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By the way the kitchen cabinets are in good physical shape but old and somewhat abused. I plan on refinishing the cabinets in turquoise.
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George Bernard Shaw called golf ‘a good walk spoiled.’
Actually it was Mark Twain who said it but they think he may have borrowed from someone who said it before he was born.George Bernard Shaw called golf ‘a good walk spoiled.’
Sounds lovely. I love the traditional services of Presbyterian Churches. My mother's ancestor came over on the Mayflower, but I'm not sure which voyage. Since my grandpa insisted that we were "Holland Dutch" it was likely the September 1620 voyage, because they landed on Plymouth Rock instead of Virginia. That means next year in September, my family of the old world will have been in America for around 400 years. The Mayflower and Plymouth Colony [ushistory.org] When Grandpa Shurtleff was living, he and Grandma visited Boston where he located a distant relative with the same last name, and sure enough, they shared the same ancestor. That was probably in the 50s, I don't know. I just remember he was telling that story once when I was a young girl. It was fun to hear his stories and hear him and grandma sing hymns in the living room of their house. She would sometimes play their small organ, and sometimes she played her accordion, which was fascinating to watch and listen to. They were so wonderful. Good times. /memory laneToday is Maunday Thursday celebrated in my faith as the Last Supper and the betrayal of Christ by Judas Iscariot. The Presbyterians are not reknown for gorgeous pageantry or ornated sanctuaries. Ceremonies are subdued. A Presbyterian wedding used to mean sandwiches of boiled ham sliced so thinly you could read the fine print of a contract through it. About as thick as a burst balloon and just as appetizing. A spoonful of baked beans, potatoes salad and all washed down with black coffee, fruit punch for the kids. But oday's fashions are for far more elaborate receptions with live bands, open bars and lively choreographed dances featuring the bride and groom and all members of the wedding party.
It makes sense given our heritage as Scotsmen. While the Scots invented everything from the steam engine to single malt scotch, they never, by any stretch of the imagination, succeeded in creating a desirable cuisine or elaborate ceremony. There are legitimate reasons there are no Scottish restaurants. The French, the Italians, the Greeks and Germans all welcome customers eager to taste the dishes made famous in their respective 'old countries'. The Scots are content if you are happy with a scotch and soda after a round of golf then please go home, thank you very much.
The Maunday Thursday service at the old Trinity Presbyterian church was the exception to the rule. While the service is appropriately somber, it is an attempt at showmanship, the elders of the church play the disciples. They did not wear costumes, rather their Sunday best suits in blue flannel and gray or brown wool. The minister plays the role of Christ, serving up communion to the elders and proclaiming "Take. Eat. Do this in remembrance of me."
After offering the bread of communion (an angel food cake those same elders spent the afternoon carving into sugar cube sized portions), he says to the elder playing Judas, "What you are about to do, so it quickly."
My sainted Uncle Robert played Judas. Uncle Robert stood in contrast to his brothers, my Grandfather, Uncle Alex and Uncle Ducky. While those three brothers were charming, engaging, and tainted with mischievousness, Uncle Robert was dour and serious. In the photos taken at family reunions, all the first generation Americans who made up the family are beaming and happy. Uncle Robert always looked constipated.
As Judas/Uncle Robert departed his seat behind the alter, the lights in the sanctuary were put out. The mighty Wurlitzer pipe organ began to play LOUDLY more loudly than in any other service. All the stops were pulled and ominous minor key chords rang out. It served to wake up the congregation and scare the snot out of every little kid in the sanctuary.
I had a friend in high school who erected an organ in his home. Stop snickering and thinking 'every high school boy erected an organ in his home!' 'Erected' is the proper verb to describe the action of assembling the various components of a pipe organ.
He had ordered several huge metal bass note pipes and was due to take delivery of them in, of all places, the Port of Erie, Pennsylvania as they were manufactured in Canada and would be shipped south across the lake. When he was to take delivery of them, another high schooler, who had a large pickup truck, volunteered to make the 135 mile drive north and pick up the pipes.
He took the paperwork with him and demanded the money back instead of the pipes. Then he drove his truck to Trinity Church. He broke in, climbed into the ranks of organ pipes, purloined them and delivered the hot pipes to my friend. The perfect crime,more so it would seem.
The thief was not a congregant of Trinity and was unaware of the special Thursday night services to be held there later that same week.
So, let's set the scene once more. Christ has served the Last Supper. Judas is on his way to conspire to betray Christ. The sanctuary is bathed in total darkness and the organist has prepped her instrument to shock the congregation.
Then we heard a weird hissing sound. Air escaping from the fittng where the stolen pipes were placed. It played on my mind all Easter weekend. But I put two and two together and waited for Monday morning and the return to school after the Easter break.
The boy's guidance counselor at ELHS was one of those school professionals who truly understood how to reach students, lend an empathetic ear, laugh at our sophomoric jokes and care about his young charges. I told him the story of the Maunday Thursday service debacle and explained how another friend was erecting an organ at his home. The tumblers clicked in his mind and before I knew it, he had all the actors in his office. My friend was grateful to me for exposing the plot. The boy who stole the pipes was remanded to the police and more than forty years later we still tell the tale of the hot organ pipes.
Save, found a new toy for ya to play with.By the way the kitchen cabinets are in good physical shape but old and somewhat abused. I plan on refinishing the cabinets in turquoise.
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Montgomery Wards would be proud.
That's just beautiful, Ringel05. Yall take it easy on moving day, now. Moving is a 9 or 10 on the stress scale that goes from 1-10. My prayers will be for you both to have many happy years there, healing, happiness, and good neighbors who will love you.BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
It's as old as I am, built in 1954 by the man who built the neighborhood, Mr Snow. Unfortunately the seller has one major problem to fix, the sewer line. It's made out of the old Orangeburg piping they used back then and is in bad shape, heck Orangeburg is only rated to last 50 years at best, most don't make it that long.That's just beautiful, Ringel05. Yall take it easy on moving day, now. Moving is a 9 or 10 on the stress scale that goes from 1-10. My prayers will be for you both to have many happy years there, healing, happiness, and good neighbors who will love you.BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Hope it gets fixed timely!It's as old as I am, built in 1954 by the man who built the neighborhood, Mr Snow. Unfortunately the seller has one major problem to fix, the sewer line. It's made out of the old Orangeburg piping they used back then and is in bad shape, heck Orangeburg is only rated to last 50 years at best, most don't make it that long.That's just beautiful, Ringel05. Yall take it easy on moving day, now. Moving is a 9 or 10 on the stress scale that goes from 1-10. My prayers will be for you both to have many happy years there, healing, happiness, and good neighbors who will love you.BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Maybe they can do a "cure-in-place" lining or "pipe bursting" repair/replace, both are trenchless meaning you don't have to dig it up to replace it. The seller's agent is getting estimates now.
Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Greenery? Greenery? Nope, have no clue what that is.Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
An anecdote: My parents lived in Carson City for many years after Dad retired. Sage brush provided the greenest scenery around. When they came to visit my in Alaska, my mother was awed by the green. Guess you don't know what you miss until you see again? I can certainly see the attraction of not having to mow a lawn or water the garden, but don't you have to weed your rocks occasionally? Oh, and bushes under the windows is considered a fire hazard up here. It's like a direct path for a wildfire to invade your house. Again, though, with a yard full of gravel, I don't suppose one needs worry about the approach of a fire...Greenery? Greenery? Nope, have no clue what that is.Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Fire jumps and there's enough flammable material around. Right now the back yard is mostly weeds, it's getting some grass when I can get around to it, have to prioritize my projects. First will most likely be painting then working on the kitchen followed by fixing/replacing the patio and putting a roof over it. Sometime along the way I need to put flooring down over the linoleum, etc.An anecdote: My parents lived in Carson City for many years after Dad retired. Sage brush provided the greenest scenery around. When they came to visit my in Alaska, my mother was awed by the green. Guess you don't know what you miss until you see again? I can certainly see the attraction of not having to mow a lawn or water the garden, but don't you have to weed your rocks occasionally? Oh, and bushes under the windows is considered a fire hazard up here. It's like a direct path for a wildfire to invade your house. Again, though, with a yard full of gravel, I don't suppose one needs worry about the approach of a fire...Greenery? Greenery? Nope, have no clue what that is.Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
Seems like there's never a dull moment, doesn't it? At least you shouldn't have to plan your projects seasonally, like we do here...or maybe do cooler inside work when it's too hot outside for yard work?Fire jumps and there's enough flammable material around. Right now the back yard is mostly weeds, it's getting some grass when I can get around to it, have to prioritize my projects. First will most likely be painting then working on the kitchen followed by fixing/replacing the patio and putting a roof over it. Sometime along the way I need to put flooring down over the linoleum, etc.An anecdote: My parents lived in Carson City for many years after Dad retired. Sage brush provided the greenest scenery around. When they came to visit my in Alaska, my mother was awed by the green. Guess you don't know what you miss until you see again? I can certainly see the attraction of not having to mow a lawn or water the garden, but don't you have to weed your rocks occasionally? Oh, and bushes under the windows is considered a fire hazard up here. It's like a direct path for a wildfire to invade your house. Again, though, with a yard full of gravel, I don't suppose one needs worry about the approach of a fire...Greenery? Greenery? Nope, have no clue what that is.Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
In between is the typical house cleaning, laundy, etc and poisoning the environment with weed and grass killer where the gravel and rocks are...........
At least we no longer live in El Paso where they harvest their potatoes pre-cooked.........Seems like there's never a dull moment, doesn't it? At least you shouldn't have to plan your projects seasonally, like we do here...or maybe do cooler inside work when it's too hot outside for yard work?Fire jumps and there's enough flammable material around. Right now the back yard is mostly weeds, it's getting some grass when I can get around to it, have to prioritize my projects. First will most likely be painting then working on the kitchen followed by fixing/replacing the patio and putting a roof over it. Sometime along the way I need to put flooring down over the linoleum, etc.An anecdote: My parents lived in Carson City for many years after Dad retired. Sage brush provided the greenest scenery around. When they came to visit my in Alaska, my mother was awed by the green. Guess you don't know what you miss until you see again? I can certainly see the attraction of not having to mow a lawn or water the garden, but don't you have to weed your rocks occasionally? Oh, and bushes under the windows is considered a fire hazard up here. It's like a direct path for a wildfire to invade your house. Again, though, with a yard full of gravel, I don't suppose one needs worry about the approach of a fire...Greenery? Greenery? Nope, have no clue what that is.Where's the greenery? Maybe you could paint your gravel?BTW, here's front pictures of the house we're buying.
In between is the typical house cleaning, laundy, etc and poisoning the environment with weed and grass killer where the gravel and rocks are...........
