Angels and a Cannon in Utterby

Lift up your eyes in St Andrew's Church, Utterby and you are in for a wonderful treat...

...a host of heavenly angels.



They are paper angels and were made by Martin Pidgen.



He is so talented.



Each angel has a different face, different hairstyle.



I couldn't help but wonder whether they were based on people or children he knows.

They are individually beautiful, but collectively amazing and fit so well into the church. He made them for Christmas, however, I hope they remain for a long time.

Over the years Martin has made lots of different sculpture groups - a group of carol singers, Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar, Pocahontas and John Smith, Unsung Heroes, What the Dickens, to name a few. His artwork has also been displayed in Lincoln Cathedral, as well as other local churches.

He makes them up as he goes along - not following any design simply feeling his way with them, finding what works.

Outside St Andrew's the remains of the medieval cross can be seen...now just a three tier plinth. Quite unremarkable, you may think. But the story of the missing cross is quite interesting.

Local history says that this cross was knocked off its base by a misdirected cannon ball which was fired from the vicinity of the packhorse bridge (which I posted about here) by Cromwellian troops. The target, Utterby Manor, which lies directly opposite the church, was the home of a Royalist sympathiser.

Here is a little glimpse of the Manor house; opposite the church and less than a hundred yards from the pack horse bridge.

A Long, Long Time Ago...

One time, way back when I was in college, I moved all my stuff out of my boyfriend's house while he was away at work one day.
And I didn't tell him where I'd gone.
I'd caught him making out at a party the weekend before, with a girl who had both nipples pierced. When I approached them in the yard, at the party, he asked her to lift her shirt for me. So I could see that both nipples were pierced.
That summer, he'd been working at Nordstroms in men's suits. She'd been working across the aisle at the cosmetics counter doing makeovers.
I'd been upstairs working at J.Crew as head cashier.

So I left.
I moved into a house, up in the hills with a gigantic backyard in the eucalyptus trees, with three guys. One had his weiner pierced, one was an artist with a pet rabbit and a turtle and one was still in school majoring in philosophy. And after a few weeks we decided that we all got along ok enough that we'd make a go at having a garden out back.
And maybe make a few bucks while we were at it. Because my new $6 an hour job at the local latte' shop just wasn't cuttin' it.
So we planted our garden in the back yard. We watered the garden. We sprayed their little leaves and we sheltered them. We named them. We transplanted each plant into it's own pot. We fed them perfectly mixed nutrients and we waited and hoped while they grew.
And then one day while I was alone, there was a knock on the front door. And there were three men in utility suits standing on our front porch.

There's a sewer line on the top right side of your yard and we need to do some maintenance, they told me. We're letting you know that we're going up into your yard.
And before I could stop them, they'd walked around to the side of the yard and were proceeding up the side stairs straight into the plant area.
I went back into the house and opened the sliding glass door to the yard and let our two large and threatening dogs out into the back yard. And then they laid down on the patio to watch the festivities and lick each other.
And then I walked out to the side yard to greet the utility men while they walked through all of our "potted" plants. I stood in the middle of our carefully manicured forest while they made their way through them, looking around in wonderment.
And as the last of the three men passed by me, he pulled his sunglasses down to the edge of his nose to look me directly in the eye and he smiled big at me.
As they climbed our hill, I stood there, with my arms folded. And when they got to the top, they called down to me and waved and pointed to the sewer area as if to say, see, there really is a sewer line here. And then they lifted the cover and chatted a little and placed it back and chatted some more and then left down the side of the house still chatting.
And then I went inside and locked all the doors and smoked a bowl.
By the time my roommates starting returning a few hours later, from their daily activities, I'd already pulled every single one of our "plants" into the house to safety.
And then I sort of forgot about what happened and made myself a liverwurst sandwich and sat down to watch Welcome Back Kotter, when the first roommate arrived home.
What the fuck he said. Yeah, what the fuck I said.
And then we made the executive decision to shred them all, with the exception of keeping two each. With that, we reasoned - as we statistically evaluated the probability of at least 1/3 of the plants actually being female, we'd still have something in the end.
So we did. And we ended up with better statistics than the 30% ratio we'd predicted. And then I bought myself a neat little old red karman ghia.

And then one day on the way to my new job of selling flowers, I got out of my newly purchased karman ghia with my new boyfriend and ran into my old boyfriend. And I said hello to him and introduced him to my new boyfriend Jeremy, the one with the pierced weiner.

Where streamlets meander

Ozzie's Turn

Ozzie here! FINALLY! I take ballet lessons from a neighbor two doors up. When I do good, I get a shrimp!
Now, as every kitty knows, after a meal of shrimp, it behooves one to administer a self-spa treatment.
First, examine nails and paws. Turn up the stereo. Next, check out tail and tummy. Bathe scrupulously.
Ahhhhhhhh. Now demand dinner from the peeps. And keep that golden sis away from your supper dish - hisssssssssssssss. (Ask her if she can perform a grand jette!)

Reunion and a Bike Ride

Didn't do much in the morning. Breakfast buffet at the hotel with army buddies. Visited in the hospitality room. Today was the day the most folks are arriving.

HAD to get out for a bike ride. Headed to Boulder City to ride per bike shop suggested. Had some problems getting out of the Strip are - which streets go through, or goes under/over the strip and I-15. When I got to Boulder City had to stop at a gas station for direction to the bike trail parking.

Where I parked, I could ride down hill as far as I could see or up hill (where I could see for about 1/2 mile). Started down hill to see how steep the hill is. Steeper than it looks.

Decided to turn around and ride up. Did not want to ride up hill at the end of the ride to get back to the car. Topped the hill at about 1.5 miles from the car. Could have ridden on down the a casino - but did not want to climb back up. Photo above was taken while riding back downhill to the car. Interesting mile markers on the trail.

With a little research, I found out the trail I was on was the River Mountains Loop Trail. From the mile marker, I a thinking the mile 0 was at the Casino at Railroad Pass.

Guessing the hill was 4-7% grade. Most at or above the grade across the Bob Bridge (at max 4.9%). Legs were tired by the time i finished.

Back at the hospitality room for a whole. Looking for food. Buffet was $17 and more food than I wanted. Same with the pub in the hotel. Checked another restaurant on the strip - almost as much $$ than the buffet. Ended up at Denny's - chick-fried steak, fries, and salad. Just about that I needed.

More of the group arrived. Visited for a while. All were getting tired - early "get-up" to shoot the golf tournament.

Return of the prodigal

I have returned from New Zealand after an amazing tour of the North Island. I thought I had seen everything on the South Island, but the North managed to produce vistas and scenery that was so different that it was difficult to believe I had returned to the same country. Those who haven't been to New Zealand really should make a point of visiting, as it is truly an amazing country. I took a lot of pictures, so it will probably take a while to get them all uploaded (I still haven't finished writing the narrative).
In the meantime, I have returned to insufferable heat, but at least my usual riding patch is still looking green after some apparently fierce thunderstorms while I was away. One of the things about being away for a while is that I always come home and want to catch up on my local rides, having done none of them for a few weeks (months in some cases). My body also craves endorphins on a regular basis, having just cycled over 1,800km in three weeks. Keeping those under control wasn't helped by receiving the Audax calendar for the upcoming year recently. I also have plenty of places to explore in the Mt Jerusalem National Park to the south.
Too much riding to do and too little time.

How Dry I Am (Not!)

Today was my first ride to work in a real rain. I'd always managed to dodge the showers and ride in a drizzle, or just on wet pavements, but not today. This morning it was about 50 degrees with a steady, but relatively light rain.
I took it slow since I didn't wear my glasses, had a tiny hint of a headache, and wanted to allow more time for my brakes to work. I also figured folks in cars were having a hard enough time without having to worry about hitting me, so I wanted be extra careful. In all, it was a great ride, and I was quite comfortable.
My PI convertible cycling jacket/vest kept my core warm and dry (and conspicuous with its high-viz yellow color), and my baselayer tights kept my legs warm, though they were wet. My gloves were soaked and my head wet, too, but mostly I noticed that my shoes were flooded. I've been wearing SmartWool socks, and they are great. I did get to experience that whole "wool is warm when wet" thing, but I could feel the water welling up in my sneakers, especially when I hit puddles. I imagine I will need to get some kind of wet weather bootie for my feet.
Now the big question for you bicycle commuters. How do you, or do you, dry your gear when you get to the office so that you aren't putting on cold, damp clothing for the ride home?
I've got my gloves on an air vent at my cube, and I put my shoes on air vents in a seldom used lab/conference room. I draped my shorts over my PC. I also put my baselayer top and bottom on hangers and put them inside a server rack in the lab. In all, I think I'm being somewhat inconspicuous and respectful to my coworkers, but I'd love to hear your stories and ideas.

Merry Merry

Christmas for us means brunch at Mom and Dad’s. People who have had that breakfast have a hard time not coming back, even if they have moved on from our family. Mom turns out several varieties of eggs, creamed chipped beef, sausages, potatoes, chocolate muffins and an infamous pecan cinnamon coffee cake which can induce riots in the buffet line. This year we added three sailors since my niece joined the Navy and was married over Thanksgiving. It was probably our first and last Christmas for some time with the fleet, as my niece is being assigned to Japan, and her husband will hopefully soon join her.
My eldest brother is the juice and coffee steward. My other brother mans the scrambled eggs, and due to the bigger crowd we consumed over 4 dozen this year. My sister in law did the seating arrangements, and thanks to her, there were no fights. I was recovering from a stomach bug so I lay low as the swarms of children buzzed around.
Christmas used to mean trimming the tree on Christmas Eve, dating back to the times when Dad would wait until the tree sellers on Mass Ave had packed it in for the season. After they turned the lights off, he’d go over to the lots and root around in the dark. Sometimes the trees would be straggly and sometimes they would be OK, but he never knew what he had until he got home. Then, one year, when things were good, he grandly ordered a tree from Friendship Florist, and it was the worst tree EVER, so he never did that again. By the time I came along, he was no longer liberating leftovers. Instead, I remember going to the Florida Avenue Market, and Dad would haggle with the vendors. I always had to pretend like I could care less about a tree, and be prepared to walk away and hang out at the ash can fire if the deal didn’t turn out, but we always went home with one, much to my relief.
A quick survey finds 1941 to be a favorite Christmas. It was the first year they had bought a home of their own in River Terrace. There was a live Cocker Spaniel puppy under the tree in a box. And a Lionel train with real smoke. My mom and sister had matching red velvet dresses which my mother had made by a dress maker instead of having to do them herself. Plus, my mother says it was the last year you could actually get everything you wanted before the rationing of World War Two got underway.
Another favorite was around 1939. That was the first year that Dad’s parents let him bring his non-Greek wife to Christmas at their place on Macomb Street. Dad remembers giving his father seat covers for his car. Papou thought they were blankets and tried to wear one.
The family has always had a Christmas party at Yiya’s and Papou’s house. My brother remembers they had a table top tree which he thought was a bit skimpy, but they lived in an apartment. I remember when they lived on Upton Street. Back then the Post Office that is there now was a Safeway, and I always admired my grandmother for keeping a grocery cart in her front yard. I also remember they'd gotten an aluminum Christmas tree, which eliminated any midnight runs to tree lots.
Now my Dad is the Papou of the family. He has eleven grandchildren and seven greats, and although it’s not as traumatic as Thanksgiving, they still put on a tree trimming party AND the world famous brunch Christmas morning. This year with the fleet, there were twenty six of us grateful pilgrims singing "Anchors Away". Once again I have to say thanks. Hope everyone had as good a holiday as we did.

Whitewater and sea kayaking in Yorkville

Panoramic shot of the whitewater park and the new Geneva Kayak Outdoor Center.

Most of the time, we drive east to paddle on Lake Michigan. But yesterday, we went west to Yorkville, Ill. to check out Geneva Kayak Center's new Yorkville Outdoor Center on the also-new Glen D. Palmer Whitewater Canoe/Kayak Chute.

It's a nice location: the whitewater course is right outside the door of the outdoor center, and a concrete walkway allows paddlers to easily carry their boats from the bottom of the run back up to the top. The landscaping isn't yet done, and Geneva Kayak is still putting finishing touches on the shop, but both are ready enough for action.

Sharon and Bill Burton putting in at the top of the chute. Mounds of debris and cement blocks testify to the recent completion of the chute and the work yet to come on the landscaping.

The river was high and the current was fast -- about 3,000 cubic feet per second (CFS) -- so we felt comfortable running it once in a fiberglass boat. From there, we headed down the Fox River.

One of the appeals of Geneva's Yorkville Location is the easy access to a lovely section of the Fox. You can paddle various distances to a number of easy take-outs.

At one point, we heard rapids and saw a horizon line ahead of us--the tell-tale signs of what could be a low-head dam. We knew that there was a broken-out dam at this point on the river and that it was runnable, but we decided to get out and scout anyway.

Getting out to scout ahead.

It turned out to be a broken-out dam of no significance, which we happily paddled through.

All that sound didn't signify much.

With air temperatures in the lower 50s, water in the upper 30s and a 90 percent chance of rain, we knew it was going to be an interesting weather day. And it was. At various times, we enjoyed rain...



and fog...



and even encountered a few small ice bergs floating along. But mostly, we enjoyed a very quiet trip down a pretty section of the fox.

When we returned to Geneva Kayak Center, it was getting cooler and starting to rain more heavily, but we hopped in our whitewater boats and spent some time playing in the features.

The view at 3,000 CFS

There were plenty of nice surf waves along with wave trains and squirrelly eddy lines. A serious play boater might find the offerings limited, but we appreciated the opportunity to paddle hard and tune up our rusty whitewater skills in our newer shorter boats.

We drove home in the dark and the rain, reflecting on how wonderful kayaking outdoors makes us feel. We appreciate the connection with the natural world and the physical pleasure of paddling our boats, and we always go home happy.

Sage Advice:

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument

Enough of this sleeping in and taking it easy. Today I decided to check out Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument before my bike ride. Kasha-Katuwe was made a national monument in January 2001.

I had not heard about the monument until I saw information about it in the Albuquerque "Official Visitor's Guide". Since it is located 55 miles north of Albuquerque - I had to check it out. Think you know that I am big on National Parks, National Monuments, and National Historic Sites.

In order to get the better feel of the location, I walked the Cave Loop Trail to the Slot Canyon Trail. Had to check out the canyon so walked into the canyon a little - enough to take a couple photos. Had to stop several times to rest my leg/knee and catch my breath. I actually was surprised how far I was able to walk (considering the bike path climbing yesterday).

To hike the whole Slot Canyon Trail, would mean 630 foot climb in the mile trail length. I would have liked to hike up and see from the top, but figured it would be over my knee's ability. And, my breathing was laboring enough with the altitude.

Back to the Cave Loop, I was thinking of walking the rest of the loop, but the trail seemed to get a bit steeper and I still had to walk back to the car. Walking back, I could see that there was a lot of elevation change on the trail.

Next stop was to drive up to the Veteran's Memorial Scenic Overlook. The 3 mile gravel road was no problem. Great views from the overlook.

Chores and R&R at Bull Run (Again)

I declare the camping season open! Sure, the weather hasn’t been great today; but it could have been worse. Sure, we spent more time working than playing today; but we could have been at home doing the same thing. This is our first outing of the season and a necessary one since we don’t have the luxury of keeping our coach at home. This is the weekend we get things set up so we can enjoy future outings with the sole purpose of having fun.

Bull Run Regional Park (BRRP) is about 16 miles (25.5 km) from where we live. Since we keep early hours at work, we were able to leave the house shortly after 3:00p yesterday and miss most of the west-bound traffic that tends to clog the freeway during rush hour. An hour later, we were checked in at the campground and trying to figure out if our assigned site (104) was going to work for us.

It’s an easy drive from our house to the campground.

When we stayed at BRRP last year, we had an electric-only site on the outer loop, with plenty of privacy. This time, we reserved a less-private, full hook-up (jurisdiction rate $43.58 with tax) so we wouldn’t have to worry about water usage while we worked to make the Phaeton spic-and-span clean.

Best laid plans and all that. When we pulled into the site, it immediately became obvious that we’d have a heck of a time getting the rig level. We were willing to give it a shot, but then Mui noticed that the water hook-up was broken. A phone call to the camp store fixed that problem within minutes. By then, however, we were sure the site wasn’t going to work for us. So, while Mui filled the fresh water tank, I returned to the camp store and arranged to relocate to a 50-Amp, electric-only site (jurisdiction rate $34.12 with tax) on the outer loop.

So far so good, right? Wrong! We got to the site, leveled the rig, deployed the slides, and went to hook up the power. No Power!!!! Nada!!!! Zilch!!!! A phone call to the camp store quickly brought someone by to take a look. A flurry of switches flipped — still no juice. More switches flipped — power on … no wait, it’s off again. Long story short, the power was finally restored to the pole, but there was no power in the coach! What to do? With overnight temps projected to dip below freezing, can’t not have power. Then, like magic, there was power. Mui’s theory — all that switch-flipping must have confused the surge protector and it took a while for it to reset itself and allow juice to flow into the rig.

We're in #29, next door to the site we stayed in last time.

It was 7:00p by the time we were finally settled down for the day. After a quick dinner of leftovers we’d brought from home, we relaxed for a bit, watching an old episode of Without a Trace on TV. By 10:00p, we were under the down comforter snoozing away. Well, Mui was; I had a bit of difficulty falling asleep at first because my body just refused to get warm — happens to me sometimes if I let my body temperature drop too much. After a while, I too must have dozed off as the next thing I remember is Mui getting up shortly before 6:00a.

The outside temp was 33F (1C … actually less). As you can imagine, that made it awfully difficult to leave the warm cocoon of the bed. But we roused ourselves, cranked up the thermostat to warm up the coach, and were soon having breakfast. Later, while I cleaned cabinets and put things away, Mui took a quick trip back to the house to meet up with a buyer for one of our “Craigslisted” furniture items. (Yes, the downsizing has begun.) It was worth the trip; the buyer decided to also buy one of our wool rugs! And not to worry; Mui was put to work with his share of chores once he returned to the rig.

Since we didn't need to tow for this short trip, we brought the hybrid instead
of the toad; more carrying capacity.

By lunch time, most of the work was done and we were ready for the R&R portion of our weekend. What to do was the question since it had been raining on and off all day. Just then, the sun peeked through the clouds. Before it could go back into hiding, we took a walk around the campground, checking out sites for future visits. The consensus — the electric-only sites on the outer loop are the best for privacy. We also glimpsed the cabins that are available for rent (staying in one of them would have been an option had the power situation not resolved itself last night).

The passenger-side is heavily-forested; nice when the foliage greens up.

We returned to the coach just as it started to rain again. While Mui read for a while, and then snoozed for a bit, I played with the post-processing of the photos I took around the campground. (I shoot Raw, so I have to process them before I can upload them for the blog.) I have a free-copy of Picasa on my laptop, and I have to say that I am impressed enough with what it does to consider paying for the upgraded version of the application. That said, I don’t like processing images on a laptop when the angle of the screen changes the way the colors look. I’ll have to look at this post on my Mac at home before I make a decision.

Scenes from around the BRRP campground.

By the way, BRRP does not have wi-fi. Last week, we decided to test Millenicom for our internet connectivity. The fact that there is no long-term contract was the deciding factor for us. We’re starting with the 20GB data package, which uses the Verizon 3G network. So far, we’re very happy with the speed. For this short weekend trip, we’re taking turns using the thing-a-ma-jig (aircard, if you want to get technical) that gives us the connectivity. We plan to take our router when we go on our 10-day trip coming up later in April. Plugging the aircard into the router should give us simultaneous connectivity. That, and figuring out how to monitor our usage, is TBD.

Anyway, dinner time is at hand. The rain has stopped, and the sun is out again. The temp has risen to 50F (10C), but it will start going down again soon. I think we’ll skip al fresco dining tonight.

Arrive at Association Island, Henderson Harbor, NY

Arrive at Association Island our home for the Summer. The drive across the causeway is impressive.



The Arial view from the brochure is most impressive.

View of Island from Overlook on Route 3

Home Sweet Home

The Maintenance Man

Marina

Sunset