to the National Weather Service, ventilation is not expected to improve significantly in the next 48 hours," said Gary Stevens, county environmental health manager, in a news release.

We have lots of wood all cut and stacked but no wood stove. We burn about 200 gallons of stove oil a winter. Only problem the cost has increased almost $100 per year the last five years. Stove oil was $2.93/gal this year and we were lucky to have the take filled just before the price spiked to over $3 due to "some unexpected refinery maintenance problems October 15th." And now others tell me the suppliers are going up even further due the speculators raising the cost of oil over $100 per barrel in NEW York City! Oil that will never be refined this year.

If you want to find out what a widget is, you'll have to find a copy of "The Wheeler Dealers" with James Garner and Lee Remick, wherein Garner and Remick buy stock in a New England widget factory. James Garner was the first movie star I ever met. His home town is Norman, Oklahoma and I was ten when he came to town to promote the "Maverick" series in 1958. He came to our school in costume and signed autographs and handed out playing cards with his picture on them.

I cried when Mel Gibson's intestines were ripped out in Brave Heart. Really.

I saw the picture. Made me want to cry boss.

See I'll cry at anything.

I cried when Mel Gibson's intestines were not ripped out in "The Patriot". Really.

bh-your experience is why I'm wading through a stack of literature on ETS or Electric Thermal Storage technology. When coupled with a geothermal heat pump these things appear to be just what we need to retrofit our local school when the school district sells it, and it's $30,000 annual heating bill to our local community foundation. We're not buying if we can't cut that cost by at least a half. Here's a cheesy promo video from one manufacturer.
http://www.steffes.com/Movie/index.html:

Thanks for the Biltmore link, Slyness. Would love to see it some day.

Doubled back in the Witold Rybczynski biography of Olmsted, "Clearing in the Distance" on Sunday night late to see if there were listings in the index for Pinchot. There were. I now admit that I never finished Witold's book, having stopped just several chapters sly of the end. Picked up my knowledge of Olmsted's involvement in the Columbian Exposition through Erik Larson's well-written and well-researched "The Devil in the White City" as well as other sources.

Interestingly, if you read a summary/biography of Gifford Pinchot... Gifford's paternal grandpappy Pinchot was one of those clear-cutting timber barons, as Mr. Boeing in Washington state was also a timber baron (throwing this in for Padouk).

Seems it was a pretty clubby Connecticut group back there at Biltmore. Richard Hunt Morris' mum had connections to Suffield and Hartford. Bro and artist William Morris Hunt painted mum's portrait.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Morris_Hunt

http://www.artprintcollection.com/searchResults.php?search=+barbizon+school

Richard Morris Hunt had connections to Olmsted via Central Park (major disagreement) and connections for both to the New York Tribune, Olmsted as early roving correspondent writing about his saddle trips through the South and through Texas; Hunt, architect--with an elevator!

BTW, Brinkley nodded in the affirmative, before he pulled me to him, that he would be mentioning Olmsted's work in Mariposa/Yosemite in his upcoming book.

I think I'm losing touch with my inner scrounger. We have the fancy coffee machine, the stocked lounge, and various lunches, events and dinners. Teachers I know can't believe the amount of "free" events that we have that go unused or are a struggle to fill.

Don't everyone say "there, there" at once, but lunches and dinners out do lose their novelty. I shouldn't have been, but I was shocked at the numbers on some sample lunches and dinners:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20071107.wlbeck07/BNStory/lifeFoodWine/home

crc, ha!

Loomis, before you go to another book signings and report back you should keep in mind that this is a PG website. ;)

SoC, I saw those numbers as well, some of the quiz answers surpised me as well.

Linda, you'll be interested to know that the current owners of Biltmore are descended from William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Elizabeth I's principal secretary, as well as from George Vanderbilt.

Ivansmom: "Now we'll expect Kit-appropriate pictures all the time."

Speak for yourself. I'm looking forward to highly Kit-inappropriate pictures all the time.
I just wonder whether Joel arranges the pictures, or it's out of his hands entirely?

For instance, today's inappropriate picture should have been an oil refinery or drilling rig.

It's supposed to be a humor blog, not an "appropriate" blog.

crc -- touche'

JA attributed the picture! But of course he would since he has a polished and working moral compass.

I cry when my students slip in pictures taken from Google images AND DO NOT CITE them. Come to think of it, I cry when they slip pictures into their papers....this is becoming typical and must be resisted.

BTW -- Aldo Leopold is one of the people I hope to meet in heaven. Gifford Pinchot, too.

I'm not surprised at those numbers-- I don't eat American-style restaurants much because they always serve double shares of what I should eat, and I have an appetite too big for me to start with.

For that amount of food, I want better-tasting veggies. Sadly, there's only so much salad I can eat at those restaurants when eating out.

But it's amazing-- this local place served me some kind of chicken parmesan. It was easily two dinners for me, and change. Wilbrodog got a small helping from the doggy bag, then the next day we split the residue. Not ordering there again; the ironic thing was the chicken wasn't even breaded or fried like a normal chicken parmesean, or it'd have been even more calories altogether.

That's an appropriate and filling meal for a hard working guy out all day burning like 3,000 to 4,000 calories per day, but not so much for me. Shrug.

The first program I watched after we got our sat TV connection was Americas Castles. I love those big old homes but I sure wouldn't want to heat them.

Frosty, my brother-in-law, the seriously disturbed man of strong coffee, and guy who runs Ironmans, does exactly that. He retrofits buildings with that kind of technology. He is making some serious dough doing it. They recently installed it at their house using the front yard as the source . Once the lawn is back, you can't tell its there.

What is a dyslexic sociopath?

Well, I'm going to build a fire tonight. I don't see how I can avoid it after reading this. Although the local idiot shoved all my cut-up oak down the embankment into the briarpatch last summer, I have acquired some maple which has seasoned rather quickly in the fiery drought we had over the last few months.

When I had the hardwood floor business, I generated between 3% to 5% scrap, depending, and since it's factory dried to a scant 7% moisture, I always lugged it home for kindling. Just a few pieces can get a far-too-wet hunk of smoldering sweetgum back burning again. I have the woodstove (Fisher) in the fireplace. My brother heated his homes with wood over in the NC mountains for about 25 years. In fact, when he started his practice, he often traded his professional skills for loads of firewood or even freshly cleaned chickens, in lieu of cash, from patients who were strapped for $. A couple of years ago, his wife told him "It stops now. We are putting gas logs in the fireplace Monday. No more, it's over, I've had enough of bark, smoke, etc." I think he tried to put up some sort of defense, but from his normally easygoing wife, this ultimatum was a bit surprising, and he acquiesced. His sons laughed that two years later they took some of the old split oak from the still existing sheltered pile for a party, and he got all possessive over his wood - he had split it himself three years ago, darn it, who said they could take it?!

A dyslexic sociopath is someone who can't tell the difference between "left" and "wrong."

Warning: Corones has sent me instructions on how to post a picture AND ... I have new laptop with an "aircard" which means we may soon take this blog straightaway into the 21st Century.

SCARY, ISN'T IT.

Very. Now you'll be able to have guest amateur photographers, which is highly terrifying.

I offer the use of my lewd otter picture for any blogs on the beauty of nature.

http://wilbrodog.blogspot.com/2006/10/zoo-changed-on-me.html

But still no italics. Sigh. I long for italics.

Your comments on free stuff and the meek brought to mind a conversation I had many years ago with this extremely conservative fellow who thought that the economic collapse of the country was at hand. He prattled on about hoarding gold, building up a food supply and water. I told him that it was a waste of good money. Instead, I told him, I am going to by a 50 caliber machine gun and all the ammunition I could get. When the collapse came, I would have his gold, food, water and his shelter! At least that shut him up for a while.

Joel, Welcome to the zeros!

birdie... don't get too excited. I think Joel's perfectly happy to keep this blog firmly set in, say... 1998.

It just occurred to me, is Corones the new Newman, or the assistant to Newman? Or Newman's boss? Why have we not given this peerless purveyor of blog stuff a boodle handle of his own? (Is he peerless?)

Or did someone else cover this and I missed it? I am so confused.

I am also alone.

Knock, knock, is anybody there, it's dead Jim and all the usual stuff.

This has always promoted boodlers to say something. It should work, or else I might have to prattle on about yarn or doilies. As all readers of my blog know, I can do this, in a heartbeat.

SCC prompted.

I have some very nice new yarn from Knitpicks? Want to hear about it?

Why yes dr. I do.

So here's a question I posed this summer. Does burning wood in a fireplace improve or degrade the environment? That is, given that I can reduce my reliance on oil-fired power plants by burning wood from my storm-felled trees, is there a net decrease or increase in C02 emissions?

Of course, I'm going to burn the wood regardless. I just want to know how guilty I should feel about doing so.

Late to the discussion as usual. I still have scars from a years ago wood stove experience. The heat was way too dry and cleaning the humidifier was a pain. My Ex, not an outdoorsman, once tried to split wood with a chainsaw. This act was witnessed by the neighbor, who, with a twinkle in his eye, explained to Ex that this approach to log splitting was bad for the chainsaw.

I love a nice wood fire on a cold night, very romantic, but not much of a heat source as it plays havoc with the thermostats.

Install an air-scrubber on your chimney, plant ten trees, and stop worrying, RD.
http://www.netl.doe.gov/publications/proceedings/01/carbon_seq/7b1.pdf

I would like to hear about yarn, and about spinning yarn. Mr. F won't let go of his dream of raising dairy sheep-I'm all for the chance to make cheese but spinning and all things yarnish seem, if not fun, at least not horrible.

RD-it depends.

Biltmore is very nice. I went several times while in college. I imagine it hasn't changed much. The last time I went I got severe sticker shock. It was nearly as much as a day as DisneyWorld. I guess antiques are more expensive to make nowadays.

I had never heard of ETS. Chilled water and ice storage has been around for a long time, but I've never seen a heating version. I'm not sure how much use it would be coupled with ground source heat pumps. Diminishing returns and all.

In a cold climate I see it as a great back-up source for air-cooled heat pumps. Heat pumps shouldn't be used north of Richmond or south of Gainesville. I like my natural gas furnace too much.

Utilities in deregulated areas have pretty much eliminated time of day rates for commercial users. The formulas that third party providers use to quote rates account for load factor but don't tell the customers how they are doing it.

Gosh, yello, I didn't realize heat pumps had such a limited range. That's what we have at the mountain place, supplemented by the gas logs. It annoys me when Mr. T turns up the logs, because they warm the downstairs and the heat pump doesn't come on to heat the upstairs. When we leave, we turn the logs several degrees lower than the heat pump, which we set to about 50, so they don't come on. We also turn off the water heater and the pump in the well.

It is foretold that you will know it's the end when "the-fat-lady" sings.

http://emilyharveygallery.com

Back when I was a wee small scientist (ScienceTimmy), I saw "Thomasina" on the Wonderful World of Disney one Sunday night. The next morning it was very difficult to get me out of the house and off to preschool (or maybe it was Kindergarten) (or maybe it was third grade), as I ran frantically about the house, looking under and behind every object, crying "Thomasina! Where are you, Thomasina?" I feel that sense of loss every time I hear the name. However, I saw the movie again a few years ago, and it really stunk up the place. Plus, I always see Patrick McGoohan as a faintly villainous character. He's hiding something. Something Big. Like, he's ready to kill you with a minimum of fuss and no noise, if you seem ready to reveal his Secrets. It's hard to see him as the daddy veterinarian who rediscovers his love and empathy through the redeeming love of his child. Or was it someone else's child? I can't recall.

Ah, but SciTim, do yo remember when it was the "Wonderful World of Color"?

Gosh darn it I'm gettin' old.

Yeah, RD, Sunday nights at 7:30, right? Bonanza came on at 9. *sigh* I loved Hoss but dreamed about Little Joe.

I am just so unable to keep up with you folks.

But I did just do one of those karate claps on a fruit fly and got the bugger.

I need to back-boodle to see what the heck you've all been discussing, but as to the kit:

Joel... I've got a very large pile of knotty pine scraps you can have for free. Of course, you'd have to drive to Ohio to get them and then they'd probably mess up your chimney (not exactly the cleanest-burning wood, but it works nice for little doors). I've been thinking of using the scraps to make clappers for wind-chimes, but I'm up to my eyeballs in door orders. Maybe after the holidays...

Hope everyone is warm tonight. 34F here and going down and our furnace is out. Got electric heaters and sweaters and the oven on broil, so hopefully the pipes won't explode. That would be an extreme bummer.

Peace out... and night-night.

No, no, no yello. The geothermal exchange, or ground water geothermal is incredibly efficient in a northern clime and nothing like the air source. Here is a link from the US DOE. http://www.eere.energy.gov/consumer/your_home/space_heating_cooling/index.cfm/mytopic=12640

We have an open loop, or what is known locally as a "pump and dump" system installed in a 3 unit vacation rentalproperty. It heats and cools 5600 square feet, and heats water, for a monthly average of just under $200. The ground water system brings the well water used by the plumbing system up to a temp that makes the electric water heater much more efficient. Our elec co-op has great off peak rates, which we qualify for because each rental unit has a gas fireplace as a back up. However, even without a break on the electric rates our system beats the heck out of gas as a primary source.

Next step for the Frostbitten household is to go off grid with solar and/or wind. A friend who lives not far from here is just about done constructing a system for his cabin, spurred by the quote he got for running electricity to his place.

martooni... stay warm, but please be careful, my friend.

I remember watching Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color every Sunday evening at my grandparents' house. I remember when they finally got a color TV and it all made sense.

We usually had to leave my grandparents' sometime in the middle of Ed Sullivan and very rarely got to see Bonanza. That drive home from Chevy Chase to Fairfax every Sunday night was dreadful.

I remember Disney's Wonderful World of Color. Unfortunately we didn't get a color TV until '71 or '72. It wasn't all that good in B&W. I never saw Bonanza until I was in college a few years later. I always liked the episodes Robert Altman directed. They were always a bit off-center from the standard episodes.

Good luck, Martooni. I hope all goes well.

Appalachian State (remember them? ASU 34, Michigan 32) has a new program in alternate energy technologies; our neighbor in the mountains is going for his degree in it. I would be okay with being off grid, as long as we had enough power to run the pump. The well is 820 feet deep, or thereabouts - too deep to drop a bucket.

kurosawaguy,

I'm insanely jealous. I'm a huge James Garner fan. I think his real last name is Baumgarner and I assumed that his tributes to his "Pappy" in Maverick or his "Daddy" in Rockford Files was a tribute to his Oklahoma upbringing. I wish they would release more Maverick episodes on DVD.

Loomis,

Brinkley's next subject is an excellent one with lots to cover. Environmental history is a very cool field. It will be interesting to see what he does with it.

I agree, fb. Ground source heat pumps can be incredibly efficient. They just have about twice the cost of conventional systems. You have to have a good aquifer to get away with the pump and dump systems and they don't have the load imbalance problems of closed loop systems.

Air source heat pumps (the ones that look like regular AC units) lose efficiency rapidly below freezing. You are air conditioning the outdoors with a heat pump and if its too cold, it has to work that much more. Check your light to make sure your electric heat strip isn't running too much.

We were renting a townhouse with a heat pump that had been wired wrong. When it got cold enough to need auxiliary heat, the whole unit fried. The house got down below 50 deg F before we could get a repairman out.

yello-it is a shame that many of the most efficient heating and cooling systems are so expensive that they aren't used as extensively as they could be. I hope one benefit of the current real estate downturn is that people will have a more long term view and consider the relatively short period it takes to see a return on energy efficiency investments. Relatively short when you consider a 30 year mortgage that is.

The Frostbitten systems wouldn't work everywhere, but every climate has better choices than are typically installed. Frostsis #1 has done some work on rammed earth houses, using old tires, in New Mexico. Lucky.

Before I bid the boodle fondue, some interesting memory stuff. (Slightly on topic since we've been sharing memories of heat and TV)

"There is a 41-year-old woman, an administrative assistant from California known in the medical literature only as "AJ," who remembers almost every day of her life since age 11. There is an 85-year-old man, a retired lab technician called "EP," who remembers only his most recent thought. She might have the best memory in the world. He could very well have the worst."

The rest is here:
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/2007-11/memory/foer-text.html

But does she remember remembering that she remembered something at a given moment in time?
You could get into an infinite memory loop there, it seems.

I didn't know Robert Altman directed Bonanza episodes! I loved the opening of Bonanza, and the horses.

Trying to get ready to hop on a plane very early in the morning - off to meet kbertocci and go to the Miami Book Fair! So excited!

I do not remember the Wonderful World of Color. Not in our house. I remember being very confused when the TV announced that a show (Batman, for example) would be *IN COLOR!*. I always assumed that the networks had simply messed up, since our TV obviously showed no such thing. I don't believe we owned a color TV of our own until well into the 70's. Maybe as late as '78 or so. Later? I can't recall. Maybe so. I can at least report that I had figured out that we were the locus of technological limitation by as early as '71.

Mostlylurking, I have been straightening up the guest room and polishing the plastic flamingos in the front yard, and all is ready. It will be hard to concentrate on work tomorrow but I'll get through the day somehow.

The weather has been ab-so-lute-ly perfect this week, and I see no reason why it shouldn't continue that way for the next few days. No need for furnaces or heat pumps or air conditioners or any of that. Come on down!

The invitation is still open for anybody else who wants to join us at the Miami Book Fair.

Ralph Nader will be there. And Erica Jong. Also Wesley Clark, appearing together with Rajiv Chandrasekaran to talk about Iraq. Christopher Hitchens. Tom Hayden. Paul Krugman. Cal Thomas. This year seems to be heavy on nonfiction, commentary, etc. with not so much literary fiction. But Michael Ondaatje is scheduled, along with a bunch of poets. And about 350 other writers and countless booksellers and thousands of readers. You might think nobody reads books anymore, but you have to rethink that idea after you've seen the Miami Book Fair.

Past my bedtime--gotta go.

Joel, congratulations on the photo illustration and the new computer. The picture capability has been a long time coming. Progress: it's a beautiful thing.

kb, see you tomorrow!

Great article about Donald McCaig, who has written a sequel to Gone With the Wind. I love his books about sheepdogs - and he's quite a character.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/11/06/AR2007110602499.html?hpid=features1&hpv=national&sid=ST2007110701226

I do have coals still in the woodstove after 11 hours and it is sort of warm in here....63......life is good again!!

When I was growing up, we had wood stoves so was everybody else in our village. Nearly every family had a few members working as rubber tappers. They either have their own rubber estate or they tapped for a big plantation own by b