Thursday, February 24, 2022

Here comes March...Updated

It's almost the end of February and that means that it is time for my wife's birthday and I'm in a quandary; I can't remember how old she she is now. She was born in 1943 and that makes it 79 years ago. But was it 79 years ago today and 78 years yesterday? Or 79 years ago yesterday and 80 years today? I could always just tell her to have a Happy Birthday and forget mentioning age altogether...

Yes, that's the answer. Art is what I should be talking about. There is no need to be discussing the atrocities happening in Ukraine. We went through all of this when we were in the 1st grade or kindergarten. There was always a bully on the playground and right now we have 3 bullies on the world playground, with the USSR determined to have their way while the USA and it's smaller gang are making noises, boo'ing and making threats. The PRC is isn't saying much but they will be in the USSR's corner, willing to help them. 

In the meantime, our President is making the appropriate noises but no actions. He seems to be determined to help the Republicans win the the midterms and if he jumps into the Ukraine, it's a certainty that the Democrats will lose, so he won't do anything dangerous and the USSR knows this. Amidst all of this, Ukrainians are dying.

Wasn't I supposed to be discussing art? I have two larger canvases out in the studio and I have been working on them, though it is taking me a long time to get anywhere near finished. A lot of the work requires a steady hand to paint some small lines and I can't paint small lines anymore. Heck, I can't paint any sized lines, my hands shake too much. I like these two paintings, though they are not the type of work I normally do. I have one more very large canvas to work on. It's still wrapped and untouched, also it's the last one, so there is a lot of pressure on me to make it a good one. Self induced pressure.  

My pulmonologist phoned me last night. What a great guy...I wish he was my GP.  When you visit him in his offices, he is focused on you and he doesn't put a computer between you. My cardiac surgeon is the same way...he doesn't even have a computer in the room with him. Back to my phone appointment... He has some new drugs for me; a new inhaler and some Prednisone for my coughing. 

If you are 81, you see a lot of doctors and have appointments all of the time. If you are me, I should say. I will be seeing my optometrist soon and I am eager to hear what she has to say about my sudden loss of vision clarity as well as the feeling that everywhere I look, it's dark, as if someone should turn on more lights. Maybe that is all that's needed, more lights! 

The lack of humidity is terrible. It's down to 26% here, in the front room. We have a pot of water on the stove and it's starting to boil. That will bring the number up very soon. I better look for a more economical way to raise the level. Our solar power system takes care of most electrical costs, but that boiling water is sitting on a gas range and gas is expensive these days.  Okay, I will look in the Amazon Warehouse for a good humidifier. I have a very slightly used 2 TB solid state hard drive arriving tomorrow and I bought it in the Warehouse for a good savings...okay, I found a humidifier for $10 off and it's missing a manual and the packaging is damaged. Manuals for everything  are found on-line. Why clutter your drawers with them. They are PDF files and are easily filed on your computer.

Update...It's been 2 hours since the humidity was at 26% and now it is 33% with the simmering pot on the stove. Back in the days when we used a wood stove to heat our house in Janesville, we always had a cast iron pot filled with water sitting on top.

Monday, January 31, 2022

As I said, I am writing for my descendants...

 ...but I should tell them something about their ancestors and we have quite a few. Of course every family has them, but I like to think that ours are special.  

I started using Ancestry dot com a long time ago. When I started they were using bare bones graphics and no choice of which font you would use. I was lacking a lot of facts so I just kept plugging away at it and using the 'hints' to correct a lot of the information I had gathered. Right now, it's a work in progress and I have no idea as to when I can say it's complete. The first blog was titled Projections because the word popped into my head when faced with the question of what to name it.

7,387 posts have been completed and posted so far. Google had no part in the majority of those posts and I really don't care for the way it looks and operates. Oh well, I'm just a cranky old man and nobody will listen to my complaints. Most people don't. I know that I have met some amazing people here on the blog. We met via our blogs and comments. Some we simply admired from afar.

I think I will start with my father's side of my family tree. Not for any specific reason; I guess I know more about them... 

I hope you can read these names and dates. Starting with my father, William Bernie Dunn; born in 1915 and died in 1980. he was born in Duluth Minnesota, an industrial town where large ships burdened with ore would dock. Duluth was located on Lake Superior. On the right is a photo of my dad at the age of 21. serious looking isn't he? 

 I am a Meyers-Briggs Type Facilitator. Yep, I even have a fancy piece of paper that I would show you if I could find it. You will just have to trust me. I didn't use any of our tools to determine his type, I used observation and I believe he was an INFP which is the same as mine. That makes it suspect, though a few of  the Type Indicators are obvious. He was an Introvert, through and through. He was also an iNtuitive in the medium range and I believe a weak Feeling and Perception. INFP's are just 4% of the population. I don't know about his childhood as he and the rest of his small family were abandoned by their father/husband (another story).   More later.

 I had better get busy here and publish something new. I have published hundreds of documents? letters? postings? texts? in the past but when I forget, I am lucky enough to have a sister that will remind me, in a gentle way, to get busy.

I received an e-mail from her this morning and she mentioned my writing for my descendants, which is exactly what I am doing on this blog, among other things. I also have a few blogs that were created for that purpose. Such as...Working' 'A Touch of Insanity' 'AhlDunn' 'Good Eats' 'Living'  'Short Laps' and New Peppers. 

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Catching up

1/10/22 (I thought I had published this...sorry Kitty)
...I am really behind in my blog posting. I hadn't realized it till got one of those spammers commenting on a post in the past. Some things never change and spam is one of those things. 
I suppose I can add an update on my twin grandchildren. In fact I should do that as it has been a long time since I last mentioned them. I have 5 other grandchildren but I must admit to a special bias here. Besides being our last grandchildren, they are twins, and then due to a messy end of marriage, we spent a lot of time being the ones in charge of their care during the time their father was at work. Despite our wishing that they remain babies, they graduated from high school and made plans for the next adventures in in their life. 
My granddaughter had spent the time in high school becoming a great wheelchair athlete in her free time on school breaks and weekends by participating in basketball games all over the north state and some tournaments in Texas. It was in Texas that she was noticed by coaches from the Adaptive Athletics program at the University of Arizona in Tucson. Her hard work and her dad being more than willing to get his daughter and her chair to all the distant games had made her a true athlete. (When you live in Susanville, everything is distant!) 
Her brother, my namesake, in more ways than I realized, had tried a JC to earn an AA degree but the JC wasn't for him so he decided to become a fireman...of course. He was accepted by a local fire crew and hoped to be training with them as soon as he finished a few wildland fire courses at the JC, so he was back at the school but with a goal. Then the fires of last summer struck the West and his firecrew was sent to Utah and a fire; one of many. He missed the training session with them and would have to wait till they were back. 
I must stop here...I will be back in the next morning. Old age has conspired with my muscles and after an hour or so I can't type a line without a mistake. That is why it has taken me 90 minutes to type what you see here...

Saturday, July 3, 2021

Imagine that

Imagine that... ...two posts in the same month. And I am going to include photos of 2 paintings I finished recently. Okay, I have included it. As I said, "I finished recently" but what is not stated, is when I started them. The one you see here was started at least a year ago. I have to sketch my ideas and then go back to edit the sketch while adding a heavier line around objects. When done, I repeat this, adding a heavier line and this time I use a Marks-a-Lot pen that will cover that line with a wider line. Now I can use an Art Gum eraser and clean up all the pencil marks I added while sketching and editing, this will give me a clean image to photograph. Using my trusty Google Pixel4 camera, I shoot as many pictures as I think will be needed and then add one more. These images will automatically upload to my Google pix account and from there, I download them to my Desktop and open my Sketchbook program. If I were going to add brush work, I would open
my Rebelle software, by Escape Motions, a small group of coders and developers with an office in Piešťany, Slovakia. With their innovations, they get a lot of attention in the Imaging Software world. If you want to see how they do it, here is a short video. Since my image file is a JPG file, Rebelle opens it and displays it on the screen. Now it's time to open up my Wacom tablet for final editing. I have a very small graphics tablet but it can easily work on very large paintings. You just 'tell' the program what size you want and it adjusts as needed. You want it smaller when you are through? 'Talk to the program' and it will happen. I can adjust everything in the painting by using the tablet and the pen. I used it here to do a final 'cleaning' and editing. I could have used thousands of different effects but I just added the colors and the sun and clouds. I could have made it night time with a full moon or a cloudy sky and a raging storm. Wacom seems to be the tablet of choice among graphics designers and digital Now, to the printing. I wanted it printed on aluminum. I had done it once before and I really like the effect you get. And it's cheaper. I searched locally with no success I wanted the 1st one to be 16x20 and I found a place in the Bay area that looked promising. With a first time coupon, it came to $65 more or less. The second and third one were 8x10 and much cheaper, plus free shipping for the 3 of them. They can print them much larger, but since it was the first time, I didn't want to have an expensive problem with them. the aluminum is very thin but still strong. They use color dyes on the metal just as if were paper. Now that it is hanging on my wall, I am thinking ? that if I ever sell the 16x20, I would print another but larger. Sell it? sure, $400 OBO over $350. The 8x10 will be $200 firm. The editing sotware that Blogger is using, is junk. I tried to get rid of the excess space at the end of the text. Could not do it. I have to admit that my coding skills have been eroded by time. I retired about 17 years ago and will be 81 in 2 months. But, so what! The software is supposed to be user friendly, no matter what age you are. Being owned by Amazon is probably the reason for the change in use-ability.

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

 It has been a long long time since I came to post. I should tell you that starting in December, I began losing my mind. I was in the hospital twice with pneumonia and it was during those times that my memory of all events failed me. At one point I was unable to walk and it must have been suggested that I would need a wheelchair. I now have 2 of them; one is for being pushed  and the other is self propelled. They have never been used. The last thing I remember is getting in an ambulance for a short ride across town to a 'Rehab' hospital where I was checked in to the quarantine area. It was then that we found out my wife and I would be separated by glass. We could use telephones to talk to one another. She would be standing or sitting on a chair in the bright sunlight while I would be sitting in the cool comfort of an air conditioned room. I have a lot of stories regarding the 'best rehab hospital' in Chico, but those are all for a different time. 

Monday, August 31, 2020

The last day.

 I'm 79. I've told you that plenty of times before, but today is a different kind of ageing for me. It's my last day as a youthful man of 79. Tomorrow, I will wake up (I hope) as an old man of 80 years. That's simply amazing to me. To most others, it's no big deal. All over the globe people are doing the very same thing. Not as many as the number entering the world 80 years ago. Some have dropped out early while others more recently  

How could I have attained such an age? I can't remember making it to an age and then telling myself " I sure hope I can make to 80". And today, my son announced that the State Disability Insurance people have ok'd his  surgery. He has had a tear in the muscle caused by a bone spur. This will be the second surgery for the problem. He works for the State and when he reported the continuing pain despite physical therapy. That was close to 3 years ago and they (the State) have sent him to a multitude of orthopods. Some of them were close to 200 miles away. My son had suggested some that were close to 10 miles away and others as far as 75 miles. They rejected all. of those. As the years went by, without a decision the condition of his shoulder deteriorated.

My son had another bit of news for us. He said that he would retire sometime during his recuperation. He wouldn't have to go back to the prison...oops, the correctional center. At the age of 51 with a full retirement, he will be looking into pursuing a new career. That bad shoulder will still belong to the state.

He will be glad to get away from the seniority system, as that never made sense to him and he refused to participate. He stayed a Corrections Officer for the duration. He had been urged by the Warden to take the Sergeant's exam and he took it to see if he could pass it. He did. Then stayed where he was. If he had become a Sergeant, he would lose his seniority and the shifts he needed. As a single dad, he needed to be home for the kids. Later he was asked to move up to Lieutenant, even Assistant Warden. The answer was always no and he doesn't regret it. In my career, I saw some seniority problems handled handled the right way. I was given a second check on payday, as the fact that I was an apprentice and being paid foreman's wages, made some of the journeyman angry. So my boss arranged for my payroll check to be reduced and I was sent the second check to cover the difference. The tension was reduced. 

In another case, one of the journeyman hadn't put in quite enough hours for a decent pension. He was very old and didn't always make good decisions. Yet we all enjoyed his company and when working, he tried as hard as the others. We were all working piecework And when we could, we hired him put all the screws in the board and to install all of the metal trim. Or ha could install all of the board in the closets. His was just  the first of this kind of behavior that I saw. Certainly not the last. 

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Thoughts regarding my day...

( This was written. about 3 weeks ago) Yes, I know it has been a long time since my last post. I did some posting on my blog "Working". Still that was brief. I suppose it's the quarantine that has me feeling this way. Depressed. I have depression, or better yet, depression has me, and has for many years. I take a drug for it, Wellbutrin, but it doesn't seem to work as well as it once did. Normally, I enjoy solitude, but now it's just my wife and I rattling around this large house. We are getting along fine with only rare moments of mutual frustration. We have daughters and grandchildren no more than 10 minutes away, but it might as well be a million miles away.  

We started this day with a brisk walk of 0.5 miles. I walked while gripping the handles of my bright red walker while my wife walked slowly behind me. That sounds terrible, I know.  But, she is not being subservient by walking behind me. One, she has a very bad knee that will be replaced as soon as it's safe to do so. Two, the sidewalk is narrow, not allowing two to walk together, if one is using a walker. About 2 weeks ago, I started walking, increasing the length by 100 feet, more or less. My goal is one mile and that will require some exploring of new neighborhoods.

When the quarantine started, I lost my exercise time that I had enjoyed with other members of the Pulmonary Rehab group at the Rehabilitation Center of our local hospital. It didn't take long for me to start losing muscle mass and strength. Depression, and the quarantine, had me sitting all day, doing nothing that was physically demanding. I did spend some time sketching, but nothing came of it. Now I spend my time trying to file all my photos and images. It has been tried before and nothing came of it. One major problem has turned up right away, and that is the duplicates I find. I am using the Photos program that Apple installs on its Mac's and it seems to create these duplicates, triplicates, and quadruplicates. Before I can file an image, I have to erase all the copies. Usually, they are all together and that helps me. As you can imagine, that doesn't leave a lot of time for blogs.

I try to avoid thinking about Trump. Thinking about him and being outraged by every utterance of his will do nothing. Biden has been using the right method, so far, in his campaign. He doesn't answer him. He ignores Trump and that is already infuriating him. Finally, a lot of people are beginning to ignore him. I think that Kamala will be using that same method of dealing with him. I have seen that when Trump loses his temper, he doesn't moderate his thoughts, and then he says things that reveal the real Trump that his staff and cabinet don't want to be seen by his adoring public.      


Saturday, June 20, 2020


America is losing its mind. Some citizens believe anything they see or hear. Fox News is the 'go to' place for those who will not or cannot read.  They never question why it is that one news organization has cornered the market on truth. 
Republicans, both plain and famed, are leaving the party every day, yet the party faithful are blind to that. They are also blind to the fact that the news can't report any similar defections from the Democrats, as there aren't any. They are blind to any fact that doesn't fit the Republican worldview.   
I was reading the New York Times this morning and that's why I feel this way 'America is losing its mind'. News from all over the globe tells the same story. Trump is mentally ill. Lots of people are handicapped with some form of mental illness. But, lots of people don't have the codes to start a nuclear war. Trump should not, but he does.
Right now, the Trump loyalists are certain that the antifa are creating all of this discord. The antifa and believers in Black Lives Matter. They know that those who believe in protest are actually ready to start the violence. Protest=Violence. That is the message being spread to Law Enforcement.  
Yet the police would be unable to tell you where the antifa meet to plan these things. They would be unable to locate the national, state, county and city headquarters of the antifa. And who are the leaders?  antifa is a heck of an organization if they can plan and pull off all sorts of violent acts, without any organization. In Coquille Oregon, the sheriff and concerned citizens with rifles, gathered downtown They planned for a bus load of antifa that were coming to spread terror in their little town. And that sheriff told the sheriffs of neighboring counties. They got ready as well. And then they waited and waited and waited...Then they told reporters that it was their unified show of force that stopped the antifa from showing up. And we lost our chance to see some real antifa as they would be forced off the bus and into the county jail. Another day...
I think I know why the Trump faithful act as they do; they don't read. Not even for enjoyment. And they never read anything that might upset their well established views, Their leader doesn't read and he seems to think less of those who do. So, even if an article looks interesting, they choose safety every time, and close the cover.I can tell it will be a long, long summer. Then fall will bring hints of violence on every Fox News show. It won't be a call to arms, yet. But it will reveal which direction the political winds are blowing and how hard.      

Thursday, June 4, 2020

Life is hard

Yes, life is hard, and then we have Trump. His latest defiance of of the Constitution is hard to believe, yet, there are a few more hours in the day. On Trump's orders, the Secret Service has blocked the pastor and her congregation from using their church...that church being St John's in Washington D.C. and across the street from the White House. There is no precedent for this action, and it violates the words of the 1st Amendment. This President has violated almost all the Amendments in just 31/2 short years. How can we afford another 4 years of this treasonous lack of leadership? 

They had to close down my Pulmonary Rehab classes for the virus, so I substituted reading for the physical activity. It doesn't make sense, I know that, and I did continue the exercise at home for about two weeks, and then my spine betrayed me once again. There is little to be done about it, as I am through with surgeries, and through with injection. I have spent the last 12 years with all of the above, so I know whereof I speak.

I've heard about the X, Y and Z generations. The Millennials. But I haven't heard much about the Me generation. It seems to span almost all age groups. They can be identified by their constant use of the words ''I" and "Me". And they rarely smile. My oldest daughter, owns a nursery and gift shop. She has required her employees to wear face masks and they face a daily barrage of questions and arguments about their use. They encourage the customers to keep a social distance, and wearing a face mask would be appreciated. She had an employee quit the job because of her mandatory rule. A rule meant to safeguard them. Elders almost almost always wear a mask when they enter, I guess we can rule them out as members of I and Me generation.  

Tuesday, March 31, 2020

The worst...ever

Trump. The absolute worst president in our history. And we have had some bad ones. Nixon and Jackson come to mind. There have been a lot of poor ones as well, Clinton and Dubya Bush qualify. Fact is, there were plenty of defective ones. Just as there are defective humans. But evil? That's Trump.
He lies constantly. Minute by minute, hour by hour, the lies mount up. Yet he refuses to admit an error, He never supplies evidence to support his claims. We're supposed to believe him just because he said it? Did you believe your 7 year old when they told an obvious fib, just because they were your 7 year old? If you did, you're a Trump fan. And 7 years old is where Trump's level of social intelligence lies.
And the claims that the mainstream media lies and it's all 'Fake News'? If that were true, the mainstream media would have been out of business 100 years ago. And we would be getting our news from supermarket tabloids and from our neighbors who heard it from another neighbor, and on and on. Why would anyone believe the 'Fake News' claim, when no evidence that it is fake, is produced?
Do average citizens believe anything they hear as long as it supports their established view? No they don't. They question it, as they should. 
I was born a cynic, so it's easy for me to question authority. I also know when to submit to authority. I am a Navy veteran, so I've seen my share of dumb authority. Now, what I see & hear from the White House isn't simply 'dumb', it is evil. Yes, it is time to make America great again, but we have to throw away the red hats and question why we thought we should wear them. 

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Memories Are Made of This

Memories! Ah!.. if only I could remember them! My short term memory is failing fast. Give me 4 numbers to remember and they have disappeared in seconds. Really! I need paper and pencil with me all of the time. But I can't remember to do that. I need some of those pocket sized, cheap note pads. The kind that are bound on a circular wire thing that I can't remember what it's called. I would have to buy them by the gross.
But now talk about long term memory and I can shine there. I'm depending on it right now; my son bought me a 400 piece jigsaw puzzle and it's been made by, a company in England, or maybe Great Britain. I'm always confused by that. The puzzle is made with a full color map from Google Earth that covers the place where I grew up in the 40's and 50's, Manhattan Beach. I need my memory to help me locate the streets that will connect all parts of the South Bay Beach cities. The box has no cover picture of the contents to help you, so you are on your own, and your memory. Heck, I can go to Google Earth and look it up myself, then print it. There goes a lot of the memory worries right there.
Now I remember... spiral binding! There is even a great sci-fi series I'm reading, where the focus of the book is/are The Spiral Wars. I should remember it, why didn't I?

Catching Up

It has been about a month since the last post here. So it's time for me to unload on to the blog again. I suppose this blog is more like a diary than anything else.
As usual, there are a lot of health items. No one told us about this 'aging' process, or if they did, we weren't listening. My early career choices have come back to haunt me. Hanging drywall and being paid for it on a piecework basis. For every 4'x12' sheet of drywall (sheetrock) I put on the wall and nailed it there, would pay me 72 cents. I was in the Carpenter's Union at the time regular pay was $5 an hour, or $40 a day. I would only have to hang 55 sheets to equal that. That's easy! I could hang 8 sheets an hour easily... because I was young an  very dumb. What that was doing to my spine was not apparent until I was in my late 60's. Then I learned in a hurry. Now, 11 years after that first surgery to fuse 3 vertebra, I have followed up with 4 more surgeries and numerous injections, all to no avail; the pain remains.
Last Monday, I slid into the MRI tube once more. I have done that 11 times. An x-ray taken a month ago revealed that my thoracic spine is falling apart. Compression fractures and bone thinning are the culprits this time.  I have told my neurosurgeon that surgery wasn't going to happen this time. He agreed. Yesterday I was back at the radiology place for a CTA scan . This was to measure my aneurysm of the ascending aorta. I have scans every 3 months and this was my 6th scan or x-ray. I should be nervous about it, but that won't do anything, so I ignore it.
Besides a neurosurgeon, I have a neurologist, a urologist, a pulmonary doc, a thoracic surgeon, a dermatologist, a pain doc, the family doc and half a dozen others that are not currently active in my medical world, but they have been.
Yes, the 'Golden Years' are made of fool's gold. This all sounds very depressing and I must admit that I suffer from depression and take a drug for it. But, when being honest, I would not change my life. I wouldn't mind doing a little editing, but overall, my life brings me joy. The woman I share this life with and our children, grandchildren and even a great grandchild bring me a great deal of that joy.

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Live bait

I just did a quick check of my blog and I didn't find any mention of fishing. Strange? Maybe I missed it. Well, I will continue with my fishing stories. Or begin. My father fished, ergo I fished. I used to go with him as a youngster of 7 or 8.  My favorite times were when he and I went 'deep sea' fishing. Getting up early and getting dressed quietly with as little light as possible.We didn't want to wake my sisters. Then we would drive to San Pedro and get aboard a 'party boat'. Not that kind of party... it was a party of 25 or 30 fishermen. Dad would carry the tackle box and his pole. We would rent one for me. Once loaded up, the deck hand would cast off and the Captain would pull away from the dock and make his way down the channel to a live bait boat and order enough sardines to put in the live bait well. We had to go past the Copra processing plant where the smell would make you glad that you didn't have breakfast.Iit wasn't long after that, that we were leaving the calm waters of the port and facing the heavy swells of the Pacific. I'm one of those people that never gets seasick, so I was enjoying the ride. Some didn't. These day long 'party boats' would usually find fish in the Catalina channel. It wasn't very deep in lots of places and so the Skipper (Captain) would anchor if he saw any fish on his 'fish finder' screen, or if he heard anything good on the radio between all the other boats out in the in the channel. We would put an anchovy on the hook and let the line out. If they had been catching Halibut, we would let the bait go to the bottom. Otherwise, we would listen to the skipper or deck hand's advise as to how deep we should position our bait. Then, we waited.The boat going up and down. The sun slowly rising. It was beautiful! On some of the party boats there would be a galley where you could order ham & eggs plus toast for breakfast. Some boats sold sandwiches and pastries. With any luck we would be too busy to eat. Busy hooking and fighting fish to the surface. There, the deck hand would gaff the fish and put it into your sack for you.  If there were a lot of fish being caught, he would drop your fish on the deck and move on to another lucky fisherman. All during this time the boat was going up and down (pitching) and often with a yaw, or going up and down with a twist to the right or left. A frequent and combined, plus steep, pitch and yaw would often send people over to the railing where they would lose whatever was in their stomach. As long as you were busy catching fish, the motion of the boat usually wasn't noticeable. When we weren't catching fish, the deck hand would stand atop the live bait tank with a small scoop net and throw anchovy in the sea around us. Chumming, as it's called, is to attract any of the larger game fish such as Tuna, Yellowtail and Albacore. If we were lucky enough to be in the middle of a school of these fish, fishermen would be catching fish right and left and the deckhand would be very, very busy. Sometimes the Skipper would have to climb down from his post at the helm and help him out....

...More about fishing later.

Politics as usual

I just received a Christmas greeting from one of my US Senators. That sparked a thought. (at my age I am happy to get any kind of a spark in my brain) My thought was...why does anyone think that having 2 Senators for states with large populations is fair? Of course it isn't. The Founding Fathers had no idea that the U.S. would end up with more than 350+ million people living in 50 States. I know that I am not adequately represented. This State, California, should have at least 4 Senators and 6 would be fair. Will this idea (it's been brought up before) ever have a chance of being implemented? Of course not! Republicans and the smaller states would bury the thought...

Thursday, December 19, 2019

Ah! Coffee...

What an amazing morning! I had an 8:00 appointment at the DMV and I was home and pouring a coffee by 8:30. Earlier in the year, I had applied for a renewal of my license and I had planned on getting the Federal RealID stamp on it. But, unknown to myself, my birth certificate, the one I had used for years, was no good…it was a copy. It did not have purple ink on the signature of a long dead bureaucrat. But, the exceptional DMV clerk told us how to get the real one and she even gave us an early appointment for today. We filled out all the paperwork needed right then and kept it with us until today. I think it cost us close to $60 to get a new and real, purple ink, birth certificate from Los Angeles County. With that in hand, plus the other completed paperwork, we sailed through the dreaded process. Plus, the earlier clerk gave us a tip and said I should ask for a Senior ID instead of having my drivers license re-issued. The Senior ID will come with the Federal stamp on it, plus it’s free and lasts for 10 years. So, if I give up driving I still have the ID necessary to fly. I can’t imagine wanting to fly again; I did it for too many years and for too many miles, in my previous life. The ‘flying’ was one of the reasons for my taking an early retirement. The ‘Golden Age’ of flying is long gone and only people my age or older can remember it.

Friday, December 6, 2019

Leaves, leaves, leaves and more leaves

The city of Chico is in the leaf removal business. All the homeowner has to do is rake the leaves up and put them in a pile next to the curb. The city comes along with dump truck and a tractor equipped to scoop up the leaves and put them in the truck. Once filled, the truck then goes to the site where they make compost of it all. This year it seems as if the leaves are overpowering the collectors. They even have a 2 block long space on a nearby road, dedicated to the dumping of leaves. This space is used by the commercial 'mow and blow' people and they fill it up every 2 days. Everywhere I go in the city, the leaves are piled high. We have a landscaper that comes by twice a year; fall & winter, to collect leaves and cleanup, then in February he will prune all the trees and shrubs. He left us yesterday with his trailer piled high with our leaves. And our trees, the neighbors trees and ? any other trees are still dropping leaves. It never ends...


I would like to be positive. Really, I would like to be.  But it is proving to be  difficult, as all of the news I get from my doctors is negative and my body just keeps falling apart. That wonderful life I enjoyed while working in construction keeps coming back to bite me. I know I've said it before, but I worked in the drywall & steel stud trade. I worked almost exclusively in commercial work, such as hospitals, office buildings and high rise buildings. Of course, I smoked. I had been since I was 17. I joined the Navy when I was 19, and smoking with a cup of coffee in hand is an old Navy tradition. Well, the coffee is for sure. I quit smoking about 40 years ago, but some damage was already done. The commercial work did even more damage to my lungs. Now I have COPD and I'm enrolled in a Pulmonary Rehab program at the local hospital. 3 times a week I can be found doing exercises with a small group of others with COPD or worse lung problems. We also do balance exercises, such as standing for 30 seconds with your feet heel to toe. I have to be next to something solid that I can hold onto while we do this. I try not to hold on, but after 10, 15 seconds I have to grab it. And I can only think of what I used to do, up high on a building, walking across narrow beams or standing on the edge of the building while holding a panel as the crane operator slowly swung it towards you while the wind tried to take it away.  I would have died if I had the sense of balance I have now. Now, in the exercise room, with both feet solidly on the carpet, I am probably the only one there that sees the ground, 100' below him.
On a different subject; I am spending most days collecting and filing old photo files of Los Angeles and the surrounding areas. That includes the Los Angeles Aqueduct project, all the way up to the Mono Basin and Mono Lake. I probably have over 6,000 images filed away and I continue to find more of them. I know that sounds like OCS, but, it's actually autism. I found a website, Water and Power Associates, and they have thousands of images. And they have little nuggets of history along with the photos. But, there is a problem with all of this. My expensive (at the time) MacBook Pro is failing; and I have most of my photos on it. First, the Photos program stopped working altogether. Oh no! I researched on-line for a cure, for days without success. Then, I tried a simple hint and rebooted into Safe mode, opened Photos, closed it and then rebooted. Photos came back! Great news but a week later I lost all of my keyboard shortcuts, such as Cmd-C for Copy and Cmd -V for paste.

Plus all of the rest. I tried rebooting again. It worked...for about 2 weeks.Reboot again and this time it was cured for about a week. Now, it only works for a day or two. The Photos program is shaky but it is working 90% of the time. In the meantime, I am trying to move all of the rest of my photo files (36,000) to a stand alone hard drive with 4 TB of space. I would move them onto a new MacBook Pro, but the price is prohibitive. The same computer is now $500 more than what I paid, 5 years ago.

Here on the right is a 1910 photo of the steam pump belonging to Los Angeles Fire Dept. Engine Company #9 as it is pulled out of the fire house by 3 sturdy fire horses. I love these old photos, and I am sad that I never took very many photos of where I was working during my 48 year career. I have a blog "Working" and I have hopes that my children & grandchildren will read it someday. While I was working, I never seemed to have time to talk to my children about all of the things I did. They knew what I did, in a vague sort of way. my middle daughter worked for me as a secretary during the big Sierra Pacific Power Co, job. But most of the time she was stuck in our jobsite trailer, filing correspondence. My son worked for a fastener sales company, where for a year or so he sold screws, shots and pins for powder actuated fasteners, plus an assortment of safety equipment. Again, his exposure to my kind of work was limited. My blog isn't complete, but it is a good description of what I did for a living. I know I would have loved to know what my mom and dad did, before and after I was born in 1940. And my grandparents; I only know the titles for the work they did. One grandfather was a 'Timber Cruiser' in Minnesota and later, a farmer in Oregon. My other grandfather worked for a finance company, GM Acceptance Corp. I have the gold watch he received. But I would rather have his story...

Thursday, November 14, 2019

So much... think about these days. We have a pig in the White House and other pigs scattered throughout the upper echelons of government. He has to go... Hopefully, those that protest but never vote, will see that it's a mistake to never vote and will come out and do their civic duty.
Civic duty is something that's rarely heard anymore. Maybe we need a law that makes voting mandatory. Australia does. And the citizens haven't rioted there. And if we had a program like the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC, once again, I believe everyone would have a better idea of what civic duty was.
Perhaps compulsory military service would help us become a better nation. I know that not all can be soldiers or sailors, but all could be of service.
Many years ago, I volunteered to be a sailor. I joined the Navy. I stood before the flag and swore to preserve and protect the Constitution. This Country. I missed the Vietnam war by just a hair breadth. And I knew that the war was a mistake, a terrible mistake. If I had been held in Service for another month, I would have gone to that war. And as an E-5 HM2, attached to the Marine Corps, my survival chances would have been low. My wife and I were very much afraid, waiting for that letter from the Navy command that would recall me to service. Now, when I see or hear someone bragging about their patriotism, I wonder if they have ever gone to the recruiting office to volunteer for military service? If they have not, their patriotism is hollow. Patriots don't brag.
I was just reading about the tragedy in Japan. A tragedy that is rarely talked about. Because of the Fukushima disaster, Japan shut down all of their nuclear power plants and now use coal and gas to power the plants. Their carbon output went from the low 60% and is close to 90%. The U.S. is not much better off. Ever since the accident at 3 Mile Island, politicians have placed their heads in the sand and ignored common sense and science. No new nuclear power plants since then.
I was writing about a tragedy, and the tragedy is the number of deaths caused by lung disease. Preventable deaths. Unfortunately, we can't see the contaminants in the air. Contaminants produced by carbon powered generation  plants. Still, seen or unseen, they end up in our lungs where they build up until they shut down the alveoli that are part of the mechanism that transfers oxygen to our blood.
There are already plenty of people warning us about these dangers, still we refuse to look at nuclear power as the clean source of power. Accidents happen. People die. So why haven't we outlawed motor vehicles and mandated the use of bicycles? Ignorance is the cause for the accidents and that can be remedied; much as we are reducing the cause of motor vehicle accidents and deaths by mandating safer vehicles. Blah, blah,'s all just noise until the politicians take their heads out of the sand and pay attention to the scientists.

Sunday, November 3, 2019

Time really goes a hurry!

It's hard to believe that 4 months have gone by since my last post here. In that time I did post some things to my Working blog, though I seem to have completed a written history of my working life there. I should say that I really enjoyed working. I suppose that's easy to say from the refuge of the retired life. I suppose there is some truth to that...
I started working early, as my parents were not giving me any additional funds beyond my .25 cents a week allowance. And I did not get the allowance unless I helped with the dishes; that's washing or drying. I had to take the trash out and clean my room, at least once a week. And...I had to mow the lawns. Of course I felt put upon, and I was certain that no other child was so mistreated as I was. But, my parents didn't budge. Instead they suggested ways for me to make money by working for others. I began by mowing lawns for neighbors. And it was at that point that I began my working life. rounds
My wife and I had similar working backgrounds, though she is 3 years younger. I like to think that created a culture within our small family where working was expected of our children. They are now middle aged and my oldest daughter has a grandchild. And all 3 of them have been and continue to be successful. My daughters have always held 2 jobs, raising children while running a household, and they worked outside the house as well. My oldest was a Single mother while earning her degree from the University here. My son didn't follow me into construction, which was a good thing. He has been an amazing single-dad, working full time while raising his twins from infancy; they are now starting their Junior year in high school.
I don't think all of this was good luck, I really believe it's genetic in origin. And when I read the stories of my grandparents, great grandparents and beyond, I am certain of it. So I have to thank some nameless ancestor for all that has come to us. He, more likely she, gave us the gene to pass along and we have.

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Enough about me...

Let me talk about my granddaughter, Abby. I may have mentioned, a long time ago?, that she was struck with a terrible affliction, Acute Flaccid Myelitis, or AFM. She was one of 100+ people in the US that were affected by it that year. And the statistics for the number of cases of AFM are very much the same, year after year. She was 13 at the time, and was going to be a freshman in high school in the fall, when she woke up early one morning, in great pain, and unable to move her legs. A long story, but after a wild ride in an ambulance for 2+ hours (the weather kept the airplane grounded) she arrived at UC Davis Medical Center where she was stabilized and then given this this terrible diagnosis. Weeks later and she was moved across the street to the Shriners Hospital for Children. More therapy and more pain for her. She remained smiling and very brave throughout all of this, though she saw her place on the high school volleyball team disappear and her weekly visits to Reno for gymnastics were gone. She was given her first wheelchair and adapted to it quickly and began her new life in high school.

Three plus years have now gone by and Abby just finished up her third year of camp with Ability First. This group leads a camp for children with disabilities and it's been a miracle worker for Abby. She changed immediately after her first camp. She came back with a 'can do' spirit that never left her. She now has a drivers license and car with hand controls. She is a member of the Track and Field team for the high school where she competes in Discus and Shot Put. At her second year of camp, she was given a scholarship for a brand new, custom made, Box chair. Mike Box is well known for his wheelchairs for athletes. She made a trip to Texas to compete in some wheelchair basketball games with her new chair. This year, in camp, she was able to master the single water ski (it has a chair) without any help at all. I have a video of her jumping the wake many times as the boat went down the lake. When she got home from camp, she and her father put her new racing wheelchair together. Her father had applied for a grant to buy this chair and this will enable her to become a full member of the Track and Field team. This week she returns to Texas for more basketball. She has one more year of Ability First camp before she is aged out at age 18, but they have already asked her to return as part of the staff for camp. She has been an inspiration and friend for many of the younger campers.

During the past 3 years there have been many more stories and tears along with the smiles. That's life, isn't it? As her grandfather, I would give anything to see her walking and running once again. But that's not going to happen. And she knows it, so she is moving forward with her life. She has the beginnings of a photography business; she has an eye for design and art. And I need to include the fact that she and her date went to the Senior Ball this year!

Friday, June 21, 2019

Time does go by...

I was reminded of a blog that I once followed faithfully, Time Goes By written by Ronni Bennet. During the time I wasn't reading her blog, she managed to fight off pancreatic cancer, surviving a major surgery in the process. Yes, time happens to us all. And I was reminded of that last night when I went to the local high school gym to watch my granddaughter play a game of indoor rugby in a wheelchair. The Chico State University rugby team were in wheelchairs temporarily while my granddaughter is in hers permanently. This is her third year attending the Ability First camp that arranges a full week of physical activity for a group of young people (under 18) that wouldn't normally be able to do. Waterskiing, tennis and rugby are just some of the activities. These kids come alive! But, I was unable to make it through the whole game. The pain in my hip was unrelenting and the heat and humidity undid me! My wife took me home. That's when I started thinking about the fact that it was just 11 years ago that I first felt the hip pain that changed my life. I was circling the park, training for my 6th marathon when I felt it. Within weeks the pain increased. I saw a doctor and he sent me to see another doctor. I had x-rays and MRI's, plus a few CT scans. Then a second opinion. The pain continued to increase. I saw pain specialists and acupuncturists. Still, the pain increased. It was soon unbearable. Then a surgery. The pain abated for a few weeks and then returned as I became more active. Another surgery. Pain was reduced but not gone. Another surgery for a spinal cord stimulator installation. Later, another surgery move it to a different location. Finally, another surgery to remove it altogether. The pain remains. Without the constant exercise that racing demanded, COPD showed up. And time went by....
Now I'm an elder that feels sorry for himself too often. 

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Black and White

I have been collecting digital photos and images for a long time now. I have 32,461 of them filed and identified. I have more that have not been filed and I have hopes of getting that done before I leave. I think there must be another 10,000, scattered throughout my electronic devices. Plus, I am not through collecting them. Being autistic, it's something to do.

I just finished collecting and filing away a large trove of photos of the Saline Valley and the the industry there. First, the Saline Valley is a the location of a fairly large and very shallow salt lake. This valley is located in a very remote section of Eastern California. There is a mountain range, the Inyo mountains, between this lake and Owens Lake; now a dry lake that the city of Los Angeles sucked dry. At the time of my story here, Owens Lake was full of water and had a steamship making runs from one end to the other.

In the early 1900's, some businessmen saw a market for the salt in this remote location. No one, that they knew of, lived there and there was only one, very bad road road, in and out of the valley. But, tramways were being used to transport ore in the gold and silver mining districts throughout California and Nevada; there didn't seem to be any reason not to do the same thing with salt. There was just one barrier, the Inyo Mountains. The tram would have to climb up 7,000 feet on one side and descend 5,000 feet on the other (Owens Lake) side. To make it even more difficult, it couldn't be in a straight line. They would have to build 'Crossover Stations' wherever the tramway had to change direction. Since this was in the earliest part of the 20th century, almost everything would be hand built and built of wood. All constructed without the benefit of tools, such as saws and drills, that were powered by electricity. They also had to build 'Dead Men', which were large wooden structures that, once they were filled with rocks for weight, were designed to hold the cable and the other structures - down, and in place.  The weight of the cable, plus the salt and the gondolas, could rip the supporting structures apart when traveling down a ravine before heading back up.   

The website that holds all of this history and much more, can be found at this link
It's an amazing website that does a good job of covering the story of the Owens Valley without becoming mired in the drama of the Los Angeles theft of the valley's water resources. As I said earlier, I collect old b&w photos for my personal use, and I would bet that I found 500 photos throughout the website. The photos elicit great memories for me as I have traveled up and down El Camino Sierra for many years. My Dad would take me to Twin Lakes each year for the Sierra Trout Season Opening Day. We would stop at most of the small towns along the way. He would recount to me the abuses of the Japanese Relocation to Manzanar. Manzanar is Spanish for 'the place for apples'. I doubt there are are any apple trees left. He took me to an 'upside down' Tungsten mine  just outside of Bishop, where you enter at the bottom and take the elevator to various levels of the mine. As a family, I have taken them to Mono Lake and camping at Twin Lakes. Technically, these places are not in the Owens Valley, but they are in my heart.

Saturday, May 11, 2019

Now, where am I?

I was engaged in one of my favorite things to do this morning, looking for memories by searching through old photos on the many webpages for the Owens Valley. I came across this link for historical maps put out by the USGS. On that website they have an amazing number of old topo maps, all in a PDF format, or in XML for Excel spreadsheets. I picked one at random, a map of the Doyle, CA area, one of three. That's a portion of it on the right. It looks just like one of the paper maps of that area that I bought about 40 years ago. I guess that makes it historical, now I have to wonder, am I historical as well?
Probably not. I do remember having a large roll of these maps stashed behind the seat of my pickup truck and I would use one or another of them on most weekends, when I would be out exploring in Lassen County. If I were going to be in an area that I had no map for, I would buy it at one of the big sporting goods stores in Reno. If I couldn't find it that way, I would send away for it at the USGS headquarters in Washington, D.C. I would usually buy two or three maps of the adjoining areas, just in case! My collection of maps grew steadily, and more and more fragile as the years went by. I used a lot of cellophane tape on those maps, just to keep them useable.
The downloads are  very fast and are free. I have not tried pried printing them, in any case, I don't have a large format printer, so the best I could do would produce legal sized map. Still, that's all I need for my travels while sitting on this couch.  Here is the link again...

Thursday, May 9, 2019

There's always a critic!

And that would be me. I wish it wasn't true, but I do tend to see everything in a critical light. It's part of my deep cynicism and yesterday that criticism was being projected at some 'artwork' at our local community art gallery. It was a new show in a yearly series, where 3 artists are given gallery exposure for perhaps the first time. This years artists were certainly different from what we have seen in the past. One 'artist' had suspended 8 sections of a white picket fence gate from the ceiling. They were parallel and about 3 feet apart. They were about 5' long and had hinge and latches on them; they were suspended so that they just touched the floor. There was no explanation for them. They simply 'were'. A second artist had used quotes from famous people and had pasted marked up photos onto dinner plates. The images were supposed to be a comment on the quotations. There might have been 10 of the plates hanging on a short section of the wall. The images and the quotation combined were very humorous, but that is all that they were. Another artist had used colored pencil to draw homoerotic images of himself. He had great skill in his use of colored pencils. But,  I saw far too much of the artist and nothing that showed skill in the making of art.

I know that criticising art is dangerous...but someone has to do it!

Friday, April 19, 2019

Hard work

I'm just back from my hour at the gym and as usual, my muscles are overwhelmed by the whole experience. We go to a fairly large gym, but it does have a Senior Wellness program where you can use a limited amount of equipment and only 3 days a week, for 4 hours each day. All for a limited price. We decided to join about 7 years ago and it has become a good habit for us. Before all of my mishaps and hospital stays, I would use the gym for 2 and 1/2 hours and then the pool for water aerobics and another 45 minutes. 4 or 5 years ago I had become very fit and I was quite proud of it. "Pride goeth before a fall" is the saying I remember and it certainly applies to me. After attending a pulmonary rehab program for 8 weeks I knew I had to get back into shape. It has been challenging to say the least. I get onto the treadmill and begin walking. About 6 weeks ago I was walking at 2.4 mph for 30 minutes, followed by 15 minutes on a device called a NuStep. All cardio/pulmonary exercises. I am finally up to 2.9 mph and have switched to resistance machines to gain some muscles. All the  time that I am exercising, I am monitoring my pulse and my blood oxygen levels. My pulse is coming back to its old levels of 80 to 85 after 30 minutes on the treadmill. Back when I was doing marathons, I was able to keep my pulse at 80 for close to the entire race. But that was 'then' and then was 13 years ago.

Gyms are funny places once you get past the intimidation period. Gym are usually crowded and noisy with some people sweating over weights while you hear the 'clang' of dropped weights. There's lots of 'posing' in front of mirrors while muscles are flexed. But, if you get past that and stick around for awhile, you see that there is a lot more to the gym. There are people in their 90's here along with a crowd aged 30+. There are lots of overweight and unfit citizens as well as people using walkers. And there's me; aged, long gray hair and using a cane. And, while you use the treadmill, you get an elevated view of the gym and its occupants for 30 minutes. If you are a 'people watcher' this is a great place for it. I think I could write a book about the people and their habits. For instance, there are the 'Fitness Flit'ers' that flit from one machine to the next, never staying longer than 2 minutes. I watch them, wondering if they will ever land on one they like. They usually travel in pairs and have headphones attached to their phones. At the same time they carry on a lengthy conversation with their fellow Flit'er. Some people come to occupy a machine while they fiddle with their phones, listening to music or a podcast. They never exercise. Then there are those that love to gather in larger groups, 4 or 5, and discuss world events or whatever, all sitting on or draped across the equipment and using very loud voices. And then there's me...I don't know what group others would put me in, but I'm sure I have been categorized by someone watching, just as I do.       

Monday, April 8, 2019

Very Colorful

My photos are being printed at Costco, even as I type. The 5x7 photos are the end product of my integrating Sketchbook and Rebelle software with my imagination. I have published a dozen or more of the 26 prints on my Instagram page, where I hope to get some favorable comments on them. Even unfavorable comments will be accepted gratefully; as long as they are not from any of the "Haters" that seem to infest the 'net these days.

I'm hoping to see what kind of a market there might be for some of these 5x7's to be printed on a 16x20 sheet of aluminum. The process of printing on aluminum seems to give the image a glow, not seen when processing on photographic paper.

Printing on aluminum is not cheap, so if I sell some of them that cost has to be covered as well as for my talent!

On another subject; my youngest granddaughter. She is confined to a wheelchair and has been for close to 2 1/2 years. She started her high school freshman year in that chair and she will graduate in it. She will have her drivers license this week or maybe it was last week? She does have an older Explorer with hand controls, so she will be just as mobile as her twin brother. About two weeks ago we were able to see her when the high school track team made the long journey down out of the mountains to compete in a local high school invitational meet. Yes, she is on the track team, a  junior varsity discus and shotput member of the team. At the end of the day she had her personal best discus throw but she was unhappy with her shotput attempts. A few days later we got the news that she had just received a grant for a racing wheelchair and had been measured for it. It will be built for her and she will be on the track team next year, as well as the field sports. She is one happy young woman. And she has plenty of reason for that; last summer, at the camp for challenged youth, she received a scholarship for a custom chair, built for sports such as basketball and indoor rugby. That's now her daily wheelchair. It's a good thing that her Explorer has enough room in it for her two chairs and all of her sports gear. 

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Amazing. Simply Amazing.

"The Report" has been given to the Justice Dept. No one else. The Attorney General has delivered a 4 page recap of the findings as he sees them. That's it. More and more of the Trumpians, including Trump, have decided. They don't need to know anymore. If the Democrats don't roll over, as they are wont to do, the fight has just begun. 

Saturday, March 16, 2019

What a waste...of time and energy.

I'm referring to my last post where I complained about the idiot in charge. It hurts my head  to complain about him. I can complain all I want but nothing will change until the people of this country gather up the courage we need to change it. The Democrats have entered into their self-destruction mode, as they usually do, just when we need them. How long ago was it that I left that party? At least 15 years ago. And when I left them, I did not make a turn to the Right. I'm not stupid!

I started the morning a little differently than usual. I watched a YouTube video of one abstract artist interviewing another abstract artist about the process of abstract painting...for them. I am an abstract artist, so I was able to relate to the conversation. The interview lasted a little over 48 minutes, so a lot was covered in that time. One thing that stuck with me was how and why they loved to paint 'Large'. That is something I crave. I have 3 or 4 canvases that are approximately 3'x4' and that is as big as I have been able to afford. One of those canvases is sitting on my easel right now. But...I can't paint in my studio anymore; or, at least for now.  My constant hip pain makes standing at an easel for any length of time, next to impossible. I may have mentioned once before that I have been painting digitally/electronically. I have a couple of good programs on my computer and after I have 'painted', I will send the files (jpg or bmp) to Costco to be printed as a 5x7 photo. Then I review them and go back to the original file to make any corrections I think they need. I have framed some of the good ones and have them hanging around the house. At the end of last year I became brave enough to order a larger print of a painting. My sister had seen one of my 5x7's and told me how much she liked it, so I decided to print it on 16x20 aluminum. It was outstanding! I used Costco for this printing and they do a nice job of it, adding a French cleat all of the way way around the back of it. I sent it off to her and she was thrilled to see it. But...16x20 is as big as Costco will print on aluminum. I will have to search around town to see if anyone else is doing larger prints on aluminum.

Money is the problem, as it always is. A 5x7 photo is about .60 cents and a 16x20 print is $60. With no refunds if it didn't turn out as you had hoped. A 3'x4' canvas can be $50, but, if it doesn't turn out as you wished, you cover it with gesso and start over.

So, the hunt is on to find another painting worthy of a $60 gamble. I have been going through my files and picking out some that might make the cut. Those I will tweak and print once more as a 5x7 photo print to see if I am on the right track. I am also painting some from scratch to see if I can come up with the magic to make them candidates as well. My one software program, Rebelle 3.2, allows me to tilt my 'canvas' and let the 'paint' flow in any direction I want. I can put as much paint as I want on my brush and I can wet the canvas as well as dry it. I can use acrylics, watercolors, oils, pastels and airbrush, by themselves or in combinations. I have thousands of brushes to choose from and I can choose the opacity as well as the pressure. I can use my other program, SketchBook, along with Rebelle. Each has their strengths and each is very powerful on its own. Now I have a third program and that's Affinity Photo; a poor man's Photoshop. I can use that to correct the image. No, you don't push a key and get a painting. You actually have to work at it and it's a lot of work. The big advantage you have with digital painting is that you don't have to get paint out of your hair or off of your clothes. And it doesn't smell.

Krista Harris Interview 

Friday, February 15, 2019


What a terrible day. Trump/Hannity have gone too far. Once again... when will Congress remind him that he is but 1/3 of the power in our government. Will the people have to remind him? After all, the people are the ultimate power in this country. 

Sunday, February 10, 2019

And another month is well upon us

Another month and new beginnings for me. I finished my 8 weeks of Pulmonary Rehabilitation and I know how to breathe now; it's in through your nose and out through your mouth with your lips pursed. That's hard to turn that into an unconscious habit. But, I'm trying.

I also began driving once more. My pain hasn't left me but I am well aware of any deficiencies I might have after taking pain meds and I'm comfortable with that. Being able to drive again gives me an incredible feeling of freedom. I don't go very far, just to the gym and back  3 times a week. And I go to the Art Center once a week. A distance of 4.5 miles. The gym has made me stronger but I have a long way to go if I want to make it back to my prior life. I started Rehab by walking at 1.2 mph on the treadmill. In 8 weeks I was able to double that and that - 2.4 mph - is where I am. I use a pulse oximeter every few minutes while exercising and it's my blood oxygen levels that I watch. When they get down to 91, I slow down a notch until I have it back into the range of 93 - 95. Because of my prior marathon training, my pulse rarely goes over 85. The last time I was in the gym, before I ended up in the hospital a few times, I was doing 4 mph and going up a 3 % grade with no problem.

The valley is free of smoke these days and there is talk of rebuilding Paradise after the Camp Fire. I would be surprised if that idea had more than a few followers. The fire exposed a lot of sins in its path. No sewers is a big one. There is the rebuilding of there water service. And there were numerous illegal dwellings as well as roads to serve those houses. Building codes weren't always enforced. I am reminded of the fire every morning when I open the door to let the cat out; the early morning air smells like a fire that has been extinguished with water. 

I was using my nebulizer a little while ago, something I do 3 times a day using Albuterol to expand the airways of my lungs. As I was using it I was reminded of my mother having one for me when I was quite young and had asthma. The nebulizer was made of glass. The one I use today is made from some type of medical grade plastic. I was struck by the fact that we didn't have plastic in the early 40's. I'm sure there was some kind of plastic around then but it wasn't an ordinary consumer item. Bakelite was a type of plastic material and one of its uses was making jewelry, such as bracelets. I 1940 Ford had no plastic except for the Bakelite used for the distributor, coil and other parts that were in close contact with electricity. I am sure I have forgotten some other uses but I do know that plastics were not commonplace and glass was. Every once in awhile I will see some current use object and then find out that it has been around for longer than I have. I am always surprised...

Saturday, February 2, 2019

A new month

A few good things to report; I have been going to Pulmonary Rehab and I have just one week left. I am stronger and I have lost about 6 pounds. I have also started going back to the gym on the days when I am not going to Rehab. All good. Some negatives; it's very difficult to finish the tax preparations as we are missing some vital statements. They will show up eventually and the reason they are late mailing them is the complex Tax bill that benefitted only a few. No Congressman looked at this bill, investigated it to see what was in it. They were all Republican loyalists, representing only themselves. This will go on for years unless we can elect Representatives & Senators with ethics.

I was looking through Flickr this morning; looking for photos of the local area. I found a local professional photographers (Anthony Dunn) Flickr page and saw some great photos that I can use. It wasn't until I was near the end, that I saw a photo of his address. It was in Paradise. He had photos of his house and it was located deep in the forest. He had a lot of equipment, including a drone for his aerial shots. There were no current photos, so I don't know if he and his house survived. I will post some of the photos here. 

This is Bidwell Park in the Fall. I used to train in the park back in those days when I did marathons for a hobby. It's a huge park and it would take me an hour or more to go around the park at a 13 minute mile pace. And that was just Lower Park. Upper Park is much larger.

This is a bridge over Big Chico Creek in Bidwell Park. The bridge is made with Cor-Ten steel and is naturally a rust brown color. It won't rust and will remain this color without the need for paint. There are 3 of these bridges in the park that I know of.       

This is a great shot of the Big Chico Creek in the Fall. All of these photos were taken and posted on Flickr by Anthony Dunn. I can only hope that he he survived; as well as his house and property. 

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

So much has happened

November, December and now January. All passed without my posting a thing. I just took a look at my last few posts in 2018 and I can now see where I have to pick up.
In November (and December) I was just going through the motions. My pain was constant and not controllable. I was taking drugs and using a nebulizer to help with my COPD. Christmas came and went and during that time I resolved to join the patients at the Pulmonary Rehab center at the Enloe Hospital. Also during this time in November, the Camp Fire started in Paradise. This mountain town is just 30 minutes away by car and about 10 minutes in a straight line. We had spent a week or two  looking for a house in Paradise before getting smart and moving to Orland. We had seen all the narrow and twisting roads leading to houses with great views. We were tempted, and then we remembered our friends in Janesville, where we first lived in N. California. These friends were members of the US Forest Service and CDF, the California Dept of Forestry; now Cal Fire. They all lived away from the forest and out on high desert land just to the north of our forested land. We had a house on 8 acres of trees and there was only one paved road out of there. They warned us of the dangers. We remembered that about 30 years later.
Back to November...The fire started in the morning and we saw the large plume of smoke almost immediately. Looking to the south/east that plume soon blotted out the sun. By mid afternoon we had to turn all the living room lights on. The news reports were very sketchy and the reporters were very nervous. Soon the fire swept through Paradise and continued heading north towards us and east to complete the devastation of Paradise. I stayed by the television all night and into the early morning, watching and listening the progress of the fire. At one point the fire came into Chico, about 6 miles away from us and so I was not going to go to bed. We had all of our important papers out of the safe and ready to put in the car.
 This picture was taken looking over the corner of our garage at 3 in the afternoon. We were scared. We are both from Southern California and know all about wildfires and how fast they move. We have been scared before. I once watched a smoke plume in the distance turn into a menace within an hour. I had to tell my crew we had to leave before it got to us. As we got on the freeway, the CHP officer told me not to slow down and don't stop for anything. I passed a truck drivers trying to push flaming bales of cotton off his trailer. The center divider was burning and smoke was thick. Once clear, I headed home and as I drove into the Valley, I could see smoke and flames on the ridge to the north. That fire raced along the ridge and turned south, I met it again at the far end of the valley after driving for 30 minutes. I got through the smoke and the flames continued on into Malibu and down to the sea.
Here, the Camp Fire was finally contained after days of no progress. Air tanker flights were almost continuous over our house. But once contained, the damage was being assessed and it was monumental. 86 people died in terrible ways. Most were elderly as Paradise had always been a retirement community and housing had been cheap. Infrastructure was almost non-existent here and roads and houses had often 'just happened'. There were no sewers and water service depended on a community lake/reservoir. They had a police dept and they contracted their fire protection to Cal Fire, as many small towns here do. And Cal Fire had always been worried about this town. They saw it as a disaster waiting to happen. Yet, there was very little they could do to change things.
Now the fire is out but there is a new slow moving disaster happening. The City of Chico grew by 20,000 homeless citizens overnight. Most have moved on to friends or relatives. Making new lives. Some were able to buy houses in the area, but very few were available. There are about 600 to 1,000 people left living in tents, cars or campers, all in the County fairgrounds. The Red Cross said they were through and now local agencies are struggling. Traffic is horrendous. Shopping is difficult.
Yes, a lot has changed and it continues. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

I've voted-

-about a week ago. My ballot is already in the office of the County Registrar. I have been voting by mail since the mid 90's and can't imagine doing it any other way. The last time I used a voting booth, it was for a national election and that voting 'booth' was a cheap cardboard and canvas affair that offered no real privacy; no space or time to contemplate the decisions I was about to make. This 'booth' was located in the garage space of the local volunteer fire department for Janesville California; a town with no traffic signals and most houses had no number addresses. Okay, it was quaint, I will give you that, but after watching the election officials at work, I was in no way certain that my vote would ever be counted correctly all. The officials were all close to the age of 90 and they seemed to be struggling with the process. By the time another election rolled around we had moved and I was able to use an 'Absentee' ballot. I continued to do that for many years, even when I was at home.

Before retiring, I worked for a large international construction company, with headquarters in Lenexa KS. I had to visit there quite often as our small group was headquartered nearby at Bonner Springs and over time I became well acquainted with that part of Kansas/Missouri; especially Johnson County KS. And that County impressed me because of their voting rules. Voting was actively encouraged! Voters were given a week or more to cast a ballot...I just checked with the Johnson County website and voting began Oct 22nd and will end on Nov 3rd. Then one day of voting again on Nov 6th. That adds up to 2 weeks of voting opportunity. 

Before giving me grief because of my criticism of 90+ year olds and their abilities, please know that I am 78 years old and I don't believe that I should be entrusted with anyones ballot. Vote by mail and a clerk in the Registrar's office will handle the process competently. Please, don't trust me or anyone older than I am to handle your ballot.

Monday, October 8, 2018


Independent. That's me. I may have said this once before but since I am unable to dredge the memory didn't happen. Now that I'm in my late 70's, memory denial is handy!

Back to being independent; I have been an independent voter for at least 20 years. I became independent after many years of watching the ever increasing antics of both parties. My reasoning is this; if I were to remain a Democrat, I would be subscribing to the party and all of it's faults as well as any good it might do. Those faults were embarrassing to me and I had no part in them. It was the same with the Republicans, and the Peace and Freedom party, the Socialists and...all of them. None of them were even close to being squeaky clean!

After watching that Kavanaugh debacle I can only conclude that I had made a good choice. Was there even one good actor amongst the lot of them? I believe Dr. Ford was the only one. And I do not know if she belongs to any Party...Judge Kavanaugh was the one that was screaming out his Party affiliation.
What I saw reinforced my conclusion that there must be an age limit for these clowns. 65 should be the age for mandatory retirement for Senators and CongressClowns, and their brethren in black robes, the Justices. Or tie their retirement age to that of Commercial pilots. We mandate a certain retirement age for pilots because they have the health & safety of 100's of passengers resting on their shoulders. And our lawmakers? They have the health & safety of millions depending on them. 

Saturday, October 6, 2018

A quiet Saturday

My sister and brother in law have made their way back to their home in Cave Creek AZ where once more they will be surrounded by Trump-ites. They must grin and bear it. Since we live in a 'Red' county, it was a pleasure for us all (4) to be among like minded folks. It doesn't happen often enough.

I'm still in 'recovery mode' after my last hospital stay. I only use use oxygen at night, piped into my CPAP  machine. I use a nebulizer 2 or 3 times a day and I keep an eye on blood oxygen levels. I hope to be able to get back to the gym next month. My pain situation hasn't changed much and that's a good thing only because my opioid consumption is still legal...but barely. I just read that the Congress, in their infinite wisdom, wishes to stop all opioid consumption. Some doctors are touting a plan called Pain Acceptance. Here is a description of this marvelous therapy.

Pain acceptance is the process of giving up the struggle with pain and learning to live life despite painAcceptance is associated with lower levels of pain, disability and psychological distress. Relatively little is known, however, about how patients arrive at a state of acceptance without the aid of therapy.

"Relatively little is known" ? And this is how they expect to treat patients? People without pain get to walk around that way, live their life, 24 hours a day, with no pain except for the usual headache now and then...while I am supposed to just accept my lot in life? Even though there is an imperfect drug to give me relief? A drug I have been managing safely for close to 11 years now? If that becomes reality I will have to do something other than Accepting  it. I don't know what it will be. It won't be heroin or Fentanyl, (a doctor gave me Fentanyl once...never again!)  although I would bet the sales of those two drugs will skyrocket, as well as arrests for possession. Prisons will have to learn how to manage prisoners with severe disabilities and pain. But, here is the good part; Doctors and Congress will be able to congratulate each other on another job well done.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Been there and done that #1

This summer has not been kind to us. Life was humming along; I was going to the gym 3 times a week and using the treadmill for 30 minutes and 1.5 miles. My hip pain was still present and the DEA said I couldn't take more than 4 a day. My prescription was for 6 a day but I could see where this was going and I had already dropped my usage to 2 a day. This made my 30 minutes particularly painful. But I persevered, hoping that yet another pain specialist would be able to stop the pain. He could not.
Then, about a month ago, I woke up, totally confused as to where and who I was. I just wanted to lay down again but this person (my wife) kept shouting at me. She finally persuaded me to get in the car, At the hospital I was taken in and they found that I was oxygen starved. Testing gave me a diagnosis of pneumonia. I have no idea as to where that came from! I was admitted and given huge amounts of antibiotics along with steroids. In 3 days I was told that I could leave.  Which was fine with me; I could write a dozen blog posts about hospitals!
After a few days of home living I began to have a cough and it was increasingly hard to  get a full breath. Then, 6 days ago, I was really struggling to get a breath and we decided that it was time for another trip to the hospital. A pulmonologist became my primary doctor and he took a sample of sputum and cultured it, to find that antibiotics were next to useless and the drug to take was a sulfa type. Very old school....but it worked and I improved daily. After 5 days I was released from the tender mercies of the local hospital. I came home yesterday and now, you can find me by following the green oxygen tubing that decorates the floor.
I have oxygen for all of my sleeping times; running at 2 liters (per minute or hour?) and I monitor my blood oxygen level hourly. I also use a nebulizer to get the drugs deeper into my bronchial tubes. Luckily, my costs are covered by Medicare and AARP.  I do know that we would be looking at selling our house to avoid bankruptcy. Just to complicate things, I have become a neurological puzzle and found that typing helps me to communicate. I have neurologist and will see him soon. And I need to see my urologist. And the DEA has determined that I should not have more than 3 Norco a day.
Yes, I have been there and done that in the hospital. And I don't want to do it again!

Friday, June 8, 2018

The oh so popular opioid wars

I think I'm about to be a victim of those wars. The facts are this; I use opioids, Norco, and have for ten years or more. I have had 4 different surgeries on my back and those surgeries were successful in that they reduced the amount of intense pain that drove me to see a surgeon. Reduced is not the same as gone. Various levels and types of narcotics were used in the fight to eliminate the pain. Some of them, such as Fentanyl were tried and never repeated. It did eliminate the pain but it left me in a stupor. I was given Norco and that seemed to dull the pain without a lot of side effects. Because of kidney problems I wasn't able to use any of the NSAIDs. My prescription said I could take 1 or 2 every 4 hours. and for at least 8 years I have been doing just that and keeping track of each and every dose in a small notebook. I now have a pile of notes with date and dose written on them. I take four 75% of the time and two for the rest. There are rare times when I need 6. I review the notes every once in awhile and I see a lot more six Norco days back in the beginning. As expected, the Norco became less effective over time and instead of taking more, the doctor prescribed a timed release morphine drug that I take twice a day. With that dosage I was able to go back to the gym and start regaining some lost muscle mass and cardio benefits. Also I was beating back the advance of COPD.

All of this time I thought that I was a responsible user of opioids. As a former Navy Hospital Corpsman I was aware of their addictive qualities and had been documenting my use so that I would know if I were increasing the dosage. I was sad that this had happened to me. Fate, bad luck, karma? My earlier career as a 'sheetrocker' had not helped my back and then at some point I fell and broke my back at the L5 level. I remember an intense pain and it took a few minutes before I regained my feet. I finished the day working as if I were crippled. I was. The pain persisted but in the environment where I worked, you didn't take time off unless you had been taken away by an ambulance. I had broken my left foot on the job at one time and I had a walking cast put on and took one day off to let the cast dry, then I was back to work; climbing the stairs with my crutches and then climbing up a rolling scaffold where I remained, working, most of the day. Over time I forgot the pain in my back and what I didn't know was happening to my back. New bone was growing but it was growing wild and forming an enlarged shield over a portion of the L5 vertebra. I was told of my broken back about 40 years after it happened by my surgeon after the first back surgery. Now, 10 years after that the bony growth prevents doctors from injecting corticosteroids into that area where a nerve exits my spine. Doctors won't surgically remove the bone because the scar tissue from makes it impossible to see where to cut. Doctors have tried to inject there, causing me a lot of pain while they no avail. Fate, bad luck, karma? I still don't know.

Now the opioid war has started for me. Yesterday, we were told that the prescription we had given the pharmacy would not be filled. This was after we had called to ask when would it be ready? Our doctor isn't answering our queries. The pharmacy tells us that the DEA is stopping the filling of the prescription because "they were worried about heart attacks". An obvious non-answer in the hopes that we will go away. I've taken the last of my morphine time release and my Norco needs refilling. Yet, no one has contacted the person who has the most to

My wife just left to see what she can do and she has her Kindle with her; she says she's not coming back without an answer.

Friday, May 11, 2018

Sci-Fi & My Kindle

Back in the day..."when the rocks were young" as my children would often say, I became a fan of science fiction books and short stories. In my hometown, Manhattan Beach CA, bookstores were as rare as unicorns and the library was downtown. This required a one mile walk to get there and a much longer one to return as there was a steep hill to climb. 

Then, one day I saw the construction of a store up near the Shell station on Sepulveda. It turned out to be a pharmacy; Stuart's Pharmacy. There were already two pharmacies in town but downtown and a little farther away than the library. Those two pharmacies had fine collections of pocket books and magazines plus a soda fountain so I was hoping that this new pharmacy would be similarly equipped.

I went to Stuart's on the day they opened and saw that they had a great selection of comic books, pocket books and science fiction books. There was no soda fountain but they had an impressive selection of candy. Stuart's was soon my default destination for reading material and candy. And no one stood nearby to monitor my reading selection. At the library there were two blue haired spinsters to prevent the 'Wrong kind of books' from being seen by a young mans eyes. 

The only comic book that I really enjoyed was the adventures of Plastic Man. If you paid attention to the dialog you would see a lot of 'adult' satire. That may have been the reason for the early demise of my hero. With or without Plastic Man, I had a fantastic selection of science fiction to choose from. Heinlein, Asimov and other greats had short stories every month.

Slowly, over the years, my tastes changed or the quality of the fiction was lowered until one day I noticed that I hadn't read any sci-fi for a long time and it didn't matter; I had better things to read. 

That was the way it was for many years and then I spotted a free sci-fi book on Book Bub with delivery by Amazon and it sounded interesting. Oh boy! was it ever! It was a series of books titled "The Expanse" and it went from a 5 book series to an 8 book series plus a TV adaptation of the first book. I was really hooked and I've read 5 of the books now and will soon order the 6th. Then I decided to try some others of that genre. I soon found some duds but I also found some promising authors. 

Along the way I came across "The Spiral Wars" which was a 4 book adventure with good chance for a 5th and 6th book. The author, an Australian, has a great track record or CV and the books showcase his talent. I'm on the last or 4th book and reading it slowly to make it last. When it's gone I will order the next book from the Expanse series. After that is gone I don't have any great choices...yet. 

When it comes to sci-fi I demand actual science. Nothing is faster than the speed of light and when the author has his characters breaking that speed limit he better have a darn good explanation. In reality there are rumors that it can broken but it hasn't reached any mainstream science that I know of. Ah! there's the rub; "...that I know of" and that means that I have to do some homework as well. I love it!