Friday, May 24, 2013

Sunset off California's Long Beach...

Yeah, I know I already mentioned the sunset in my last post... but I love them so much I wanted to post specially about it. Because, really, it was just so gorgeous.
 

Those palm trees add so much atmosphere... 

...
 
It was a lovely set, what with the perfect coloration and all. Hard to not see all that bundled beauty there. Back at home, I already miss that California sunshine.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Daft Scotsman hits the beach

Well, my clan surely does love to go on family vacations together. We don’t always get to take them each year, but this year after receiving a wedding invitation from some friends down in California, we decided to make a really big deal out of the whole ordeal and travel down to Cali as a family (Minus one…) for a week. It was an unforgettably fun time, with incredible experiences which are sure to be sweet memories for the rest of our lives.

I had to put in for the time off from work of course. And I’m really glad I took care of that some three months ago or so, because I don’t think I would have gotten it if I had submitted the paperwork any later. Work’s been kinda’ crazy and I’m a pretty well-loved employee, so it wouldn’t have been easy getting the time off on short or shorter notice. Nonetheless, I did get the thumbs-up to go, and I kind of counted down the days up ‘till my departure. My co-workers were all pretty bummed that I was going to be away for a week, but I was pretty excited. The day before I left, this song kept running through my head.

When Wednesday finally rolled around we bopped down to Sea-Tac much too early in the morning. The flight down to Burbank was actually pretty basic. I love flying, and jet liners can be tons of fun, but the Seattle to Burbank flight was just not all that eventful. Getting a family of nine with all our carry-on luggage and… whatnot… through airport security was all sorts of fun, though. You have to read that last sentence with a voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. Because really, it was insanely stressful. Checking as much luggage as you can, before you even reach the security checkpoints, is the smartest way to travel. Perhaps not the cheapest, but for sure the smartest. Anyway – we all made it through security and reached our gate with plenty of time to spare, so we hit Starbucks to keep from hitting the floor. About the time our coffees were gone it was time to board the plane and off we flew to Bob Hope’s lively and tiny little airport in Burbank, California. Like I mentioned the flight was uneventful. No gremlins on the wings, no crash landing off the coast of a deserted island, and no bogies on the horizon. Smooth flight, smooth touchdown. And then it was the mad scurry to gather the crew into the rental van. We visited Grandma first, which was lovely. She took us for a walk around Glendale and took us for lunch at one of the coolest Mexican restaurants ever. The atmosphere was delightful, the food was incredible. It was a good time. We walked Grandma back to her house and then took off for the condo Mom and Pops had reserved for our week-long stay in Cali. It was situated in North Hollywood and turned out to be a charming enough little place. I’m not the kind to go about taking pictures of all the rooms, but it was cozy little den and suited us rather well.

Matty finds the switch for the ceiling fan...

It was a nice fan...

On Thursday it was off to Disneyland. I had never been, and neither had a one of my siblings, so we were all absolutely bloated with excitement. Pops made record time and we were there in something around an hour. (Really – that’s a pretty short drive for our family as we’ve grown accustomed to longer commutes.) We found a nice parking spot and were in the park not long after, with pops already feeling the burn in his wallet. Entrance cost to The Happiest Place on Earth is a little over astronomical. Basically put: getting in ain’t cheap, son. From there we kind of just meandered the park. Most of us were just shell-shocked with amazement as we staggered around. And I’ll tell you, the place oozes immense quantities of charm. The rides are adorable, the themes are fantastic, it was a lot for our poor, over-stimulated systems to handle. We rode on a lot of rides, stood in a lot of lines, ate a lot of sugar, absorbed a lot of sun, and absolutely over-dosed on amusement. People are always telling me that Disneyland is quite over-rated but I find myself more privy to believe it under-rated! I had so much fun!
Just... so... magical...

Bethy and me waitin' on the bathroom-goers...
 
We also spent a fair bit of time shopping around the park. Despite the honestly ridiculous price tags, a number of us were dead-set on bringing home wearable souvenirs to flaunt. The three eldest ended up purchasing sweatshirts (As well as a couple antenna toppers for me…) while the younger folk in our company chose toys and plushies. All items were priced as to leave the purchaser lame and blind by the time the transaction was complete. But while I continue to complain about the pricing of pretty much everything about Disneyland, I have to continue to reiterate the amount of sheer enjoyment I got out of the park. Because really – it was an incredibly fun way to spend an afternoon. Between the gorgeous weather and the over-powering charm around every turn, it was nothing but unforgettable buckets of joy. The best word to describe it all? Magical.

LEGO Hulk at the LEGO store just inside Disneyland...

Matty, Hannah, and Me in line for Space Mountain. (Our favorite!)
 
We spent most of Friday with the family of an old friend of Pops’. They were very gracious and generous hosts, and just really good people. All enjoyed themselves as we told funny stories and heard about Pops’ and his pals’ many crazy adventures from his Cali days. It was a good day which came to an end all too soon.

One of the primary reasons we even went on this hair-brained adventure was because our family had been invited to a wedding by some long-time friends of ours. It made for a little more difficulty in packing, as we had to be sure to bring appropriately fancy attire and all that implies, but we got it all figured out in the end. Saturday popped up right in the middle of our wonderful trip and that meant the wedding was upon us, so we headed off to the house of the same friends who invited us to wash and iron our wedding clothes and dress for the evening. They had their pool all ready for us when we arrived, so we all went for a quick dip. I enjoyed myself so much I entirely forgot how easily my white, sun-deprived man-flesh burns in direct sunlight and not until dressed and awkwardly making my way around the wedding did I realize just how well the sun had done its dirty work on my chest, back, and shoulders. After the happy evening came to a close and we’d made it back to our condo pad, I shrugged off my clothes to find my throbbing torso glowed red in the low-light. Needless to say, sleeping was far less comfortable from that point on. As were seatbelts, backpacks, and piggy-back rides. The wedding had been a pretty venue though. Catered by In-n-Out Burgers… And thus a very yummy venue as well.

Sunday morning was spent at Grace Community church. Somehow I expected it to be a bit bigger, from so many people telling me always how huge it was supposed to be. The services were packed with hundreds of people, but somehow it just didn’t feel as big as I had imagined. The service was nice enough though and spoken from the heart. After church we went out to Travel Town to check out the choo-choos and get some pictures. The place has changed since last I was there. Basically the entire park has been safe-a-fied as to keep younglings from injuring themselves and thus just about every train car or engine is off limits for all but observing from a distance. Also, nearly all of the miniature trains have been removed or something, because I remember there being a lot of them in all shapes and sizes, but I only saw three equally-sized tracks. Basically everything awesome about Travel Town is gone or changed. So now it’s just plain, old bore-o’town. The mini-trains for riding on were still there, though, and that was a fun aspect. Except for the fact that it’s supposedly free, yet they twist your arm for a donation of some kind. Jerks. Pops is way too generous. If it were me, I would have told them to go pound sand. After we filled up on disappointment we headed for the observatory from which one could see the iconic Hollywood sign. Upon arriving, though, we discovered that everyone and his mother decided that that very afternoon was an excellent time to steal our idea, and the road was lined with hundreds of cars. No parking. Bomb-out. Instead, we drove around with Mom and Pops as our tour guides filling us in on the significance of different buildings and places that had once been very, very familiar to them.

Hannah and I spied as many Mini Coopers as we could during our drives.

Monday was spent chilling at the condo. Grandma came for a visit and we chattered a bit. Then she said goodbye and we loaded into the van and headed out to our friends’ place (The same place where I received my awful Sunburn…) for supper and fun. It was an enchanting evening, really. Though I decided not to swim this time around and instead tried my best to burn my legs so that they’d match the most of me. (It didn’t work… my legs are tougher. They’re kilt legs…)

We spent Tuesday at Longbeach. Browsing the shops and sitting in the sand. It was a beautiful day, albeit a little breezy. I loved every minute of it though. We ate at a little taco joint which has the best fish-related Mexican food I’ve ever had. Our clan just about cleaned them out of chips and salsa though. Also – Hannah found a dead cockroach in her dish… which was an interesting ordeal. It was yummy food nonetheless!

Long beach...


...
 
From the pier...
 
Oil rigs are so cool...
 
Gorgeous Californian sunset...
 
...
 
Wind-blown hair and a sunburned face...

Almost gone...
 
Hannah is such a beach-girl...

Goodbye...
 
The next morning meant packing up and heading to the airport. After fighting our way through the ticket-booths and security, we made it to our boarding gate. On the plane, though, finding our seats somehow got rather complicated and we ended up shuffling around a bit. Of course during our trip my Zune had to throw a little fit, which meant I had no music to listen to on the flight back to Seattle, which only forced me to pay attention to my book and burn through some seven or eight chapters. (That’s really good for me… I’m a slow reader.) Getting onto that plane was a really sad thing for me, though, in more ways than one.

I certainly was glad to get home to my friends. But I had made so many fond memories in Cali, I didn’t want to leave those places and times behind. I also had fallen in love with the gorgeous weather and was sorry to return home to rainy Washington state. I also have a sinking suspicion that this was probably the last family vacation we’d be taking together. Already Sarah had been absent so in a way it wasn’t truly a family vacation, but the rest of us had been together and had had so much fun. It was saddening to think this group probably wouldn’t be traveling together again anytime soon, if ever again.

It was an amazingly fun trip. And I’ll remember the times we had and the laughs that we shared for the rest of my life.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Party

Me? I love parties. I don't really know what it is about them that attracts me, but I'm kind of a big party fan. And while "the more the merrier" is often my motto, it doesn't have to be a big, massive, crowded, body-mass where you can't hear yourself think (Let alone carry on a conversation with someone!). I'm cool with small-sized parties. And two person parties can often be incredibly fun. I'd like to think that wherever I go, I bring a bit of a party with me. Kind of like a party delivery service...

Anyway - semi-recently I came across this hilarious comic page by Anthony Clark. Many may find it not the least bit funny, but I found it humorous primarily because I relate with party cat on so many levels.


Anthony's other comic-strips are equally funny. Check out the whole real here. And party while you're at it. Man... it's been too long since my last party. Probably about time I fixed that.

On another note, my previous laptop's video card bit the dust. And while I realize that I don't really post often, hopefully thanks to a new laptop, I will be able to post more frequently. Cheers! And go throw a party!

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Rantin' 'bout window cranks...

I'm a writer. And sometimes we writers only get contentment out of laying down a rant. Because while complaining is horribly unattractive, writing it out can be surprisingly satisfying.


I drive a 1996 Suzuki Sidekick. It's a lovely little car, really. And while she has her quirks, I still enjoy her quite a bit. But, she has one quirk which is quite irksome. Her front windows don't roll up straight, they lean a bit, and one has to slide the glass a bit and then crank the handle a bit, slide, crank, slide, crank... Ugh!

This can be challenging when driving, as customarily one drives with at least one hand on the steering wheel. Somewhere around four months ago I was driving to work, and needed to roll my window back up. Instead of stopping my car to fiddle with the window, I decided to thrash down on the crank and force the window up. It had worked previously a couple times, so why not try again?

Well, this behavior proved to be very naughty. I was rewarded by hearing a sharp crunching sound. Oh the joy! And the window crank was proven utterly useless. Well, useless at rolling the window up. But I thought maybe it had just gotten knocked out of alignment, so I rolled it all the way down in hopes that it would re-engage, and I'd be able to roll it back up. No dice, son.

So there I was, driving a near-hour drive to work, at two-o'clock in the morning, the entire way with my window rolled as far down as it could go. I turned up the heat, but it didn't really help any. Later that evening (While I was sleeping...) my dad pulled off the door paneling and got the window rolled back into place, so that I wouldn't have to worry about folk breaking in and stealing my stuff. My dad's awesome.

Fast forward a bit, I finally decided it was time I fixed that window. So I discovered that the 'regulator' was the part that was broken (Stripped out by the force I put into thrashing on that crank.) and that I could get one for about forty bucks on eBay. I made the order, the piece arrived, and it sat in my car's boot for the next two months. A couple sunny days inspired me to break out my elbow grease and get the darn thing fixed. Because I really like driving with my windows down when the weather's nice around these parts.

So. I pulled out the replacement part, collected my tools, turned a radio on really loud, and got to work. An hour later, I had gutted the door, removed the old regulator, and was scratching my head and wondering why the sodding replacement part wouldn't fit. Was it the wrong part? It was the wrong part, wasn't it! Ah - man!

The guy I bought the part from clearly stated 'No Returns or Exchanges' and my buyer protection through eBay was only with 45 days... so I was stuck with the part. The part I couldn't use. Dang. Sidekicks come in two versions. Two door soft-tops, and four door hard ones. I think this part is for the two door version, where-is, mine's the four door one.

So... I called up a salvage yard that supposedly specialized in Suzuki automobiles, waited on hold for ten minutes, asked if they had the regulator I needed, and they said they could have it in a couple days. Really - I wanted then and there, but what could I do? So I made the order. The hundred and eight dollar order. At the end of the week I still didn't have the part, nor had I received a call about my order, so I called to find out if they had it. The guy on the phone accused me of not being patient so I kinda' just hung up and pouted. I'm impatient, huh? You had me on hold for ten minutes before even asking what I needed, and you accuse me of being impatient? Bugger you!

So yesterday I drove out to the yard, told the guy he was rude, and had him check up on my regulator order. He had my hundred bucks, and I'd driven forty-five minutes out to his yard, he'd better give me some sodding service! He ended up being pretty good about it, even taking me out into the yard to go through doors. But to no avail. They didn't have my part, and the folks they had ordered through hadn't even shipped it at that point. So I politely requested my money back and headed back home.

And now here I am. My only bet is ordering the regulator online, because no-one within an affordable driving distance has one they could sell me. The best deal I can find is about eighty bucks. Which, quite frankly, sucks. I can buy two automatic, power window regulators for that much! So I'm wondering if it isn't more worth my time and money to just switch out my locks and windows to automatic ones. But what a project that would be! Ugh... Five months ago I never even knew what a window regulator was. Now I feel like I wish I never had had to learn! Bah!

So... if you're looking for a window regulator for your 96 Suzuki Sidekick, I have one I can sell to you for eighty bucks. Oh! And it won't even work! What about that? Sound like a deal? Yeah. I thought so too. Alright. I'm done ranting.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Chainmail

Not to be even the least bit confused with chain-mail which I consider pretty ridiculous. Just sayin'...

Those of you who don't know, chainmail was a thin, flexible armor worn by soldiers in the medieval periods. It was woven from chains of rings, hence the both clever and witty name. Chainmail was less expensive and easier to make than plated armor, so it was far more widely worn by military personnel. It also helped in filling gaps between the plates of armor suites. Basically, chainmail was your go-to-guy when you climbed from your straw mattress and scratched your head about what to wear to the impending battle that awaited you later that day.

Some folk go all 'olde' by spelling it with an extra 'L' and 'E' tacked at the end, and good on them for it. Wonderful show, and what not. But it doesn't really matter, and barely anybody knows what you're talking about in that case.

But what's the use of all this idle rambling? Well... when's there ever a use for it? The point (Because yes, despite what you may be thinking at this point, there really is a point to all this.) is I've been meaning to weave myself some chainmail for several years now, but kept being distracted and never really looked into it. But semi-recently I sat down and did myself a bit of research. Turns out, it's really not that difficult to make a bit of the stuff. And I picked it up pretty swiftly. So for those interested. I'll give you an idea of the process I use to make chainmail. Most of the tools and things that I use I bought at the Ace Hardware store where I work. Also - because I'm an employee there, I have a pretty out of sight discount which is incredibly handy when I have DIY projects like this one.


 

First, I built this little rig. It's made of an old two-by-four I found and a steel rod I purchased at Ace. The rod is 3/8ths of an inch in diameter and something close to a yard long. A shorter rod may have been more manageable, but it works well enough.

 
A drilled a hole big enough to slide my twelve-gauge wire through into the rod. Easy enough, actually, despite the rounded surface of the rod.

 
Before inserting the wire, I tighten a cordless drill onto the end of the rod. Then I slide a length of wire through the hole. Back in the middle ages, folks didn't have power tools. But I think the smithies of old will forgive me this shortcut. (It's not the first, and I doubt it'll be the last.)

 
Then I run the drill on a slow speed, collecting the wire on the rod. Pictured is only a small length. Usually I run wire 'round the length of the rod, so as to get as much rolled in one go as possible. Because really, in my opinion, this is all the most boring part of the job. I wear a nice pear of leather gloves while winding the wire, so as to keep from losing any fingers.

 
Once wrapped, the wire needs be cut on both ends. I try to preserve as much wire as I can, so I usually cut pretty close to my coils.

 
The result is a coil that very much resembles a long spring. Oh - what fun! I've never actually played around with these much, though, because I don't want to bend my wire. Getting it wrapped so close down the length of the rod is a task in and of itself, and I'm opposed to fooling around and ruining what I just put amounts of effort into.

 
Gawsh - it's cold out in that garage! Back in the warm house, I break out my bolt-cutters (The ones I got at Ace...) and clip away at the spring-like-thingy. I wear gloves for this job too, because they provide my palms with cushion. Because clipping twelve-gauge steel wire is tough work, son.

 
When finished, one has a pile of rings, all with an interior diameter the same as their steel rod. In my case, that's 3/8ths of an inch. The pile in the image is only an illustration. I get a lot more rings out of my springs than that. I think the pictured spring gave me something close to two-hundred rings.

 
Now the fun part begins, yo! The weave I've been using is the four-in-one weave. Basically, every four rings are attached by one central ring. In the picture, the five rings on the left make up the 'four-in-one' on the right.


It just makes sense to me, to make four four-in-ones and then weave those together.


The pattern continues. One ring for every four. Two four-in-ones make up the length on the right.


And again, one ring for every four. I use a pair of pliers per-hand to twist the steel rings into shape. (One which my dad gave me about a lifetime ago and one I bought at Ace Hardware.) On small bits like this, it's not difficult at all. But when working on larger lengths, the steel will start to get heavy.

 
 The bit on the left is four four-in-ones woven together. The one on the right is, you guessed it, four of those woven together. (So... then that's... four four four-in-ones?)


The length on the left in this illustration is the four four four-in-one pictured in the last photo. And the length on the right is only two of those. For as much fun as I find this to be, it's really tedious and made much easier by listening to a totally rad' playlist all the while. Which I do. I haven't finished weaving anything wearable yet, but I'm working on it. Hopefully I'll have my coife (Headpiece like a hood, usually worn under a helmet.) worked out and finished soon. Chainmail is awful fun to fiddle with, too. I know that probably sounds really random, but just fashion a small length and you'll be unable to put it down. It just begs to be swished around and shaken and dropped and... well, and worn. But I'm getting there!

Friday, February 1, 2013

Writing Meeting: 01/31/2013


Our last meeting somehow slipped from my chronicling and by golly I’m not about to let this one do the same. Wherein at our last meeting we met to discuss plotlines for our upcoming works, this meeting involved reading through the first bits of our stories. I’ve started another novelette and I am very much pleased with the progress. It’s going very smoothly. Also – it fared well at the meeting. There were no major changes suggested, but some intriguing suggestions were made and my mind was made concerning some plot points I was less sure about. Overall, I feel the meeting was very constructive. And not only concerning writing. Recently, because of work schedules for us members, we’ve had to change meeting times to the evenings, and consequently meeting places as well. I think it is apparent that we miss our meeting’s older dwelling, but this new substitute will do. At least it gives us the opportunity to crack on.
I mentioned how nice it is to be writing creatively again. I didn’t realize how much I was missing doing so until I sat down and starting bashing out another story. Now I feel enlivened in a way. I’m excited about this novelette and what I’ll be able to do with it. I’m also intrigued by what I’ll learn from it. Oddly enough, one’s own writing has a lovely way of showing how awful a writer you really can be, or how much better you could portray something should you switch things about. My last novelette taught me a lot of important things about my writing. It sounds odd, perhaps, but one’s writing can tell the writer quite a bit, should he listen. I’m looking forward to the next writing meeting, but also to getting some more of my story written out. I’ve got a lot of ideas that I’m excited to write down. Now all that’s left is to get cracking.

Friday, January 18, 2013

A Daft Scotsman in the making...

        Scotsmen come in all shapes and sizes. I have the honor of knowing one of the most adorable wee' fellows this side of the Bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. Joel may not be an official Scott, nonetheless he has the bold heart of a Highland Clansman. His sister took it upon herself to stitch him a wee' kilt as a Christmas present. We wore our Highland costumes to the Christmas Eve service our church held, and certainly looked our very finest for the occasion.


       The wee' lad wore a cap which matched his vest, and completed his garb with a rubber knife tucked into his sock. I was quite impressed by his sister's ability to emulate the look of the kilt with her sewing. He really did look the part of a wee' Scotsman!



        Jo-jo followed me around the entire night. He refused to be separated from me. Even the likes of Wallace or Bruce never saw such zealousness in their followers. It was actually quite comical. Naturally, I was immensely flattered and accepted him as an honorary Scott and something of a protégé. Hopefully we'll have an opportunity to wear our Highland garb again soon.