Let There Be Light

Let there be light!
And there was light.
And the man looked upon the light.
And the man's mate looked upon the light.
And the man said to his mate, "That's one ugly mutha!"
And the man's mate agreed.
And the man and his mate decided to replace the light.
And so it came to pass.

One Ugly Mutha

CRASH!  Uh, oh, that can't be good. 

I was taking my daily, after-lunch nap at the time.  The loud crash and the sound of breaking glass ended that endeavor.  Upon exiting the bedroom, I saw what had happened: the bottom glass shade on the fan-light had popped off the keyhole pegs and crashed onto the dining room table.  Our housekeeper was dusting the (spinning) blades, tapped one blade just enough to nudge the shade off the pegs.

I did the same thing a couple years ago, nudged the spinning fan with a ladder.  CRASH!  Glass everywhere, nasty gouges in our solid oak dining table.  The mental midget that designed the damned light should have his ass kicked up between his ears. 

I hated those fan lights from day one.  I think they were designed to fit a Chinook helicopter, and besides being ugly, they didn't put out enough light.  Anyway, enough was enough, and I said to Trish, "Those darn things are outta here."  We both got online and started shopping.

The Chinook rotor blades have now been replaced with a couple props that were spares for the Spirit of St Louis.  Although I've installed and removed several fan lights over the years, I hired a handyman to install the new ones.  Didn't need the aggravation - nor the pulled arm muscle that was a side benefit of the one I installed outside awhile back.  Took a year for the arm to fully recover.

Coincidentally, we had recently decided to replace the pair of recessed 'can' lights above the raised bar area of the kitchen peninsula.  Trish suggested pendants.  Great idea!  Off to Lowe's we went, the first of several buy-that/return-this trips to get the correct components.  The install was tricky because the track had to be at a 45 degree angle and I had to cut a hole in the top of pot shelf to access the electric wire.  I finished the installation a couple days ago, also added a dimmer.

And the man looked upon the lights and was pleased.
And the man's mate looked upon the lights and said, "Oh yeah!"

The end.

Go With the Flow 3

Go With the Flow, 3of 3

Acrylic on Canvas

36" x 24"

The Complete Flow Set

RIP

RANGER
Always a Gentleman

2003-2018

RIP

Born in Boston and raised in the Pacific Northwest, Ranger was a traveling pooch from the get go.  In late 2009, he moved to Arizona to pursue his interest in Therapy Dog work, which kept him busy during the school year but left him free to travel in the summer.  He traveled extensively in North America, from Alaska to Mexico, from California to Nova Scotia.  He retired, rather reluctantly, in 2015.  Ranger is survived by his adoptive parents, Trish and Mike, and his brother, Artie. 

Ranger dictated this to me awhile back. 
 In his own words:

"It was great ride!  My adoptive parents loved me a lot, took great care of me, hauled me all over the place so I could read the local pee-mail.  And the food, OMG!  Mom really knew how to get my tail wagging.  I'm sorry I had to leave but it was time.  I was stiff and sore, 

couldn't see well, kept tripping and bumping into things.  Very embarrassing! 

I know you'll miss me but I live on in your hearts and memories."  

"Here is a celebration of my life, in pictures."  

"My first kayak trip.  It was okay but chasing balls was more fun." 

 "Tried this sheep-like look for awhile when I was a teenager, 

but it wasn't really working for me."  

"Didn't the fool the sheep, either."

"Later, I tried the mustache look, more sophisticated - and in keeping with my Boston roots."

"We came across this big lug while hiking in the Yukon.  

I was ready to take him on but Mom was worried I might get hurt.  Spoil sport!"

"I was quite fond of humans but never understood why they kept fighting each other 

like they did here, over and over.  Pretty silly."

"Mom put me up to this.  Told me to sit in the stupid boat so she could take a stupid picture.  
I thought she was going to give me a ride but she didn't put any coins in the stupid machine.  So I just had to sit there, looking stupid.  The look on my face reflects my mood, kinda resentful."  

 "My little brother, Artie, was rude and pushy at first, had to give him lots of corrections.

It was touch and go for awhile, but we finally became best friends."

"A girl driving a flatbed Ford?  Really?

"I blended in nicely here at the Colorado National Monument.
Artie, not so much.  He kept fading, a strawberry blonde wannabe."

Go With the Flow 2

The 2nd of 3 paintings on the same theme.

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas.

Rosy Cliff Dwellings

Rosy is Roosevelt Lake's nickname; the cliff dwellings themselves aren't rosy at all.  They're (relatively) easy to access via a steep, half-mile, paved trail that starts at the Tonto National Monument visitor's center.  A fee is charged for trail usage: $7 per person.  However, if you're a senior citizen with an OFP (Old Fart Pass), it's free.  Eat your heart out, you young whippersnappers!

Below, Trish pauses on the trail to the cliff dwellings to do her classic Lewis and Clark pose, pointing out the route ahead.  Actually, she's pointing at a saguaro cactus with several, downward-pointing arms, fairly low to the ground.  She dubbed it the Hula Skirt Saguaro.

Up close and personal, the dwellings aren't that impressive but do have one hell of a view.  That's Lisa in the picture below.

Below, David, wannabe building inspector, critically examines the structural integrity.

The shot below was taken from the parking lot of the visitor's center at 10X zoom.

The Salado Indians built and occupied the dwellings around 1250.  200 years later, they abandoned the site.  Why?  Nobody knows.  The reason may have been climate change, rendering them unable to continue growing their crops.  Or, it could have been encroachment from more aggressive Indian tribes.  Where did they go?  Nobody knows.  If you happen to be a long-lost member of the Salado Tribe, perhaps you could enlighten us?

Roosevelt Lake, AZ

Roosevelt Lake is a 22-mile long reservoir on the Salt River, 40 miles northeast of Phoenix.  Trish and I, along with friends David & Elaine, Terry & Lisa, set up camp there for 3 days last week.  Tom, a fraternity brother who lives in Casa Grande, joined us for one night.  We were near the marina, good privacy, quiet, with a lovely view of the Lake and surrounding mountains.  Our rigs are pictured below.

At one time, Roosevelt Dam was the highest masonry dam in the world, and Roosevelt Lake was the largest man-made lake in the world.  That time is long gone.  The dam was built in 1906-11, cost $1 million, was dedicated by Teddy himself in 1911.  It was renovated and expanded 77' upward in 1989-1996 at a cost of $430 million.  Inflation, you know.

Concurrently with the dam renovation, a new bridge was built just above the dam.  At 1080' in length, it's the longest single-span, steel-arch, two-lane bridge in North America.  Before the bridge was built, the road went across the top of the dam.

Dateline Egypt, Part 5

There's no lack of attractive women in Egypt.  And there's no lack of women who want to escape the sexist, super-restrictive life style they're forced to endure in that Muslim-dominated country.

I was one of five long-term, single guys working on the wastewater project in Alexandria in the early 80s.  I'm the only one of the five guys that returned to the States without a native wife in tow.

Were I of the female persuasion, I too, would be desperately seeking a way out.  Here's how it was for women:
1.  Any single woman not living with her parents was considered a whore.

2.  No single woman could be seen in public with a single man unless there was a chaperone along.

3.  On the day after a wedding, blood stained sheets had to be displayed outside as evidence the bride was a virgin.  Got ketchup?

Boys will be boys.  Girls will be girls.  Hormones will be hormones.  Imaginative ways around the restrictions were widely known and widely practiced.  It was, presumably still is, nothing but a sham, keeping up appearances.

Muslims don't drink?  Bullshit.  Muslims don't mess around before marriage.  More bullshit.  Anything goes as long as it's not done in public.  I have a dim view of religion in general.  Although some followers toe the line, hypocrisy seems to run rampant.  In countries like Egypt where there's no separation of church and state, hypocrisy reigns supreme.

Yes, I dated an Egyptian woman.  A Coptic, not a Muslim.  Sharp as a tack.  Educated in England, had a masters degree, spoke 4 languages, ran a travel agency.  She was an excellent tennis player, often beat me in singles.  Coptic or not, she had to adhere to the ridiculous moral code described above, and understandably, wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.

She suggested a marriage of convenience but I wasn't up for it.  I was recently divorced, had no desire to remarry - even if it was supposed to be temporary.  I advised her to reconnect with another expat she had dated before me.  I knew the man, an agriculture specialist/advisor.  Good guy.  He had returned to the States a few months before she and I hooked up.  She took my advice, ended up marrying the guy and made good her escape.  Last I heard, they had two kids and were living in South America, where he had another agricultural gig.