Quiet reigns again

Well the house is quiet except of the Monday Night football game playing downstairs (it's the fall, my dear partner loves football, what can I say). The daughter is gone. The sons are gone. Do I miss them? Sure I will always always miss them, but separation helps one acknowledge the special times when we're all togther. Also I understand that this is part of the normal cycle of things. Young children are so dependent, then as single adults the opposite seems to happen. They're more much more independent. You rarely see them. Yet as the next generation arrives the family comes back together again, and the cycle begins again. We're in those in-between years, and things are quiet. Oh, yeah, the digital camera went too, now I gotta do something about that. [Update: Canon A310 & 256MB Lexar Compact Flash on order.]

TA DA, but wait...

The painting job is done, done, done. The door trim is painted, the walls too. Now I'm told that I've got to recaulk the downstairs shower. We have a visitor coming and it needs to look beautiful. Methinks the jobs never end, and the boss [may her initials, K.S.W, be logged in the world-renown big book of job creators] keeps finding new ones. Wouldn't-cha-know-it. OK, off to Home Depot for the necessary tools and supplies. Later....

The weekend, the weekend, what shall I do

Well the painting is done. The back door is replaced. I have a few minor things to finish on the back door. For example, the inside trim needs to be painted, the walls around the door need to be touched up, and finally the bottom edge and molding needs to be silcon sealed/caulked. But then that's it. Oh my oh my, what shall I do? This enormous, multi-month long job is done. Nevertheless, it's almost time to start my running class. That will fill my early Sunday mornings, ahhhh, beautiful Town Lake. Now that's something to look forward to.

Guilty pleasures

I'm still watching Big Brother 5, and Amazing Race 5. I look forward to Tuesdays for them both, and Thursdays & Saturdays for Big Brother 5.

Grocery store music

I was wandering around the grocery store, and music was being played over the loudspeakers. What surprised me is that it's rock and roll music. I think it was the Kinks. Stuff from my teens. You gotta understand how freaky this is. When I was teen the piped in music was from my parents generation, big band stuff or worse, and it was very bland. Now I'm sure that kids today are saying that the grocery store music is old, that is, it's from their parent's generation, but regardless it's ROCK AND ROLL! This is something that our generations have in common, whereas, my parents and my generation do not.

Back door - phase 2

I was slow getting started today, but I kept with it all day long, and I'm now exhausted. With Matthew's help I mounted the door, shimmed it level, inserted the security sensor, put on the outside trim, blew foam insulation in the cracks, remounted the knobs and strikeplates, painted the outside trim and frame, put on the inside molding, and reattached the blinds. Doesn't it look nice.

Now all I have to do is paint the inside molding, caulk/seal the inside floor edge, and mount a dead bolt strikeplate. With that the house painting will be done, totally done. I'm glad. Just in time to focus on my running course.

Back door - phase 1

The outside wood trim at the bottom of the back door is rotten. I think it's called dry root. When I push a screw driver into that area, it is like sticking a knife into warm butter. So I removed the trim, and when it was off I could see that the frame at the bottom on each side was rotten too. Ugh! I knew this wasn't going to be easy. There was no way I could save the door.

So I removed all the hardware, measured the door, and Matthew and I bought a new one at Lowes. Tomorrow the fun starts... removing the old door and installing a new one. This includes adding new trim on the outside and new molding on the inside. Oh, one other thing, the house has a security system and there is a magnetic proximity sensor embedded in the door frame that must be reinstalled properly - that'll be fun. Finally, once the door is removed I have to analyze why it rotted. I've got to understand where the water came from, and somehow get it to go somewhere else so it never happens again, at least not while I'm living here.

Childhood dreams

Ever since I've been a young person I've wanted to do a few things. For example, I've wanted to play a bass guitar. Now that I'm a "mature" adult I've let go of this childhood dream. Somehow this one is no longer me. I've already talked about go-karts, and I did at one time own one. Now the question is whether or not I will ever own one again. Another thing is that I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, however, each chance I get to travel it's not been at the top of my list. For example, I'd rather visit London or San Francisco than the North Rim. Finally I've wanted to create a cycloidal propulsion vehicle. This was based upon an article in Mechanical Engineering, April 1963, page 60-61. This one still interests me, but then again it was a childhood dream which maybe I've outgrown. But then why did I try to take a computer aided mechanical drafting course at the local community college, and I'm considered taking a welding course to help me make one of these.

Writing with music

I feel I'm a terrible writer. Somehow the words just don't flow. I think I think too much. I read my writing over and over again. I wish it would just be easier. However, I have found that when I listen to music, only music without words, I do better. I've found that Bach is best for me. I like lots of notes. Somehow this music does something to me mentally that I feel helps me write. Maybe the added audio stimulus keeps my minds busy in a way that allows my words to come out easier. Why is that?

Watt's Running is up and running

I've started a new weblog to journal my second marathon. See Watt's Running and read about the pain as I train.

The painting is done

I've just spent the past few hours spray painting the big sections of the back of the house with my Wagner Power Painter. Spray painting is fast, but it gobbles up paint at a temendous rate. I had to get another gallon of paint to complete the back. This makes a total of 5 gallons for all the house trim and the back. I had some extra paint so I painted our 10x10 back yard shed too. This means the major painting is done. Now all I have to do is replace the frame and trim around the back door, and I'll be done with the entire project. Now what will I do next?

Done with "A Prayer for Owen Meany"

Based upon Justin's friend Jean I bought "A Prayer for Owen Meany" by John Irving on April 25, 2004. It was on her top five list so I thought I'd give it a try. For some reason it didn't catch me and I've struggled through it. Each morning I would read about two pages. It was very slow going for me. The novel's timeframe was similar to my youth and college experiences, and many of the Vietnam references brought that time back to me. Some of that turmoil resurfaced that I had forgotten. The prose took me time to digest. Nevertheless this week with 150 pages to go I began to push to finish it, and today I did. That was only 3 1/2 months - whew! Normally I get so involved in a book I can't sleep and I read for hours at a time, but not this one. Now on to something lighter, more summer-ish, something I'll enjoy. I've heard that The Da Vinci Code is a good read. Maybe that one.

More picking up roadside garbage

Continuing this scavanging theme... I found a socket on the roadside today. It goes nicely with the other ones that I have found in this same manner over the years (see below). Now all I need is a socket wrench for each one. But where does each one come from? My guess is that a car mechanic lays one down in the engine compartment, forgets to retrieve it, then the owner drives off and it gets shaken loose. And why don't I throw them away? Why do I save these useless mis-matched things? They can't puncture your tire. Is it because they are tools? Or because they're mine, all mine! Who knows, I don't.


Latest acquisition in the front.

Picking up road garbage

When I'm running I scan the sidewalk ahead of me. I don't look ahead at the horizon instead I keep my gaze down. I think the constantly changing view stimulates the visual side of my brain (the creative one), makes me think, and I like it. I'm sure this is very bad form for running, but, hey, I don't really care.

When I don't really have anything to think about, I look at the upcoming sidewalk, the curb, and the road edge. Since I've had several tire punctures over the years I scan for nails, screws and other nasty things on the roadside. When I see one, I stop, pick it up, and put it in my pocket. Upon returning home I toss the nasty in the trash. Naturally I pick up other things like money, CDs, baseball cards, and other intersting curiosities. My children think I'm wierd, but I don't care.

When I return from running I walk around the cul-de-sac cooling off. Recently the young teen boys who live on our cul-de-sac have gotten toy BB guns which shoot plastic pellets. They have their gun battles in the front yards, sidewalks, and driveways which surroung the cul-de-sac. In my typical manner I now scan for their spent pellets when cooling off. I've picked up hundreds of these little beasties. Then instead of tossing them, I save them in a glass. I keep asking myself why do I do this, because they don't cause tire punctures. Somehow I do care.

Morning running and community service

Each morning on my regular running route I go by Parmer Lane Elementary School. My daughter, who is now in college, attended 4th and 5th grade there. As I run by the school there is a sign at the entry to the parking lot. The sign says: "Parmer Lane Teachers are A+, We appreciate you, PTO". Somehow I've always liked that happy sign, but over the years it's gotten a bit shabby; the background paint has gotten lighter and chalky - the brutal Texas sun has a way of doing that. So last Friday as I ran by I thought I should do something about it, maybe wax would help.

So today after finishing my house painting chores, I got my tub of S.C. Johnson Paste Wax, and drove over to the school. It was midday, the sun was hot, and I was quietly working when a woman pulled up in a SUV and yelled "Thank you" from her car. I replied "Sure", turned around and continued to apply the wax. She drove into the lot and parked on the far side. A few minutes later she appeared again, and while walking toward me she said "I've got to send you a thank you note. What's your name?" I told her, and she also asked for my address, which I gave her. I really didn't need this publicity. I don't know who she is or why she was there. Remember today is Sunday, this is August and no one is supposedly at the school. Next she returned and took my picture and said she'd tell the principal and president of the Parent-Teacher Organization (PTO)! She asked me why I was doing it and I explained that I see the sign while running each morning, that I felt it needed fixing-up, and that my daughter attended the school years ago. She was surprised that I was doing this even though I didn't have anyone attending the school. She left once more and I again continued my waxing. Then about five minutes later she appeared carrying something, and said "I've got water or Diet Dr. Pepper, which do you want?" I said that water would be fine. Shortly afterwards I finished and left. Morale: Maybe I should do my community service very early in the morning as part of my run so no one will know.


Note: I was unable to fix the light blotch on the middle left.

Got this letter today.

The painting continues

Yes, the painting continues, but now I need to do repairs before the final push where I power spray the large flat areas. Today I ripped off the old scuzzy siding on the side of the chimney that was moisture damaged and replaced it. I also had to replace the trim and some of the soffit. That's the stuff in the red circle. Tomorrow I'll be putting the remaining trim back on, caulking edges and maybe painting it. I also need to add some flashing near the chimney on the roof to direct rain water run-off away from the siding so that it doesn't happen again. Moral: Don't ever try to block water, only redirect it. Nevertheless, it's getting there...

My father the artist

My father was a late starter when it came to art. He began working at Bell Aircraft which later became Bell Aerosystems as a draftsman. Early in his career he was a member of the team that built the Bell X-1. Drafting and technical drawings were a part of his life. A clear sign of this is his beautiful distinctive hand-lettering. Yet he did not express himself with art during this time, whereas my mother was expressing herself daily.

In 1963, while my mother and father were attending the "Old Mill" art school for my mother, he drew the school's center. Having lived for many years with hundreds of painting and sculptures by my mother, this pen-and-ink drawing is a unique surprise, and is a cherishied piece.



Years later after his retirement, and my mother's passing, my father took up painting in earnest. He took numerous classes and practiced each day. His medium of choice is watercolor. Beautiful landscapes flowed from his brush. Now twenty years later he is quite an accomplished artist.

My mother the artist

My mother always wanted to be an artist. When I was a child she showed me her high school art course notebooks with drawings in them. She never went to college. Her parents didn't feel that art was an appropriate path to follow. Also they didn't have money to send her to art school. Instead they said she should became a hair dresser. I still remember her disappointment having not pursued her art earlier. She was driven to be an artist.

Her favorite medium was sculpture. I clearly remember one Christmas when I was about eight years old that my father bought her a fifty pound block of clay and placed it on her lap. She couldn't guess what present could be so heavy. Up until then she had devoted herself to being a wife and a mother. That clay was the beginning of her rediscovery of art that continued for the rest of her life.

With that original clay she did Mother and Child.

Again frustrated at work

Sorry to keep delving into this, but today at work we were setting up and configuring the system that was now working (see previous posting). We spent several hours testing and retesting the configuration. We had one more thing to do - getting the scripts working on Windows - but we called it quits until the next day. I stayed a few more minutes waiting for my ride home while everyone else left for the day.

At the last minute I was looking at the code I had gotten working yesterday and I suddenly realized that we were using the wrong version. Instead of using the current version (my assumption) we were using an old build from weeks ago. So in the last five minutes at work I swapped in the newest code and the system failed. Ugh! All I could think was that my work this weekend was for naught - I had fixed the wrong version. Leaving work I was deeply worried and depressed that our team's heady optimism of a few minutes ago would be dashed tomorrow morning when they realized that they were working with the wrong build.

I got home, ate, logged on to work, and continued. I got the latest build and installed it on the same machine. I checked to make sure that it was installed properly, and ran the installation verification. This time it worked and I checked the system output logs to make sure. It looked good. So I breathed a sigh, looked up, said a little prayer, logged off, and went to watch some TV. I gotta stop having these deep lows and sudden highs within hours. They're not good for me.

More frustrated at work

Up early and into work, again struggling to figure out what's wrong with this software. Instead of working on the original machine which was owned by the test team and I shouldn't muck with, I switched to my development machine where I can do what I want. The issue is that a completely different set of problems showed up. So now to solve the original problem I felt I had to fix these other problems. Each minute seeking insight caused me two or more minutes of repair work. I was making progress in the wrong direction. The original problem was getting obscured in the mass of secondary problems. I felt I was losing my way.

At different times I would switch back to the test machine trying different things. I keep focusing on why that system could not load a specific Java class. This problem had not shown up on my development machine. I had assumed that the class library was not accessible. Instead what I failed to do was check the contents of this class library. When I did I found it was empty, contents nada, length zero. No wonder the system could not load a specific Java class. The person doing the installation had failed to load the class library properly, that is, it was empty when it shouldn't have been. So I correctly reinstalled the class library and TA-DA the system started working. I would never have guessed that this was the problem. It was one of those small assumptions that kept me baffled for two days. Morale: Do not assume, instead check your underlying assumptions.