WINTER SUCKS!!
As a child I had a very pleasant relationship with winter. That was because I never experienced it. My mother was a tad overprotective and I was never allowed out of the house during anything resembling winter. To attend school, which was visible from my back porch, I was either driven by my Father, a wonderful time I fondly remember, or on those days he was working and not able to drive, I was sent in a taxi. In addition, I was outfitted in two pairs of pants, heavy sweater, scarf, boots and hat. Everything has a silver lining. The extra clothing prevented me from getting hurt in the beatings that occurred because I was wearing all those cloths.
Anyway, by the time I was in third grade, I had learned to get in the cab, strip off all the extra cloths and pay the driver by the time we reached the corner. I’d do a quick recon to be sure no one was looking, stash the extra cloths in the alley between the corner store and the hardware and walk to school. Or on the rare occasions a cab was not called for me, I cut through our back yard, ditched the offending cloths in back of the garage and crossed Baburchack’s yard to reach the school. At night, I simply reversed the course. If I was supposed to call a cab to return home, I walked home, donned the extra cloths and waited on the porch until someone up the street slammed a car door, and then went in the house. Shamefully, I pocketed the cab fare. But I always used it for Christmas presents or donations to charity. (There was the occasional Chocolate binge!)
The extra cloths and cabs continued throughout Junior High, but by then, I had worked out strategies that let me escape most of it. By High School, I had a paper route and was out in the winter weather quite a bit. I remember being cold, but not disgusted with the whole thing.
The four years I spent at Oneonta were so entertaining, I don’t think winter ever dampened them. There were some memorable walks from downtown back to the campus. But I would stop at St. Mary’s, then stop at the Newman Club, then stop at the Phi Delt House and finally make the big push up the hill. One Christmas vacation, we all held up going home so we could spend a couple of nights camping at our mountain top retreat. That experience convinced me Winter Camping was just nuts. But I enjoyed it.
Even our graduate study jaunts to Cortland didn’t bring on fits of hate. Secretly I enjoyed driving in horrible conditions, it was a challenge. Then I started having my children in the car and it was no longer just me in danger. That took most of the fun out of it. And when they started driving themselves—Well if you have kids you know what I mean and if you don’t you will learn.
Anyway, the very first time I truly HATED winter was a morning in February about twenty years ago. It must have been a vicious winter, and once again my car was refusing to run. As I waited for the bus, the wind just beat on me, and I remember looking back toward the house and thinking, “This just sucks. “
Each year after that, I attacked winter. I made sure I was out in it on the coldest days. I refused to be held hostage or alter my plans, but still each year would have a particular day that marked the end of my patience.
Monday was this year’s last straw. I had a cold in the head which already had me down, but I was going to go ride horses anyway. I got there, learned how to saddle and bridle the most pleasant animal you ever met, and climbed into the saddle. Riding was numbingly cold, but went well. After unsaddling, brushing and getting the horse’s jacket on, I had to take him out to a field and “turn him out.” I walked him there, opened the chained gate, gave him a last carrot and then proceeded to take five minutes re-chaining the gate because I could not get my fingers to work. At that precise moment, winter 2008 – 2009 became a total pain in the ass.

PERFECT DAYS
During the past week I have lived through two nearly perfect days and several just down right good days.
Valentine’s Day was wonderful. It started with a long walk in pretty nice weather. Cold, but a good kind of cold. I got home and had real bacon and eggs for breakfast, then Kay and I installed a door on the new office room upstairs. The job went exactly the way all the How To Do It shows say it should.
Next stop was the zoo. We stayed in the Lion’s Den and “helped” the chef prepare the samples for those who had toured the zoo. Helping involved putting crackers on a plate, watching the chef add super materials, dishing out gelato and passing all this out to the tour people. Of course any leftovers had to be consumed and God Forbid the Gelato got soft. Then the only cure was to eat it and dish up some fresh gelato. In between we played with chinchillas and lizards and turtles and one cranky parrot named Loreto.
Then home to change and off to the Anderson Center for dinner before the show. We were shown to our seats at the table we had been assigned and low and behold, two of the people were from NYSRTA, two were people we had traveled to Ottawa with and the other two were a lady I had taught with for years and her significant other. We spent a delightful time with all these people and then attended the Dublin Philharmonic Orchestra with Irish Country Performers. A wonderful evening to cap off a wonderful day.
Then today, I drove up to Whitney Point to visit my doctor for my yearly check up. All the numbers looked great and I have another cancer free year to look forward to. On the way back, I stopped at a friends who runs a stable on Front street. I spent an hour riding (actually walking) a horse around an arena with her. Great company and fun horse. As it turns out, I never learned how to ride a horse, I learned how not to fall off a horse. She seems interested in teaching me to ride a horse. Best of all, I am not stiff or sore in any way. Yeah Yoga!
When I returned home, I did a very small amount of work and spent the rest of the day engaged in fun stuff. I think I am finally getting the hang of this life style.

Might this be a picture??
I will now try and add a picture of the coffee table Nick and I made at Christmas. This will measure how far my technology education has progressed. Here goes!!!!
This says I have done it! How come I don't see it???

CONSTRUCTION UPDATE.
What a weight was lifted off my back on Wednesday. As our “Molding change” project in the bathroom took over our lives, we lost sight of life in general. Everything revolved around –THE JOB.
It seemed a good idea at first and it turned out to be a blessing. (Amazing how many of those have occurred since I started to look for them) But sandwiched in between was some real worry.
For those unaware of what I am ranting about this time, we decided to change the wall paper in the bathroom. We were already doing a lot of work in the upstairs, finishing off a room with new walls, moldings and a built in desk, bookcase, file system. All fun and good. So if the upstairs is ripped up anyway, lets go all out. We had the wallpaper already. We started stripping the old off. Well, that involved pulling the molding around ceiling and floor, so what a good time to fix the ceiling which I hated. And why not really do the floor this time? Lets get Scott Callaway to tile it. He did a spectacular job on the bathtub area.
So Scott came, took one look at our floor and said, “This is too weak to tile over. You need to pull the floor, strengthen it and put down new stuff. OK. Three years ago I would have freaked. Now it is just one more adventure. Little did I know!!!
The plan was to cut the old floor out, close to the bathtub and close to the vanity, but leaving the floor under those fixtures. (The thought of the alternative was Scotch inducing) It took about two days to get the front part out safely, then discovered that the mystery was not why the floor appeared weak, but how did it stay there at all. Basically, a large beam ran parallel to the outside wall with all the floor jousts tied into it. Very good, except this beam ran two feet inside the outside wall. The remaining two feet was bridged by – nothing! Or to be accurate, nothing that remained attached to anything. A few pieces of wood were run from the beam to the outside wall, but they had separated from the beam years ago. So, with big slices of wood and lots of lag bolts, we added support.
When that section was done we moved on, and here is the blessing. The toilet, (Installed by professionals two years ago) had been leaking. If we had not pulled up the floor, we would have been in serious trouble within a year. So, that section was easier to fix because I now had an idea what to do. The final step,was to cut plywood that would match the cuts near the bathtub and vanity and still go under the rim of the toilet pipe. this involved some pretty intricate measuring, layout and cutting. Nice when it is done, but hair raising ( If I had any hair!) during.
When all was put in place, we called Scott back and he pronounced the job well done and took over the rest. He did an incredibly beautiful job. Then we turned to Nick’s Friend Jay. He came three times to make sure the job was done right, went well beyond the normal quality and took the time to explain what he was doing and why. I will never be a plumber or anything close, but I do like to understand the intricacies of a job . It was also fun having both of them here for dinner and a visit. We really needed a break by then.
Finally, with the job complete, we took a day off. We went out to Windsor and toured the Lionel Store. I would love to dig out my old trains and set them up along with the HO layout I have now. But that visit convinced my unless I win the lottery, that won’t happen. I don’t want a toy train running around a small circle, I want an empire!!.
Then we stopped and visited with Bill and Mary Miller for awhile. I enjoyed this immensely. Today, back to the next construction job.

WHY I AM NOT A COACH
So how did it go?? Well, while Phoenix worked on getting the ball to James, either hand off or pass, they fell behind by 13 points. When they said to hell with it we're throwing to Fitzgerald, they went ahead.
But, I must say, that was the worst defense I have ever seen in a big game. On the last two plays they apparently did some form of double coverage on the receiver, Ben threw to him anyway, and he was open. On the winning catch, there were three guys watching. That means someone was waving his hands and yelling real loud,"I'm open, I'm open" Oh well.

Super Bowl or Stupor Bowl??
This is being written at 5 PM February 1, 2009
My Prediction and why. Phoenix will win because they will NOT throw the ball to Larry Fitzgerald 20 times. They will do exactly what the Giants did ( to everyone) They will stick a super big, talented (Though not the best shot in the world) wide receiver on the edge, make Pittsburg double cover him and run Edgerin James 20 times.
Since an offensive line loves to beat the people up across from them, this gives them every opportunity to do that.
Pittsburg always has trouble scoring and Phoenix is good enough to control that part of the game. Final Score?? Who knows?

HORSE STORY
All my childhood I was horse crazy. Remember, this was the day of cowboys and Indians played with toy guns and high standards. I faithfully watched Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, The Lone ranger and later Bonanza. I knew everything about each cowboy’s horse. Actually I found the horses much more interesting than the cowboys.
Fueled by stories from my parents who had both grown up on farms that relied on the original horse power to get work done, and by the occasional visit to a stables to rent heaven for an hour, I developed the dream of one day owning lots of horses,. They would share Sunnybank II with the collies. But money being scarce, the stable visits were also scarce. And life moved me through high school and on to Oneonta to be civilized.
Imagine my joy when I learned that not only did Oneonta have a stables, the owners were always looking for students willing to work in exchange for free rides. Everyone came out a winner. The family in charge, offered horse owners one of two contracts. If you owned a valuable horse you might choose to pay a fairly high fee. You would be guaranteed room, board, grooming and regular exercise provided by a knowledgeable horseman.
If on the other hand, you were not as particular about your animal, you could pay a lesser fee. The horse would still be fed and boarded, but exercise would be provided by customers who came to the stables to rent horses. On any given day, your horse might be ridden by six different people, none of them knowing what they were doing. Grooming would be provided, but again by someone like me who might not know a lot. But then a shovel only has two ends and a bright college student can generally figure out which end is safe to grab.
On an especially gorgeous day in September of 1968, I showed up for my first day of work. Handed a shovel and shown several stalls, I quickly overcame revulsion and “dug” in. The unpleasantness of the job was overcome by the thought riding the beautiful palomino or the stunning grey that watched me from the coral. When I had finished, I was lead past both those horses to a side stall where the ugliest creature I had ever set eyes on stood. To qualify as a horse, an animal must be 16 hands at the shoulder. A hand is 4 inches, so quick math says the horse must be 4’ 8 at the shoulder. This “horse” could have only been 4’ 8 1/16 . Adding to his attractiveness was his color -- grey mixed with dirt, only the dirt never washed off. But by far the most disgusting thing were his eyes. Piebald is a gentle description. Wild and scary more accurate.
Disappointed and angry, I nearly told the owner to stick the fork where it would do the most good. But, I had endured all that stink, so I might as well get something for it. A saddle was quickly thrown on the miserable creature and I jumped on – and into a two year love affair.
I was to learn what perfection was hidden inside that ugly body. He never wanted to end a ride, never showed any fear no matter where we went or how noisy it was, never once failed to respond to any request. And never have I ridden a horse with an easier gate. He was the most even tempered, pleasant animal I have ever been around. We became great friends.
Alas after two years, insurance issues caused the family to stop allowing “volunteers” to work around the horses. That meant actual money needed to change hands to continue riding. Life also interfered. Within a blink of time a highway was being built through the old riding track and stables and the inmates were gone.