Playing

I'm finding time to play, but not finding time to blog about it. Some of that is because when you get caught in the rain, the camera needs to stay in the plastic bag; it's easier to blog with pics.

So, what have I done since last check-in?

Kayaking on Tygart Lake (and getting caught in a hail storm. oops).
Geo-caching at Pleasant Creek
Hiking and hill runs at Tygart Lake State Park
Hiking/jogging on the North Bend Rail Trail
Hiking/jogging on the Spelter Smelter Trail (can't find a link for the trail, but plenty in the news about the trial...since it's one of my favorite trails, there weill be more on this in the future...)
Running on the McTrail at Prickett's Fort
Jogging/walking (8 miles! - longest distance in years) on the Mon River Trail.
Hiking (again caught in the rain - but better than getting hit with a falling tree) at the Snake Hill WMA.
Hiking - just walking out the back door and going.

Wow. I really am getting some play time.

What's next?
I'm going camping this weekend, which means hiking.
I need to get in a couple of short intense workouts coming up.
Running the 10K in Clarksburg on the 18th (that's what this playtime is supposed to be getting me ready for).

I've found a few cool websites and I have a few fun things planned, so I'll keep things up-to-date. Mostly.

Cold

Cold is relative.
This morning it is a relatively balmy 25F degrees.
Last week I would have told you that 25 is cold, but after the cold snap this weekend, it really doesn't feel so bad (except when my glove fingers freeze to the shovel handle after I've pulled my hands into fists to keep them warm enough to clean the walkways and sidewalks).
Friday morning our thermometer at home said -2. Here in town it was zero. I think it made it up to about 10 degrees.
Saturday morning it was -11 at home and -4 here in town. That is cold.
Unless you live in Minnesota, then even those temperatures could feel relatively balmy.
Really.
I remember reading a book when I was a child that said if you spit at 40 below, it will freeze before it hits the ground. I never thought I'd put myself in a situation to see if that were true.
And then I grew up and moved to Minnesota.
Yep. It's true. You can hear it crackle as it freezes.
However, at that temperature, any exposed skin is not safe. Nothing is safe.
It was so cold, propane gelled in the tank. If it stayed that cold and you had to have the propane to keep the furnace going, you'd have to shovel red hot coals underneath the tank to warm it enough to be usable. Fortunately, we kept our coals in the wood burners (yes, plural - we had 2 of them) and kept feeding them. We went through about 7 cords of wood in a winter. 7 cords of good wood and we were still wearing sweaters in the house.
At that time, PC worked at the sawmill in our little community - about 3 miles from the house. The cold didn't stop them much. If it were 20 below or warmer (who would've thought you'd ever see '20 below' and 'warmer' in the same sentence?), the sawmill ran. At -21, the old man would grunt and the sawmill would stay idle.
Driving on the lake was a new thing for me, too. We lived about 2 miles north of Mille Lacs Lake. It is not a small lake. In fact, I believe it's one of the larger lakes in a state known for its lakes. Not long before Christmas, little icehouses would start appearing far out from shore. The little sheds on skis that sit along the water's edge all summer long were just waiting for the freeze. Once the ice was thick enough - about 3 feet- it was safe for a full size vehicle to drive on. The icehouses are hooked up like trailers and pulled out onto the lake. Whole little communities pop-up. Roads are plowed and the little shacks become homes away from home - one way to battle cabin fever.
In the floors of these little shacks (usually with a plywood bunk or two, a small heater, and a chair) are trapdoors. You pull the handle and it opens up to reveal the surface of the lake about 6 inches below floor level. You use an ice auger to drill a 6" hole. When the ice thickens, you use an auger extension (I am not making this up) to reach the water.
The fishing is good some days, not so good others: like any other fishing, I guess. (If you don't catch anything, you can hook up your house to your truck and move.) The walleye tastes wonderful, but if you're lucky, you catch such a big one you can't pull it in (I'm not sure that's lucky). And they have big, sharp teeth. Lots of them.
Living up there, I certainly saw things you'd never see around here.
That's okay with me.
If I ever feel the need to keep the ice open around my fishing hole, I know where to go.

It worked; I feel warmer already :).

Robert Frost Trail

PC & I met in Vermont. (I won't tell you how many years ago, but it's been a few.)
This past summer when we went on the New Hampshire family vacation, PC & I took a day to revisit the place where we met: the Green Mountain National Forest.
Here are a few pictures from the Robert Frost interpretive trail (I don't think this was here when we were there - it's been that long):

A New Victory Garden - The Who Farm

The White House Organic Farm Project is a "is a non-partisan, petition-based initiative to respectfully request that our 44th President oversee the planting of an organic farm on the grounds of The White House, our nation’s First Home, at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, Washington, DC."
Visit the web-site to learn more and sign the petition:
http://www.thewhofarm.org/about/

I first heard about this in this post over at The Reluctant Soil blog.
I found her blog through a blog I've been visiting periodically for at least a couple of years: This Old Crack House.
What the hell am I reading, right?
It's not as weird as it sounds. It's a giant old house in Dayton, OH that the blogger is rehabbing into a home.

Anyway, I thought the WHOFarm was pretty cool. It would be a great representation of what we hope we elected.

Other links:
Wikipedia's Victory Garden

The Victory Garden - a site dedicated to the backyard garden's revival

Weird Load - Critters

I love these pictures!
This is getting the 'Traffic' label; I love the traffic here in Grafton.

I was at The 123 (imagine that) and looked down the street.
What are those critters?


A closer look:


This is the best close-up that I was able to get: a llama, a goat, & a calf!
I'm pretty sure there was a sheep in there, too, but I didn't get his picture.


I love weird loads!

These are the last 3 pictures that were thrown into this blog's folder.
But don't get your hopes up - there are other folders of unposted pictures.

Warrior Boy

Yes, these pictures are still a part of the series "...but I'll post them anyway..."

This is my youngest son:


An eight year old tending the fire and preparing for the hunt.



He didn't know I was taking these pictures, but after I snapped a couple I made him go put some clothes on.

That makes me the party-pooper (yes, kids, I know).

I hope I didn't ruin his fun, but it wasn't that warm out and he didn't even have shoes on (now I really sound like the mom, don't I?).

What should you do if...

...you see your neighbor's teenage boys climbing a ladder onto their roof and jumping off onto a trampoline?

It's a Sign

This sign was good enough to find a spot to turn around and go back to snap a picture:

You can see M's smiling face in the side mirror. We were cracking up. I didn't want to take the chance of it not being here next time I drove by; I had to get a picture. Actually, I got several.

There were other -worse- words painted onto the board and scribbled out with spray paint, but apparently the most important word was unmistakable.

I wonder who lives down that way?

Lawn Mower Parts for Breakfast

The lawnmower was broken. I knew it was broken, but I hadn't yet taken the time to find the replacement pieces.
Meanwhile, the grass quietly, slowly grew unruly.

PC politely fed me a reminder on a paper plate:


Mmmm....crunchy.

Oregon Trip - Post 5- Depot Rail Museum

In yesterday's post at The 123, I talked about why I found this little Oregon town so fascinating. More specifically -and something else in common with Grafton's red caboose (and other rail history)- this Depot Rail Museum caught my interest:

This little Depot-turned-museum sits at the far end of town, just about on the Sandy River.
"End of the Line Museum Store:"






Unfortunately, I was there too early in the morning to take the inside tour, but I couldn't help looking through the windows:




although the view from the front porch wasn't much:




This yellow car sits in the front yard:







I wanted to take pictures of this car like I did for our red caboose post, so I just walked around snapping away:











It's obvious that this car is much newer than our red caboose.



How much newer?



I googled this train car number:


And learned that this car was built in Ohio in 1975.



It was in service as recently as 1993, because the picture of it on the web page was taken in Washington State.






There was no information online or on-site that indicated when or why it was retired.












I tried to look in the window, but it was pretty blurry:


There was a boiler and a few cots, like a bunkhouse. Does that make it a caboose?



I have no idea.

What impressed me the most -and this wasn't the first time- was the age difference in our history.
Grafton, West Virginia's boom began in the 1850s when the railroad first came over the Allegheny Mountains. Troutdale, Oregon's boom was around 1900. It took time for our nation to move West.

I tried to find out when our red caboose was built, but I can't find a thing. I do know, however, that it has been sitting on Main Street for 30 years or so. That means it was retired around the same time that this yellow caboose was just a baby.

Oregon Trip - Post 4 - Bronze in the Park

Okay, here's the post about the other bronze sculptures in the park.


There were beautiful, thriving flowering plants hanging from every light post in town. Every morning, a pick-up truck with a water tank in the back would slowly cruise through town and stop at every flower. Alongside the water tank, there stood a man who hosed down every plant until the water dripped out the bottom.

s


This sign says, "A Century Just Blew By:"


There were quite a few signs with historical information; I'll get to some of those later, but this Trout Statue sign will be the first:

These intertwined bronze trout are the focal point of the park:



Can you read this?

It says,
"Troutdale's
'Rainbow Splendor'
by
Rip Caswell
Captain John Harlow named his farm, and later Troutdale, for the trout he raised in a dale.
'In the rook bordered fish pond where the fountain was playing...' said Ben Hur Lampman, one of Oregon's most eloquent fisherman in 'Coming of the Pond Fishes.'
Generously donated to the City of Troutdale by: Richard L. Weyhrich, Gary A. Weyhrich, Mark D. Weyhrich, Karen A. Weyhrich, Tube Specialties Company, Inc."



These cute little kids I like better than the fish, though:

"Hitchin' a Ride" by Carolyn Williams



"Amanda Jane" by Carolyn Williams

Relaxing

Okay, not really relaxing, more like working on stuff I want to.

I'll tell you more about my weekend later....

Cooling Off

This is how the kids around here cool off:


The world's biggest sprinkler!



Wonder what would happen if there was a fire?

Skunk

The last post, 'Lazy Pictures', was not meant as an omen. I've only been lazy about blogging, not about everything else.
I've been busy at The 123 (go here to the main page or here to the blog for updates). Right now I'm laying tile (well, not really right now - right now I'm blogging when I should be tiling - See? that's why I haven't been around here much).


Maisie investigated her first skunk.
Blech.
Hopefully it will be her last.

S & I were on the deck late Saturday evening. Maisie was out patrolling, her usual evening dog duties.

"I smell a skunk," S said.
It took a few seconds for my brain to process what this meant.
My first reaction was to call the dog, but my immediate, second reaction, was NOT to call the dog.
Ugh.

The dog came anyway, wiping her face with her paws.
Then she wiped her face on S's leg.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, actually), S's dog, B, put a skunk in her mouth several months ago (maybe I can get S to tell you that story), so S knew what to do.

Here's the skunk recipe: http://home.earthlink.net/~skunkremedy/home/sk00001.htm

While I mixed this concoction, S stood at the kitchen sink with one leg on the floor and one leg in the sink, scrubbing off Maisie's smelly gift.

I lathered the dog from head to toe and left her outside to marinate.

30 minutes or so later I rinsed her out, and while she didn't smell like roses, she was tolerable enough that I didn't make her stay outside for the night.

Now, if you get too close, she has a faint skunkiness about her.
I don't know how long it will last.

Lazy Pictures

(I took the picture and then uncovered his head so he could breathe.)

I have a few reasons for posting these lazy pictures:
1. I couldn't stand the Chicago River being the first thing I saw when I came over here.
2. I'm shaking my head over Dick Cheney's little joke about West Virginia and vowing not to waste my time addressing that idiot's comments. Except to say it's obvious he's not from here. Thankfully. (Okay, stopping, really.)
3. I just came in from playing in the garden and a nap sounds pretty good right now.
4. It's going to rain -again!- and that makes the nap sound even better.