June 26, 2011

In the three weeks since my last post June has come and nearly gone.  Spencer had a week of Kids In College from the 13th to the 17th. His choice in classes were Crime Scene Investigator (Junior sleuthing) and Advanced Cartooning; they didn't offer Lego for the Academically Advanced(which he could teach).  Speaking of academics, in his last nine weeks he slipped up getting a "C" in math, knocking his grades down from high honor roll to honor roll. and most importantly shooting (pun intended) his chance to pick out a youth shotgun.  We are looking at pogo sticks as a consolation prize instead. Last week he attended The Presbyterian Church Day Camp instead of going to swimming classes. I may write of our last day's experience there when I can control my angst about the event.
Being an old dad among young parents can sometimes be VERY trying.

Preston has been able to "chat" on Facebook® with me several times this month.  He is experiencing the tedium of the life of an Army XO.  Add to that the harsh climate of Southeast Afghanistan and other stresses of putting your men in harm's way and well, let me just say it seems to be a "maturing" experience.  We talked on the phone on Father's Day.  I was working in the squad when I received a couple of garbled calls before one set in and we could talk.  I am thankful for being able to communicate with him and for his continued good health and safety.

I did get to spend one whole day, June 14th, chasing down a salvage title for the '02 Jetta Wagon that Colleen had totalled in November.  I say chasing it down because I had to climb into that wormhole that begins the labyrinth of the Ohio State Highway Patrols' bureaucracy.  I scheduled this appointment nearly six weeks earlier ( a true harbinger of the ordeal, which went unnoticed).  Two trips to Southern Jackson County to the OSP Inspector's Station was enough to convince me of their ineptitude and inefficiency.  I had to mention their "District Organizational" goals as posted on the drab prison-like wall...  "We will strive to serve the driving public....blah, blah, blah"  just to get the Inspector to think that it would be unreasonable for me to go home (yet again) and mail to him an original bill of sale for repair parts, which I HAD IN MY HAND in front of him!  That was just one issue after making two trips down there because nowhere on the web site, nor mailed, nor verbal instructions in the two phone conversations was it mentioned that I needed "original" as in non-faxed copies for the two parts that we used to repair the car.
It didn't help my cause in that I had not slept at work the night before, but I digress.

It was interesting to me that this whole inspection process had nothing to do with safety or drivability of a previously totaled auto... it was for stolen parts!! They spent nearly an hour checking out imprinted serial numbers on random parts throughout the car looking for black market parts.  Oh!... We owners aren't allowed to view the process as we shouldn't know which parts are marked by the OEM for identification.  I would bet a lot of money that, maybe just maybe, those who profit from this black market trade already know which parts to alter/mask/obfuscate from the inspectors' technicians' prying tools, vibrating hand sanders and spinning grinding wheels.
After six hours at this Sisyphean task I walked out of Herr Inspecktor's office with the paperwork that allowed me to enter the Ross County Title Bureau to procure a Repair Salvage Title for the car.  Just around the corner I got tags and called USAA to insure the newly titled and tagged car.
The speed at which I was able to do these last things made my sleepless head spin with the wonderful efficiency of my hometown county offices and USAA's online customer
services.

V P in the church after Poopa's services.

Tyler and friend Geoff in Kingston

Daughter-in-law Jen lost her father, Dave, to cancer just after his 69th birthday.  Scott Zinn and I traveled to northeast Ohio for the funeral on the 15th.  The service was touching, generally light and special.  I enjoyed seeing the other family that Vera Paisley also has away from us and ours.  Tyler has been building his bicycling miles at home and has come down twice to ride with the Roadies, on the 18th and again yesterday.  His job search continues and the subsequent wind down of Greenovate® looms in the distance.  With luck we will see him employed and productive in the sustainability field soon.

Sdad, Cydaa and Park at the Cabin

Parker visited from the 16th to the 19th.   He used the trip to continue his video portfolio of the local band "The Lewis Brothers".   It was good to spend some time with him and his traveling companion, Ceyda.  We enjoyed their company on  Friday Afternoon at the Cabin with family and friends.  He also took the time to visit with his Grandparents Friedman and with Uncle Al and Aunt Gretta.  His drive home to Brooklyn included a stop for more filming of a North Coast falconer, the start of which he teased us earlier in the year with a clip on Facebook®.

Chickens at the Cabin garden

On the home front,  with Spencer's help I moved the chickens out to the Creek last weekend.  The finished coop/tractor is functioning well and I am able to drag it either by hand or vehicle to various spots throughout the field near the cabin.  They still are productive with 5 eggs daily.   In the nature of a cautionary note: the eagles and hawks are very active in the skies as evidenced on a Paint Creek kayaking trip with sister-in-law Connie on the summer solstice.  We saw two pair of mature Balds and one fledgling along with several Red Tails.  Yesterday on the Roadies' Bologna trip to Laurelville and back, just outside of Tar Hollow Sate Park, we encountered a single chicken leg laying square  in the middle of Charleston Pike; about half a mile onward was a very large Red Tail hunting, calling, circling over a field.  Apparently the chicken dinner wasn't enough to sate his appetite!  Unlike my last flock of chickens, these will only be allowed out of the tractor when I am present and alert for raptors.  The Cabin garden grows well except for the invading rabbits (Raptors: Eat them instead of my birds!).  I secured the garden plot with chicken wire around the fencing.

In my last May post I neglected to include an event on a bike ride following our return from the Little Miami camping trip.  On the regular Roadies' Sunday ride we were joined by my old friend Randy Swepston.  As an update, Randy and I met at OU-C as Freshmen and continued a friendship as he went on to THE Ohio State University and I to THE Miami.  We rode TORSRV together in 1970, as I mentioned in my May 15th post.
Randy has since moved to Northern Ohio, working in custom farming practices with his ag background.  He is still an able athlete and has passed on that trait to his two sons; Ian was just commissioned as a Infantry Ranger 2nd LT in the Ohio National Guard and will be in A-stan by January. All three run and ride together at home.  Again, I digress.

Randy nearing Adelphia

On May 15th we were flying in a group of six riders at about 24-25 mph on Westfall Road ten miles NW of town when I jumped to catch the wheel of a passing Dave Pigott and wife Jo on their tandem.  Randy and I crossed wheels (his front/my rear) causing us both to wobble dangerously. I recovered enough to catch two things happening: at 27 mph, I slipped my chain (from the hit) and in my mirror I saw Randy splay forward, hands first over his laid down bike. Once again, I nearly went down from the lack of torque on the chain-less pedals.  I was already heartsick at the sight of Randy on the pavement behind me.
Those ahead of us had no idea of the mishap; behind, everyone stopped.  Dx:  Road rash abounding,  cut hands (he had forgotten his cycling gloves) along with a bruised and swelling left hip and shoulder.  We all cleaned and patched and pondered our next course, but Randy flatly refused the aide offered by a passing motorist, insisting on pedalling on.
Bleeding and swelling, Randy continued on to Clarksburg Pike where he agreed to pedal back to town with me to cut the ride short.  Pulling against a rare SE headwind we literally limped home where he showered and I further patched him up in the back of a squad at Station 1. We have kept in touch regarding his healing through FB and e-mails.

Yesterday on the Bologna Ride he showed up with his son Ian to ride again!  The second half of the route took us past his boyhood farm home just East of Hallsville.