So when I was signing up for classes to take at the Boy Scout leader training event last Saturday, wood carving was one I was very excited to be attending. The class turned out to be a blast! I had so much fun and didn’t want to leave when the class was over.

The more I thought about how much fun it was, the more I wanted to make a tie slide for Maverick! So, knowing that my Dad would be giving me money for my Birthday, I bought the carving knife below from Cape Forge.

These knives are sharp, so sharp that you use a leather strop and compound to keep it razor sharp. I can’t wait to get started on some projects, with a new Nephew just born and Christmas coming there should be plenty of opportunities to make things, not to mention making a tie slide for Mav!

]]> http://eleven22.org/2008/11/11/wood-carving-fun/feed/ http://eleven22.org/2008/11/11/the-bambino-is-here/ http://eleven22.org/2008/11/11/the-bambino-is-here/#comments Tue, 11 Nov 2008 07:03:39 +0000 Stephen Lange http://eleven22.org/?p=142

What better thing to write about than the birth of my new nephew!! Yesterday the world welcomes into it Eli Lange Stamps!  Great job Matt & Althea!  Ya did good little sis.  Now the real work begins :=)

Other notable features included a sandbox on the far back/right corner, this was also the location of the occasional compost bin back when leaf pickup was a thing of the future.

At one point there was a large strawberry patch, grape vines and an assortment of fruit trees that I can’t recall ever eating. The garden held a special spot in the back/left side of the lawn. A wooden privacy fence kept kids and neighbors out, but all too often became something that I would fall off.

I loved that backyard, I would spend endless hours out there playing under the oak tree canopy that kept the yard shady on even the hottest day.

Although many things changes in that backyard, one thing remained constant — my Father’s riding lawnmower.

The yard was a little less than a quarter acre in size, big enough to warrant the need for a riding mower. Mowing that lawn was something my Father always took very seriously.

As a result, the lawn was impeccable. I suspect that the riding mower played a large part in that equation of excellence. Over the years he had a number of different makes and models. Names like Snapper, Simplicity and TORO were well known in our house.

When I bought my first house my Dad gave me the old Snapper trim mower. It didn’t matter to me that it was only 12 or 14 inches wide (can’t recall), it was a great mower that had been part of the Lange lawn tradition.

It was a sad day when it died, but a self propelled TORO push mower took its place. The TORO has done a decent enough job, being a mulcher it tends to get bogged down in certain shade areas, but all in all it works pretty decent.

My lawn is marginal at best. But that is about to change. On a recent call from by Dad:

Steve, I’ve decided to buy a new Simplicity mower.

What?? I think, he just bought that zero turn radius TORO less than four years ago. I ask what was wrong with it.

Oh nothing, I just don’t really care for it and want to go back to a Simplicity.

Okay, that I can understand — when he bought the TORO initially I was somewhat surprised that he went with a zero turn radius mower, it does have a learning curve. What he said next shocked me.

“Do you think you would want my old mower? They won’t give me squat on a trade in.”

“Of course I would love to have it!” I exclaimed.

At this point Karin starts to look at me funny, no doubt wondering what hair-brain thing I have just agreed to take as I shower him with thank yous.

So I have a riding lawnmower being delivered on this Saturday morning. My Dad even paid to have it delivered and like a typical parent refused to let me pay for the delivery.

This may sound crazy, and the thought of having a riding mower on with a lawn my size seems excessive at best — but I think my lawn is on the brink of a major change for the better. I am looking forward to see if this mower is its ticket to excellence.

Around Thursday the weather radar starts to come online and by Friday it takes on a much more significant importance.

“Check weather.com and see what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Karin asked in a casually last night.

I happily fired up FireFox and silently hoped the news would continue to look good.  I don’t mind crappy weather, but I find myself still in Spring fever mode.

As I read off the predicted weather we both begin to think about what we want to do around the yard the next day.  Our yard is for lack of better words, a blank canvas, a stock carbon copy of so many other homes.

The backyard is barren of any trees, the front has the typical builder evergreens that no one in their right mind would never plant intentionally. Our two improvements are flower boxes and a fence.  I know what you are thinking — “Wheee!”

We feel the same way.  It doesn’t help of course that neither Karin and I are huge garden people.  I would like to be, but so far it just hasn’t panned out.  Our motivation at this point is almost embarrassment over the lack of change from when we moved in.

The general talk and plan we decided on was to get some flowers for the planters and plants for the side of the house.  I recently acquired a spade and am looking forward to laying out a curving spline with the hose to create some sort of bed on the side of the house.

Sounds like a great plan, somewhere in there we were also trying to plan a dinner party at a great German restaurant called the Bavarian Lodge in Lisle, IL — Karin was going to try and work in an early movie with her friend, my neighbor and I were going to talk seriously about fence staining, and on top of all that Maverick wanted to play catch with the football.

I thankfully prioritized correctly and went to play catch, but after about ten minutes Mav had had enough.  I however was just starting to enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze.  Then I had an idea.

A memory really of a kite that Grandma Betty bought for Maverick last year gathering dust in our office closet.  The wind was perfect and with an open space walking distance away, I knew what would be next on our agenda.

Bringing down the kite I was happily surprised to see that it was of decent quality.  Nylon, stitched and sporting a twenty dollar price tag.  A dragon kit, with a long tail.  Sweet!  In no time we had it in the air and soaring well over our heads.

Despite Maverick’s concerns I decided to let the line out to really get it some altitude.  It flew like a champ — Rock solid to be exact.  No threat of crash and burn here.  I so wanted to lie down and stare up into the azure sky and watch it fly but the fiery eye in the sky was exactly where the kite was flying and it was brutally strong.

It’s been probably 17 years since I really have flown a kite like that.  Sure I’ve helped Maverick with crappy inexpensive kites here and there but they have stayed well under 20-30 feet so I don’t really consider them to be real kite flying attempts.  I had forgotten how peaceful flying a kit can be.  I will have to do it again soon, preferably next time later in the day when the Sun won’t thwart my relaxation attempts.

I think in many ways it’s success surprised even myself.  In little to no time I found myself reviewing coffee and coffee products with a minimal investment of time and energy (request for demo products, etc.).

And in the course of things, I found I really enjoyed writing again.  Note that I said I “enjoyed writing”, not that I “enjoyed writing well”.  I will always be a third or thirtieth edit is the charm type of writer, blame it on my passionate spirit that prefers content over form. lol, passionate spirit — sure… we can go with that reason.

But one lesson that I learned with Brotherhood of the Bean is that having a singular focus while in the beginning is a great focusing tool in the blog writer’s arsenal — after a period of time that is different for every writer — you just get burned out.

That’s kind of where I am with the Bean.  I just don’t feel the burning desire that I once did to work on it.  I still love coffee, it has just become something of a monkey on my back.  I know that’s horrible to say, but I just feel somewhat beaten down by it.  Crazy I know.

Despite the fact that my last post there was on April 8th, the number of hits each day is continuing to rise each day.   If there was ever a testament to the effectiveness of search engines this clearly is one such example.

So while the embers of passion for the Bean are slowly dying in my heart, the onslaught of visitors is clearly on the rise.  Ironic.  Hopefully the passion will return sooner rather than later.

I have a thing for minimalist themes, the cluttered, hard to navigate, white-space wanting designs that most people design and use simply do not appeal to me. Its just too much, and when it gets to a point when the design overpowers the text — that is a problem.

Normally I tend toward white and grey designs. Maybe its the mac user in me, but these types of colors have always been a favorite. Classic, clean and unobtrusive. Essentials for theme appreciation on my part.

It was with great glee, yes I actually fit that word in! That I stumbled across this chocolate drenched minimal theme with bright yellows and blues popping out at all the right places. The theme is soothing to the eye and easy to read. Two nice elements that more traditional minimalist themes can have trouble pulling off without undue eye strain!

So enjoy this theme and let me know what you think! As for me, its off to bed I go. Take care.

As an added bonus, the child would be part of a pre-game parade on the field,  get to meet the players and receive a free t-shirt.  Now I am not  big sports fan, I watch it when I find myself in a bar or talk about it when I am playing poker, but as a general rule — I don’t shed any tears if a team wins or loses.

But the thought of getting to take my son to his first game — that is an entirely different thing.  Maybe it’s because I am getting older,  I find myself more cognoscente of how far time goes by and aware of the realization that before I know it he will be grown.  You have to treasure those “firsts” when you get them, because they never come back.

With that said, Sunday was a crisp, clear day.  The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  I would later come to wish there were with our seats firmly planted behind home plate (great seats), the sun quickly became a sweltering eye in the sky.

With a shirt that would fit him in say, three years we made our way down for the parade on the field.  Since this was my first time to this park, we both admired the attached park area and pay to play or ride/slide games.

The line of people for the parade was huge, it had to be over 300 people long.  As we ambled through and around the outer track, Maverick didn’t want to wave to the people, the shy bug had bitten him but that was to be expected.

Immediately following, he informed me that he was hungry. One jumbo dog, a drink, a five foot long twizzler and a snow cone later, he was satisfied.  You would never know that this bone thin kid is my son!

After about 6 innings he started to get antsy, the game was not holding his attention so we decided to go and take a walk around.  The Cougar’s were losing badly so a change of scenery was cool with me.

Down to the activity area we went, and spent the remainder of our time down in the shade.  We left before the end of the game and got out before the mass exodus, it was a great day and a lot of fun, and one of those memories I’ll always have.

I warn you, the video in the link below is brutal, some people are not meant for video, I think, no I am fairly sure I am one of those people.

Weak Video Blog Attempt

Why is that so hard to face, and why is it so hard for society as a whole to grasp. When I read about politicians up in arms over the nutritional value of fast food restaurants and the blame they hold, I mentally find myself shaking my head — its the excess of consumption that is to blame, not the Fast food company. Nobody is forcing me to eat two quarter pounders with cheese, a large fry and coke, but I have. Because I wanted to.

Fat people, and I say that without fear of angst from the Internet because I am a fat person fall into repeating cycles of eating remission. Diets last a few months, so does the exercise and then we get lazy, lose vigilance and fall into our old patterns.

The company I work for has initiated a number of wellness programs. We talked about their “walking challenge” at the food day. I think I was eating a slider (that I brought) and a crispy creme. Oh the irony.

So today was the signup, you could do it as a team or as an individual or as both. An eight week challenge, all contestants get pedometers and a list of activities and what they translate to in steps. People are to record their steps over the eight weeks and eat well etc.

Myself and two of my employees formed a team, excited by the possibility of competition and the motivation that being part of this program would bring to our work life. I have to admit, it sounded like a joke at first, but the Wellness Manager went all out.

He had rented for the occasion, a high tech height/weight/body fat analysis machine that you stood on and had your stats discretely measured. When complete the stats were printed out. At the end of the challenge the device will be brought back and we will be re-analyzed to see what the change (if any was from our first measurement).

Despite the cool factor, my printout brought me back to the shocking revelation that I had once again fallen into the age old fat pattern and gained much of my weight back. Yeah. Woo. Sigh.

History is full of examples, adventure seekers, some with lofty ideas, others with avarice infused spirits.  Treasure seekers, one and all.  Maybe it was god they were after — maybe it was land.  Either way, resistance was futile.

And so it was for me this last Sunday.  Keeping a six and a half year old boy entertained can be harder than you think when you eliminate television, video games and the computer. Eventually you know that at some point you will hear those words you dread…

“I’m bored Dad.  There is nothing to do.”

Ugg.  That’s right — Ugg.  Next to the often chanted “Are we there yet?” the boredom line is second on the list of patience building phrases our little bundles of joy utter that drive us crazy.

Well today I was ahead of the curve — I was ready.  I patiently waited for the statement to come, patience.. patience.  Now, you have to understand, as Father’s we are in a great many respects, nothing more than big kids (just ask our wives).  As such we like sit back and savor the sweet glow of delight that happens when we truly surprise another family member.

“Dad… I’m bored.  There is nothing to do.” Maverick said.  The time had come.

“Bored you say huh?  Hmmm… Well, its a nice day out, grab your shoes we are going on a hunt for Buried Treasure!” I say with giddy delight.

Its at this point during the flurry of excitement that I let my son know we are going to try our hands at Geo-caching.  Geo-caching is basically a big game of hide and seek.  Players take a container of some sort and hide it in random location.

To the rest of the world — they are no wiser.  To the geocacher with the caches longitude and latitude location, it offers a way to live out a Father and Son’s Buried Treasure Adventure.  When a cache is found, the log book is signed, a treasure is taken out and replaced by another.  Pretty cool concept to be honest.

So off we went, with what I thought was my elite entry level Garmin Nuvi automobile GPS.  You could feel the excitement in the air as we  reached our first destination.  With GPS held in front we navigated to our destination and… could not find the cache.

After consulting with my engineer friend Paul, I quickly learned that the automobile GPS devices are not really the best choice for geocaching.  Crap, there goes that budding activity.  But like so many other times, Paul has a unit that will fit the bill that he said I can borrow.

Until then, Maverick and I will be thinking of buried treasure and the adventures to come as Father & Son.

This can be see quite evidently when the lady of the house goes away for a weekend.  Maybe its to a retreat, maybe its work.  Whatever the case, their maternal nature (God bless it) is to make sure we don’t kill ourselves when they are gone.

In most cases a diverse array of food items are bought to ensure the man has variety with the hope of peppering that variety with a dash of things like — healthy.. and — nutritious.  It’s a good plan that on paper should work.

What do we end up doing?  Reverting to pizza, beer and buffalo wings of course.  This infuriates the lady of the house whose efforts have been thwarted, and training schedule has been pushed back several months (setback increases with length of time away, as does general cleanliness of house, self, etc).

But despite all of this frustration and lack of trainability, the one unflappable duty that is expected by the wife, and acknowledged by the husband, is the role of handyman.

That’s my job, I know it, my wife knows it, and she puts me to work often with the likes of a list she affectionately calls her “Honey Do” list.   This list has been known to go by other names inside the inner sanctums of men around the world, but we won’t go into that at this time.

Now men have different level of home handiness.  You have your Norm Abram man, this type can fix anything, make an artificial heart out of teak wood (Very resistant to water!), you name it, he can fix it.  Very ofter our Fathers have advanced to this level, and are made use of whenever possible (Come see the Grandkids, and bring your drill.. Why? I’ll tell you when you get here!).

On the other end of the spectrum you have the Don Knotts Man.  He can talk a damn good show, but in the end, he is all thumbs and prone to disaster.  In between is ever level of competance that you can imagine.

Complicating matters is the fact that men’s handman skills and competency fluctuates based on the job at hand.  This is a closely guarded secret.  Very rarely will the man bring up his relatively competency level prior to the start of the job, to do so would diminish his machisimo.

Myself, I have my strengths and weaknesses.  In a roundabout kind of way, this post is about something I simply cannot do — Re-Plumb a door.  Its like some voodoo science that just escapes me.

Living in new construction, the house has begun to settle.  Doors begin to not latch any more, cats are able to get into my son’s room and wake him up at night, greatly irritating me.  Despite my misgivings, I gave it a shot tonight.  That door needed fixin, and I had a mighty urge to fix it.

I assembled my tools…

• Rubber Mallet
• 3.5″ Screws
• Circa 1950’s era Solid metal drill that dims the lights when used.
• Wooden train track (impromptu spacer block for hammering)

I began my evaluation and began banging away at the infernal door.  Looks like I need to hit here…  nope (door gets worsE).  I’ll just put this screw here… nope (door gets worse). General teeth gnashing and failed attempts continue to add to the problem.  The result…

A door that is worse off than when I started, has difficulty even closing now, and required the latch plate to be removed to get it to stay held in place.

“How did it go?” my wife asked with hope in her eyes.

“Horrible, we are calling a carpenter.” I responded, instantaneously losing just a little bit of my mojo.

Yes, I was plumb out of luck.  The door had defeated me, I was its bitch and it knew it.  I quickly tossed aside thoughts of a cool hanging bead door retro 1970’s door, Karin would never go for it and the cats would easily default its defenses.

I can only imagine what the carpenter will think whe he sees my hack repair effort.  The shame would be terrible, thank God I should be able to engineer his arrival while I am at work.