New Iaito

There is nothing quite as grand as getting a package from a foreign country - in this case, Japan:

It is my iaito, or training sword.  It is a sword which is blunt and the blade of alloy but crafted to the standards of a traditional Japanese sword and in the correct length - in my case, 2.8 shaku (32") of blade for my school.

This is first - and only time- you will see this knot.  I can never recreate it:

The fuchi (ornament at the end of the hilt, or tsuka) and the kashira (or pommel) both have grain:

The menuki (ornaments under the hilt warp, or tsuka-itto, which are used to help grasp it) are rabbits!

The tsuba (guard) is some flame looking thing that reminds me of Buddhist texts of the underworld:

The hamon (line) where traditionally clay is placed before it is fired to create the differential steel is particularly fine:

It even comes with its own "imitation sword" certificate - quite necessary when taking it to Japan (so you can get it in and leave the country with it).

I am very happy with my purchase.  It has been a long wait to purchase (4 years) and will undoubtedly give me many years of good service (at this point, it is safe to assume I am in it for the long haul..).

A Few Words From Abraham Lincoln

"We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven.  We have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity.  We have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown.

But we have forgotten God.  We have forgotten the gracious Hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own.

Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us!

It behooves us then to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins and pray for clemency and forgiveness." - Proclamation Appointing A National Fast Day, March 30 1863

Building A Gate: Setting The Gate

So when we last left our hero, he was staring at posts without a gate:

First this was to add boards to the outer posts:

Next it was gate building time:  First job is to lay out the frame:

Next I lay the fence boards out and start attaching them.  Screws and a power drill make it go quickly:

 I debate about doing a cross bracing - but I have the wood,  why not?  How to cut it - a miter box, of course!

Attached, it looks quite professional.

Now I am ready to attach the gate - but find my first difficulty.  The hinge is supposed to go on the posts, not on the boards.  Now, the extra cost of the screws is a wise decision.  Simply unscrew them and the posts are exposed:

 Hinges attached:

 But now I have a separate problem:  The weight of the gate is all on one post:

I have to add two 6" 3/8" lag bolts to posts

Looking better:

And now the latch:

Whoops!  The latch is below the level of the cross beam:

Fortunately a little redneck engineering and we are moving forward again:

Rain gauge reattached to its old place:

And....a working gate! (but maybe not a working video - I cannot tell from the preview.  Apologies if it does not.

From the back:

So was it worth it?  The new fence to the side cost $25 a foot, plus disposal costs.  I had about $120 in materials into the project.  Total time was 11 hours - although to be fair, I was working alone and was not on a particular schedule.  The last 2 hours were the worst, as I had to do a series of readjustments to the cross beams and latch to make the gate close properly - that re-jiggering that tells you that you probably did something incorrectly.

So I probably saved a little money.  But like my adventure with the sink, the ultimate value here is not measured in time or money.  I have never before built a gate.  Oh, I have done parts of it, like post setting or building something from wood.  But I have never done something of this scope or this size on my own. And I did it - maybe not quite as cleaning as I had hoped for, but successfully.  So I can call someone if it happens again - but I also am content knowing that I could do it if I had to.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the yard:

Sigh.  Other neighbor is looking for fencing companies...

Signs of Spring

Reliable friend,

Winter Garlic marches on,

The garden work horse.

Building A Gate: Setting The Posts

So about three weeks ago one of our fences in the back yard had a whole section collapse.  The landlord next door co-ordinated the replacement and the new fence looks good:

Unfortunately, our gate, which was on its last legs and attached to the previous fence, did not handle the separation with grace...

I debated whether to get a quote or to do myself - but I had a three day weekend, so let us build a gate!

First of course, is the removal of the old gate and posts:

These posts literally slid right out of the ground:

Have a little wood rot with the replacement?

The other side literally broke off at ground level:

The gate also just almost fell out of its moorings:

So now I started to place the two posts nearest to the house.  First unhappy surprise:  these posts were also concreted in place - and my posts were just a little bigger and would not fit.

This created some stress in my life. I have neither the tools to remove concrete nor the time to do so.  I tried with a crowbar and hammer but got nowhere.  Then I had an idea worthy of my friend Jambaloney: the new fence extended beyond where it had previously been so obviously they had sunk a new post  hole.  Why could I not do the same?

Progress went more quickly after that.

Placing the first two posts was fairly straightforward.  I may not know a great deal about a great many things, but I spent three months with my father-in-law The Master Sergeant putting posts in place.  A post, I can put up (I will spare you the boring details of mixing and setting the concrete):

I would show the others, but apparently I deleted them.  Suffice it to say that the process was exactly the same (although I ran out of concrete and had to go to the Big Box Parts store for more).

Next was the part to attach the fence boards to. This was a challenge (at least for me) as the screws would not directly go in.  I tried a drill bit (better, but not much so) then settled on a wood drill bit.  It made the process go faster, although changing from bit to bit chewed up some time:

My second posts had not set so I could not do much else - and besides, it was nearing the end of the day:

Depending on the progress I make, we will either have a Part II or Part II and Part III to this.  Overall tired and a bit sore, but satisfied with the progress today.

Employees and Businesses: Against Their Own Best Interest

Sometimes it feels like workers (and businesses) are fighting not for but against themselves and their best interests.

In an age where automation is becoming more and more prevalent, higher wages are demanded and less customer service is delivered. In an age where more and more consumers are concerned with a breadth of selection and pricing (e.g. Amazon) companies make their businesses into a social statement sure to offend some level of their customer base.

In other words, in an age of clear economic trends, both employees and an employers are doing everything in their power to make themselves irrelevant.

As an employee, if I want to stay employed my job is to provide better, more knowledgeable service, to increase my value to my employer and therefore to the company – not demand it as a virtue of my appearing at work. As an employer, my job is to grow my customer base, not find ways to cut it off. And certainly in either case, my job is not to get anyone to pause and think that perhaps they could make do without my services.

I am certainly not an economist and so do not know that I could describe it in economic terms. That said, what the difference seems to be is a value that I believe I provide through my work/service/product versus a value I believe I derive simply from being in the marketplace. The first is a reward for effort; the second is a reward for existence.

I can say with certainty that such persons and businesses are always caught behind the curve when the bad thing happens: when automation replaces their job; when their revenue drops off a cliff, when an upstart competitor flies past them. There is a certain (almost predictable) amount of surprise, followed by an inevitable cry of “It is not fair”.  But in these cases “fair” has very little to do with it. Consumers, be they individuals or corporations, guard their money with care and spend it grudgingly. The employee or business that wishes to be successful should be searching for reasons to convince them to spend their money, not come up with ways to remind them to hold on to it.

A Few Words From Doctor Martin Luther

"Behold, Lord, an empty vessel that needs to be filled.  My Lord, fill it.  I am weak in the faith; strengthen thou me.  I am cold in love; warm me and make me fervent that my love may go out to my neighbor. I do not have a strong and firm faith; at times I doubt and am unable to trust thee altogether; O Lord, help me.  Strengthen my faith and trust in thee.  In thee. I have sealed the treasure of all I have.  I am poor; thou art rich and didst come to be merciful to the poor.  I am a sinner; thou art upright.  With me there is an abundance of sin; in thee is the fullness of righteousness.  Therefore, I will remain with thee of whom I can receive but to whom I cannot give.  Amen."

One Last Logsdon Book

Happy News for those (like me) that was deeply saddened by Gene Logsdon's passing last year:  He has one last book coming out:

I love the way Logsdon writes - a sort of happy combination of knowledge and folksy wisdom, sort of Mark Twain-ish.  The title alone suggests that this is fitting tribute to him. He always in his books sought to encourage others, especially the young, to pick up the torch of the agricultural life and carry it on.  Even beyond the grave, he still continues to speak.

How happy I am I shall get one last chance to hear his written voice and thought words.

A Good Reminder On Evacuations

I followed with some interest this weekend the ongoing issues at the Oroville Dam in Oroville, California.  Oroville is not right where I grew up but I have been through there more than once.

I had been listening to the issue as background noise - there seems to be so much going on now - when suddenly the words "Emergency Evacuation" came out. That always gets one's attention - especially since it was tied to an Emergency Spillway failure within an hour of the evacuation order.

(Yes, I know, there is not a specific link.  Interweb "Oroville Dam" and you will get all you need).

It did get me thinking - again - about our own situation (not that we are in any danger of flooding:  we are on the uphill side of our Urban Area of Choice and if we have flooding, there are larger problems).  In other words, if we had to leave in short order, could we?  What would we take?  Would we know to take it? And where would we go?

So on the brighter side, we actually do in fact have something which may or may not resemble a bag to take with us in case of emergency.  I have gotten a little careless about fuel levels in cars - blame the fact our commute is much less than it used to be and I now have my "routine" of how much I use in a week and when I fill up (about three quarters of a tank and on Tuesday evenings, thank you very much).  

We are fortunate in our case that we live relatively close to the intersection of multiple freeways including a large Interstate - and, we live on the right side of town for the most likely disaster (flooding, in our case).  But where would we go in the event of such a need?  That is a little more concerning.  At best with a full tank I can make it to the next major urban area, about a 3 hour drive.  But that assumes an empty freeway and no traffic (neither of which would be true).  And even then, where would we go once we got there?

I do not have answers for everything - which bothers me as it should - but if nothing else this has been a useful reminder that bad things sometimes do happen - and to be ready for them.

A Letter To Snarkhorn

To:

J. Snarkhorn
Under Assistant, Research Unit

Sir:

It is with an intense relish that I have recently read your article "The Growth of The Physicality of Hell" for the publishing in this quarter's "Aspects of Damnation".  Your article, brought to my attention by the your supervisor Over Assistant Clawbeak (who unfortunately failed to present the article prior to getting my attention, thus ensuring his unfortunate unmaking) brings to light some interesting trends that, while I have also observed them first (as you were wise to note in your introduction), have been lost to the greater under-audience.

You are correct to start with that fool Alighieri's "representation" of Hell.  His vision of the Divine Underworld, its levels and suffering for sins, its inhabitants and their appearance (In some cases it seems almost as if he had been slipped confidential information, does it not?) ensured almost 700 years of a wasteland of progress in disbelief of the physical realities of Hell.  His picture of the demons and devils as all powerful in the Divine Darkness and that of the powerlessness of the human scum they torture riveted in the minds of thousands through the years the finality of Hell and the pointless existence of those exiled there by their disbelief:  stripped of the power of causality and the physicality of their form - Damned Amphibians! - they had nothing to do but endlessly suffer for their "sins" against the Enemy.

You are also correct to breeze over the next several hundred years.  Indeed, the disbelief in Hell (Ah, but how much we believe in them!) contributed to our advance on other fronts but scarcely denied Hell of its power:  that which does not exist cannot have the power to harm anyway.  What we needed was a belief in Hell but without the power of it.  The human scum are always so much easier to lull into inaction when something exists but not seen as a source of alarm.

Thanks be to Our Dark Master for the latter Twentieth Century.

The two biggest developments you point to, the arising of the thing called "Role Playing Games" and its attached development, the "Video Game" did endless "good" (How it burns to write that word!) to our cause.  In the "Role Playing Game", Hell simply became another place to visit amongst many.  One could attend to any number of the "666 levels" as if one was going on a vacation  (666 levels.  They are not even inventive.).  And the inhabitants of these levels, more importantly, were simply cast as additional beings living in a universe that were not all powerful and eternal but rather the infernal equivalent of grocers and craftsman, trying to to make their way in a place that was different only in location, not in substantive nature (Yes, I am aware these were cast as "evil", as if the amphibians knew what true Evil was).  It was if they were putting together a travel brochure, encouraging tourism.

Think on it, my young Snarkhorn:  within a short period of time (by eternal standards) we observed Hell going from being disbelieved in/ignored or an actual reality to someplace that existed, but was of no more power than the "real world" (Such a useful term, that.  How cleverly our propaganda department has captured it).  And then the spinoffs:  fantasy books written about characters going to Hell and returning (I should hope, by the by, you have not put into your other works that blasphemy of The Harrowing.  That is the sort of trite garbage that condemned your previous superior) or that delightful series "Heroes in Hell", where there is a chance that the damned can escape (How that always brings a tear of infernal joy to my eye.  Escape. As if.).

The second development was that great advancement in mindless and actionless entertainment, the "Video Game" and especially that extraordinary game "Doom".  You might not have been assigned to your current division and so not have seen it but I remember it well, having been recently assigned to the newly created Visual Electronic Arts Department.  In this game, the main character - a Space Marine, as I recall - found himself confronting the denizens of Hell with modern weapons on a space station and in some cases, actually in "Hell" itself.  How delightful!  Suddenly all things of the Underworld were physical, and could be defeated with the simple application of ammunition and grenades.  Humans were all powerful, the inhabitants of Hell merely fodder to be mowed down (Ironically, they never seemed to address where these slain "Demons" went.  Apparently we are as prone to disappearance as the scum upon our "death").

Thus, within one long generation we have created a circumstance where so many of the amphibians want to believe in the spiritual but believe in Hell as just another location on the map - and for most of them, not somewhere they themselves are headed towards.  And even if they are, their popular culture and their entertainment tells them that there always a chance they can duck out or fight their way out (Thankfully the negotiation tactic of the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth century seems to have gone into abeyance - as if that worked any better!) as "we" are nothing but cannon fodder, task masters set there more as place holders and security guards ready to be gunned down and our bodies jumped over in the glorious break for freedom.

How delicious it all is.

I have had the pleasure of speaking with some of the newly arrived inhabitants of this generation when they make their Downgoing.  They are always "so surprised" that things are so different from they led themselves to believe and "feel like" they simply ended up in the wrong line (Ah, emotions.  The great internally created narcotic fog of the Amphibians' souls.).  In some cases, the Tormentors are happy to let them engage in some of the role playing that sought so strongly in their previous lives.  The look on their faces when their opponents will not die and the exit they can almost touch - that magic hoop or mirror or door that will let them into the "real world" (Ah, that word again!) suddenly disappears and they are plunged into the Eternal Flame - I am compelled to tell you, dear Snarkhorn, that it is almost a magical moment.  Such moments almost - almost - make up for the general darkness and pain that has been foisted upon us by our Enemy.

In closing, we here in the Infernal Publishing Unit are always looking for bright young minds to join us - as a fellow soldier in our war or in other ways, as your unfortunate supervisor Clawbeak discovered.  Rest assured our eye is on you - constantly.

M. Hookgrinder
Executive Vice President
Infernal Publishing Department

Seeds Of Our Own Destruction

"Every civilization carries the seeds of its own destruction, and the same cycle shows in them all. The Republic is born, flourishes, decays into plutocracy, and is captured by the shoemaker whom the mercenaries and millionaires make into a king. The people invent their oppressors, and the oppressors serve the function for which they are invented." - Mark Twain

"If history teaches us anything, it is simply this:  every revolution carries within it the seeds of its own destruction. And empires that rise, will one day fall." - Princess Irulan, Dune (Mini-series)

I have come to wonder if the seeds of our own destruction lie within this thing called the Interweb.

We - at least in the United States - have always been a people of technology.  Within two years of the founding of the country, the cotton gin was patented by Eli Whitney - and before him, the polymath genius that was Benjamin Franklin brought us the Franklin Stove, bifocals, and the lightning rod .  We believe in technology, believe in the benefits of technology, and indirectly believe in the Utopian aspects of technology.

But we are the point that technology has given us the Interweb.  And suddenly, it seems, technology has threatened our own civilization.  Why?  Because we have apparently created a potential "bullet train" to civil war.

Ignore the ongoing rise of automation (which, for the record, is coming like it or not.  We are literally on the cusp of changes that are going to directly impact the concept and practice of work for millions of people throughout the world - with, I am willing to bet, not so good outcomes for the most of them.  Study the Luddites of 1811-1816 for more details).  Ignore the millions of way technology is making us more efficient at waging war and killing each other.  I am specifically speaking of the ability of the Interweb to completely divide us.

I heard of a poll from Reuters three days ago in which of ~6000 people polled, 16% had ended relationships because of the recent election.  Think of that - about 1 in 6 people were no longer talking to someone, family or friends, because of something they ultimately had little control over.  Yes, I know that the election was not solely run on the Interweb - but lots of words about it were put there.

And as I have ranted and raved, social media is doing us little favors in this arena.  We now have the ability to drop "opinion bombs" wherever and whenever we like with no context, no discussion, no thought of how it will be received.  In fact, I am increasingly convinced for a larger and larger portion of the population, they are doing intentionally to create as much ill will as they possibly can.

Technology now makes it possible to create lasting divisions more quickly and more deeply lasting than ever before.  The problem is that we are only in the opening stages of this: at some point (historical pendulum and all) these same folks taking a certain amount of pleasure in sowing discord will suddenly start crying out for unity and the ever-elusive "end" to such talk.  Only when we get there, I fear they will find that the casual words cast forth almost unthinkingly have become barriers which can no longer be climbed.

Technology is not the thing in and of itself that will destroy us.  It is, however, the vehicle that we have created that will allow us to do it.  Frankenstein's monster will have returned; how many will recognize him for that simple creature cobbled together with our own hands so long ago?

The Fiddler of Dooney

It strikes me that, in the general condition of the state, we occasionally need something that reminds of that the lighter things in life can be just as important as more weighty matters:

When I play my fiddle in Dooney,

Folk dance like a wave of the sea;

My cousin is a priest in Kilvarnet,

My brother in Mocharabuiee.

I passed my brother and cousin:

They read in their books of prayer;

I read in my book of songs

I bought at the Sligo fair.

When we come to the end of time

To Peter sitting in state,

He will smile on three old spirits,

But call me first through the gate;

For the good are always the merry,

Save for an evil chance,

And the merry love the fiddle,

And the merry love to dance:

And when the folk there spy me,

They will all come up to me,

With 'Here is the fiddler of Dooney!'

And dance like a wave of the sea.

         

- W. B Yeats (1865-1939)

On Details

Exodus 25 to 28 is some is seemingly some of the least interesting parts of the Bible.

I read ever year at this time (because this is how it always falls on my annual Bible reading plan).  If you recall - even hazily - from your memory, you will remember that this is the part of the Exodus where the Lord reveals to Moses about building the Tabernacle.  4 chapters of it.  It is very specific - and that is what creates the boredom.

The Lord, it seems, was quite concerned about how the Tabernacle was to look and to function.  Very concerned.  Witness Exodus 26: 15-25:

"And you shall make upright frames for the tabernacle of acacia wood.  Ten cubits shall be the length of a frame, and a cubit and a half the breadth of each frame.  There shall be two tenons in each frame, for fitting together; so shall you do for all the frames of the tabernacle.  You shall make the frames for the tabernacle: twenty frames for the south side; and four bases of silver you shall make under the twenty frames, two bases under one frame for its two tenons, and two bases under another frame for its two tenons; and for the second side of the tabernacle, on the north side twenty frames, and their forty bases of silver, two under one frame, and two bases under another frame; and for the rear of the tabernacle westward you shall make six frames.  And you shall make two frames for corners of the tabernacle in the rear; they shall be separate beneath, but joined at the top, at the first ring; thus shall it be with both of them; they shall form the two corners.  And there shall be eight frames, with their bases of silver, sixteen bases; two bases under one frame, and two bases under another frame."

And that is just the upright frames.  It does not include the bars and the veils for the frames.

Moreover, in Exodus chapters 37-39 the Israelites do all this.  It reads exactly - precisely - as the instructions in the earlier chapters.  If you did not know better, you would think Moses was repeating himself.

My big struggle - beyond just getting through this - is application to my life.  I have struggled for years trying to figure out how these precise execution of a portable building in the Sinai desert and its construction could have a meaning (beyond the sacredotal one) in my life.  It has been on the back of my mind for almost two weeks running.

And then today, it hit me:  it is about paying attention to detail.

God spelled out what He wanted -  in precise detail.  In excruciating detail.  Why?  Well, it was going to be the place where He communed with Moses.  It reflected Him.  And so He was very precise about what He wanted.

And the Israelites responded (somewhat surprising, given the Golden Calf incident in the middle of these two sections).  They get it right.  They did it exactly as God wanted it, with His exact level of detail. No excuses.  No mistakes.

Suddenly this spoke to me.

I am someone who is not good at detail.  Not because I cannot, but (more often than not) because I will not.  Detail is boring.  Detail is painstaking.  Detail means sitting in front of something for hours and hours before you pass it along.  You are the backstop for errors, not someone else.

And I hate it.

But the reality is for me - for any Christian - this is as much our calling as anything else we are called to.  We represent God.  And God commanded good (and detailed) work.  If we are to represent Him well, we need to pick up the details and run with them.

This does not make it any easier for me.  At all . But what it does do is give me a reason beyond "I have to".  My attention to detail reflects the One whom I represent and ultimately work for.

And He has pretty high expectations in this regard.

Quiet Change

Did you ever get the sense that God is changing up your life?

It is not in that usual dramatic sense that so many like to believe He operates with.  There are not burning bushes or brilliant lights, not even voices in the night or the "signs" that so many seem to spend an inordinate amount of time looking for.

No, it comes almost out of the corner of one's eye, in the gentle shifting of circumstances and people around you.  It is not that you seem to be doing anything different at all or are consciously changing anything; it is rather that these things seem to be happening in the background around you.

A friend you have fallen away from suddenly appears again while someone else that is currently important mysteriously slips away, a project that was consuming time energy comes to a halt just as something you had stopped working on years ago is brought back to the surface.  A door that was closed for months - years - suddenly opens at the least expected time.

In other words, you are at the center of a web of change without really seeming to do a thing.

The point of it is not for you, of course; it would be foolish to consider anything but God working ultimately for God's glory, not your convenience.  And yet at the same time, it is God being intimately involved in the details of our lives, making them different - for His glory.

It is exciting - and terrifying - at the same time. Exciting because you sense God here, terrifying because (if you are wise) you know very well that such things always turn out very differently than what we would have predicted.

Change is in the air, even if I cannot fully grasp it.  Best to pay attention so that the next step, when available, will be taken.

Dropping Out?

If you want to give your system a shock, drop out of the news cycle for about a week and then re-enter it.  It is enough to bring you to despair.

Dwelling in the cycle from day to day, I suppose that one gains some sort of immunity to it; it just becomes part of the background noise to our daily lives.  But step away for a time, focus on anything and forget that for the most part there is a world out there and come back in, and you find yourself horrified.

When did we become a civilization and a people defined by anger?  When did denouncing hating by hating become a thing?  When did rejoicing over the defeat of one's foe become not just a part of life but something to be ground into the dirt and celebrated?

Maybe most would find me to be not ready for the world and in many ways I am not:  I am simply not a debater nor an apologist.  I react poorly to criticism (take the whole thing personally) and would generally rather flee the room when anger is present.  I am in many ways ill-suited to begin with.

But I have to confess that confronting the barrage head on after being out for a bit was a shock I was not ready for.  And for the first time in a long time I asked the question:  "What if I just dropped out completely?"

There is in actuality very little I can change.  Yes, I can advocate for this or that in my family and perhaps a bit beyond that, but there my reach ends.  And maybe that's okay.  There are things to be ready for and things that do need to be reacted to - but by far they do not make up the plethora of anger and hatred I see before me.

If I completely dropped out, dropped away from following the world and its issues (all of immediate importance, of course), would I truly be any worse?  Yes, one would miss the occasional thing that really was important (which seems to be found out anyway), but one would miss the bulk of the things that matter not at all.

I have come to value silence and quiet.  And what see and hear leads not to that at all, but only the clamor of a humanity that seems determined to tear itself apart.

Making Greek Yogurt

I have not tried to make yogurt before.  This would be something of an actual difference in my life, as I eat about 1 container of plain fat free Greek yogurt (905 g) a week. So I hunted around on the Interweb and found what could be the easiest dairy recipe I have ever seen.

1)  Pour a gallon of milk into a Crockpot (I used 3 quarts as I was saving a bit to make cheese).

2)  Turn the Crockpot on High and raise the temperature to 188 F (this took about 4 hours).

3)  Cool the milk to 112 F (this took about 1 hour.  I opened the lid to cool the milk faster).

4)  Put your culture in the milk.  Cover with a lid and towel.

5) Let sit approximately 12 hours.  I let mine sit overnight.  The temperature dropped a bit so I turned the Crockpot on low for a bit in the morning to raise the temperature.

6) At this point you have yogurt.  I have turned the Crockpot a bit so you can see the edge of the cake and the whey:

7)  Greek yogurt is so much thicker because it is strained.  Cheesecloth in a colander (on a pan to catch the whey, of course!):

8)  Let it drain.  Here are two pictures, one early in the process and one about an hour later:

9)  When it is firm, scoop it out into a container.  You can add flavorings (syrups or fruit) at this point.  I just like mine plain:

10)  A by-product is whey, the milk and solids (proteins) in the milk.  People pay ridiculous amounts of money for dried whey.  I got four cups:

So how did I do?  House Greek Yogurt (905 g) in my neck of the woods starts at $3.78, with prices going up to $6.00 for the brand name flavored varieties.  I got 996+ g (our scale maxes out at 1000 g) from 3 quarts of milk.  A gallon of milk cost $2.48.  My yogurt culture packs cost $6.95 for 5 packs, so approximately $2.80 for two (from the super friendly folks at New England Cheesemaking Supply Company).  That brings us to around $5.20.

But wait, there is more.  I used the last quart of milk to make a soft cheese.  Add a minimum of $5.00 for that.  And I ended up with 8 cups of whey between the yogurt and the cheese.  907 g of powdered flavored whey will run $22.00 at a store.  Mine I got for free as a byproduct of something I will eat.

So cost-wise I am ahead (yes, I could go higher with organic milk but I bet I would break even with higher priced yogurts). 

More importantly, I have a skill that (in an urban area) is handy to have. I do not have a ready supply of milk except from the store - but right up to that point, I can transform milk into different products and products with longer lives (Hard cheese ages for example, and waxing cheese can help it keep for years).  Right up to the point of a collapse, even if things become rationed, I can make something more out of what I have available.

And what is the value of that?

Unraveling

I begin to wonder if we have reached the start of a great unraveling.

Nighean Ban had a falling out with a friend, a friend she has almost since we moved here 8 years ago.  She was involved in the fringe only  but the issue did not end there.  Things were said - stupid things, political things from what I understand (and that is what I know.  And I do not know that I need to know more).  Tempers were engaged.  People are not talking.

And then the overflow.  Suddenly the friend's mother - one of The Ravishing Mrs. TB's longest standing friends since we moved - felt  uncomfortable coming to an event we were all planning on attending because what had happened.  And during the weekend two weeks later, a lunch that was supposed to be planned never happened:  the friend who was going to contact The Ravishing Mrs. TB never called and The Ravishing Mrs. TB felt uncomfortable calling her to see what had happened.

It is a small thing some might say, a falling out such as might happen between any teenage girls and mothers not wanting to exacerbate a situation.  But something feels different this time, almost a sense of doubling down and hardening of opinions rather than an effort to resolve the issue.

Am I immune?  Not at all, Over the past two months I found my communication with others greatly decreasing: outside of my coworkers I regularly interact with 7-8 people on a weekly basis, and maybe twice that number on a biweekly basis.  Why?

More and more, I find myself unable to process the "how" of how we are speaking to others.  I find myself "Unfollowing" more and more on Facebook (think of it as a sort of invisible secret double detention where you no longer realize people do not see what you post) because their lives - at least their online lives (and one assumes their "real" lives) - have been consumed with 1) politics; and 2) mocking and castigating those that disagree with them not as "misguided" but as "wrong" and "stupid".  The same with most online discussion sites as well, which are turning more and more into tearing down anyone that disagrees with them rather than discussing the issues.  It is as if we had abandoned the color TV of variegated and muted colors and were left with the harsh glare of black and white in our rooms and in our lives, where more and more the totality of our relationships - and communication, the point of any relationship - is reduced to communicating only with those of like mind and the "others" are merely the caricatures of what we have created in our mind (or worse, allowed others to create for us).

And here lies a key - at least fore me - that we have have started an unraveling, a disintegration of our culture and way of life:  we are losing the desire to make the attempt to communicate with each other.

Too many now are quite willing to scream, shout and yell at each other.  Fewer and fewer seem to be interested in talking to each other.  The desire to be heard with the "correct" opinion outweighs the desire to have that opinion understood.  And more and more, ideological purity to "my" position is the standard that is being used to judge the worth of another.

Perhaps I am overstating the case?  I think a walk through every major historical war and societal breakdown at some level finds its in a loss of communication. Individuals do not communicate but judge others first on their agreement with their own ideas - and if they do not agree, it becomes easy enough to categorize them as a group that does not matter and can thus be treated badly because they are "stupid" or "reactionary" or "Alt-X".  Groups do not communicate but see others not as fellow citizens or inhabitants but rather as obstacles in the way of their progress. Countries do not communicate but verbal denigrate and use soft attacks to influence those who do not agree with their policies or way of life.  And countries not communicating eventually lead to war.

As the lights of communication slowly fade, the landscape becomes darker and darker.  Like huddles only with like, while the voices of understanding and reason  withdraw themselves from the discord and try to salvage whatever relationships they can, building smaller and smaller communities that huddle together in the physical and digital landscape as mobs roam the outside.

Like British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey, I begin to wonder if I am seeing the lamps go out - not all over Europe this time, but somewhere else, somewhere closer to home.  And I begin wonder as well if I shall never see them lit again in my lifetime either.

The Civil War You Get Is Not The Civil War You Expect

No sane, reasonable person wants a civil war.

I think there two camps about what a civil war is like:  those that are currently violent and those that are quietly preparing.

For those that are currently violent, they mistake the times.  They think the acts of violence they practice in a society that has not yet converted to a truly civil conflict is what an actual civil war would be like.  They believe that violent acts perpetuated against people and things that are (on the whole) not fighting back is what the future would be like - only they would win when the "gloves" are removed and they can act without concern.  They forget that their ability to continue to perpetuate such violence in civil situation derives largely from the larger population's forbearance against such an event.   It is one thing to protest, yell a slogan or two, rush a helpless crowd, maybe throw a rock or even a Molotov cocktail, and then go home.  It is another thing to find the other side prefers to shoot rather than arrest and to flee home only to find your home and your family or friends have been destroyed.

For those that are quietly preparing, they mistake the impact.  They believe that they will be able to either weather the storm in place or come out ready to fight, not to receive.  What they fail to apprehend is that once the war has started it is very hard to end, often outlasting whatever preparations they have made.  They also forget that civil wars any more are seldom self contained events:  extra-national players are more than happy to intervene and while planning to face rioters with rocks and zip guns, they are faced with AK-47s and the latest in anti-personnel mines.

The final problem, of course, is that civil wars seldom end the way either side hoped or expected.  No matter who actually wins the situation is usually not better: there is always a loser and the winner is seldom in a generous mood towards the losers.  The cities and countryside are often destroyed, industry is ruined, entire cultures are decimated and sometimes never returned.  This discounts completely the loss of life and population displacement that inevitably occurs.  It can take states years, even decades to recover.

Civil wars are brutal, bloody events.  To pretend they are not is to engage in the sort of fantasy thinking of video games, where the simple flick of a button resets the game back to how it was.

Reality is not nearly so accommodating.

A Plumbing We Shall Go II

A short follow up to yesterday's post on the nature of self-economics.

I am not sure what a plumbing house call runs these days.  It cannot be less than $75 (That is what we paid when we had our home warranty).  That, of course, typically discounts any additional hourly work or parts.

Now to be fair, a plumber would have dealt with the issue much quicker than I did - after all, I sort of instinctively thought I knew how the parts went together, but I had to experiment a great deal. So let us say an hour of labor to disassemble and reassemble the sink - or at least, that is what I would have been charged for.

What is the hourly rate?  Not sure - but let us use that $75 number as I suspect it is closer to the truth than I would like to think.

Now parts.  I paid about $25 in parts.  There is always markup in parts - 20% is (I think) standard for the auto repair business, so we will use that.  That is $30.

So to recap:  to have it repaired could have cost in the area of $180.  In point of fact I paid $25.  That is (in case you are math challenged as I am) a savings of $155.

It did cost me three hours of my time.  So if I look at that number, it appears I "made" $51.66 an hour by do it myself. (This is the part that is always hard for me:  I never "make" that money, I just did not spend it.  I understand cost avoidance, it just never feels as satisfying actual cash).  That is not a bad hourly wage.

It helps -and it is something I need to get more in the habit of.  Work because not quite as boring or not engaging when you do it this way:  how much am I actually saving by doing this? How much money is not leaving my bank account because I surrendered 3 hours to refitting the sink?

And, of course, the self confidence - which is priceless.  I have actual abiding sense of competence at the moment.  I looked at something I had never done before and puzzled it out in a way that worked - and saved me money.

Not a bad return overall for three hours of labor.

A Plumbing We Shall Go

The Ravishing Mrs. TB catches me when I come in the door from work.  "My sink is not draining"  she said.  "Have you used any on it?"

Sigh. "Let me go give it a look".

I crawl down, and open up the cabinets and unscrewed the rings by the pea trap (one plastic, one metal)  in hopes that I can get a screwdriver up there and pull whatever nastiness is there back down.  The top one - the metal one - will not turn.  I keep working it but it will not release.  I start working the upper part of the pipe from the sink, but it torques the stopper.  I keep trying to turn the upper ring - until it breaks off.  Rusted through.

Great. Now I have a sink that empties directly onto the cabinet bottom.  I have never done this much plumbing in my life.  It looks like I need to replace the pipe dropping directly from the sink.  I have never done this before.

But I do not really want to pay plumber either.  Let us see what happens.

The pipe from the sink turns out not to be too difficult to disengage.  There is a brass nut which hasto releasee, which in turn releases the pressure on the rubber grommet above it to prevent leaks.  Removing the stopper is easy:  there is a smaller nut that feeds into the main pipe.  Unscrew it and it drops away.

I keep turning the pipe and it does not seem to be moving.  Hmm.  I finally figure out you have to hold the top part of the drain (that metal ring in the bottom of the sink) while you turn it.  Out it pops and down comes the main pipe.

I drag the parts with me to my local Large Big Box Supply Store.  I am matching pieces via diameter - fortunately, if you look long enough you will find it.  A new pea trap (just in case;  I will certainly need the rings), a new drain assembly, and a 10" Crescent Wrench (which I have needed for a while) equals $42.00 and I am on my way back.

Putting it back together is pretty much a reverse of the process.  Top of the assembly goes in and then the pipe screws into this - which takes me a while as you have to really bring the rubber grommet and brass ring down to get it up in the hole. The stopper assembly is (literally) like the old one - five minutes and I am done.  Putting the drain pipe into the pea trap turns out to be the biggest issue:  the plastic ring does not seem to seal as well as the metal one did.  Hmm.  I have two inner rings from the pea trap I got: I put one in the ring and reverse the other one in the pipe.  This seems to work.

I spend 15 minutes filling and then draining the sink, then tightening things, then draining the sink again.  I seem to have gotten nearly all of the leaks, but we are leaving the cabinet under the sink empty and monitored for a bit.

This was (obviously) not how I was expecting to spend my evening.  Total time was probably about three hours all told.  That said, I am pretty sure that I could not get that work done for what it cost me to do it.

And I found out I can do a little more plumbing than I thought.  Once again, trying to be self reliant is not a bad thing.

End of Month

Last Day of First Month:

The brown grass belies the fact

that Spring is coming.