Here's an Article I Am Extremely Proud

Because it's about dogs; a young lady that shows a lot of promise, and because SisIg bailed me out and helped me with the re-write.

The Animal Lives Again

Two days ago SisIggy asked if I would look at our Dyson vacuum and see why it wasn't working anymore. She told me, I turned it off when I began smelling rubber burning. She also said the suction wasn't very good either.

I finally had time this morning to investigate the problem.

Our model -- appropriately called The Animal -- as it is designed to handle dog hair (which those in the know, know we have six of them), was sitting on the living room carpet. I took a quarter to open the screws on the face cover and found dog hair (what's new) tightly wound around the beater. Interwoven with the hair was purple yarn, remnants of Sis' many knitting projects. The yarn, apparently, was also interwoven around the rubber belt that connects the beater with the motor.
Two hours later, I had it apart, the beater cleaned and everything back in place. I called SisIg to let her know that it now worked and that I had finished vacuuming. She then told me, I saw the yarn and thought I had gotten all of it.

Most of it, I replied.

As for the lack of suction, I found a slightly bent back felt pen wedged in one of the purple attachments that allows one to remove objects that shouldn't be sucked off the floor. It now runs just like new.

This posting, which reflects good news around here is also for the benefit of IH, who refuses to pay what a Dyson costs in favor of a less-expensive vacuum that when it breaks you throw it away and buy another.

Our four-plus year old Animal is as good as new.

It Kinda Looks Like Me

I can't do it justice so I will just link it here.

The Battle of Toms Brook Re-Visited

In October, 1864 the Battle of Toms Brook raged on in the fields surrounding my house. That battle became significant once again yesterday when Independent Hill and her husband, who live across the road from me, decided it was time to replace their front porch.

Some say the house wasn't built until after The War Between the States (that's what we southerners call it) but since no one is around now who was there then... we'll let our little story continue.

IH told me last night all that was found under the wooden porch were a couple broken jars, a hook of some type and the partial remains of a cat. But the rumor now swirling the neighborhood is that the remains of an Union officer was found buried under the concrete steps. We further understand that's why the steps remain today.

Could George Custer have been killed here instead of Little Big Horn? No one will know for sure but IH could be re-writing history.

WGO: Newspaper Slag for What's Going On

It's been awhile since I have posted here and the reason is simple: After having been under-employed for much of 2009 I landed a job in late August and have been working non-stop since.

Tonight, as I type this, I look forward to my first day off since beginning work. I will be resting for much of the day but do have several cosmetic around-the-house type things planned. And I will also be covering three girls volleyball matches later in the day for my moonlighting job I got in early September.

Now I hate volleyball but like the cash that I'll get, so I will learn to like it just a little bit.

Bon Voyage

It was with sadness this evening that the box of tomatoes (left) decided to move a few miles down the road to live with a new family.

Wait. What am I saying. I was actually jumping with joy as I carried the 40-pound box to Carol's car.

I was even happy when she emailed me later tonight with the news they found their way into pint jars and had been pressured into a winter foodstuff.

Unfortunately, our county fair starts later this week for a nine-day run and Carol and her husband Dale have a booth, meaning no more of the red vermin will be heading south for almost a fortnight.

In the meantime, the aunts, uncles and cousins of these pesky fruit will be once again overflowing our kitchen, house and yard.

Oh, well. When SisIggy asks me to plant tomatoes next year, hopefully I will remember not to plant 40 plants. I am sure 10 will be enough.

Salsa Time

Trying to winnow down our over-producing tomato stock today, I decided to make homemade salsa. Fortunately, we had all the ingredients on hand and I bought the Mason Jars Saturday night.

I started with the tomatoes - some yellow, some red, some German and a few Heritage ones thrown in for good measure. About the only thing that didn't go into the mix were the grape tomatoes.

I began by dicing them into small rectangular pieces and then bringing it to a boil for five minutes.

Next I cleaned and food processed five onions, diced cilantro and jalapeno peppers from the garden and prepped the jars by washing, scalding and then holding in the oven at 200 degrees until needed.

After tossing some salt into the mix and stirrring all to beat hell, I began adding everything but the hot stuff into the jars -- first, three Mild jars and then six Medium (peppers) and finally, three HOT (peppers and the seeds).

All that was left was boiling the filled jars for 10 minutes each and applying the labels so I wouldn't give a Hot one to someone who only liked Mild...

Who Said the Dog Days Are Boring?

Whoever said the Dog Days of August are boring never experienced one in Dirtmanland.

In fact, it's been hectic here since returning for our annual clamming operation in late July. So much so I have been unable to post anything here.

The garden and grass-cutting chores took a bulk of my time as I picked a ton of tomatoes. Some of it went for a fresh salsa made for Heir I's birthday bash; we tried every recipe that involved the fruit and made some up too. We forced maters on whomever showed up at the door and even tried to sell or give them away from a make-shift stand in the front yard.

Heir I's party wasn't until August 8th and according to SisIg's Facebook page, it will continue for another two weeks. Oh, to be young again.

Being sick of cucumbers and having pickled more than I'd like to remember, the neighborhood celebrated when I picked the last and pulled the vines last week.

I also started applying for jobs as several interesting prospects began appearing in the local papers but none came to fruition. Heir I, meanwhile, landed a job in Winchester, Sis, one in Woodstock and Heir II finished his year-long job in Strasburg as he finished packing for his trip to Salem to begin his post-high school academics this week at Roanoke College.

Sis and I took him Saturday, bidding him farewell in the parking lot that evening and I cried the better part of the trip home.

Sunday dawned to a sunny sky and more maters and after picking 40 pounds (which Heir I's better half's mother claimed), I decided I would attempt to make salsa to keep my mind off Heir I.

I think I succeeded.

What Happened to the Neighbors?

Got back from the beach a few hours ago and finally had time to check out the garden. I had asked the neighbors to help themselves this past week but it doesn't look like they did -- I found two zucchini the size of New Jersey, a bushel of cukes (we gave away all we had before the trip and even more to Dark that wasn't used on the trip). I also picked a dozen plum tomatoes and could have picked a dozen banana peppers and several large green peppers had I had containers to carry them to the house.

Also saw the collards are coming along nicely, we need to harvest more lettuce, and the onions and radishes are about ready. I also need to tie up the tomato and cuke vines in a hurry or we won't be able to see what's ripe.

My dad had told me the tomatoes weren't ripening because the nights have been too cool. I believe the coming week may change that...

What Is It?

I've been watching this mature for the past several weeks and finally got around to taking a photo of it.

Post what you think it best represents. We'll pick it Friday, by the way and take with us when we visit Dark Garden's temporary digs. Don't know it it will be admired or eaten.

It's Finally Over And I Don't Want to See Another Dogperson for 362 Days

The past week has been a harried experience, travelling from Dirtmanland to Berryville for our kennel club's annual dog shows. It all began Thursday when we prepared the grounds for the show followed by more cleanup activities Friday.

SisIg, who's the trophy chair, and I left the abode before daybreak Saturday and Sunday for the drive, arriving before 7 each morning. We parted, as I had to get everything set up that couldn't be done the day before. For some reason or other I have been Grounds Chair for the past four years meaning I do whatever no one else in the club is willing to do.

Armed only with a golf cart and an occasional assistant, I move from one end of the 27-acre fairground to the other. Sometimes, I have to move equipment. At other's it's to provide direction to someone and then, a call goes out that one of the judges needs a ride and off I go again.

Each night we arrived home and were too tired to do anything else but sleep. Last night, I dozed in my chair for several hours; then went to bed where I awoke at 3:30 am and couldn't get back to sleep.

Oh well. I should be plenty rested for the next shows - scheduled July 10-11, 2010. But there will be plenty of work to do in the meantime.

Where Were You on 070709?

I'll always remember where I was when I heard Kennedy was dead (home, right after getting out of primary school); when Reagan was shot (teaching school; told not to tell the kids so as not to upset them); and now, where I wasn't when Michael Jackson was eulogized.

The answer to that was as far away from it and the tube as possible.

He and I may have shared the last name but that's as close as it will ever be. I never could sing like him; dance like him or perform the moonwalk like him. I also never touched a kid like he was accused of touching and that's a good thing.

I was joking with SisIg this morning that today was Jackson's Epiphany, ie., the 12th day following his death. It has taken Michael Jackson's family longer to bury him than it took to bury Ronnie Reagan and Jerry Ford combined. And now it looks like his funeral will also be a governmental-paid affair too -- unless Jackson's fans pony up to the bar and send in a contribution to the city of Los Angeles.

Lord knows they could use it.

Big Broken Toe Taken Down By Popular Demand

Dark Garden, SisIggy, Older than Dirt, the Heirs and now Independent Hill has spoken and I decided to take down Friday's Blog but will leave the comments for posterity. It had the effect I wanted.

Cucumbers Anyone?

SisIggy has her plethora of baking blogs and I, my gardening ones.

I should have posted this Wednesday but didn't want to take away from Gwynne's milestone. Tuesday afternoon I found four cucumbers ready to be picked (the day before, by the way, they were nonexistent -- or at least I didn't see them on the vines.

I also picked three more banana peppers and with a store-bought Vidalia onion (ours aren't ready yet), Sis made a fantastic cucumber salad.

Now Sis will tell ya she could have made it even better by adding a generous amount of dill on it (which we also have growing in our herb garden).

But I don't like it that way and she was gracious enough to accommodate me for which I profusely say thanks.

1,500th Hit: Gwynne's the Winner*

Tuesday was a red banner day here at Dirtmanland as The Dirtymon registered his 1,500th hit to the site. The Dirtymon doesn't have the readership of say, SisIggy -- which many would say is a good thing; nor the strangeness of those who read Dark Garden.

The Dirtymon appreciates all the readers he has though. Hits were slow in the beginning when we first began filing posts last fall. It picked up a bit during the winter when friends from Bits and Pieces began flocking to the site and even more so when we joined Facebook and began getting many of Sis' and DG friends here.

Based on SiteMeter, the milestone was made yesterday evening when our good friend Gwynne popped on for a review. Thank you Gwynne and thanks to everyone else who makes this site a part of your daily ritual.

*As with Fire - our 1,000th hit - there is no actual prize except our humble apology for making this dirt-poor site a winner.

Moon Shot

It was partly cloudy tonight but the moon did all it could to show itself in the sky. I love it when I can take so fantastic shots with the digital camera (especially when neighbors don't have their outdoor lights marring the viewscape.

Now I admit Jag or SisIggy has anything to worry about when it comes to all things photography. But now that I have found the sports feature on the camera and with a somewhat shake-less hand, one can sometimes get a neat shot:
This one is either telling me the Milky Way is out there somewhere or Minnie Mouse has a new moniker.

The Week in Review

This has been the most prolific week around Dirtmanland in a long time.

Monday, I got up early, found myself wanting caffeine and drank three cups of coffee (my usual consumption is one cup. Before I knew it, I had done eight loads of laundry (including putting it all away instead of dumping it on the sofa for SisIg to do. I also stripped the bed and remade it, dusted and vacuumed the entire house and shuffled the dogs in and out.

Tuesday I started working on the new gate for the chain-linked fence that John Boy and I had built last year. If you will recall, our landlord didn't buy a gate then and we had to resort to a temporary fix - using a portable dog pen to keep the terriers and aussies at bay.

After four hours of trying to get the cemented posts out so we could re-set them, I called in reinforcements (John Boy) for Wednesday.

Wednesday morning I picked veggies from the Victory Garden for the first time (Black-Seeded Simpson and Romaine lettuce, four white onions, two radish and one six-inch long banana pepper).

Once JB got here, we tackled the two posts (going from a five foot gate to an eight-footer). We finally extracted them, dug new holes and reset each in a Portland cement / sand mixture. We then waited a day for them to properly set and enjoyed the salad Sis made from the garden produce along with a very fine dinner.

On Thursday we finished re-stretching the chain link fence, installing the gate which, by the way was a section of a dog kennel our landlord had lying around his property. What's cool is it is now a gate within a gate. We can open the door or the gate, depending on what we need to move from one side to the other.

With the gate in place, Salt and Pode can now enjoy being outside in a secure shaded pen -- if we can live with the constant yapping that's so annoying to everyone around us.

Afterwards, we had another great meal.

Friday I worked in the garden trying to train the cucumbers onto the fence I had installed, tied up more tomato vines and, while waiting to get the neighbor's roto-tiller, I mowed the entire yard. Then I went shopping for food and supplies.

The tiller was finally available on Saturday morning and two hours later I headed to the shower to get cleaned up before Sis and I sojourned to Dark Garden and family for an excellent outing and cookout.

Thanks to Dark and the Mrs. for a lovely summer sojourne!

The week upcoming will also be busy. I need to dig a trench to bury the sump pump discharge line; I need to apply grass clippings on the garden now that it's tilled and I am hoping, beyond hope some real work will show up.

And I'm hoping your week will be fruitful too.

This Just In

Table game foe now endorses idea at racetrack

SHENANDOAH JUNCTION, W.Va. (AP) -- A West Virginia House of Delegates member once opposed to table games at Charles Town Races is now endorsing the idea.

During a public forum last week, Jefferson County Democrat John Doyle said it's time for county voters to endorse table games at the track.

Doyle says he changed his mind after lawmakers approved legislation during the recent special session that increased the amount of money going to counties where the games are played. Five cities would also receive an increased share from gambling proceeds.

Jefferson County voters rejected table games at the track in 2007, partly on Doyle's urging.

Track officials have yet to decide when they will go back to voters, but Doyle said he will endorse their efforts.

This press release (above) may not mean much to most, but for John Boy, it may mean the world.

I found this article (and before anyone accuses me of making it up, I can produce the newspaper I lifted it from) and immediately thought of our famed relative who's a recent honors graduate of the New Jersey School of Gaming.

What it means is John Boy might be able to land a job in the short term rather than long term if the fine citizens of Jefferson County, WV, vote favorably for table games in the next general election.

A key roadblock locally was the county wasn't going to get a very big chunk of the profits. Now, after recent legislation in the West Virginia Assembly, the pie got bigger and now the local delegate has reversed his position and favors table games.

So do we.

Numbers Aren't What They're All Cracked Up To Be

At one time I wanted to have high number of hits on my blog.

Not anymore.

I'll let SisIggy have that honor. She deserves it!

Veggie Tales

Gardeners, like fishermen, sometimes tell a whopper of a story about how big a vegetable has grown in his garden.

I remember back to when SisIggy and I were dating and how proud I was of a 24-inch long, eight-inch diameter zucchini I had grown in my chicken manure pile. I had been nurturing it for about a week, watering it every day.

Oh I was so proud.

Until Sis took it and tossed it in the trash.

Zucchini should never get more than six inches long, she told me.

Lesson learned.

So to my surprise yesterday when I ventured to the Victory Garden down in the west 40. I was there Monday and saw one onion that would be ready soon; two small green tomatoes and a lot of blooms on the tomato plants; several flowers on the zucchini and cucumber plants.

But no where was there anything on the peppers.

Then Tuesday I found this: A four-inch long sweet bananna pepper.

I got on the cell and called Sis, who was inside the house ranting about VDOT. I asked her to bring the camera to the fence so I could take a few shots proving we somehow managed a green thumb after all.

Sis wasn't content with that, however.

I've seen what you can do with Photoshop, Dirtymon, she said as she fought off the dogs long enough to slide through the barrier.

She arrived at the garden with me and saw for herself. Everyone else will have to see the pics below and trust they are originals and have not been altered.



Besides, would I ever tell a tale?

Goji's Are Berry-Berry Good

Several weeks ago Heir 2 was rooting around the pantry trying to find some fruit to put on top his trough of cereal. Shortly I heard him ask: What's a GojiBerry?

SisIggy explained it was a dried fruit I had found at the end of one of those display aisles at COSTCO last year. Dirtymon claims they taste like raisins, SisIggy exclaimed.

I was able to chime in that It tastes good with cereal and milk.

The Heir tried it, proclaiming he liked it too, the latter comment bringing a smirk to SisIg's face.

Heir 2 continued eating the berries for several days before reading the label's Best By Date.

These things are out of date, Heir 2 exclaimed as he tossed the remainder of the bag in the trash.

Fortunately, I was close at hand and retrieved said bag. If no one is going to eat them, I would offer them to the birds.

Later that week, when we were running out of suet cakes, I tossed a handful into the feeder. The woodpeckers and assorted other species quickly gobbled them up.

Today, out of cakes again, I filled the hopper and as I type this, I am anxiously awaiting for the first bird to grab a berry and proclaim the gold mine has once again opened.

My only regret is when it is gone, that feeder will be retired until the fall as the suet cakes are expensive and the birds go hog wild with them. The last 2 cakes lasted less than a day!

Dad 1, Vault 0

My father yesterday battled a 65-plus year-old vault and according to him, the vault had more of a dent than he did.

The vault, found in the bowels of John Handley High School in Winchester, housed priceless artwork from the Corcoran Museum of Art during World War II. It was remembered during the school's recent renovations and through a partnership of several local trusts and the Gallery, reproductions were authorized for a new local gallery to benefit local students and the community.

Dad was there with my mom, as she and her Class of 1949 celebrated its 60th reunion. The current principal gave the class a personal tour of the vault and dad somehow slipped and bashed his noggin on the door.

Several hours - and several interior stitches as well as 15 exterior ones later - dad was good as new and resting comfortable at home. Mom, meanwhile, went to her banquet last night ably assisted by SisIg, who volunteered her services.

Today, we understand, both are on the road attending the final festivities of the Class of 49.

Friday was Heir 2's Moment; Yesterday was Becca's

As everyone knows, Heir 2's big day was Friday, when he graduated high school.

Saturday, it was time for Sis Ig's and my granddaughter, Becca, who had her first schooling session. Becca will be the closest thing we have to a grandchild for quite some time. Right boys?

Heir 2, Caisee and Bon Voyage

There are times when others can say it best.

One final thought. Prior to Friday's graduation ceremony I admit I was just a little tiffed that Heir 2 was the only Strasburg High School National Honor Society member that was snubbed on the local scholarship presentations.

But it all became clear when the school presented the listing of all scholarships the graduates earned. Heir 2's acceptance of Roanoke College's prestigious Bittle Scholarship ($117,000 over four years) bested his closest classmate by $37,000 and most by $100,000 or more.

Not bad for an Italian-American / Heinz 57 prodigy who selected academics, senior-year hi jinks and a very talented girlfriend over major athletics, brown-nosing religious zealots and their parents.

We couldn't be more proud of both of you!

Nerdy Graduate

When all is said and done, this will probably be the least favorite photo in Heir 2's collection. He wanted a letter jacket, but didn't want it. He wouldn't wear it but then he did. For most of his high school career the school letter had more academic awards than athletic ones.

And that's how it should be as fewer people can provide a meal from athletic accomplishments than they can from academic endeavors.

And yet, when we went to the athletic banquet several nights ago, every senior letterperson had their photo taken and displayed against the backdrop of the bleachers. Afterwards, they took them home. For a majority, that night was the highlight of their life.

For Heir 2, it was just one of the final hurdles needed to exit life in Strasburg before heading off to a brand new and exciting world.

I'm proud of you Heir 2, even if it is a dorky, nerdy photo.

Rain, Rain Go Away

We've been watching the weather maps and rain gauges all week in anticipation of Heir 2's high school graduation tomorrow night. And it's beginning to look like his ceremony and party will both be indoors.*
And that's a shame - especially since SisIg and I have spent the bulk of the past two weeks sprucing up both the yard and the house for the multitudes.

I was hoping I would be able to mow one more time before the festivities began but the grass will just have to keep growing.

Since the last mowing - last Friday - we've had the following amounts of rain:

Saturday - trace
Sunday - 0.5 inches
Monday - none
Tuesday - 0.4 inches
Wedesday - 1.3 inches
Thursday - 1.5 inches

That's 3.7 inches and counting.

According to NOAA, we could have received between 1 and 3 inches Thursday night (we got 1.1 inches) and heavy rain is forecast all day Friday, which would put the already swollen Shenandoah River past flood stage.
Thursday Thursday
Afternoon: RAIN Night: HEAVY RAIN


Friday:
HEAVY RAIN

Which is why it's a good thing the school has a nice-sized gym to hold the ceremony - since the football field where the celebration normally is held could be under several feet of water (they built the darn thing within the FEMA 100-year flood zone.

*The school just called. The ceremony will be indoors, beginning at 7:30 pm. The doors open at 6:15 pm.

What Is It Doing to Your Body?

Grease is a sewer system's worse nightmare. Coupled with yeast and you have, what a good friend of mine would call, a clusterfuckation.

Fairfax County, Virginia officials have been dealing with such an event for several years and once they found the culprit, the county filed a lawsuit to force the company responsible to pay for the necessary repairs.

Krispy Kreme says the county doesn’t have any proof the grease is theirs – despite the trail of poly tri-glycerides leading from the company’s plant in Lorton and therefore shouldn’t be responsible for the $1.9 million bill.

County officials meanwhile said the clogged pipes allowed raw sewage to escape onto the surface in several places.

If the grease can clog a sewer main, just think what it can do to your arteries.

Farewell SHS

Today marks another milestone in the life of Dirtymon and SisIggy as Heir II embarks on his final day as a student at Strasburg High School. Sure he doesn't graduate until next Friday but his last actual class ends at around 3:20 pm today.

Next up will be baccalaurate on Sunday afternoon at Liberty Baptist. He says he's not interested but I bet he'll be there only because Caisee will be there and because, it's the right thing to do. Later Sunday will be the Academic Awards assembly at the school.

Wednesday is the Athletic Banquet where Joe gets to shed some of his geekiness to sit with the Cross Country Team. At least he picked a sport that allowed the geekiness to show a little.

He hasn't said anything but I wouldn't be surprised he has band practice Thursday since the band will be playing the National Anthem and the School Anthem (Shenandoah) at the graduation ceremony.

And then Friday night, after the last recessional, Heir II's status will change from a big fish in a little pond to a little fish in a small pond. He'll have four-plus years ahead of him at Roanoke College to once again be one of the big fishes.

But this morn don't be surprised to see Sis shed a tear or two when the Heir walks out the door. Just like she did five years ago when, as an eighth-grader, Heir II saw him get on Bus 37 for the first time. No wonder she wanted to homeschool him the first eight years of his learning experience.

RIP, Dear Friend

I learned the passing of a dear friend Wednesday, after what appears to have been a lengthy, slow and agonizing demise. I also learned only a few friends were around for her at the end but now the news has spread near and far, people are flocking to say their fond farewells and wonder, what if anything could have been done to prolong life.

Of course, I'm talking about The Clarke Courier, a 140-year-old weekly newspaper located in Berryville, VA. I had the honor of working part-time for the paper back in the late 80s and early 90s, becoming Sports Editor by default.

Like many businesses in these trying times it was hard trying to find or keep a client base. In newspapers, that base was fellow businesses and their advertising dollars or the lack thereof, that seems to have been the final blow.

The editor at the time, Val VanMeter, let me have free rein of the sports department (how much damage could I do when on a good week I had one whole page sans ads (126 column inches) and if I was really lucky and the only high school had several teams doing well, an extra half-page. I learned to barter with Louie Ebert, our General Manager and head of the ad department as he was the one who ultimately let me have my space.

Val also humored me by allowing me to occasionally write a regular news article (auto wrecks and fires were big ones) and on election nights, she let me help write the actual local election story.

But the biggest appeal to working at The Courier was working side-by-side with my wife, SisIggy, who was the paper's general assignment writer. Sis went with me on many a local high school athletic event where I took the necessary stats needed to produce a 15-inch story, and she - with camera in hand - taking action shots for the lone sports page.

Several years into the gig we even took our oldest son, Heir I with us, strapped in a backpack as we walked the football sidelines.

Val always had a summer picnic at her house for all the reporters and staff. She even invited back those who had gone onto better gigs and at one of these affairs we decided we decided to call ourselves TWITS (I don't know if anyone knew why then and, 20-plus years later, I know they don't know now).

We stopped having them in the mid 90s as our core group left but now the paper has had its swan song maybe its time to bring back the summer outing as there are more twits - the staffers who put in long hours for the past nine months - only to wake up and find themselves out of a job.

At least, we left voluntarily.

Dear Heloise,

Thought I would drop you a quick line to give your readers a sure-fire hint to clean a stubborn, dirty kitchen floor that's been bombarded by six muddy dogs (after three days of rain), two teenage boys and one Dirtymon.

All you need to do is fill a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, walk away from it for about five minutes and upon your return, the floor will be covered with approximately two inches of hot, sudsy water.

Then take a mop and bucket, soaking up the excess water. A wet-dry vacuum will also help followed by a roll of paper towels to eradicate the floor of the final vestiges of water.

When all is said and done, you will have a pristine floor clean enough to eat off of (at least until the six dogs, two boys and the Dirtymon returns.