Inge's Brats

Well, we had our annual fall festival at Holy Family this past weekend. Because of Tropical Storm Hannah, the event was moved inside. That did not stop people from coming, however, or Inge from making her famous brats and saurkraut.

Inge is an elderly women from Bavaria who loves Pope Benedict, is active in the parish, and sponsors the German booth during the festival, where parishioners from every cultural background, come together, cook, and sell their food at festival.

Last year, Clare and I were super-surprised with Inge's cooking, and I kept going back for more. So this past weekend, I knew right where to go. She would not give me her recipe--their are others before me in line for that, but she divulged to me her authentic German source for bratwurt and saurkraut: Rieker's Prime Meats in Philadelpia.

But the goodness does not stop there. The domination gets even better. Inge had leftovers from the festival, and was giving them back to the church to sell or giveaway. Needless to say, I took no prisoners at the opportunity to get some bratwurst. I bought 5 lbs., or 20 premium brats, for 3.29 per pound, Inge's cost, with free shipping and a tub of Inge's kraut! People were scrambling for those things, but at our staff meeting when it was announced there would be some for sale, I exclaimed "Those brats are mine!" I was serious but got lots of laughs, too. That is how I wage war.

I grilled some up tonight and was pleasantly reminded at first bite that, yes, these are the best damn brats I've ever had...

And now I know where to get them.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

PS-Another great thing about our festival is the raffle. First prize, which I think is 5k, went to one of the volunteers who spent his last 10 bucks on the 3 tickets. He's the nicest guy around, and has been volunteering at the Church over the last four months because he's been out of work. When I saw him, I asked him how he was and he said he was still out of work. I said man that's "rough," and he's like "yah...," and here he is walking around with a t-shirt that says Jesus saves, smiling, but suffering inwardly, but helping anyone he can.

Well to make a long story short and festival great, this guy won first prize the next day. Everyone cheers. He starts crying and everyone cheers more. It was genuinely awesome and I am so grateful that this guy, Harrison, won. Thanks be to God!

Random Monday Thoughts

Hey all. It's an update that's actually on time. Yay for Labor Day.

First, a shout out to John McCain for making a great VP choice. I don't think he could have picked a better running mate. Everyone has their fair share of challenges, but to my mind she was the best choice all along and has my full, enthusiastic support. Hip hip for Sarah Palin!

The bathroom is coming along very well. The plumbing is completely finished. The electrical is nearly complete--just have to wire up the new outlet, finish a little more framing and shiming and I'm ready to close this sucker up. Yes, it's been a long windy road, but it's one I'm ready to see the end of real soon.

It's already feeling like Fall out here. We have some early turners. Our black walnut and our neighbor's sycamore have already started to drop their yellowed leaves. I can't tell you how pumped I am for Fall colors this year. I am excited to see what colors the trees in our yard are going to turn. I am also excited for a drop in temperature, so I can wear long sleeves once again and get my wood stove fired up. I will also take that opportunity to get out to my shed and organize it into a worthy workshop.

Last week I mentioned I recommended a 16 0z. (Estwing) hammer for your bag. I have found this to be the perfect size and weight for most projects. However, if you are going to be framing, I recommend a 20 oz. (Estwing). Four ounces doesn't sound like much, but after a couple of swings the difference is clearly noticeable--your arm is tired and your swings pack far more umph. So, if you find yourself framing and doing rough carpentry, step it up to a 20 oz. You'll be happy you did.

Finally, I just want to say that I've seen a lot of hooked up Jeeps this past month and a half on 55. There's an old Jeep trail that goes up to Signal Knob, so maybe that's where they are going. I don't know, but I definitely want to get on that train.

Ok, time to get ready to go chop some wood. In the meantime, have a great Monday.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

The Tool Bag

I wanted to take a moment to talk about something that has become very dear to my heart over the past year or so, especially the past several months: my tool bag.

Last summer, I became inspired at work to assemble a new tool set replete with a domination tool bag to handle all my service calls. My buddy John, who helps with our HVAC contract, always has the latest gadgets in tools, and it is he who first introduced me to this bad-ass electrician's bag.

John D. has since replaced his (two) bag(s) with a backpack to make it easier to climb on top of buildings, but this bag, in my opinion, is still where it's at. I love it so much, I bought one for myself for home-use and began stocking it each paycheck with the best tools money can buy. That way, whenever I need something, it's not a deal. I don't worry about finding a such-and-such tool. I just go get my bag and handle the problem.

So what's in this organized bag of tricks? Glad you asked. For starters, American-made quality steel to begin tackling any challenge. Here's a breakdown of what I consider essential tools, with commentary on the best brands:

1.) 16 oz. Estwing Hammer. Estwings are the best, hands down. Made in the USA, they take the punishment and dish it out. It's worth the 20-25 bucks to have this in your sack. Their patented hand grip reduces shock, which keeps hammering relatively easy on your body, especially if you are pounding away all day. There is no mistaking the quality of this hammer. After you've used it for awhile, nothing else compares.

2.) Klein Pliers. The electrician's choice. Made in the USA. Anything and everything by Klein is Grade A select. I've had a pair of Klein side-cutting pliers for 17 years, and the domination has not stopped. I recommend all their products. In my bag at home, I keep a pair of their diagonal-cutting and needle-nose pliers as well as their wire-strippers.

3.) Screw Drivers. If you go into any home center, you will inevitably see a display with interchangeable, multiple-head screw drivers. These are ok, but I don't like that the heads sometimes come out of the sockets. It's frustration you just don't need. So I recommend getting normal, solid one piece 6 inch philips and regular screwdrivers, and keeping them very handy and visible. My personal favorite is to go with Kleins. Their rubber grip is comfortable and easy to recognize. Like most good tools, you can feel the quality of their craftsmanship each time you use them, and they will last you for years--that is, provided you don't drop them down an elevator shaft.

4.) ChannelLocks, AKA adjustable wrench. Made in the USA. Like many of my other tools, my dad always had a pair in his garage. These things are ready to rock and quality you can trust. Because there are so many situations where no other tool really works, they are a must have. ChannelLock also makes other products, including pliers, and I have a pair of their side-cutters in my bag. Their hallmark light-blue handles make them easy to find in your bag or tool box, a reminder that what you're picking up is a ChannelLock, a name closely associated with quality.

5.) Flashlight. How many times do you find yourself wondering what the last flashlight you owned looks like and where it's at? You can never seem to find it when you need it. Unless, of course, you make it a part of your tool bag. I prefer a small Maglite. It's made in the USA, can take a beating, and work reliably for years. I keep a full-size in my Jeep for emergencies.

Ok, so those are some of the essentials. Putting together an awesome tool-set is a lot of fun, for some of us anyway, and I will be back with more on what you should keep in your bag, if you can't tell already by looking at the picture.

Until then, over and out.

--Nick-Dog

Habits of Late

Hey everyone. Sorry for being such a complete slacker on the Update. I have a myriad of excuses, of course, but you know they're no good when even I'm like, "WTF, I have to update my blog, pics or no."

Yes, I have taken some pics to upload for interesting subjects of discussion, but getting them up here from home is practically a Herculean effort. A couple of would-be posts were doomed from the start when I began uploading pics and the connection died, leaving me repeatedly throwing my hands up in frustration, putting the computer down, and cursing under my breath. Well, under my breath most of the time.

Progress on the bathroom has been intermittent. Some days the commute and work saps my extra energy and I just need to chill. It's partially the fact that I so love just chilling out here at the house. I can relax here, and that feels palatial, even with the un-finished bathroom.

I also think that my inertia has to do with not training aikido regularly, which for me helps me chill out bigtime. This Weds. I made it down to class, feeling like a lethargic tub, but by the end of class, as predicted to myself, I was just juiced and ready to go.

As many of you are aware, my favorite direction for an update topic is aikido and application in everyday life. So in that wise, I would like to say that when you feel like you have no energy, but you're getting sleep, eating well, but working a lot, chances are you may not be having much, if any, physical fun.

Even if it's tossing the old pig skin with some friends, it's important to get out and play. Play is an oft overlooked good. So many people want to be good professionals, for example, that they stay late at the office and put in extra time, but it often becomes for naught when the good of play is overlooked and the person begins to feel like life is closing in on them.

But when you can just get outside, roll around in the dirt, smash people, or whatever it is you like to do, and play physically--in such a way that you are no longer worried about people at work, or that thing you gotta get done--the effect is postively transforming. Instead of worrying about work, or family or whatever, you zone in on catching that ball or swinging that bat that you've totally forgotten about everything else but that moment and can simply enjoy yourself and what it is you are doing.

In terms of aikido, Saito sensei said you should do jo or bokken suburi every day. It's easy to see why, particularly for a modern aikido-ka (or practitioner of aikido) who easily finds himself caught up in the things of everyday life. When you are focusing on completing you cuts properly, not wasting movement, the right method of extension and so forth, everything else fades into the distance and you just find yourself standing in the here and now. Chill.

And that's generally the way it should be.

Over and out, homies.

--Nick-Dog

Inspiration...

Last Sunday, Clare and I took Anastasia and the Jeep for some joy-riding after Church. Now, I used to be critical of Sunday drivers for no good reason, but these days it seems to me to be the most natural thing in the world. You know, to head out for ice cream, or a snack, and a cruise/adventure after Sunday Mass.

Fate first brought us to Woodstock, Va., where I replaced a dying Jeep battery, probably the original, and threw in some more coolant. Ready for further adventure, I took us to Fort Valley to Seven Fountains Road, where I discovered this incredibly spectacular setting.

I rolled the Jeep down into this mini-valley off-road--without a problem, of course--and snapped the shot you see here. For me, it doesn't exactly the do the moment the true justice it deserves, or capture totally the sheer granduer of the surrounding mountains and seemingly elusive Blue Ridge in the distance. Still, it does reveal something of that moment's greatness. When I hopped back in the Jeep, I victoriously proclaimed, "To go where no Jeep has gone before."

In other news, Clare and I just purchased a Jotul F3 woodstove (used) from a guy south of Charlottesville. In case you are wondering why I drove so far to get this thing, let me just first answer that the price was right for this certifiably kick-ass Norway-approved, Norway-made heat source.

Similar to the scene in the picture above, he lived on the short side of a mountain at the bottom of a majestic valley. To get to his house, I took a gravel road through an Orchard that literally had to have had something like 3000-4000 apple trees. It was incredible, especially shortly before sunset when I arrived. I wish I had pics to show, but suffice to say the view felt like the crowning achievement to a long drive. Being already familiar with this area before driving down, I was more than happy to further justify the trip to myself to see some spectacular views. And am I glad I did.

I will post pics of the stove in the future after the install, but for more information on Jotul (which is pronounced "yo-dul"), check out their website.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

The Bathroom, cont.

So, work in my bano continues. Today I put in approximately 13 hours of work around the house, but mostly in my bathroom, interspersed by an occasional Coors Light or a Coke to keep me going.

Today, I finished prepping the floor for the tile by applying thin set (mastic), hardi backer cement board, and the requesite screws. In some ways, that doesn't sound like a lot, but that included a trip to Lowe's for a paddle bit to mix the thin set. Thank God it was only one trip today. It's like that store has a syphon tube to my pocketbook.

After that, I laid the tile out in a "dry" run and successfully cut all the pieces for the floor. Because I am putting marble down, it took a painstaking amount of time to cut the tiles. My wet saw, the cheapest one you can get at Lowe's, is the bomb, but between measuring, spacing, selecting tile, locking up the blade on occasions, looking for my safety glasses for the 18th time, etc.--all that adds up, and before you know it hours have passed.

While cutting tile on my porch, I watched several storms roll in over the mountains. The sky was dark blue and spectacular, with a strong refreshing breeze as the cold front rolled in. Seriously awesome, notwithstanding the humidity. But that's what cold beverages are for.

Pics of the bathroom to come, when I can finally load some up.

To keep myself mentally in the game on this project, I just think that every day is a process in a series of steps until that final day when I can finally shut the door on the place and forget about it because I know it's done.

That said, laying tile is actually really, really cool, especially marble because it looks so nifty. While working the trowel, I felt how I think a medieval craftsman may have felt doing his craft, working to put together something architecturally mighty and stunning.

But right now, sleep sounds even more stunning. Over and out.

Ciao,

--Nick-Dog

It's not Monday, but I'm still LOCO!

Hey peeps!

So much has happened in the last 2 weeks, it's hard to choose something about which to sound off. So I'll just use the "paint with broad strokes" approach and leave it at that.

My renovation of our bathroom seems to be coming along, but, in all honesty, it has been one roadblock after another. First, the floor, then the plumbing, then leveling everything, and now I have to figure out how and where to tastefully to build the wall and install a soffet (enclosure) for the drain vent. With this bathroom, the drama does not seem to end...

My mom and dad came out last week for four days. My dad was the most completely helpful in going about tackling the plumbing in the bathroom and gave me a host of tools that I remember from when I was 5. No joke. It was actually quite moving for me to be taking this stuff. It kind of feels like the passing of the torch, if you know what I mean.

Being a homeowner is so awesome. I am so content, and I think Clare is too. We just discovered that we have a cherry tree in our yard, with more cherries than we can handle. Clare went and picked a slew of them yesterday, jarred 'em and made pie this evening, which, I have to tell you, was the most splendid treat. Eating fruit creations from your own yard is like winning the lotto and going to your favorite cafe in the Carribean. You bask in the experience.

We also have a blueberry and blackberry patch, but presently it is a domineering weed patch.

Anyhow, there are so many projects for me here, it's overwhelming, but great, because I feel like there is always something productive for me to do. "Build the kingdom," ya know?"

Also of late, I feel that I have become something of a tick expert because this area is swarming with them. Pliny called them "the nastiest creature on earth." My favorite resource is www.tickencounter.org. They don't play around over there.

Later, yo's.

Over and out,

--Nick-Dog

Not a Doomsayer, but...

Well, maybe I am.

The pic to the right is from I am Legend.

My friend Ben Hatke, about a year and half ago, introduced me to the quasi-organized body of knowledge regarding "peak oil," a phenomenon which basically means we are going to run out of oil relatively soon and our economy and way of life will change dramatically.

At the time, I was a car salesman, already seeing the desire of many customers for hybrid vehicles and gas conservation. Because of this, I thought that car companies would see the writing on the wall and make more earnest efforts to alter their fueling technology. But this has not been the case, as the automakers continue to produce gas guzzlers, even while they cut production for vehicles in North America. Ford, has recently announced plans to cut production of their best-selling F-Series and SUVs due to gas.

The F-150, the best-selling large pickup for 31 years only gets an estimated 12 MPG in the city and 18 MPG on the highway. That's awful, but that's been the industry standard for many years now and the industry, while it claims to be "green," has barely made even a dent in our consumption of oil.

Meanwhile, the auto industry in China and India is booming--and they're not drving Hybrids.

What I am gettting to is that this means a lot of consumption of fuel. I presently believe at this time that we are in for an oil shock at the pump, while the MF oil companies' revenues continue to soar to record margins to the tune of a billion a week. Some are preparing in a very serious way to handle this seemingly inevitable catastrophe, and the more gas prices spike to where the oil companies want them to be, the more I think these people aren't so loco and it's time to get a subscription to Mother Earth News.

Back at Christendom, I thought it was almost the cute eccentricity of a bygone age when my history teacher--the college founder--related the sage advice of his grandmother from Maine: "Don't let your life be ruled by a machine."

She had said this in response to the boom in mechanized industry at the beginning of the 2oth century. He had ended his class on this note, and even laughed about it, passing it on for what it's worth to reveal just a glimpse into the hardened personality of those in ages past.

Common sense is that we will one day run out of oil. Many debate when, but it may not matter if price shoots up to 10.00 a gallon and the world's economy comes to a screeching halt. Back to the horse and carriage we shall go.

And the Glock will come with me.

Over and out,

--Nick-Dog

A Shout Out to My Homies

Hey there. Sorry for the continued lack of updates, but if you've seen my bathroom lately, or lack thereof, you'd understand.

I've been working hard not only to rebuild our bathroom from scratch, but also to rectify our home's plumbing problems.

After I ripped up the floor in our only bathroom I discovered that I certainly got more than I bargained for:

1.) Termites in ages past had eaten through some of the joists
2.) Others were warped
3.) The plumbing for the entire house is not properly vented
4.) The drain pipes were also configured incorrectly, e.g., a clog in the toilet could very well become a problem in the tub or sink

Thus far, I've leveled and reinforced the joists with new 2x10s and attached them (unlike before) to the wall where they end with brackets. (Because of the wall's configuration, joist hangers, my original plan, would not have worked without serious reconfiguration.) I then cemented in 4 cement posts underneath the middle joists with T brackets in hopes that 15 years from now the floor will be just as strong.

Next comes shoring up some of the remaining floor framing, cutting out the remainder of the shoddy plumbing, and then starting from scratch with a new and hopefully improved design.

Many have said, "Nick it's so good that you can do this!" My response: Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm really just flying by the seat of my pants and trying not to get my ass kicked.

And that, my friends, is a Monday moment.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

A Quick Word..Closing Day

Hey everyone! Sorry for the lack of updates in recent days. Clare and I have been preparing, albeit at what sometimes seemed a glacial pace, for closing on our house, moving in, and renovating it, all at the same time.

So even though this day often felt like it would never come, when it finally did come, it went as fast and smooth as could be asked for, thanks be to God.

So, yes, we're homeowners now. Big Dogs. Now we have just have to open up a bottle of Wild Turkey, walk around with a couple of shot glasses in our hand and introduce ourselves to the rest of the neighborhood.

Some other good news is that everything in the house works more or less. The bad news is that the floors need some love and attention, which is hard to give when you are being distracted by 5 other things that also need your love and attenion..

We're just happy to have a place of our own, finally. Hope all is well with you. More later.

Peace.

--Nick-Dog

A Pilgrim's Journey

Well, today is so special for so many reasons, one of which is that I was able to attend His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI's papal mass at the new National's Stadium in Washington, D.C. The last I heard, some 46,000 excited Catholics were in attendence, which made for an extremely powerful experience.

The Pope said the Mass of the Holy Spirit in anticipation of Pentecost and consonnant with his trip theme of "Christ Our Hope." His homily was beautiful, but tough to understand at times because of his German accent. Indeed, his Spanish feels far more comfortable than his English. All hispanics in attendenance were thrilled that he addressed them in their native tongue, and so smoothly at that.

His preaching alighted on the theme of interior conversion from the frequent reception of the sacrament of reconcilliation, which produces an effect--holiness--that it both "inspires and accomplishes." It is the fruit of this conversion, joy, hope and love, that becomes leaven to our confused and increasingly secular society that inspires others to take up Gospel message.

The Pope also had frank and sweet, healing words of compassion regarding the grave evil of the sexual abuse scandal in the U.S. In case you missed it, the Pope had a private, unscheduled meeting with some of the victims of sexual abuse at the Apostalic Nunciature in D.C. You can read about this moving event here.

I am gladdened that the Pope has been so forthright and direct in his dealings regarding the scandal. I am presently reminded of his words (then Cardinal Ratzinger) from the 9th Station during the Papal Stations of the Cross on March 24, 2005: "How much filth there is in the Church, and even among those who, in the priesthood, ought to belong entirely to him!" To be sure, one reason Pope Benedict has come to America and D.C. is to bring healing and hope the Church for this great evil. It is my feeling, and that of those around me, that his words and example are having their intended effect.

The Pope has many messages and insights for us to be sure on this trip, more definitely than I am able to give justice to here. I just want to say, due to a lack of some time to really update, that I love Pope Benedict. He is the total bomb!

Viva el Papa!

--Nick-Dog

Some Spiritual Thoughts

Hey everybody! It's another Monday, and so it's time for another update.

Today's post, I thought, should take into account some spiritual thoughts, especially since Pope Benedict XVI leaves tomorrow morning for his historic trip to the United States.

Before Easter, I went to confession. It is a requirement of the Church that Catholics go to confession once a year during Lent. I was fortunate to go to a confessor who exuded that sense of holiness you long for when you go to confession--a man passionate about souls, someone who seriously takes into account your journey and others,' the quest to get to Heaven.

It is honestly a huge boon to go to a confessor who you know cares about you and understands, if only intuitively, your troubles and the burdens of both daily and spiritual life. At just the right moment, a holy confessor can turn the tables for you with the right words and directives. Your soul has to be willing, of course, too, to do what it must, which can be painful if you are trying to grasp and hold onto undue pride.

Anyway, I hit a turning point for myself when, on following my confessor's urging, I right then and there decided to really make every effort to say a daily rosary again in earnest. That is to say, a daily rosary approached with the mindset that I am actually going to pray because I need to to be holy, not because it's a routine I do.

Since then, I have noticed a major difference in myself and the world. Just by being really sincere in saying the rosary every day, my family and I have benefitted tremendously. For example, I am less of a jerk and way more happy. Moreover, I have been brought back to the truth that we really do come to Jesus through Mary. This isn't just a Catholic saying, but a physical and spiritual reality. In fact, my whole conversion began through the Discalced Carmelites, an austere order devoted to the due honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Anyway, I just wanted to sound off about that. Do not under estimate the power of the rosary. And do not under estimate your need to say it. St. Padre Pio, a holy and stigmatic priest, called it 'the weapon.' You can read more about the benefits of the rosary here.

I used to have a bumper sticker that said "A rosary a day keeps the devil away." If you pray it faithfully, it will. Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary, pray for us!

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

The first & the last

...cups of coffee today.

So, this morning, before getting pegged with an Orange via my cell phone, I brewed a pot of some amazing Intelligentsia Coffee. Intelligentsia on Broadway in Chicago is my favorite coffee shop of all time, hands down. I am a bit biased, of course, being from Chicago and all, but there are many other coffee enthusiasts nationwide who would agree that the shop's sophisticated ethos and name aptly reflects the sheer magnificence of their coffee and espresso, not to mention the decision to drink it.

Indeed, there are many on whom Intelligensia's greatness would and will be lost. I honestly don't mind, first, because those people really don't care anyway, and second, that means more stupendous Intelligensia Coffee for me.

This evening, Clare and I took a jaunt into D.C., admittedly to purchase a kitchen table off Craig's List. After the exchange, we took a detour to check out Tryst, a centerpiece of D.C.'s happenin' coffee scene. Though it's seemingly more a night time hang-out and Adam's Morgan social institution, their coffee and espresso was not disappointing. Perhaps not the amazingness of other coffee places, but still cool nonetheless.

So no sooner than we checked out of D.C. than we hit some traffic delays. Good thing we were well caffeniated to handle the situation. I even called WTOP to let them know of an additional delay. I talked to the traffic person, who was really cool, and she announced my update on the radio! How sweet is that?!

Anyway, that wraps up the update, albeit a day late. Watch out for oranges.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Still Fills Me with the Juice

Every time I watch it...

Hell ya.

--Nick-Dog

To be a Champion...

That is, a Champion Spark plug.

Today I changed the Spark Plugs in the Jeep to Champion 4412s--good, old-fashioned Made in the US of A truck plugs, and now the Jeep runs smooth as silk. Thank you fellow Jeepers for your online reviews and recommendations. Good to remember.

But more importantly, Happy Easter! Christ Is Risen! Indeed He is Risen.

So that's it for now. I am chomping at the bit to get into my new house. We are looking forward to cracking open a bottle of wine and celebrating. I have the perfect bottle for the occasion, too.

More later, juicebags!

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Rolled by....

This weekend rolled by faster than I could say, "What the...?"

Yesterday, Clare and I went to Olde Town Occoquan, which is mostly for old people who want country crafts, and then traipsed out to Strasburg to scope out the new house and explore the area a bit more. We visited some of our hillbilly neighbors--er, I mean, just passed by their houses--and it was such an eclectic mix of old buildings, some new ones, and, of course, ones in between.

It was just good to be out there envisioning the possibilities and looking forward to the move, sometimes after our new closing date of April 30. We decided on a locale for the eventual garage, which won't interfere with the main view. Also good to note, is that our view of Signal Knob, at least, depending on where you stand, should be visible all year round, which is damn good. I look forward to sipping beverages on our porch and gazing out to the mountains (hell, yeah!)

Today we went for a moderate hike in Caledon Natural area, though we didn't see any caledons (aka, bald eagles). It was more of just an excuse to get out and walk with nature. After a brief stop at Hyperion Espresso and Old Mill Park, we got a seat at St. Mary's in the cry room, where I chased Anastasia back and forth during the reading of the Passion.

So here I am, back at the in-laws, listening to the wood crackling in the wood stove as I type, waiting on din-din to be served.

So, not much else is going on, really, other than eagerly awaiting our transition from here to a new house.

Thanks for stopping by. Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

"Sweating Metal" & YouTube

So, this week flew by rather quickly--about as the fast as the winds blowing through this region yesterday at gale force. I had to go check out a fallen tree at work. Thankfully it landed quite safely on the grass. Anyone under that thing would have been gacked.

Determined to learn the art of soldering copper, I re-embarked this week on the craft as we move to towards completion of Phase II of our office renovation project at work, the kitchen/work area. With the exception of the electrical and floor tiling, we are doing everything ourselves from the demo to the plumbing to the finish work. We will probably have the counter installed, too, since I don't think it comes any other way.

Anyway, part of the job is to plumb for the kitchen sink. I ripped out the old one, cutting the copper lines that led to the faucet in the process, figuring (correctly, thank goodness) that I could just solder on some new and improved connections for the faucet.

Back in August, I gave soldering a shot in the rectory and it was very nearly my downfall. When the rectory was built, the builders did not install shut-off valves for any of the exterior faucets, let alone access panels. So when I had to take out the exterior faucet, I had to rip out the drywall and then cut the pipe. When I tried to resolder everything back together I failed at every turn. No matter what I did, failure became a closer and more familar companion.

So I learned the hard way that you don't just go cutting copper pipes with abandon. I eventually called a really cool plumber to handle the situation, but that's not a scenario I want to repeat, especially since I was at the rectory that night until 10 PM, trying to figure out a temporary solution to my problem. With no shut-off valve other than the rectory water main, I ran a long piece of black tube out the window and into the grass for the night until my rescue the next day.

Part of me thinks I was at the church so late because, as I found I out the next day, other events were afoot. The church food pantry was broken into that night, sometime after 10:30 PM, and I think the Holy Spirit conspired to keep me there for whatever reason. And let me tell you, if God doesn't want you to succeed, you will definitely not succeed. In this case failure certainly seems to have been part of His will.

So anyway, with not a bit of trepidation, I bought some more plumbing stuff, went to my shop, lit the torch and began heating the metal so I could solder. I have never seen this done, though I knew the elements, sort of, of what you are supposed to do. Having always considered myself the friend of the torch, I was not too put off, but after five or ten minutes of torching I began feeling that my technique was incorrect.

Well, I was right. I went online to see if I could find some soldering videos and came up with a bunch of great, illustrative stuff on YouTube that showed me the error of my ways. Instead of heating for 10 minutes, which, I learned, actually oxidizes the metal and prevents you from soldering correctly, you heat quickly for 8-10 seconds and the solder gets sucked into the joint, zips around the metal, drips and then you're good to go.

Simple! I was making it way, way more tough than it had to be. After my YouTube instruction, I started soldering like a moefoe, which, as you can imagine, with my history of soldering misadventures, felt entirely too good.

So if you have a home improvement or construction question, YouTube may be the answer to your woes.

Good luck and over and out!

--Nick-Dog

To Train

Sometimes I think about life. LOL. I know, that's dangerous. It sounds like the beginning of a joke, but in all seriousness, as I think, I've noticed that my time to really ponder life's mysteries has been usurped greatly by my numerous duties.

I am at peace with that, because I have been blessed to have received answers to my many, many questions. I feel very satisfied, knowing that, at some point, you just have to take the leap and live what you've learned, putting your knowledge to the test, to handle--with some degree of finesse, hopefully--the battles and drudgery of daily life.

For those who have chosen the warrior's path, daily life becomes the battlefield. I can't imagine what it is for others, because that's what it's always been for me. Often the test comes first and study comes later. Sometimes it is bereft of enemies and othertimes the din of war is ubiquitous.

But it is a windy path, one that winds around always, with long grand vistas at times and at others valleys shrouded in darkness, where we are either made or broken. Regardless of my specific spot on the road, however, and my feelings about it, I am invariably brought back to one of my favorite quotes by an old Japanese spearmaster, Deishu Takahashi:

"If a sword is not constantly polished, it will never show it's lustre."

Oh, and this is me getting launched by one of my favorite teachers. I guess that's what you might call "getting polished."

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Renovations Ahead

Hey there everyone!

So it is finally March! Hip, Hip! That means we are one tangible month closer to getting into our house.

But it needs work. Cleaning and work.

The realtor has given the go-ahead for us to start cleaning after our financing is finalized. So we are waiting on that.

Then once we actually get the house, the first item of business is to gut and then completely redo our 5x7 bathroom. On the inside it looks like an outhouse--no joke. Clare thinks it's appalling, particularly the faded Mustard Yellow Shower/Tub drop-in, but I have seen way, way worse. Still, I am hoping that with some elbow grease and a hammer my HGTV addiction will not have been for naught.

Yesterday we made a family excursion to Home Depot for a change (we usually go to Lowe's) to get the creativity flowing. Since the bathroom is a small space, we can afford to be a little more choosy about what goes in it, since you can only install so much in a 5x7 area. Without really expecting it, we found the ultimate flooring at el cheapo prices. We picked up some beautiful 1x1 marble tile for less than $10 a box (5 sq. ft.). Not bad, when you only need to cover 24 sq. ft. or so.

My plan is to go for high-end style in a mini-bathroom. I think it can be pulled off, more or less, except that it's just such a small space, it's going to be tough to make it feel opulent, let alone functional.

My budget for this project is about $1000. More or less. I am sure I will go over by a hundred or two when you bring in all the fixtures and drywall. Considering the fools on T.V. will spend upwards of 30k on their master baths, I don't consider this too unreasonable.

I am just ready to rip the damn thing apart.

Over and out,

--Nick-Dog

The 11th Hour

It's 11:10 PM as I start this post. I'm gonna keep it short, as I will be needin' to get to work on the morrow. Below is another pic of our soon to be house (God-willing!) from the street on a nice day.

More to come after this Thursday meeting with the Home Inspector. Please pray, if you can fit us in, that everything goes well with the inspection.

God Bless! Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Under Contract...

Well, almost.

Clare and I have bought a house in Strasburg, though it is closer to Front Royal than Strasburg. It's a foreclose fixer-upper with a stupendous partial mountain view and generous yard, bordered by a churtling creek.

Here's a pic:

So, that's what's been up with us!

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

More Ultra-Right Wingers Sound Off...

Put another way, law-abiding citizens need to be allowed to carry guns on campus.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Don't Say "I Told You So": Buy Your GLOCKS Now!

Hey folks, just wanted to chime in quickly. I don't think I'm a fear-monger when I say gun-wielding psycho-paths are becoming more bold. Over the past few years, we've witnessed shootings of the Amish in Intercourse, Pa., the rampage at Virginia Tech, and now again at Northern Illinois University.

I am pissed. This is the generational legacy that my daughter is inheriting--Cho wannabe's.

After the last blood-curdling massacre, I said Cho may not have gone as far as he did if students returned fire. Fred Thompson agreed with me. And now we are faced with another sick wack-job, and Utah continues to remain the only state that allows its university students to carry a legally owned firearm on campus.

Granted, no sane person wants guns in the classroom, but the stakes have changed. Armed maniacs are ambushing unarmed students in class. Even the Amish aren't safe. There's only one solution: return fire. Today it was a school in Northern Illinois. Several months ago Christian churches in Colorado were being attacked, that is, until the guy got gunned down.

But tomorrow, it could be a department store. Who knows? Getting caught in a showdown with an armed psychopath is not high on most people's A-list of things to do. But one day we may not have a choice. These locos need to be capped and bagged.

Let us not forget: The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Carpetbagged

Sorry I missed you all on Monday, but I decided to take a hiatus and attend to other matters...like watching HGTV and reading Drudge.

Now that our depature from the Olde Dominion is pretty much imminent, I have been fiendishly taking every opportunity I can to re-immerse myself in the Civil War and become more personally aquainted with those many places in our state that have become historical markers of that great event.

This past Sunday, Clare and I visted Chancellorsville battlefield. I always thought Chancellorville was a town, but not so. It was a plantation owned by the Chancellors at an intersection where the battle took place.

I can't fully express how completely pumped I was to visit the battlefield, free visitor's center, and take as much of the driving tour we could fit in before mass, but I was thrilled. For years, I have slowly but surely been gaining a sort of topographical appreciation for Virginia and the events that took place here. It was the Civil War that first attracted me to this area, the Shenandoah Valley and then, finally, college.

I'm so grateful that I've been given the opportunity to live and be here. And you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll be cramming as much of Virginia's heritage in as I can.

Over and out,

--Nick-Dog

Some of My Recent Addictions

It's already been a week since my last post. Tonight, I am continuing to satiate my addiction to HGTV while posting and watching Hidden Potential at the same time. Even though it's not one of my favorite shows, I feel like I am "in the know" by staying tuned in.

So what are my favs? I enjoy House Hunters, an HGTV mainstay, Find Your Style with Karen McAloon, Over Your Head with hilarious Chicago native Eric Stromer, Carter Can with cool carpenter Carter Oosterhouse, not to mention my other favorites: Sell This House; Design to Sell; Divine Design: Design on a Dime; Secrets that Sell; and My House is Worth What?

Yah, I'm a dork.

Other than watching HGTV almost every night while surfing or playing Scrabble, Clare and I recently made a visit to Olde Towne Fredericksburg, where I picked up a cool antique to carry back to my Chicago pad (when I get one). What did I get, you ask? A chair--from the Library of Congress!

Well, I thought it was cool. It's solid wood. The vendor has all kinds of relics from all sorts of government buildings, but I had been thinking about it for awhile now after visiting some time ago, and was pretty sure I wanted one of these chairs. How cool would it be, I thought, to have an LOC chair in my office? It called to me. So now I've got one.

In other news in addition to slogging through Norwich's Byzantium, I am reading Yukon Alone by John Balzar. (Above is Emerald Lake, Yukon in the pic.) Balzac's work is easier, more contemporary fare, but awesome in its own right nonetheless, describing the 1,000 mile plus annual dog sled journey known as the Yukon Quest. Very worthwhile, if you are interested in dog-sledding.

So that's an Update. Please pray for Clare and I's move. We need to get a house.

Thanks, take care. Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

PS--Blogger is being a pain. Sorry for the formatting.

Byzantium

Did you think I would miss today's post? Not today, my friend.

To the right is a picturesque shot of what modern Anatlya, situated on the Meditereanean in Southern Turkey, must have looked like during the apogee of the Byzantine empire (or any other time for that matter, but stick with me, ok?)

One may well imagine the early Byzantine soldier staring at these mountains wistfully, gazing at a similar awe-inspiring sunset and wishing, perhaps, for more peaceful times.

My inspiration? I have been reading Sir John Julius Norwich's epochal History of Byzantium. Actually, I am reading the truncated version. It's thorough, though a whirlwind and easy to forget the particulars of all the minor emperors. One thing, however, is for sure: the succession of emperor to emperor, reign to reign was often a very bloody, despicable affair. At least in the first 500 years of the Empire, assinations and usurpation was often the norm, even as barbarian or middle eastern hordes stood eager to engulf the Empire's all-too-often vulberable borders.

Americans take for granted their liberty to elect officials to office and form of government. We do not have psychotic rulers standing in the Elipse (a present-day cultural equivalent to Byzantium's Hippodrome) planting a purple boot on the trembling neck of a previous Emperor or failed usurper, before ordering him blinded and thrown into prison at best, or tortured and then sent to a furnace at worst.

No, we tolerate a barbarism far more hidden in its ugliness though fundamentally the same: crimes against life, i.e., abortion, euthanasia, human embryonic stem cell research and the like.

Though what of events of greatness? For me, one event stands out so nobly above all the rest that it encapsulates all that is great about Byznatium and its sense of destiny.

On September 24, 628 A.D. Basileus (Emperor) Heraclius returned most triumphantly to Constantinople after saving the whole empire from the Persians, an event for which posterity must thank him (lest we'd be speaking Farsee today). Before him went the True Cross, rescued from the Persians who stole it, while cheering crowds thronged behind the city's legendary walls, awaiting to see it placed in Hagia Sophia, one of the greatest churches in all of Christendom.

This is greatness. If only the rest of the Empire's history was so magnificent. Every age faces towering obstacles. We just need to surmount our own.

--Nick-Dog

Excellence...In a Cup

Yesterday was superb. Clare and I made the trip to D.C. and a visit to my favorite tea shop in the world: Teaism.

As a tea-enthusiast, I'm very critical of high-end loose tea establishments, but as far as I'm concerned, Teaism--only to be compared with Dragonwell in San Francisco--sets the standard for excellence.

Teaism's R Street location is a trendy American tea-house that serves Asian-inspired cuisine paired with a refined selection of essential teas. The tea and other menu options work together harmoniously to create an unequalled, urban zen experience.

For me, what makes Teaism so completely stand out is their food menu and atmosphere. Their tea is quite good--very good--but anything I've ever sampled from their menu is wonderfully different and utterly divine. The air at teaism is chic and mellow. On weekends this location is packed, but during the work-week you can catch a table upstairs with a window view. In Spring and Fall, those windows open to let in a delectable breeze.

All that said, in my experience the folks who work the register are not great representatives of tea and often share no enthusiasm or appreciation for the place, which is a very big negative. Even still, I find I can overlook this flaw because the place is so good otherwise.

One last thing: be watchful of your tea. They use a ton of tea in the infusion and you don't want to overbrew. I think they may also overheat their greens, using water that is too hot. Maybe that's just me. The brews virtually always end up being supreme.

Try an apricot tea cake and Jasmine Pearls for extreme bliss.

Thank you, Teaism, for ending the corruption of tea...at least in one corner of the world.

Over and Out,

--Nick-Dog

Mowth Displacement!

Well, here it is. The eve before Monday. And what shall I discuss? The options are many, but ultimately, "there can be only one." Yah right.

My mouth is still enduring some serious gak-age from early last week when I had my wisdom teeth ripped out with a forklift. Since then I have been treated to, I mean with, 1000 mg. of Hydrocodone, aka Vicodin, every four hours, which is what serious yuppie-junkies use to find their inner-buddha.

Life has been somewhat tough. No real food except yogurt and milk shakes. I call it the Nick-Diet, since I think I've been losing weight. Move over Jenny Craig. Your end has come!

My lower teeth were pretty impacted, so the healing process is slow, relatively speaking. My whole chin is numb with disbelief and pain. Feeling in my lower lip seems to be returning, but I can't really tell. I was warned beforehand that it could be numb for life, since the lower-teeth were so close to the main nerve. Yikes. It could also effect my flute-playing, but I pray it doesn't, not that I've been playing all that much of late.

Actually, life feels a lot better with no wisdom teeth. I kinda wonder sometimes if when they pulled the teeth out they took some of my hard-earned wisdom as well, because I just don't feel as wise. I really don't. I feel silly. Actually, it's probably just the drugs.

Yippie-ki-yay!

On a more serious note, Clare and I are still here in po-dunk, confederate-flag-in-my-old-Ford-pick-up Stafford. We have decided to move to Chicago indefinitely. We will move sometime in the next few months, though we're not sure when. And then it's Sanfratello's, here we come!

Juice-out Juice bags.

--Nick-Dog

The Moment of Truth -- Take 2!

Well, today was--is, actually--a Monday of Mondays. Really, it's been quite a day. Not only did I recieve a truly substantial raise from my job in Dale City, VA, but also I learned that the offer we put on a sweet fixer-upper in Hammond, IN looks like it's going to be accepted--like tomorrow.

Yes, for those of you who don't know, it looks like we'll be moving to Indiana sometime next month, unless, unless, well, I don't really know.

You see, I am still holding out.

I just got the raise I need to stick around, if I want. But it's not just me. It's Clare, Anastasia, Leia, and me. I prefer it that way, obviously, but now I have tons more to consider, even as I write: should I stay or should I go?

Ultimately, you go with what's in your heart, but when you are deciding for everybody it's tough, especially when you are the one putting the food on the table.

A move out to the midwest would be good for us. There's great pizza, great people (in general--you feel like you can say hello without someone scowling at you), Chicago, and family. There's a culture that you can definitely get to, other than the "who can I cut off next?!" mentality so prominent in this area.

Staying here would be cool too, but only, really, if we lived where I would truly like to live--up in the mountains somewhere. I would have a long-ass drive to work (over an hour), but I would have a sweet, sweet setup.

I usually don't talk about something like this on this blog in this way, but I need to make my decision by no later than 9AM tomorrow. After 9AM, I won't be able to talk, because I will be being alleviated (great English, eh?) of my wisdom teeth.

So any wisdom I have goes right out the door.

Anyway, I would love to live in the mountains, ultimately, but it is probably not the best decision collectively, at least not right now. Now that I have a wonderful job at a wonderful place alongside a sweet raise, skipping town is not high on my list. I prayed to St. Joseph to get this job, and I've been praying all along to him about leaving, and I wonder if he was in similar shoes when God directed him to leave Bethlehem for foriegn lands. Had St. Joseph just landed a sweet gig making furniture or building a house for the local authorities, making good money, when the Holy Spirit swept into his life and told him to flee?

I honestly don't know, but that is the Gospel that is speaking to me most right now. It is difficult. I think we will go, but I am very emotionally attached to my job, Virginia and all that it represents for me (that includes my friends, amigos). Don't get me wrong, I am attached to the midwest, too, but in a different sort of a way.

It's just tough. Decision time usually is. We'll see what happens.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

"Cracked" at Katzinger's

Well, once again, I am posting a week later than initially anticipated. But better late than never, right?

You may recall that when I was in the car business, we used the term "cracked" to describe when we maximized profit on a customer. Ever since then, I have been entirely wary of entrepreneurial attempts to sack my pocketbook.

So it is that I walked into Katzinger's Delicatessen in Columbus, Ohio (featured in the pic) yesterday on our return trip from Chicago. I had stopped once before more than two years back after haphazardly discovering the establishment. I recalled the location, the lofty, left-wing attitude of its customers and that President Clinton ate there while in office--there's a pic of him visiting the place on the wall.

I remembered how Katzinger's is in the old German village section of Columbus. It's the "cultural" section, the same way you think of "cultural" when thinking of DuPont Circle in D.C., or Belmont in Chicago. It's clean. There's brick paved streets and architectually pleasing structures throughout. But the gay element hangs around like a series of bad apples.

The one thing, though, that I forgot is how outrageous Katzinger's prices are. The minimum price for all their sandwiches with meat was $9.95 (1/4 lb.). For the 1/2 lb. try $11.95.

Ok, to be fair, Katzinger's makes some great--even fantastic, to-die-for--food, and not all of their prices are horrible. They support local industry and all that. They offer unlimited pickle action, great deli ambience and a selection of olive oils that would probably make any olive oil enthusiast drool profusely. I say "probably" because my olive oil experience is limited, but still took the time sample some of their available varities and checked out their overall selection. It was all top notch, but so were the price tags.

Anyway, my point: $12.00 for a sandwich?! WTF? I don't pay that in NYC where sandwiches dominate all over the place. This is Columbus middle-of-nowhere Ohio. My sandwich at Katzinger's was good, very good, but at $11.95 I am expecting fireworks and small nuclear explosions. Clare's sandwich, on the other hand, was out of this world and arguably worth every hard-earned penny. Hmmmm.

This brings me to my first and primary point. I was cracked. I know it. I practically walked in knowing it. They lost money when it came to the pickles, I hope, especially the ones we pocketed before leaving. You laugh, but I kid you not. Katzinger's pickles made it to Stafford, VA as surely as you can say "Dill or Garlic?" and "No bloody shame."

So, you the reader, are probably asking (and rightly so) why I bothered to spend the money, then, if I abhor the prices that much. Well, the truth is I abhor virtually every fast food chain in America except Subway much more in principle than I do an off-the-beaten path, mom-and-pop liberal food-shrine like Katzinger's.

I guess you can say I am nearly an ideologue when it comes to my food. I buy organic as much as I can and would willingly high-five in the middle of the store a like-minded conservative for shopping at Whole Foods. When I shopped there regularly, I never had to worry about my meat being recalled for hormones and shit being pumped into it. I just went back into my apartment feeling fortunate and exuberant about my amazing, tasty and environmentally-friendly food.

There are some who have called me and believe, quite seriously, that I am a yuppie for my preferences in food. Oh, shame on you for not knowing any better, fools! I consider myself as having superior and sometimes expensive taste, yes. It's slightly arrogant, maybe, but when you have had supreme, whether it's mom's home cookin' or a 5-star restaurant, you know when something's low-grade. You know when something is shit. When you have taken the trouble of creating a healthy diet consisting of quality foods that you can afford, you have a pretty good idea of when you are being served 7-day-old f'ing roadkill.

Yuppie, a term coined in the 80s, actually means "young, upward moving professional." But also tends to refer to the kind of people who lack a personality outside the bounds of a corporately defined atmosphere like Starbucks, a corporation that has successfully created an ethos that implies it has a monopoly on cool. Except in a pinch, I eschew Starbucks and the man-bag wielding fags who think they're the shit because they know the difference between a grande and a mocha. Dudes. Starbucks is hit or miss. Often, it is passable. Their espresso is usually fairly good, yes, but their coffee is generally no-better than caffienated poison.

But it's not the coffee drinks that piss me off so much as its corporate attitude and culture, which might well say: "If you don't drink coffee here, you have no taste and make up the sector of society we can safely entitle 'the nameless rabble.'" Yah, ok. Right. While I think Starbucks has created more enthusiasm about coffee in general, it has lowered the bar culturally when it comes to superior coffee.

But this post is not about coffee as much as it is about food. Should we bother paying more for excellent fare even if it is located in a painfully liberal and quasi-arrogant place like Katzinger's in Columbus, OH, or Georgetown, or Hyperion in Fredericksburg, VA? My own thoughts on the matter is to choose your battles wisely, should you even care in the first place. I can only handle so much of the freaky-deaky liberal-types who tend to frequent said shops and keep them in business.

Indeed, it's a shame that it's liberal idealogues who most often, it seems to me, form the vanguard of the "good food" and "good food awareness" corridors in the more upbeat neighborhoods across our country. It's not something we tend to think about, but nevertheless an issue so close to home it's in our refrigerator. Eating better food may cost more money in the end, but I think the rewards are highly worth it.

Happy New Year,

--Nick-Dog

Long Live Poland!

So, it's been a bit. Sorry about that. I meant to update last week, it just didn't work out the way I had hoped.

Well, it's only a little over 5 days at the time of this writing until we leave for Chicagoland. As you may recall, last May, Clare and I visited the region and had a wonderful trip. We are hoping for a repeat experience, since we are fairly set on moving back to the region. While I will miss the mountains and beach nearby, I'll be happy to be in a saner area with nicer people and wonderful breakfast shops, not to mention the hosts of other foods and cultural attractions that are available.

Today we celebrated with Clare's family the Christmas season with dinner and a gift exchange. I got some cool stuff: Fundamental Refrigeration, by Gunter; some socks from Vermont, and gift cards for Lowe's and Gander Mountain. I also bought myself a much need new Carhart work jacket to withstand artic blasts.

On the side, I have been distracting myself by reading the last quarter of Dr. Carroll's The Rise and Fall of the Communist Revolution. I had always meant to actually read the whole book in it's entirety--I've read numerous bits and pieces at one time or another--but never made the time or maintained the motivation to read it in full. The sweet thing about this history is that it's broken up into very succinct bits that are easy to digest. So it's relatively easy to put your mind around a historical event or series of events fairly quickly, which is important when you have chores and a baby to attend to.

One subject I have found particularly fascinating is Mikhail Gorbachev. He's a mystery. I think it's fair to say that the guy essentially dismantled, in part, the USSR politically from within, by repudiating Stalinism and allowing for the creation of multi-lateral party systems. I mean, if you are a card-carrying, Mao-worshiping commie, Gorbachev is nothing short of poison to your entire being. My own personal opinion is that Gorby was no dummy. He believed he was a true communist, but could not stomach the crimes of Stalin's regime. He saw that his country was crumbling and could not sustain itself any longer without allowing the people some sort of freedoms to handle their own problems.

Ok, I'm rambling here somewhat, but one last tidbit. Lech Walesa, one of the chief proponents and founders of Solidarity whose flag is pictured above, has to be one of the greatest heroes in the 20th century. Along with Pope JPII, he faced down the most evil regime in the history of the world with the grace of God without drawing a drop of blood, lived to tell about it, and won.

Polish pride, baby. Polish pride.

Over and out.

Nick-Dog

Mountain Extremes

"You are a hard man to find."--Danny Glover

"Apparently, not hard enough."--Mark Wahlberg, from Shooter

So, it's finally snowing. Yes. Awesome! I am more excited about having snow, I think, than I was about having summer. Well, I say that now, but I'm sure when summer comes around again, I'll be happy driving with the window down once again.

The main reason I wanted to post is this: It's now official--today marks the third winter season in a row where I not only crave the rugged wintry conditions, but want to go somewhere to live in the extreme of these conditions.

Virginia is beautiful, but it's not enough of a frozen hell for me. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but you see where I coming from. I want blizzards blowing in my face. I want mountains draped with snow. And I want hot cocoa in my cabin, sitting by the fire, with my husky(ies), my books, and my family.

I don't want much in this life, now do I? LOL.

Anyway, I am eternally pumped by the thought of hanging around a wood stove or massive hearth. That's just always appealed to me.

Now I just gotta get the house part down...

Until next time. Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

The "Nickter" scale & Ueki

Well, I thought it was funny. The joke, that is, about me taking breakfalls this past weekend during Chris's test, and getting slammed.

At the annual Aikido party on Saturday night, a group of the more rambunctious aikido-ka from our dojo continued the tradition of hanging out on Sensei's back porch, overlooking the forest, and smoking cigars. This group continues to get larger with each passing year, but it is made up of the solid core that began the tradition: Craig, Carlos, Jeff, and myself. Mike S. was also key to the start of the group, but he has moved on, for now.

So there I was smoking my cigar and drinking some outrageously delicious 10-year tawny port, brought by Scotto, when Carlos and the crew began to laugh and joke about my breakfalls during the test, because I hit the mat pretty dramatically. He proposed that we should abolish the Ricter scale for earthquakes and replace it with the "Nickter" scale. And instead of points we should have faces of Nick. So, when I got launched over Chris's hip for the first koshi-nage, Carlos said that that one deserved at least 3.5 Nicks, which I thought was pretty hilarious.

But jokes aside, Chris's test was great. He put everything out there and rocked-and-rolled the way he should. For uke, the one who receives the technique and take the fall, there is also the test of giving a true attack, maintaining control, and taking the fall in a real but artful manner.

In all my "test" experience, where I was called out to receive the technique, this was one of my best moments. Everything felt tight and juiced. After Chris threw me in a kote-gaeshi breakfall, I was back on my feet as soon as he let go of the pin, pausing appropriately to maintain zanshin and martial awareness before continuing on.

Chris and I had connected twice a week plus for a month prior to prepare, so we were already in tune with each other's movements. But when you get out on a mat full of ju-ju, with 75 people in a relatively small room, examining each of your movements, each technique, watching you, you are standing in the moment of truth. There's really no time to think about what's happening. You just do it and succeed or do it and stumble. For uke, you do it and recieve.

Ueki is the art of falling, of recieving the attack. Typically, this is called Ukemi. But ueki takes ukemi to the next level. You are not merely receiving the attack and falling away from harm, you do so in a way that is beautiful and perfect, that takes something bad and turns it into something good. That is ueki.

And I feel that I tasted some of that weekend.

Over and out.

--Nick

L is for Late (or Latte)

So I am a bit late in posting this time around, after such a good run of being on time. It's presently 3:4o AM, and I think the espresso I had earlier this evening is what accounts for my current state of consciousness.

Right now, Mona Lisa Smile is showing on the T.V. before me, and this movie is bloody painful in just about every way. Julia Roberts. Ugh.

I am going to keep this one short and say that I have been enjoying encouraging my brother-in-law Andy to follow his sense desire to go "off the grid" and move to adventure town or BFE, wherever that may be. Nearly every day he updates me on the latest far-flung properties perching on a mountain top in the middle of nowhere. It's almost always somewhere more crazy than the last time, and so it goes.

Well, I think I better try playing chess and hopefully become woozelly and lull myself to sleep.

Until next time. Over and out.

--Nick

C is Juice Factor...

Well, for some people it's the 11th hour, but for me it's the 23rd. It's still Monday, barely.

This past weekend, our trip to the Mountains turned into a trip to Culpepper, or as Agnes, my old land-lady used to say, Cul-pep-pa. Not only did she have an accent, she remembered when her daddy and his dad used to sit out on the front porch and watch the people driving their horses or Model Ts on an old Indian Path into Fredericksburg. Wow.

So Clare and I had our first foray into downtown Culpepper this weekend, where we actually got out and walked the main drag. Apparently, we picked a good weekend for this trip, as the town was having their Christmas Open-House Kick Off or something like that, albeit one week before the traditional start time. I didn't complain too much, though, as segments of the evening's brass ensemble played Christmas tunes outside for shoppers and villagers alike. It was actually pretty classy.

And that's just it. Culpepper is now classy. Too classy? That's not for me to say, but I seem to remember a time when Culpepper was the po-dunk backwater of Northern Virginia, home of the slack-jawed and the snaggletoothed. Now it is something of a country retreat for the cultured and coiffured, a reality natives probably didn't much expect 1o years ago or so, but these are different times.

In fact, if you are misfortunate enough to find yourself even farther south in Charlottesville on 29 during rush hour, you know these are different times. At least an hour away from anywhere, Charlottesville, home of prestigious UVA and Monticello, causes sheer disbelief when the roads become clogged with automobiles galore.

Anyway, my point is the landscape of Virginia has changed massively. It's not all bad, particularly in Culpepper. For such a small, Old Town area, there's a bit of everything, though mostly of interest to Northern Virginia types. Foti, an off-shoot restaurant of the Inn at Little Washington, is in the heart of town. The Camaleer, a boutique with interesting imports from continents that start with the letter "a" is fun to peruse. And there's a passable coffee shop, a nifty looking, 50s style corner cafe, and a chic French culinary establishment.

So that was our weekend. I had actually wanted to visit Wolfton too, to find a new home for us and our dog, but apparently the town has exceeded its wolf-quota, so the door--there was only one--was politely but firmly closed and we were unable to buy there.

I think we are going to bide our time, then, and buy around Chi-town instead.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

Sensei's question...

So this extended weekend has been an active one, so much so that Friday seems like weeks ago. On Friday I drove down to Richmond twice, once to take my CFC EPA 608 test to do refrigerant stuff, and again later that evening to buy Clare a new violin for Christmas.

Both trips were important, but that did not mean on Saturday morning I was let off easy. I met Chris T. at 7:30 AM at the dojo to go through some sections of his blackbelt test. Believe me, I was not pumped to get thrown over someone's hip 15 times. I know how to take the fall and all, but it was more a question of Chris learning the throw. Luckily for me, Chris' painful and uncertain hip throws had improved dramatically since this past Tuesday, where I was tossed into oblivion while my partner was left scratching his head.

The good news is that, in the end, we were able to work out the kinks in his technique, which in turn made taking the falls much more pleasant and exciting.

Anyway, I just wanted to sleep in on Saturday, but by the end of our practice and the following class I was digging it and everything felt well-worth it. I came home and then grabbed some movies, wings to go and a few replacement light bulbs for the Jeep. That night we watched Shooter, which was surprisingly good and reinspired me to live on a mountain top.

Sunday I was happy to sleep in, finally--I seem to have inherited Clare's morning fogginess by proxy. Lovely. So I pounded down some coffee, happily, as well as my mother-in-laws egg-vegetable medley and some corn muffins. At 1PM, I met Chris T. again at the dojo for a full run-through of his test. Everything went well, and at the end, Sensei asked me a question:

"So what are you going to do, between now and Chris's test, to build up your wind capacity?"

LOL. This kind of caught me by surprise, but I rolled with it. I know I need to work on my endurance levels, I always do, but I answered the question nonetheless. "Well, I am going on a hike tomororow!" which brought a rounding good laugh.

And this brings me to the subject of this Update. What am I to do? Well, I did go on a small hike today with Clare and the baby through the beautiful and winding Alum Springs Park in Fredericksburg. I carried Anastasia on my back in her Kelty carrier and felt great. Maybe that's because last weekend, I got my butt totally kicked at Prince William County park doing the same thing for a longer and more difficult hike.

I guess my point is that when we are active and actually stay active, not only do we feel better, but also we carry the benefits of our previous activity with us into the next day. It's usually easier to keep up the juice factor if you keep going than if you stop, wait a while, and then start again. You lose a ton of momentum and it feels like cruel and unusual punishment.

Because I have been a once-a-weeker at Aikido, I almost always feel like I am starting all over again by the next class, in terms of stamina and endurance. But this weekend, where I did something every day that was vigorous and active, I not only feel better in the present, but was able to carry the benefits of those activities into each successive action.

Chris's test is in less than 3 weeks. Between now and then, I will make an effort to be more active to make it through our seminar and Chris's test. Hopefully, I will get to do a crazy-ass hike between now and then too.

We shall see.

Over and out.

--Nick

Glock Talk

Nice, eh?

Well, you wouldn't believe it, but there is actually a website called glocktalk.com. To the left is a beautiful picture of a most righteous Glock 21, .45 caliber, in action. I spent some time this weekend researching this and other pistols, so I have been inspired to post and talk a bit about guns.

When I was kid, about the age of 7 or 8, though, my dad did his best to discourage all my talk about guns. I used to go on and on ad nauseum, the way kids do sometimes, about how much I liked and wanted an arsenal of firearms. Finally, one day my dad asked me why I liked guns so much. My answer, well, they kill people.

That wasn't exactly a good response, especially for my dad. The last thing he wanted was for his son to brandish play guns, dreaming of blowing things up, which, of course, is what I did. I used to carry play guns in the car and shoot at make-believe targets as we drove by. I guess I was practicing for my daily commute along I-95.

But eventually I gave up my love of guns (temporarily) because of my father's opposition to them. But he wasn't really opposed, the way anti-gunners are, he just didn't want his son turning to the dark side.

I suppose, though, it doesn't get any darker than Glock.

Many have argued that guns take lives and that the only people who really need them are the police. That is a nice thought, but it is suitable only for Utopias and authoritarian regines. Human nature is wounded, and so people do bad things. It is sure a blessing that many of us, hopefully, have not experienced first-hand an extremely violent crime, but it does not mean those things do not happen.

Ultimately, I believe law-abiding citizens should be allowed to own and carry a firearm for their and others protection. However, it is surely the decision of each individual whether they choose to excercise that freedom.

As for me, I already own a shotgun, which was, as funny as it sounds, an awesome-awesome wedding gift. Now it's time to pump up the action, if you know what I mean.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

The House Hunt

Well, here it is a day early, but nevertheless the time for an Update is upon us.

Yesterday, Clare and I made our bi-weekly trip to Richmond to visit with her Uncle Mike for the purpose of exchanging post cards and checking out a house or two.

Uncle Mike sends us a list every day of what's coming on and going off the market. So it is that I found a foreclosure that looked promising from the outside to check out for under a 100k.

What we found was a pleasant shock. A craftsman style bungalow replete with newly finished hardwood floors, French doors that lead into a finished tile kitchen, and thick, early twentieth century trim. Yes, the home is rough around the edges, but most of those issues are cosemetic. Clearly, it looked as if someone had done a fair deal of updating, but fell on hard times.

So Clare and I are in the process of purchasing this home, not as a keeper, but as an investment. With a thorough bit of cleaning, some paint and a lot of elbow grease, the optimist in me believes it will significantly increase in value.

In a way, it's very much a tragedy in our day that home prices are so out of control. Real estate is a wonderful investment all in all, but I would rather be purchasing a nice house to live in for a long time and make a home then to purchase a house, enhance it's attractiveness and then flip it so I can simply do the former.

Planting roots is a huge part of taking our place in the world, at least for some of us. I like Richmond, though it is not my first choice for a home. It is a good choice for a market to invest in I think, since there are areas in which house prices are fairly reasonable.

Again, I'd rather hang out and live the crunchy-con way, but in this day and age, it seems you must first possess the entreprunurial spirit to be a crunchy-con.

The irony, eh?

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

My Monday Feeling...

All in all I had a good weekend. Clare, Anastasia and I visited the 18th Annual Harvest Fest in Bowling Green this Saturday and it was great! There was a fleet of classic cars to gawk at, along with live music, a tractor show and street vendors, all combining with Bowling Green's small Main Street to make for a fun and lively atmosphere. It was a supremely nice occasion and I definitely feel like I got my dose of classic car show action for the season.

Speaking of automobiles, we got the Jeep back and it's back to laying the smack down to VDOT, pavement or not. The Wrangler is driving like new. The clutch is extremely smooth thus far and makes for a fine driving experience. Major props to our Hartwood mechanic, Kenny, who put everything together. He's a cool master mechanic good ol' boy type who works for Jeep out in Centreville.

As for me, work continues to be a whirlwind for all of you who monitor my travails. I received my EPA 608 Certification Study Guide in the mail today and have begun the process of slogging through it in hopes for testing for my certification in two weeks or so.

Also in 2 weeks, Clare and I will be attending the Nickelcreek concert at the 9:30 Club downtown. I hope it will be a sweet event. The last concert I went to was Tull at Wolf-Trap. They are coming again to Bethesda to Strathmore, but the tickets are way expensive for the seats that are available. Another Tull concert would be cool, but I'll catch them in 2008, if they tour.

So, despite the fact that it is the off-non-holiday season, our schedule continues to be packed on and off the clock. It's wierd how that goes, but alas, that's the way it is, I guess.

I am just looking forward to getting my HVAC Certification in a hurry, so I can start working in the trade and become a refrigerent bad-ass. Hopefully, everything will work out and I'll be able to find flexible side work where I can learn and be paid.

Next week, I'll endeavor to be more contemplative in my post, but there seems to be so much stuff going on.

Keep the Juice. Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

Gimmie Back MY JEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

Well, ok. I--we--have survived this long without it, but I miss driving and riding in our Jeep Wrangler. I love this vehicle. It is very fun, especially with a soft top--which I don't have in the first place, but it would be supremely cool if I did.

Anyway, it's been outta commission now for over a month. I brought it to the mechanic's last weekend and he, of course, discovered that it needed another part in addition to a clutch kit and pinion bearing. Ok great, just fix it and give me back my JEEP!!!!

Recently, I was driving back from a foray into town but was in my Mustang. While driving my Jeep I have become accustomed to wave at other Jeep drivers. It's called the Jeep wave, which Wrangler people customarily give to other Wrangler people. It's a Jeep thing. Anyway, I love the commardie of the "Jeep Wave" because it's total respect for one thingmand keeps you excited about your Jeep for another. So now when I am driving other vehicles, sometimes I wave.

Anyway, I was driving the Mustang and saw another Mustang and did the chill-I'm-cool-wave and the other driver waved back. It was so great. This is the second time I can recall waving from the Mustang and getting a response. Most Mustang drivers are not that tuned in to waving, but the ones who are are usually pretty cool.

So that's the story in these parts. I should also add that I have chosen HVAC as my new path for professional and personal development. So instead of Latin and Dawson for now, I am reading Black & Decker's Guide to Home Wiring and the Esco Institute's EPA 608 Exam study guide for the CFC Universal test. The translation to that last part is that I am pursuing my license to do HVAC stuff.

The main reason for this alteration in reading is that the latter works will hopefully lead to an increase in income. It will also make me more valuable at my job, or so I'd like to think.

Anyway, that's the story Gee's. Until next post, over and out.

--Nick-Dog

Richmond, VA

I know it's a little early for the Monday Update, being only Sunday afternoon, but I am trying to get ahead a bit for tomorrow's adventures.

As you may recall if you come here semi-regularly, Clare and I are in the market for an affordable place. We have found the Richmond area to be a source of sanely-priced smaller homes that are not located near or close to BFE.

So manana we are heading that way for a look at some properties. The good thing is that her Uncle is a realtor in that area and has been doing it for many years.

I have looked at lots of homes and ideas for us, and while our attention is presently drawn to this area, I know that nothing is certain until the close.

So this is basically a shout out to all of you who follow our fortunes and wonder from time to time about our home purchasing direction. Depending on the circumstances, I will endeavor to keep my job as long as possible. Despite occasional difficulties, I love working for Holy Family parish and the Church. It's good experience and work for the Lord.

So that's basically it for now. My dream is to find a really cool and affordable fixer-upper, make it sweet and keep it. I would like to build a small but impressive personal library one day, so I will need some space for that and all my other junk.

And you know, I don't keep a lot of junk, or try not to. It weighs you down. When I had two Mustangs, I remember it felt good to sell the old one, like it was a burden off my shoulders, even though it was a very cool car.

Ok, that's really it. I'll check you all later. If I find something, I will post.

Best to all. Over and out.

--Nick-Dog

Williamsburg Revisited

Well, it was nice to visit Williamsburg, finally, and now I am re-visiting this wonderful town in my post.

Let me first say that I was pleasantly reminded of how important it is for a historian to visit and touch, if possible, those things he reads about. Such adventures take one's musings about a place and time out of the imagination and make them tangible. One can not only retrace the footsteps of our nation's founding fathers, but also re-live their past, see what they saw and smell what they smelled.

And in all my smelling this weekend, several matters became abunduntly clear and real for me. No man who joined the American War for Independence did so because he didn't have much to lose. His predicament was very real. Win or die. Washington, Jefferson and Patrick Henry laid it all on the line. Had their attempts failed, they would undoubtedly have met their end at the gallows. As patriots, we should reflect on their sacrifices and be better for it.

And this leads me to my second personal revelation. What if, on an ideological level, you disagree with the American project, or at least parts of it?

Well, I suppose this could be the subject of a small library, but basically I have this to say. The founders of this country were educated in the Enlightenment, which may be objectionable on its own, but as men they took grave risks to establish our nation. For that we must respect them. They had backbone. They put their lives on the line no matter how you cut it, and so their valorous deeds ring true.

As far as the Enlightenment part goes, well, this was certainly a part of who the founding fathers were as educated men. Notwithstanding their personal piety, organized religion--as far as the Enlightenment is concerned--goes to the back of the bus when confronted with the general "progress" of mankind.

That said, the founding fathers, Jefferson most notable among them, were often fine humanists, and their contributions to our cultural patrimony are central to our identity as Americans. Whatever their ideologies may have been, places like Monticello and procedures like our practice of Law were established with noble intentions and stand as a testimony to their greatness.

So in a word I believe it is best to judge these men by their positive merits and actions rather, perhaps, than by their education alone. America's founding fathers stood up and were counted when their time came and when their countrymen needed them the most.

We should be so good to do so as well.

Over and out.

--Nick-Dog