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