Saturday, April 24, 2010
Spring Barges In
The rains continue on an every-other-day basis, working miracles for my vegetation, domestic and otherwise. I thought I would take a moment to share just a few photos. You can enlarge the pictures with one or two clicks, it you want a more detailed picture.
That is all I have for now. Have a great weekend!
Yesterday's rain left droplets on the redbud tree leaves. The world had that "It just rained and everything smells wonderful" air about it. After I study this shot awhile, I may find part of it that is special. We shall see. If not this one, then perhaps the next, eh?
This is the first rose blossom of the year in my garden. Rose bushes seem particularly eager this year. I cut them back earlier, from 7 feet to about 3 feet tall. They are choked with buds.
The China Berry tree is in full bloom. The tiny flowers are blue or violet and give off a scent like lavender. Makes for very pleasant afternoons on the patio, sipping a cool drink and watching the birds and squirrels play in the trees.
Right, I have the first tomato of the season! Oh, sure, it is green and the size of a shooter marble, but it has doubled in size in the last day. In a week or so, it might be the size of a tennis ball and ready to fulfill its destiny on a sandwich or in a salad. The yellow blossoms mean there will be many more to come. Mmmm. Pass the salt.
The Amaryrllis is up early. There must be two dozen of them in bloom. Several will be in a vase on my table before the weekend is done. Very cheery.
That is all I have for now. Have a great weekend!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My Life, and Welcome to it
…
It began yesterday. It was the first sunny day I have seen in awhile and I resolved to manicure the landscape while I could still see over it. The idea seemed simple enough.
First, I planned to trim the verge in the lower forty, down by the creek. Unfortunately, a large limb covered most of it, so I retrieved the trusty chainsaw from the tool bin. It was out of fuel.
“No problem,” I thought. I fetched the 2-cycle fuel can. “Hmm. It’s empty, too.” I muttered. In a few minutes, I located the keys to my truck and headed for the gas station. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived home and filled the chainsaw’s tank. Pull as I might, it would not start. A little poking and prodding later, I discovered the chain was jammed.
“It probably got stuck on a shred of my blue jeans, “ I thought.
I found some antique hand tools and disassembled the saw. I cleaned the clutch of packed sawdust and readjusted the tension on the chain. Once reassembled, it started immediately.
“No problem,” I repeated.
I stripped the limb of all the small twigs and branches. The remainder was 100% firewood. That meant I would need to haul the cut pieces to the wood rack for storage. Who knows, it might snow again in the next decade. Then again, it might not.
I fetched my recently returned wheelbarrow, Starship Enterprise, to help haul the wood. Not so fast. The tire was flat.
“No problem,” I said through my teeth.
I got back into the truck and drove to the hardware store to buy a patch kit. Forty minutes later, I unbolted the wheel from the barrow and pried the tire from the wheel with a crowbar. I found the leak in the tube and glued a patch over it.
By now, it was after lunchtime. I returned to the house, cleaned up and enjoyed a gourmet frozen dinner. Mmm, mmm. That strapping 200-calorie lunch really hit the spot. I am still surprised I had strength enough to walk away from the table, but I managed.
Last week I ordered a video camera for my motorcycle. As I savored my lunch, the telephone rang. It was Jim, the local dealer, telling me I could come get the camera. I jumped into the truck and headed for Waxahachie to score some high-tech toy for my travelogues. These trips take time as Jim and I are both inclined to regale one another with stories of derring-do when we meet. When I returned home, I whipped-up another 200-calorie wonder meal and collapsed for the evening.
The lawn could wait one more day.
This morning, I returned to the simple and satisfying task of lawn maintenance. I checked the inner tube for leaks. It seemed sound. Next, I reassembled the wheelbarrow. When I finished, it looked pretty normal and wheelbarrowish.
“Good job, Hank.”
Finally, I loaded the refurbished chainsaw into the repaired wheelbarrow and set off for the jungle. When I arrived, everything was perfect, at least for the first ten seconds. I parked the wheelbarrow and started the chainsaw. Whiiiinnne went the saw. BUZZZZ went the chain. We seemed to be making a lot of noise, but no wood chips were flying. Soon, the wood I was cutting began to smoke. I stopped the saw and carefully ran a finger along the blade teeth. Nada. It was as dull as a butter knife.
"Probably got dulled when it chewed into my kneecap."
“No [bleeping] problem,” I spat.
I stalked back to the shed and put the saw on the shelf. Then, I selected the “good” chainsaw that sat right next to it. Five minutes later, wood chips filled the air and I was on my way to a yard worthy of House Beautiful.
I hauled and stacked the wood. Then, I trimmed the rough spots with the weed-eater. The edger made short work of the margins of the lawn and the mower chewed through the weeds of my formerly lush lawn as if they were in the fairway at Augusta. Ten minutes with a leaf blower removed the last traces of debris. It was a struggle, but it was almost worth it. The place looks much better.
As a final step, I climbed into my truck one last time to return it to its rightful place at the end of the drive. I crawled in and slammed the door. As the engine started, I happened to glance upward toward the sun visor. That is when I saw it. It was the biggest, blue butterfly ever seen, at least in my truck. I was too tired to startle much, so I thought of grabbing a camera. I slipped out quietly and dashed indoors. When I returned, the butterfly was right where I left him. I took a dozen photos. A few were okay.
I backed the truck into place and killed the engine. I ran the windows down so my butterfly passenger could find his [or her] way when he tired of being indoors. Then, I came in here to write about it.
That is enough for me.
It began yesterday. It was the first sunny day I have seen in awhile and I resolved to manicure the landscape while I could still see over it. The idea seemed simple enough.
First, I planned to trim the verge in the lower forty, down by the creek. Unfortunately, a large limb covered most of it, so I retrieved the trusty chainsaw from the tool bin. It was out of fuel.
“No problem,” I thought. I fetched the 2-cycle fuel can. “Hmm. It’s empty, too.” I muttered. In a few minutes, I located the keys to my truck and headed for the gas station. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived home and filled the chainsaw’s tank. Pull as I might, it would not start. A little poking and prodding later, I discovered the chain was jammed.
“It probably got stuck on a shred of my blue jeans, “ I thought.
I found some antique hand tools and disassembled the saw. I cleaned the clutch of packed sawdust and readjusted the tension on the chain. Once reassembled, it started immediately.
“No problem,” I repeated.
I stripped the limb of all the small twigs and branches. The remainder was 100% firewood. That meant I would need to haul the cut pieces to the wood rack for storage. Who knows, it might snow again in the next decade. Then again, it might not.
I fetched my recently returned wheelbarrow, Starship Enterprise, to help haul the wood. Not so fast. The tire was flat.
“No problem,” I said through my teeth.
I got back into the truck and drove to the hardware store to buy a patch kit. Forty minutes later, I unbolted the wheel from the barrow and pried the tire from the wheel with a crowbar. I found the leak in the tube and glued a patch over it.
By now, it was after lunchtime. I returned to the house, cleaned up and enjoyed a gourmet frozen dinner. Mmm, mmm. That strapping 200-calorie lunch really hit the spot. I am still surprised I had strength enough to walk away from the table, but I managed.
Last week I ordered a video camera for my motorcycle. As I savored my lunch, the telephone rang. It was Jim, the local dealer, telling me I could come get the camera. I jumped into the truck and headed for Waxahachie to score some high-tech toy for my travelogues. These trips take time as Jim and I are both inclined to regale one another with stories of derring-do when we meet. When I returned home, I whipped-up another 200-calorie wonder meal and collapsed for the evening.
The lawn could wait one more day.
This morning, I returned to the simple and satisfying task of lawn maintenance. I checked the inner tube for leaks. It seemed sound. Next, I reassembled the wheelbarrow. When I finished, it looked pretty normal and wheelbarrowish.
“Good job, Hank.”
Finally, I loaded the refurbished chainsaw into the repaired wheelbarrow and set off for the jungle. When I arrived, everything was perfect, at least for the first ten seconds. I parked the wheelbarrow and started the chainsaw. Whiiiinnne went the saw. BUZZZZ went the chain. We seemed to be making a lot of noise, but no wood chips were flying. Soon, the wood I was cutting began to smoke. I stopped the saw and carefully ran a finger along the blade teeth. Nada. It was as dull as a butter knife.
"Probably got dulled when it chewed into my kneecap."
“No [bleeping] problem,” I spat.
I stalked back to the shed and put the saw on the shelf. Then, I selected the “good” chainsaw that sat right next to it. Five minutes later, wood chips filled the air and I was on my way to a yard worthy of House Beautiful.
I hauled and stacked the wood. Then, I trimmed the rough spots with the weed-eater. The edger made short work of the margins of the lawn and the mower chewed through the weeds of my formerly lush lawn as if they were in the fairway at Augusta. Ten minutes with a leaf blower removed the last traces of debris. It was a struggle, but it was almost worth it. The place looks much better.
I backed the truck into place and killed the engine. I ran the windows down so my butterfly passenger could find his [or her] way when he tired of being indoors. Then, I came in here to write about it.
That is enough for me.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Dawdle Across Texas with Me – Episode 2
…
The Promenade in Fredericksburg.
When we visited last, I was in Valley Mills, Texas. I did not stop for one of those aromatic Mexican or Barbeque lunches. It had nothing to do with moral (or any other kind of) fiber. I had a limited amount of time, so I pressed on. I headed for Clifton along Highway 6. I think George W. Bush’s place is around here somewhere.
Clifton showed up in twenty minutes and I reconnected with 219, headed for the sleepy village of Cranfill’s Gap. After the trip was over, I discovered my aunt Evelyn lives there, still. She is my late father’s eldest sister and a very sweet person. I shall make a note to try to find her on my next pass.
St. Olaf's Kirk!
I detoured to revisit St. Olaf’s Kirk. You might recall I snapped a picture of the 1880s vintage church during deer season. (See “The Hunt.”) Then, cold air and overcast skies prevailed. This time, warm air and sunny skies were the order of the day. I wanted to get a better picture under brighter conditions.
Next, I cruised through “The Gap” toward Fairy, Texas. Even tinier, Fairy is the gateway to Hico, home of my stepmother, Marguerite. She has been ill and I have not seen her in awhile. Following the rural roads, I made my way to her door. She answered the bell and we had a long conversation. Now in her 90’s, she admits she has lost a step or two, but her wit is sharp and her disposition is sunny, particularly considering her recent health issues. I learned she went to the hospital with pneumonia and heart trouble. I was happy she recovered. I think she was, too. She has not met the youngest grandson. (My Bad) I pledged to bring Joshua for a short visit in the very near future.
When our conversation ended, I headed back the way I came, savoring the bright sun and mild temperature. I wanted to be off the highway before dark. I am not sure why. It may be I am getting old. Nah.
Highway, Trees and Bluebonnets
The winds picked up as I rode north. At one point, a gust pushed my ride hard toward the unpaved shoulder. I leaned into the wind and wondered if I could turn hard enough to keep off the loose gravel on the shoulder. I did not relish the idea of hitting gravel at speed in a hard turn. Nothing good would come of it. The gust died as suddenly as it began and the motorcycle headed sharply left, toward oncoming traffic. I hauled the bike upright and scampered back to the proper lane, missing the oncoming truck by two hundred yards. I think I saw the truck driver laughing as he sped by. No matter. I would laugh, too, after I got home.
The rest of the trip was tranquil. I arrived home before sunset, exhausted and exhilarated. I think I shall approach my next outing a little different. Next time, I plan to give in to more temptations to stop and see the sights; talk to more people. After all, there is more to touring than scenery and speed. We shall see.
The Promenade in Fredericksburg.
When we visited last, I was in Valley Mills, Texas. I did not stop for one of those aromatic Mexican or Barbeque lunches. It had nothing to do with moral (or any other kind of) fiber. I had a limited amount of time, so I pressed on. I headed for Clifton along Highway 6. I think George W. Bush’s place is around here somewhere.
An old barn
Clifton showed up in twenty minutes and I reconnected with 219, headed for the sleepy village of Cranfill’s Gap. After the trip was over, I discovered my aunt Evelyn lives there, still. She is my late father’s eldest sister and a very sweet person. I shall make a note to try to find her on my next pass. 
I detoured to revisit St. Olaf’s Kirk. You might recall I snapped a picture of the 1880s vintage church during deer season. (See “The Hunt.”) Then, cold air and overcast skies prevailed. This time, warm air and sunny skies were the order of the day. I wanted to get a better picture under brighter conditions.Cottage in The Gap
Imagine my surprise when I arrived to find the church surrounded by workers, cranes and scaffolding. The white stucco façade was gone and the original-looking limestone exterior gleamed in the sun. I did not get the photo I wanted, but I am happy to have the old church returned to its historic appearance. In the fullness of time, I shall catch it gleaming in the sun, without the construction crews. It will be beautiful!
Scene in The Gap
Next, I cruised through “The Gap” toward Fairy, Texas. Even tinier, Fairy is the gateway to Hico, home of my stepmother, Marguerite. She has been ill and I have not seen her in awhile. Following the rural roads, I made my way to her door. She answered the bell and we had a long conversation. Now in her 90’s, she admits she has lost a step or two, but her wit is sharp and her disposition is sunny, particularly considering her recent health issues. I learned she went to the hospital with pneumonia and heart trouble. I was happy she recovered. I think she was, too. She has not met the youngest grandson. (My Bad) I pledged to bring Joshua for a short visit in the very near future.When our conversation ended, I headed back the way I came, savoring the bright sun and mild temperature. I wanted to be off the highway before dark. I am not sure why. It may be I am getting old. Nah.
Highway, Trees and Bluebonnets
Welcoming Evening Sky
The rest of the trip was tranquil. I arrived home before sunset, exhausted and exhilarated. I think I shall approach my next outing a little different. Next time, I plan to give in to more temptations to stop and see the sights; talk to more people. After all, there is more to touring than scenery and speed. We shall see.
...
Friday, April 9, 2010
Dawdle Across Texas with Me… Episode 1
...
Oh, I forgot to mention this until now. Click on the pictures to see larger, more detailed versions. Two clicks gets the largest picture. Enjoy!
It is springtime in Texas and life is good. Redbud trees are in bloom. Wisteria vines show signs of life and the beloved bluebonnet, Texas' state flower is growing wild in the countryside [top].
I shot south through Waxahachie and caromed into Milford, Texas on one breath. Milford is 25 miles south and 80 years behind my home base. I believe the town is slowly disappearing because Big “D” sucks the life out of it. I stopped in front of the Milford police station and drew my camera. The “downtown” of Milford is across the street from the cop house. It is in decay and something prompted me to snap a photo or two while it is still there.
After Milford, US highway 77 winds smoothly to Hillsboro. That is where I catch 22 westbound. I cannot recall ever having seen Texas greener. Emerald green grasses carpeted wide pastures along the way. Cattle and goats grazed here and there, oblivious to my passage. The air is sweet with every kind of plant fragrance and I greedily sucked it in. At times, I found myself gawking at the compelling beauty at the expense of watching where I was going. Luckily, my reverie ended before I actually plowed up the roadside wildflowers.
Highway 22 is well travelled. It will take you as far as Hamilton, Texas. It might go even farther. I do not know because there are so many smaller, twisty roads to explore before Hamilton. Farm Road 219 is one of them. Traffic along this narrow, winding road is local and sparse. The countryside is made of rolling hills and wide valleys. After the rains, which began last September, everything that can turn green has done so. This includes rocks, fence posts and pickup trucks. From the hilltops, a traveler can appreciate the immense size of the country. Green trees and grass mixed with bright wildflowers stretch to the horizon. I felt tiny staring out at creation, but happy too. I was relieved I did not bear responsibility for the immensity or beauty before me. All I had to do was to see and appreciate it. Sweet.
Oh, I forgot to mention this until now. Click on the pictures to see larger, more detailed versions. Two clicks gets the largest picture. Enjoy!
It is springtime in Texas and life is good. Redbud trees are in bloom. Wisteria vines show signs of life and the beloved bluebonnet, Texas' state flower is growing wild in the countryside [top].Yesterday, I had all the domestic tranquility I could stand. I needed air, and lots of it. Lucky for me, it was a sunny, mild day. Speaking of air, it was windy, too, but I will say more about that later. I fussed about, ate breakfast and lit the fuse on my trusty cycle. For those unfamiliar with motorcycles, mine is a Honda and boasts tongue-swallowing acceleration. It is just the thing for those moments when civilization encroaches on one’s sanity.
After Milford, US highway 77 winds smoothly to Hillsboro. That is where I catch 22 westbound. I cannot recall ever having seen Texas greener. Emerald green grasses carpeted wide pastures along the way. Cattle and goats grazed here and there, oblivious to my passage. The air is sweet with every kind of plant fragrance and I greedily sucked it in. At times, I found myself gawking at the compelling beauty at the expense of watching where I was going. Luckily, my reverie ended before I actually plowed up the roadside wildflowers.
Highway 22 is well travelled. It will take you as far as Hamilton, Texas. It might go even farther. I do not know because there are so many smaller, twisty roads to explore before Hamilton. Farm Road 219 is one of them. Traffic along this narrow, winding road is local and sparse. The countryside is made of rolling hills and wide valleys. After the rains, which began last September, everything that can turn green has done so. This includes rocks, fence posts and pickup trucks. From the hilltops, a traveler can appreciate the immense size of the country. Green trees and grass mixed with bright wildflowers stretch to the horizon. I felt tiny staring out at creation, but happy too. I was relieved I did not bear responsibility for the immensity or beauty before me. All I had to do was to see and appreciate it. Sweet.
Eventually, I neared the town of Clifton (Pop. 3500-ish). I travelled this route before, on my way to lunch in Lometa. This time, I decided to explore another route and avoid the possibility of poisoning far from home. Farm Road 708 showed up just in time. Even narrower and less travelled than 219, it lead me around sweeping turns and between tall hills toward Valley Mills (Pop. 1100 +/-).
It was lunchtime when I arrived. I have not visited Valley Mills since my undergraduate days in Austin and I was pleased to find the little town in good condition and bustling with activity. Most of the activity seemed to be at the many barbeque and Mexican restaurants I passed on my way through town. The aroma of country cooking filled the air. After only a few blocks, I was slobbering like a hound dog, but I kept going. I had farther to go before I could rest.
I will tell you more about it next time.
…
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Catching up.
...
As we wait for some excitement to show up, I can share a few pictures from recent travels.
A couple of weeks ago, I returned to the Hill Country. I planned to visit as many art galleries as I could find and place my photos with them on consignment wherever possible. I hauled a trunk load of prints with me. It was a rough trip. The economy in this tourist Mecca is not good. Art dealers were as eager to receive new art as to enjoy a comprehensive audit by IRS. So, the trip turned out to be more work and less benefit than I hoped. I take it as a positive sign I was not actually physically ejected from very many galleries.
Undaunted, I managed to get a few photos of interesting architecture during my travels and can share a few of them here.
The "Good Art" Gallery is a neat place with some fine painting, sculpture and photography. I recommend it for your shopping needs in Fredericksburg, Texas.
You are welcome to email me at hank.burden@gmail.com with interests, questions or requests.
Easter landed on me with all four grandchildren last Sunday. I have pictures to prove it. I usually do not take pictures at these events. I think it can get in the way of enjoying the people and other activities. This time, I made an exception. During the half-day celebration at my daughter's home, there seemed plenty of time and cuteness to go around.
The little guy over there (right) is William. He is almost 5 years old (wow) and bright as a new penny. I was lucky to get this shot during the few milliseconds he was still. I missed about a dozen times, capturing blurs more often than not. The angelic expression requires high-speed photography.
< - Sophia! She just turned three and is in the princess phase of her life. She might remain there well past forty, I fear. I have never met a sweeter child, but I do not envy her father in coming decades. She has "Pip" written all over her: a grandfather's delight and the cause of much potential sleeplessness for parents in nine more years. I see nailed-shut windows in her future.
The handsome lad [right] is August. It is hard to believe he is only two-ish. He is chatty and adventurous. He is kind and affectionate. Like all my grandchildren, he has a taste for chocolate, particularly Hershey's Kisses. Naturally, I give him all he wants. Heh, heh.
The newest addition to the Easter parade is Joshua. He is a happy, peaceful child who devotes much of his time to eating, sleeping, and smiling at those funny-looking people around him and well, you know. (It is the diaper thing.) We all love him very much and are eager to discover who he might become in coming years. I am optimistic for all of them.
I know, I know. This is not what any of us expect in an adventure blog. Still, it is amazing to have the future of my line run to me and leap into my arms or into my lap [Oof! - Ghaaa!] when we meet.
They give me hope that the world might be a better place one day.
This is a typical collection of spoils from the Easter egg hunt. The warm light seemed to highlight the spirit of the occasion.
Sophia and August are exuberant co-conspirators.
Next time, I promise to do something outdoorsy, hopefully not involving violence to my remaining body parts.
...
As we wait for some excitement to show up, I can share a few pictures from recent travels.
A couple of weeks ago, I returned to the Hill Country. I planned to visit as many art galleries as I could find and place my photos with them on consignment wherever possible. I hauled a trunk load of prints with me. It was a rough trip. The economy in this tourist Mecca is not good. Art dealers were as eager to receive new art as to enjoy a comprehensive audit by IRS. So, the trip turned out to be more work and less benefit than I hoped. I take it as a positive sign I was not actually physically ejected from very many galleries.
Undaunted, I managed to get a few photos of interesting architecture during my travels and can share a few of them here.
Dooley's five & 10 cent store is a Fredericksburg landmark. When you visit, the staff speaks fluent German, upon request, or so I have heard. I guess they do it because they can.
Gingerbread homes and ornate buildings abound here. It is hard to resist smiling at them. They seem to be refugees from a Thomas Kincaid painting...
The two-day trip wore me out! Who could imagine a measly 48 hours of uninterrupted rejection becoming so tiring? Not I. Well, I do now.
I think I shall return to travel and photography primarily as a joyous hobby, at least for present. Should any readers want to purchase prints shown on these pages, I will be happy to provide them. All pictures are available on paper or canvas, suitable for framing. Prices vary with size and materials. I think they are very reasonable.
You are welcome to email me at hank.burden@gmail.com with interests, questions or requests.
Next topic: EASTER
Easter landed on me with all four grandchildren last Sunday. I have pictures to prove it. I usually do not take pictures at these events. I think it can get in the way of enjoying the people and other activities. This time, I made an exception. During the half-day celebration at my daughter's home, there seemed plenty of time and cuteness to go around.
I know, I know. This is not what any of us expect in an adventure blog. Still, it is amazing to have the future of my line run to me and leap into my arms or into my lap [Oof! - Ghaaa!] when we meet.
They give me hope that the world might be a better place one day.
Next time, I promise to do something outdoorsy, hopefully not involving violence to my remaining body parts.
...
Hiatus
Thanks for stopping by...
I am taking some time away from this page. During my absence, I hope to generate some worthy adventure stories. (I have a plan.) Meanwhile, I shall work on those domestic chores that, while necessary, are too routine or dull to warrant reporting here. These tasks require doing, just as the more exciting ones. [drat]
No sense in publishing stuff even I find boring or tedious.
I shall return - soon!
Hank
I am taking some time away from this page. During my absence, I hope to generate some worthy adventure stories. (I have a plan.) Meanwhile, I shall work on those domestic chores that, while necessary, are too routine or dull to warrant reporting here. These tasks require doing, just as the more exciting ones. [drat]
No sense in publishing stuff even I find boring or tedious.
I shall return - soon!
Hank
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