Signatures...

Signatures...

This morning I stopped by the attorney's office and signed my name a couple dozen times. There was no ambivalence or question about it. Easy like falling off a log.

I'm told that my STBX has an appointment tomorrow to sign the same papers. Sometime after the 3rd a judge will review and sign them too. Once he does that it's a done deal.

Seems like I'll want to do something(s) to mark the occasion. I have to give that some thought...

Mid-winter...

Mid-winter...

One would think that winter has finally arrived since after weeks of hovering around freezing, the official high today was only 19, and snow fell in spurts and sputters driven by high west winds. But really, the back of winter is broken: at 6pm it was still light outside. The days are getting longer! Just a few weeks or months of snow and road salt and we'll be able to smell the mud of spring. I can remember some years when the first hint of that came as early as mid-February, so this can't last.

Sometime this week I will sign some papers because at the end of this week the 60 day 'cooling off period' expires. Sometime after that a judge somewhere will review the agreement, make a ruling, and the legal part of this deal will be done.

One useful website pointed out that the legal divorce is only 1/3rd of the deal. The other 2/3rds are the social divorce and the emotional divorce. The legal side is a problem that can be solved (and we actually have been pretty successful at navigating this, knock on wood). The other 2/3rds are more like mysteries that can be observed and pondered, but they don't really lend themselves to left-brained solutions. They also take a kind patience that is sometimes a little hard to muster. I have found that time and friends, and especially friends, help. Thanks. You know who you are.

Except for Joe's wedding I have no travel planned until March 1. I don't know when I last had four weeks in a row in the office. I'm glad - I think I can put a little of that energy into prepping for the February 25th concert!

Brother of the G String...

Brother of the G String...

My friend Steve is doing a major midlife career change. (The reference to the G String is an inside joke - maybe you have to play guitar to appreciate it.) This week Steve sent out a long account of how he aced his helicopter pilot's license on Tuesday. Here is an exerpt:

"Let's do a straight in autorotation to the taxiway with a power recovery." he (the examiner) said. "Oh boy, here we go!" I thought to myself. An autorotation is where you uncouple the engine from the main rotor, simulating an engine failure, and just glide to a landing spot, doing your best to hit the spot the examiner has designated. I lined up with the taxiway and counted out the maneuver and dropped the collective. The bottom fell out and we started to glide like a motorhome. I kept it lined up and held my target airspeed as the ground leapt up to meet us. At about tree top level I bled off 10 knots of airspeed and cut our rate of descent way down. As we started to settle I hauled back on the cyclic and pulled the nose into the air and we just slammed on the brakes and our bottoms grew heavy in the seats until we were nearly stopped over the ground about 20 feet in the air. Then I shoved the cyclic forward dropping the nose until we were level and I pulled the power back in and we came to a stationary hover about 5 feet above the ground. My mind was screaming "Awesome! That's the best ever! Wow!" the examiner just said "OK, let's do a 180 degree autorotation now to the same spot."

A 180 degree autorotation is the wildest maneuver we do. We start out flying with the wind about 700 feet above the ground and 200-300 feet off to the side of our intended landing spot. Since it was windy on tuesday and we were flying with the wind we were traveling over the ground pretty fast. When we were parallel with the spot he wanted me to land I counted it out and dropped the collective and the bottom fell out. We started to drop quickly and I banked the helicopter steeply over on it's side toward the designated touchdown spot. The ground is no longer under my feet but instead it's pretty much out the side window . As we came around into the wind I lined up with the taxiway and monitored my airspeed and rotor rpm. From there on down it was like the previous maneuver and I nailed it again! I just wanted to scream. I was so happy to get it right. He showed no emotion. We continued with various other maneuvers such as a slope landing and an autorotation to a full down landing from a hover about 5 feet above the ground.

When he had exhausted his arsenal of flying demands he had me fly back to the ramp in front of the General Aviation building and park it. Then he looked at me and said "Congratulations you are a helicopter pilot."

Congratulations indeed.

This and that...

This and that...

Ben sent me a link to an amazing video. There are so many cool things to look at out there on the web.

I've been gone all week. Monday I flew down to Miami for a conference. Colin Powell gave the keynote. He was very impressive - amazing public speaker. I can't put together the person I met with snow job at the UN. And I did get to meet him - even got my picture taken with him.

I returned late Wednesday night. Of course the biggest shock is the change in weather. Here in Northern Indiana we've hardly seen the sun for a couple weeks, and temperatures have hovered around freezing. Highs in Miami were in the upper 80s.

And in other news...

My landlord called me Monday night to tell me that my heating bill as $-71.00. That's right, a credit of $71. I guess last month's bill was an estimate and they finally got around to reading the meter. So the attic insulation he put in just before he left and the set back thermostat actually made a difference.

Gigging for octogenarians and nonagenarians...

Gigging for octogenarians and nonagenarians...

Last night the Schmatzentrubers played for about 90 of the Greencroft residents at Manor IV's monthly birthday and anniversary party dinner. Afterwards we agreed that as long as there are elderly Mennonites, the Schmaltzentubers will have a place to play. (Of course by the time we're that age we'll be deaf and stiff-fingered.)

In a word, they loved us. One woman told everyone she met that she's been attending these things every month for 14 years and we were the best she's ever heard. Another told me that we were very good because she had heard no complaints, and usually people will speak up.

I've come to believe that when it comes to performing, the level of satisfaction is inversely proportional to the amount of money you get paid. (Free jobs tend to be more satisfying than paid jobs, and highly paying jobs are the least satisfactory.) Last night we made $8 each, plus supper, which didn't pay for the glass of wine and dessert at Rachel's with the band after the show. But it was highly satisfactory.

Mom attended, and refused to let anyone know it was her first time to attend the gathering, and that this was her birthday month.

We closed with 'Just a Closer Walk', a tune my dad encouraged me to learn probably 10 or 15 years ago. When we learned it all those years back I was just starting to dabble in improvising, and I had the impression way back then that he was a little disappointed in how we played it. Its only in the last few years I've felt I can make it swing, and I think he'd really like it now. Closing out the program last night with it was bitter-sweet. We played 'Walk' at his funeral, and playing it with Mom in the audience brings back so many memories of Dad. I wish he could have heard it.

Back to the topic of music for money, check out this story about the indy musician who pays the bills writing marketing jingles for consumer products companies he hates. Buy his new CD.

Aging and the fountain of youth...

Aging and the fountain of youth...

Last week I stopped by Krogers to pick up some milk. I usually use the self-service check out, but I usually pay by check so I still have to interact to the attendant.

Damned if she didn't ask me "Are you sure you don't want the senior discount?" Come on - do I really look 65?

So today I was back and this time my purchases included a bottle of cheap red wine. The scanner tells you to show your ID to the attendant, and damned if the attendant didn't actually study it to be sure I was of legal age!

Who would expect Kroger to provide the best laugh of the morning? And next time they offer me the senior discount, I'm going to take it.

Right after Kroger's I stopped in at Jim's to see my new mandolin. Body is assembled, bound, almost ready to finish. Neck (after, he confessed, an embarrassing set back) is just about set and ready for final carving. He has a pretty good match for color with my fiddle, so he is about ready to start the finish. He told me he is out the last half of February and first part of March, so he wants to get it done my mid-Feb! I'm getting anxious to hear it.

Emerson ...

Emerson ...

One of the great things about Goshen is Sauder Concert Hall. A world class venue attracts world class performers. Tonight it was the Emerson String Quartet.

I have at least one of their recordings - a couple of the Mozart quartets - and the recording is fantastic. But hearing and seeing them live is a completely different experience. They played Mozart, Bartok, Beethoven as well as a single-movement requiem by a 20th C Dutch Composer: Neilson. Their ensemble was outstanding: each voice distinct but integral to the whole. And the energy, especially for the Bartok, was palpable. Having heard the Academy of Ancient Music in a wholly Mozart concert last spring, I found the Mozart a tad heavier than I wanted. But they hit their stride with Neilson, and they didn't let up the rest of the night.

At intermission someone mentioned that the second violinist was playing a strad. I had been watching him during the first half of the concert and had been impressed with the beauty of his fiddle, and the how it carried itself with the rest of the group. In the second half, during Beethoven, he played the first violin part and - it wasn't just knowing it was a strad - the instrument really took off. It never dominated, but it had an undeniably sweet voice that wove through the other parts like the third chocolate in a triple chocolate cheese cake.

Of course these guys look so effortless.

For an encore they played a quartet arrangement of a Bach Chorale. I don't know what it was, but when they finished, unlike at the end of Beethoven when people lept to their feet and shouted 'bravo', there was a collective sigh.

What a satisfying night!

Creativity...

Creativity...

One really has to admire this man's creativity in the face of a vexing problem. I've been in that cottage country - all those little cottages look the same.

STOP ...

STOP ...

... everything you're doing right now and put the MCCO concert at 3pm February 25th (Sauder Hall) on your calendar.

Go on... Now.

I'll wait to you get back.

On the first run through, Neil's new piece is very very cool. It is refreshing and modern, but accessible for both musicians and audience. You're going to love it.

Back home again, in Indiana...

Back home again, in Indiana...

The 8th DS team arrived home about 5pm Saturday evening, and it seems like I haven't had time to catch my breath since.

Sunday afternoon I really wanted to attend Fran's memorial service, so I went. But it was another chunk out of my day. And then I let myself avoid other tasks while I researched the local housing market. I don't mind saying that I find it a little discouraging. I have lots of time, so I'm not in a panic, but there is something unsettling to have that unresolved. I love Gypsy fiddle music, but I'd make a lousy Gypsy.

Part of the busyness is looking ahead I have something up every night this week. Its too much. I need to learn to say no more often.

This afternoon I had my biennial physical. I got to pee into a cup, and then I was weighed, measured, poked and prodded. 'Relax AND bear down.' Right. So far I'm OK on all fronts, and the back too. No sign of diabetes. Height and Weight ratio is good. Blood pressure is outstanding. Tomorrow morning I get a blood test, and the doc is also recommending the dreaded colonoscopy. I can hardly wait. Max is a really good doctor. Sits down and explains everything very well. He is an educator.

Tomorrow night we'll read through Neil's Orchid Piece for the first time. There's the rub: I'm busy, but how can I complain when it is the opportunity to rehearse a brand new piece of music written especially for our little orchestra!

Photos...

Photos...

I promised some photos, so here goes...

This is the house that I worked at all week. It is a cute little place about 4 miles south of Meridian (and in the flight path of the National Guard jets). It looks like a solid little brick house, and it even has a new roof.

We were supposed to patch up a few patches of bad plaster to make it liveable. Unfortunately as we opened those up we realized that the place had extensive termite damage. Here is a picture of one of the walls. If you look closely you can see that the studs and wooden sheathing are completely gone. In many places there is nothing substantial holding up the roof.


After several hours, we found the nest. It had been exterminated, but this is part of it.

Because of the insulation and plaster dust, we had to wear respirators. What do you think, should I use this as my photo in my blog profile?

And here is what I was using that huge crowbar for...

It wasn't all hard work. On Wednesday we took the afternoon off and played 18 holes. This was the follow-through on a nice straight drive down the fairway.

I have to check out quick and catch the bus. We have 8 hours ahead of us.

Midweek Update...

Midweek Update...

We're over half way into our service trip. Tonight I'm tired, and that is after taking a half day off today for a round of golf. I spent the first half of the week at a project called "The Volunteer House" which I renamed "The Termite House" by the end of the first day. This is a house that was donated to our host agency for use in their program. It isn't clear to me what they're going to do with it, but the idea was that we were supposed to make it liveable by patching a few pieces of plaster and fixing a few windows. Within the first hour we realized that there was very significant termite damage, and we ended up gutting the house of plaster and insulation. I'm telling you it was hard, dusty work. We wore respirators, but nothing could keep all the dust out of our lungs and eyes. We filled a dumpster full of the crap. By tomorrow we may start studding out new walls.

The damage these termites did was amazing. Entire sections of walls - 2x4 studs - reduced to a shell that you could crush with your fingers. The only places they didn't damage were, amazingly, the rafters and the brick exterior. If not for that brick exterior I think they would have bulldozed the whole thing and started over. This place is a cute little house in the country about 4 miles S of Meridian. If it were in my home town I'd seriously consider buying it (once it was rehabed). But we were told, believe it not, that there are no building codes and no construction inspection on county properties. Stuff is cobbled together in unbelieveable ways. I think the technical term is jabberwalkied.

I've really enjoyed the crew. It is a far bigger group than we had last year, but that is ok. We've had great conversations on everything from politics to grace versus guilt. Still at times I get too much of the group experience and need solitude.

We've had some great food. Today the host agency took us to Binkies for lunch. This is genuine traditional southern black cooking, with collard greens, sweet potatoes, barbequed pork, corn bread (3 types), fried chicken, meatloaf, okra... Do you get the idea there were a lot of options?

Anyhow...

Weather has been cool with highs in mid 50s most of the week (down from high 60s last weekend) but sunny skies most of the time. Golf has been good, with a 105 on Saturday and an even 100 this afternoon.

The stars are easier to see here because we're staying at a camp just North of Meridian, where there isn't much light pollution. Tonight before the moon came up they were exquisite.

I hope to post this first thing Thursday morning. The plan is to work until early afternoon Friday, and then start home. We should arrive Saturday sometime.

Photos to follow.

Ole Miss...

Ole Miss...

I woke up this morning in Jackson, a little sore from walking 18 holes on soggy ground. This was after leaving Goshen in rain and 50 degrees at 5:30am. Took the limo to Midway, met J, and landed in Jackson at noon. We managed to finish #18 in the twilight - just barely able to see the ball.

Most fun shot: I chipped on the green from about 40 yards out. The shot was perfect, but I underestimated how the soggy ground would react to my club coming through and I completely spattered myself. I haven't had such a good a laugh in a long time.

J and I discussed business and life all the way down and all around the course. We're such different people, but I really enjoy his company.

We asked a couple of locals in the course parking lot where we should go for dinner. Our requirement was 'locally owned and operated.' They sent us to the El Dorado Steak House. If you're ever in Jackson, it is the best steak ever. (With apologies to my meat-avoiding relatives.)

Today we play another round, and then I meet another J who is flying into Jackson and driving over to Meridian. I'll ride with him to meet the 8th DSers, who should arrive there a few hours ahead of us at Pine Lake Camp. Then we spend the week helping Rebuild East Mississippi any way we can. I think we'll be doing a lot of roofing projects.

I expect Internet connections will be hard to come by, so I probably won't post much this week.

Credit or blame...

Credit or blame...

The other evening I was talking with several couple-type friends about my musings about cooking for fuel or pleasure, and one of the women asked "So why did you learn to cook when none of our husbands can even boil water?"

Oops. Careful!

I don't think I'm that unusual, but as I looked around the room I realized that she was probably right: the other guys in the room probably didn't spend a whole lot of time in the kitchen.

My instincts about not standing out in a crowd kicked in and I made appropriate mumbling noises and tried to change the subject.

But blending instinct aside, the truth of the matter is that I'm either not sharp enough or honest enough to give the real answer off the top of my head.

But I've been thinking about it, and here is the real answer:

You can blame my mom for starters. She was the only female in our family of 5 and she always said she'd be damned (ok, those weren't her words, but that is what she meant) if her sons didn't know how to iron a shirt, clean the toilet, and cook a little bit. "Your wives will thank me someday," she'd say. Maybe.

I don't remember that she actually gave me cooking lessons (except how to follow the duncan hines cake mix instructions). Probably more importantly she insisted that my father cook one night a week sometime after she started back to work full time.

So you can blame my dad for the next bit. He actually took her seriously. We used to tease him mercilessly because for at least a full year the only meal he could make was what he called Swiss Steak, which was basically a roasted hunk of meat smothered in some kind of gravy and cooked for about three hours. I think it came with boiled potatoes, and probably soggy canned green beans. But he branched out from there and by the time he retired he was into all kinds of interesting stuff. (He used to say he never met a noodle he didn't like.) Ever curious, I'm pretty sure he was the one who actually figured out how to make yogurt. And keep in mind this was decades before the Internet and you could search for that kind of information with Google and get the answers in 3 seconds.

So it didn't seem unusual at all to me that my stbx (gotta love that term) expected me to carry my weight in the kitchen. So I guess you can blame her for the next part. Or me. It seemed normal. (Someday maybe I'll come back to that idea.)

Which gets me to the blame or credit thing... they're really just flip sides of the same coin. I'm glad I cook. I enjoy cooking. And I'm not that bad at it (as long as you don't compare me someone like, say, JJ). So it isn't blame as much as it is credit. So thanks Mom, Dad and my stbx.

And while you're at it, wish my Mom happy birthday tomorrow.

Oh - and let me be the last to wish you a happy new year.

Yogurt...

Yogurt...

This yogurt can't be beat. Commercially made yogurt is usually pretty mild. This first batch is a little stronger flavour, which I like. I think that is a function of the time that it incubates.

Yogurt is about the easiest thing in the world to make, and my new high tech digital cooking thermometer took the guess work out of the process. I used my rice footwarmer as the heat source, and wrapped it in a knitted afghan for insulation.

Mixed with L's orangey granola, it makes a fantastic breakfast.