At The End Of The Rainbow

In getting back to you regarding last weeks mushroom recon at the cabin, I'm sad to report we saw no sign what-so-ever of any morel mushrooms. I'm beginning to think it's all just a bunch of Missouri folklore--like the catfish below Bagnell Dam that are big enough to swallow a full sized man. I must admit, however, that Max and I didn't spend a lot of time looking for them. It was hot and dry and probably not the best time for a couple of individuals as hot natured as Max and myself to be traipsing around the woods. 

According to reports coming in from Moniteau and Cole County, Missouri (or County Moniteau and County Cole, as my Irish relation would say) the "shrooms" are just about everywhere. Mom tells me  they're of nearly record breaking proportions! She said my "Almost Uncle Tom" has been tripping around his Missouri River Bottom farm in rural Osage County, hunting down the darn things and based on what her little sister Dee Dee's been telling her, he's going to have to buy another new truck just to haul the darn things around. Also, Aunt Dee Dee may have to quit her job of accessing everyone's property way too high so she can focus her full-time energies on frying up all those mushrooms. Between the mushrooms Tom keeps finding and all the record breaking flat head catfish cousin Dustin keeps hauling out of the Moreau River (a sub basin of the Missouri River), someone's going to have to open up a doggone restaurant just to keep all the wild harvested stuff from going bad. If they do, I think they should consider calling it "The Wild Missouri" or "The Missouri Outback". I'm confident my Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa Johannes "Old John" Rohrbach would have been proud!

Last night Klietus and I took a late evening trip to the cabin to see how the oak trees are coming along. The darn things grow so slow, you can barely see a difference from one day to the next. They are back in bloom though and spreading their pollen like it's going out of style. We discovered an old walnut tree just down the hill and east of the cabin that's substantially on the downhill slide. We made plans to harvest it before it deteriorates beyond use. I probably wouldn't consider cutting down a good walnut tree if it was still healthy, but this one is in rough shape. We'll actually be doing the trees around it a favor by opening up a little more breathing room. While Klietus is making plans to convert the walnut wood into something useful, I'll try to keep you posted on the tree caper as it develops.

I almost forgot: as we drove up our country drive and the cabin came into view, we were pleasantly surprised to see a double rainbow that from our angle appeared to terminate nearly right on top the cabin! We quickly got our hopes up of finally finding that darn pot of gold we'd been hearing about since the 1st grade. But, as our rural luck would have it, we sped around the corner only to find ourselves somewhat disappointed to discover the end was actually way up over the top of the far hill. We discussed our various options, but decided neither of us actually had the energy to climb all the way up and down those hills in search of the gold. Even if we would have found it we would've just had to haul it all the way back to the truck. And when you take into account that the spot price of gold seems to be stuck around $1297 an ounce (as of the time of this post), Kleit offered it would make more sense to wait for the price to at least get back up over $1300. With that in mind, we just sipped a couple of cold beers on the cabin deck and decided we'd probably be better off to go into the Whiskey making business instead of gold mining. We hear all you need is a bag of corn, a little sugar and an old oak barrel and you're on your way. Klietus actually did a little research not long ago (which I thought showed awfully good initiative on his part) and found out that of the 50 states, Missouri has the most accommodative liquor laws. According to Kliet, it's perfectly legal and acceptable to the Missouri authorities for a person to brew up to 100 gallons of spirits per person per year as long as it's for personal consumption and not for sale (I'll have to get busy because I don't think I'm quite ready for that much personal consumption-Kiet said he'd be willing to give it a shot, but couldn't promise anything). It would actually be more convenient to start up our distilling operation in Arkansas, but all things considered, we decided to make Missouri our "World Headquarters". Also, because Kliet had shown so much initiative in his research program, I officially appointed him "Head Brewmaster" of "The Micro Batch Spirit Co.". He seemed pretty enthused about his new responsibilities and I think he'll do just fine. It may turn out that we found that doggone pot of gold after-all!

~Max roots under the rainbow

~About 7 p.m. April 28, 2014...County Barry, Missouri

One Of These Days

~An old barn off Arkansas State Highway 127, not too far from Metropolitan Clifty, Arkansas

 If you like old buildings and structures, it's hard to beat an old barn. Old barns are scattered all over the country side and if you can take your eyes off your smart phone long enough while driving around, you'll probably notice some old barns you didn't even know were there. "One of these days" I'm going to load up Sue and Old Max in the truck and take them on a road trip for the expressed purpose of looking for old barns and then taking pictures of them. When we get back home, I'm going to arrange the pictures in some random but well thought out order (I know that doesn't make sense-maybe I should have said I'll arrange them in an order that appears random) and fire them off to the folks at Apple so they can put them in a book. I'll probably call it my "Barn Book" or perhaps my "Book of Barns". I'll leave my Barn Book lying around the house in a random but well thought out locality so our visitors will be sure to see it. Then, when someone runs across my Barn Book for the first time, they'll say something like, "Hey, this is really cool: where'd you get it?". I'll likely respond by telling them the story about how Sue, Max, and I took a cross country road trip (or at least drove around Benton County, Arkansas) searching for cool old barns to take pictures of. If they ask why I did this, I'll tell them because a few years ago I decided that when I catch myself saying I'm going to do something "one of these days", I just go do it.

Old barns...you cain't hardly go no better!

Big Fireplaces....and Santa Claus

~The fireplace at Old Faithful Inn (finished in 1904)

I like big fireplaces: fireplaces big enough to hold wood 3 feet long. I like a fireplace that's large enough to hold wood big enough to be referred to as a "log". A big stone fireplace that brings true meaning to the old phrase, "put another log one the fire"!

The last time Sue and I were in Yellow Stone National Park, we visited Old Faithful Inn. I asked her to stand next to the fireplace in the main hall to add perspective (perspective on the fireplace-not on Sue). This is the kind of fireplace I like.

If we ever build another house, I plan to design the fireplace first and then design the home around the fireplace, and I mean that literally. In my experience it's difficult to have a better time inside a house, cabin, or lodge than the time spent in front of a roaring fireplace. I like hearing the crackling of the fire and watching the dancing flames as they work to increase the size of the coal bed, while feeling it's warmth.

Now, lest you get the wrong idea, I'm not a pyromaniac. I don't get a thrill out of setting something on fire and watching it burn for kicks. I just like fireplaces and camp fires. Now that it's spring, however, I suppose I should get off the subject of fireplaces. Soon, it will be more appropriate in these neck of the woods to write about sitting around a huge block of ice. A block of ice big enough for at least 3 people to sit on and big enough to cool a decent sized house and.....well, you get the picture.

Post Script: I want a fireplace large enough so when our grandkids ask, "Papa, how does Santa Clause fit down that little hole?", I don't have to lie to them by responding,
"Well Olivia and Morris, Santa Claus is MAAAAAGIC"!

Emily Jo and Maxie Pad

Labrador Retrievers must surely be one of the very kindest breeds of K9 on the planet: they just want to be around people. They love being petted, but even when they're not being petted they seem content to just be somewhere around you. Our old friend Max is one of those dogs who lives to be around folks. His favorite thing to do in addition to riding around in the "Max Mobile" and chasing squirrels, is hanging out with folks.

These pictures were taken a few years ago when our niece Emily Jo was visiting from St. Louis. She's nearly all grown up now and in the 9th grade. While Emily Jo has been busy in school, Max has been spending most of his time aging gracefully and barking at the bovine when he gets a chance. He'll have a chance to do some barking later this morning when we drive out to the cabin to get a wrench for a log home client and check on the grass/weeds around the cabin to see if they need whacking for the first time this Spring. While there, I plan to run mushroom recon while Max roots and sniffs: I'll report back on our findings.

Emily Jo, Max would love another visit before you're further grown up and in high school. He's afraid that once you're in the 10th grade, you'll no longer be interested in hanging out with old dogs. Apparently, he and I have the same foreboding.

Teachers Don't Always Tell The Truth

I hate to accuse anyone of being a liar, but, if you attended grade school in America in the 1960's, one or more of your teachers likely lied to you...at least one time. Specifically, if like the kids I grew up with in Rolla, they told you that it was "i before e except after c", then there's your proof. Had these (otherwise fine) teachers, never heard of the words weird, sleigh and dreidel? Obviously, what they should have taught us was, "i before e except after c, d, s and w". C'mon man!

Red Oak and Western Red Cedar Trees

~The authors foot on a hallowed-out Missouri red oak round

Beetles, ants, and other assorted boring critters need a place to live too, I suppose. You'd be hard pressed in the hardwoods of Missouri and Arkansas to find a mature red oak tree that hasn't at least been started on by a band of beetles or ants. Often times when you see an oak tree that's blown down, it's because the center of the tree has been bored out by one species or other of insects. In my experience it's pretty out of the ordinary to find a white oak tree that's met it's demise at the hands of boring insects, unlike it's cousin red.

On the contrary, you'll rarely if ever find a western red cedar tree that's been bored into, much less gutted by boring insects. The one exception is the big Ol' bumble bees we have all over most of the lower 48. They will from time to time bore a small hole into cedar and redwood. You'll typically find these vertical holes on the underside of a log or board and they usually go into the wood maybe 2-4". They don't do any structural damage and unless you make a point to look for them, you likely won't even notice they're there. We have a handful of these bee holes on a few of our house logs, but it's only a few and that's after 11 years of our cabin sitting out essentially in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by 10,000 acres of the Mark Twain National Forest. Granted, I'm not a tree or wood expert: I actually only know what I've witnessed and have experienced first hand the past number of years. I do, however, know that western red cedar trees are far less prone to fall victim to the various and nefarious marauding wood eaters. I've been told and read that the natural oils contained in cedar aren't very appetizing to ants, boring beetles, terminates and the like, and this makes some sense to me. There has to be something inherent to the cedar species that keeps them mostly safe from becoming food and shelter for the various species of destructive insects.

If I run across a western red cedar tree that looks like the red oak I have my foot on in the above photo, I'll take a picture of it and report back on this site. Until then, these hollowed out red oak rounds do make nice flower planters. I suppose one could also find a bowl of some sort that fits inside the hollow and use it as a bird bath or a dog dish. If nothing else, you could split the round a few times with your Swedish hand made Gransfors Bruks axe or splitting mall (I have both and highly recommend you consider getting one or perhaps both of these fine cutting tools for your very own, if you're a wood-hound like myself) and use the remains for fire wood. These hollowed out rounds do make great fire wood!

This Old Log Cabin

I find something endearing about an uncomplicated and aged structure like this one. In the same way, I'm drawn to stone buildings of modest character and with an overall appearance that only comes naturally with time. I can't quite put my finger on why I like these old buildings, I just know I do.

About four years ago I was visiting a potential log home client a few miles west of St. Louis, Missouri, off Highway 100. After crossing a low water bridge and driving a short distance off the main road, we turned up a fairly long drive before coming to a stop at a nice older home that had been built onto and renovated a time or two over the years. As we climbed out of the car, I noticed what appeared to be an old barn or shed of some sort in back of the main house. I was immediately drawn to it and quickly decided it was picture worthy. Upon closer examination I saw that part of the structure was made with very old hand hewn timbers: a log building technic typically referred to as Appalachian style that was widely used by our fore fathers as they settled and homesteaded the eastern and middle portion of our country.

I didn't think much more about the old house/barn/shed until I ran across this picture yesterday while deep in the recesses of my iPhoto stash, and decided to share it with you.
If I remember correctly, the original log portion of this cabin was relocated a number of years ago to where it now stands and then added on to by the current home owners. I could be off a little on that detail, but I believe that was the story. One thing is for sure however: this structure has been around a while and appears to be holding up rather nicely. Like a good woman or a fine wine, log homes seem to improve with each passing day. Some day years from now, someone may take a picture of our little Missouri log cabin and wonder about it's origin. Maybe they'll run across an old picture of Max E. Pad and wonder whether or not he was a blue ribbon winner or just a participant. I bet he leaves them guessing.

~Max and his friend Klietus enjoy a fireside beverage

Incorrigible K9

~Maximus Everett Padfoot

Max is a rough and tumble K9. He's not afraid of anything, except thunder storms and gun fire. He loves to chase squirrels, mice, chipmunks, birds and about anything that scurries along the ground. He's never seen a rabbit as far as I know, but if he ever did I know he'd chase the snot out of it.

When I took this picture of Max last Summer, he was agreeable enough to pose for the shot. I doubt if he realized the juxtaposition of himself and the purple flowers and if he had he likely would have gotten up an milled around in an effort to stay out of this picture. I guess it's safe to say I pulled one over on him.

If you're considering becoming a first time dog owner, I'd recommend NOT starting with a puppy, unless you have several hours a day to devote to their upbringing. Puppies are great for about 15 minutes until they pee on your rug and chew up one of your favorite shoes. It's down hill from there for about the next one to two years or so. We got Ol' Max when he was 4 years old from some folks who thought he was just too rambunctious to keep locked up in the backyard. It only took a few days of him living in our house and being around people to settle down and act like a regular dog. Since then, he's been about the best dog anyone could ever hope to have. For the most part, the only annoying thing he does is bark at cows. Apparently, there's something about the bovine Max finds annoying or maybe he finds them appealing. I guess I'll never know for sure, just like Max will never know for sure I put this picture out for the world to see. If he did, he might not want to ride around with me so much in the Max-Mobile when he thinks I'm going somewhere fun. Then again, he might appreciate the attention and notoriety--he is after all somewhat incorrigible!

 

Hall of Fame

~Now, now fellas....don't go gettin' all "Hey there little lady" on me: she's all mine!

Dreaming of Summer? There's no better time for sitting outside with your favorite little sweet heart while enjoying a nice local brew or 3 and maybe a lemon drop martini. Of course, a cool glass of just about anything that makes your top 10 list of favorite adult beverages will suffice in this environment.

A couple of our favorite places to relax outside can be found in St. Louis's Central West End, not much more than a stones throw from Cardinal Stadium and The National Bowling Hall of Fame. We've done a number of Cardinal games over the years, but so far The Bowling Hall of Fame remains a line item on our bucket list.
Maybe we'll make a point of doing that this Summer. The only famous bowler that comes to my mind is Dick Weber. I'm not sure why, but Mr. Weber is the only famous bowler I can think of off hand.
I wonder if there's a hall of fame for real good wood splitters? If so, I'm going to be pretty darn pumped: I may have a chance of getting at least an honorable mention in that category!

The Scott "Kitchen"

~The Scott "Kitchen" Summer 2008

When I first met Harry Scott, this was the only building on his Little Red River property. He later built on to it, turning it into a very nice building with a huge stone fireplace and a nice comfortable living room. He affectionately referred to it as "The Kitchen", which at the time of this picture is essentially what it was.

On this particular day, Harry was entertaining a few of his local friends-that's Harry behind the bar. He told me people would often pull their boats up to his dock, walk up with money in hand and ask if they could get a cold beer. He said that on more than one occasion they'd say, "Can I see a menu", thinking his place was a river-side restaurant...then he'd just laugh. He said he was going to have to put up a big sign so folks would know it was private property.

Big dreams often times start small, but Harry knew when he purchased this property his plan was to build a spectacular log home on it: and that's what he did. He started small, but over time ended up building his dream log home.

Harry Scott, you were a character my friend. It was a pleasure and an honor to have known you!

K1's to K9's

~Douglas

 Every kid should get to have at least one dog while they're growing up. Over the years, books too numerous to mention have been written about dogs and their many virtues: I won't try to compete. But it's just too tempting to not share some pictures of a few of the k9's that occupy space in the lives of my immediate family. Absent here are pictures of Lola and Mr. Doakes: perhaps I'll follow up with them in a future post.

If you're thinking about improving on some of the company you've been keeping lately, consider a trip to your local humane society. But don't go if your intention is to "just look around", especially if puppies are involved. Saying you're going to the Humane Society to just "look" at some puppies, is like saying you're going to Krispy Cream to just "look" at some donuts...it's likely not going to happen.

K9's....you kain't go no better!

~Pioneer Log Dog, Maximus Everett Padfoot (or just Max E. Pad as he prefers to be called)

~Stinger napping with one of their 3 K9's, Patty Cakes

~Douglas with his favorite human, Olivia 

~Ridiculous? You be the judge. 

~"This is humiliating: I wonder how he'd like it if I put a dog dish on his head, said 'Stay-stay-staaaaay' and took a picture so I could show IT to the stinking world!"

~"Why is no one rubbing my head?"

"Oooooh...now that even smells better than butt!"

Lost In Translation

Personally, I like straightforward communication. I like knowing what is expected of me and I like others to know what I expect from them. I don't always do well in this area, although it is always my intention to be straightforward and unambiguous--especially in business.

I recently hired a carpenter crew to do some relatively miner remodeling work on our house that involved 3 different components. After the guys had applied their trade, the resulting work was below my expectations and resulted in me asking them to fix and fine tune their initial work on all 3 individual projects.
Later, it occurred to me that over the course of my adult life this type occurrence has happened with frequency, especially when it involves hiring a trades-person. As a result and after a fair amount of pondering, I came to the realization that the root problem might actually lie with me. Is that even possible....me: a former "big bidness man"?

Well, just in case, going forward I'm going to be much more deliberate in my communication; especially when it involves hiring an individual or individuals to do work for me. My objective will be to, upfront, make my expectations as crystal clear as I'm capable of, regarding the scope and quality of work. Anything less, more times than not winds up with someone being disappointed, and I don't want that for anyone.

Crystal, crystal clear: now I like the sounds of that!