This & That

I've cramps in my hands as a result of my new hobby. Palm sanders and drill motors with wire wheels attached in use for several hours will take its toll. I'm now thinking seriously of the purchase of a portable table top bead blaster. I'd love to own a nice large sand blaster but its not within my budget, nor do I have the space.

It's hell to be poor.

Progress has been made on the new project. This is the body of an early Coleman 425 made in 1970. She was a victim of a flood and had sat under several feet of water for days. I've owned her since about 1977. The brown paint is primer.

She was in sad shape when recovered. I've three more stoves after her to restore. My next will be a Sears stove manufactured by Coleman. Somewhere between stove projects I must try my hand at the restoration of a couple of lanterns. This stuff is fun...

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At one point this afternoon I came inside to wash my hands. It made me realize I need a bar of old fashioned Lava soap. I remember my father always had several bars on hand. It was kept outside at what was referred to as 'the helps sink.'  It was nothing more than a hose bib and a bench with an old enameled pan atop with an worn out towel to dry ones hands.

I hated the gritty feel of Lava but the stuff worked.

I've been using Goop but find it just doesn't have the cleaning power I need. Time to change.

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I skipped lunch today so treated myself to a slice of Key Lime pie and a cold glass of milk. Not the shameful stuff you poor Yankees must eat but the real thing. Southern made, with real Key Lime juice.

Like this -

If you order Key Lime pie and its body is brightly colored you've been ripped off. Sorry about that.

If you'd like a slice you'd better hurry. The pie must be gone before Sweet Wife arrives home tomorrow, otherwise she's gonna kick my butt.

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A friend recently mentioned he thought I'd like a series available on Netflix titled, 'The Tudors.' Said it was a Showtime production. A period piece, which I like...we'll see.

Later,

Stephen

Alone

It's so quiet in my house. The only sound is the whirl of the ceiling fan and the tick of my tide clock as it counts down the hours to the next high tide. I am alone.

It isn't bad, being alone. Many hate it. They can't deal with solitude. Most feel they must fill the lonely hours with activity as a means to occupy the empty space of lost companionship. I deal with my status of temporary bachelorhood as an opportunity. It gives me a reason and purpose to think, listen, and tackle small projects otherwise taken with partnership of husband and wife.

This blogpost is a fine example.  I'm been slack of late in the stewardship of my blog and blog friends. I have a valid excuse yet will not use it as such and must sincerely apologize for my lack of posting and failure to comment on your blogs in kind.

My lovely wife and companion has packed and traveled  north into the great state of Georgia to visit her mother. After I preformed routine maintenance to her car, she gave me a kiss and was gone.

Yesterday, after work, I made a quick run to our local Publix and stocked my larder with various foods that required little prep but offered great satisfaction to one befitting my status. Chips and salsa, summer sausage, bread and milk, always, clam chowder. I also snatched a box of chicken wings as they were on sale at half price. I'm set for the weekend.

Now I have a full day of aloneness. I'll soon retreat to my garage and continue with my current restoration project. It'll kill the rest of the day. Then, after a good shower, I've a new novel to read, that is if I can convince my feeble altered mind to concentrate long enough to stay focused upon the words. If not, well, there is always Netflix as a last resort.

The birds are singing. Somewhere, far off, I also hear a leaf blower. The ceiling fan still whirls and pushes air, the tide clocks ticks, and I hear my little inner voice begging me to stand and work...guess I should give in and do as it tells me.

Stephen

Bits and Pieces

Our weather is broken into moments of rain washed away by interludes of heat and humidly. Its so old and tiring. I want the cool winds of Autumn that promise crisp mornings with the tang of woodsmoke and bacon.

Now.

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Business here at my little shop has been brisk. Not complaining, mind you, this is very good. One day last week I flipped the sign and didn't sit once for twelve hours. This leaves me little time for my pleasures. Just so you know....

Then, nada.  Go figure. Over the years I've had many ask, in their words, "What's your busiest day?" As if I had the ability to read human nature. So, I'd give the a day of the week, any day, as an answer and it would, of course, make me a liar. If I'd have said, Tuesday, they'd walk in the next Tuesday and the place would be as still as a tomb. Now I just say, 'yesterday.'

 

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Many of you will remember I had an accidental glimpse of my Heart a few weeks ago. Then, one or two afterwards.

Nothing since, and believe me, I've tried. I've waited for as long as forty-five minutes, parked away, out of sight and hidden as best as possible. I do not understand. I've neither seen her nor her father's vehicle and do not know how she is taken to school. I suppose it's possible I've been spotted and know for sure if this is the case he's had her transferred. I've since ceased my subterfuge as I'm sure this is only making her little life more complicated and painful.

I haven't spoken of this to my Sweet Wife for the same reasons. 

Our life without our grandchild isn't the same. The holidays approach. At our house Halloween will be dark, lights out. Maybe a turkey breast, if I'm in the mood, at Thanksgiving. Christmas, well for the first time in my memory might pass without a tree. Why bother. Unless, by some miracle of God, He reaches down and makes a great change to the soul of our son and his wife.

I shall break one of my promises here and now....

Just because I miss my Little Bit so very very much....

Papa loves you, Honey.

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I need another cup of coffee.

Sorry.

Stephen

Still Here

Sorry for the silence. I've been very busy and a bit under the weather. When the debate begins I expect to be in bed, hopefully, in a sound sleep.

I'll be back. Thank you for your kind patience.

Stephen

Sunday Seafood

My fish stock is at a slow simmer. Our house smells wonderful, its filled with the sharp briny scent of the ocean. The smell promises spicy and rich flavors filled with memories of salt marshes and long forgotten meals of Autumns past.

It's time to cook. Three pounds of Snapper await my attention, after I stand and stir a rue until its nut brown. I must chop onions and celery and green pepper and garlic and fresh thyme.

I'm  happy.

Standby.

Stephen
 

Fish Stew

For some odd reason I want a nice large bowl of fish stew. This need hit me today as I chauffeured Sweet Wife point to point. At each stop Her Highness allowed me to sit and wait. Thankfully I keep a couple of books in the car just for such emergencies.  Today I read Peter Mayle, his 'Year In Provence.'

As I'm sure you know chapters of the book cover each month of a year and if I remember correctly it was November where he wrote of fish stew...doesn't really matter, because tomorrow I shall make a batch of this delicious gift of the sea with a large baguette of toasted bread soaked with garlic and butter.  

Wish you were here to join us for dinner. Or, better yet, find a recipe and make your own....

Take care,

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

To a long time friend and new follower, Paladin. My friend I promise to always answer your comments. Of late it's taking me a bit longer than normal to reply but rest assured I will indeed leave a comment.

I've been a quiet fan and reader of my friend Paladin's blog, The Reluctant Paladin for many years. I've always been one of those quiet readers, and yet, I've seldom missed a day when I didn't at least check in to find what project, or animal video he has posted. Paladin is a restoration expert with a tendency towards 'steam punk' projects. Please, run by and say hello for me. And, for the guys in the audience, never miss a Friday....trust me.

Again, thank you and welcome, Paladin. You are now among friends.

Stephen