Update: New less-fuzzy picture.
I’m a big fan of the look and all, having grown up with it amongst my parents stuff and my father’s own furniture designs leaned that direction.
So now my wife tells me this is the final season of “Madmen” where that was quite the on-set feature. Bully for set-decorators!
Noticing that I also noticed that a very mid-century couch at trendy Cart and Barstool (sic) is called the “Petrie” – most likely from the very evocative Mid-Century Hip-and-Modern show of its 1961-1966 time-period, the urbane and sophisticated comedy styling of The Dick Van Dyke Show featuring Mary Tyler Moore as wife Laura, and Rob Petrie (Dick), a series that ending just before he became Disney-owned silver-screen legend, “Lt. Robin Crusoe, USN.”
That was a movie I actually saw (with my parents, I was all of Seven) right before we went overseas that year, and possibly/probably indelibly stamped me forever with a lifetime-love of the madcap South Seas and Tropical Island Paradise® – and beautiful girls in skimpy outfits. Or else that was caused by Bing and Bob in The Road to Bali-Singapore-Something…(The Sand Pebbles came later for me.)
So maybe eventually I’ll take a gander at it and all it’s Hip-Glory, when it hits our third-tier free-TV station, just like the Walking Dead is now doing. (I”m up to the point where they (stupidly) reach the aptly named “Terminus”…and have still never spent a dime on pay-TV.)
After the downpour and hail yesterday, we awoke to clear, cold, and chilly – but bright and sunny. I love how the clouds stack up across the valley. We drove out and around another property location off Big Cut Road and Cedar Ravine, possibilities spring up like daffodils on the low Sierra hillsides…
Happy Easter all y’all and y’all’s friends too! The blood of the tree of tanbark must be spilt by man and today in the morning chill before the frosty storm, whilst spreading the precious nutty-brown mulch, I was pulling the Little Green Deathwagon backwards across the rocks when my left foot discontinued its movement. *I* however kept moving – and that stopped-foot (which didn’t move) became a lever that snapped-off the PVC hose-bib against which it had become trapped. It was also a lever around which I rotated and fell. And a geyser erupted. A small geyser that, when the water was finally turned-off, also discontinued its geyserly activity.
So we’ll be off to Ace Hardware to get some repair parts and get that taken care-of. Shalom!
UPDATE: 3:00PM – Finally, actual rain has begun to fall. Sheesh.
New bronze fitting and threaded 1/2″ schedule-40 gray PVC pipe with teflon-tape prepped to insert.
CAREFULLY pound-down the re-bar with the little sledge, past the red-handle and then collar it with a hose-clamp.
Re-do and replace the rock. Still have not found any gold in the quartz-rock.
Purple has gotten a bad rap lately. Besides the lousy and histrionic move by a wealthy but fabulously B-actress, there’s the effeminate side – which for a royal color derived from the smashed pulp of delicate butterflies and the crushed kidney-stones of raging rhinoceroses, is unduly harsh. Purple itself used to have immense value and cost. Now anybody can get it. But for this we need red cabbage – which can stain, onions (I chose red for symmetry) and apples (and I chose Granny-Smith green apples for asymmetry).
So to go with tonight’s ribs I made apple-cabbage mush. Also called (by the Germans in Germany), Rotkohl. And it requires only a few things, so buying it out of a jar is un-productive and also not cost-effective besides being time-consuming and whatever. Here goes:
1 onion, diced
1 head red cabbage, cut up
2 tablespoons butter
2 -3 tablespoons vinegar
4 -5 tablespoons sugar
1 -2 apple, peeled and diced
Saute onions in butter.
add cut up cabbage and vinegar.
cover and simmer for about 20 to 25 minutes.
add just enough sugar to make it sweet and sour tasting.
add apples and reheat.
Plus I added a pinch of allspice to give it a bit of tang. Servus mahlzeit!
Right upon the heels of the Big California Drought Announcement we are expecting a bit of actual weather, and the week(s) of pre-Summer has turned sharply cold. Off in the distance The Valley is shrouded in a bank of gray-blue cement-colored haze and you can feel the cold creeping up. Actually it’s some low-pressure stuff spinning down from the Gulf of Alaska and snow will be hitting the higher elevations tomorrow, with rain for us on the flanks of the lower sub-Sierra.
The rain-barrels developed a thick layer of yellow pollen, washed off the roof from the exploding pines that coated the interior and had begun to stink, so I washed them out and scrubbed them down in preparation for a fresh filling. The Drought is entirely man-made, and responsibility can be directly placed at the gollum-clay feet of the uber-affluent Utopian rule-making Enviroweenies and their sustainably-harvested low-brow henchlings. Whatever.
A house out in Somerset at around 2400-feet on ten level acres across from a winery inspired a visit. Nicely regular at about 300-feet on the short sides and about 1,000 feet long, the parcel had a few trees and a small pond and a lot goign for it but would require also a lot of work, and the house was practically an afterthought with even more work required, though well sited at the greatest distance from the road – and no sunset views… So we carry on Easter Sunday and will look at a bit of semi mid-century vibe up in Camino – with a pool!
All my Macabbean-type Hebrew friends stay strong and Shalom.
It is the absolute nature of human culture to advance Conformity in order to establish Hierarchy and Status, and reap the fruits that flow from Power.
Culture and Society itself is all about fine layers of defined injustice, and differences where Superiority can be established. Once Superiority is established by Power, layers of Hierarchy and Status follow.
Which is why it’s patently and incoherently ridiculous to call for “Social Justice” because there is none and never has been any such thing in the many-thousand years of human Social existence, including the tens-of-thousands of pre-human years. It’s like calling for “Astral Justice” or “Planetary Alignment” – beyond pure physics it’s simply absurd and betrays a fundamental disregard for logic. What it is, is a call for Power – and since it is at-base incoherent, a kind of religious/supernatural invocation.
The bags are packed but it’s only for a real emergency. An evacuation for fire is most likely, not a head-for-the-hills TEOTWAWKI romp. I’m already in the hills and there’s nowhere to go. Everybody up here is prepped and armed. You don’t want to come up here and the neighbors don’t want you here either. Family? Parents are aged and in their safe haven, or at least the illusion of that which makes them happy. There’s a BIL in Oregon, not going there, too long a drive fraught with craziness. My older brother and sister will have to fend for themselves. Sister’s kids are all adults anyhow. Brother’s kid is nearly. Not much we can do about it, but this is not their escape-point anyhow.