DIRECTION

This compass belonged to my adventuring uncle.

He moved from his home in small town North Dakota to the metropolis of San Francisco, California in the 1920's, I believe.

I know he lived in the heart of the city and worked as an accountant for the city water department.

Here's that serious young man, caught by a street photographer, back around 100 years ago.

It may have been that same artist who made a pastel sketch which hangs over my desk today.

Some time after Pearl Harbor he joined the army, though he was then in his early 40's, and spent his wartime years as a supply sergeant in Burma (now Myanmar) and India.

He was an award winning long distance swimmer and handball player in his Olympic Club, spent many happy years with a group of friends on overnight weekends on a beach while watching the nearby Golden Gate Bridge being built, once told me had swum in San Francisco Bay every day of at least one year, and enjoyed camping trips in Yosemite National Park, where he crested Mount Lyell.

 Yes, my uncle Zenas Taylor was an adventurous man.

But he always knew where he had come from and where he was going.

BUT IS IT ART?

I have written on this godforsaken blog many times about the BAD (Beautiful Artistic Daughter), formerly the BRD (Beautiful Rich Daughter), which she could return to if she'd ever sell any of her amazing art output.

But never mind that typical daddy growse.

What we have today is a confluence (wow, he used a big word!) of several thoughts.

One is the fact that I married into a very artistic family.

SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed), whose art you've occasionally seen here.

(She could do wonders with that big ol' black border wall!)

Then there's the BAD, who dabbles in genres on genres, and succeeds beautifully in all of them.

She has a brother who has a long career of doing beautiful cabinetry, kitchen work and makeovers.

(He has been hired to do several Ruth's Chris Restaurants around the country.)

There's another sister who lives far away but whose abilities at sketching at near lightning speed are legend.

There's a niece whose skills and beautiful creations as a tattoo artist have led her to fame, if not fortune.

So anyway, as you can see, there is art all around me.

So today I brought home from the grocery store a Butternut Squash and noting it's shape, I idly said to SWMBO that if one painted a pair of button eyes on it, it would pass for a shmoo.

If you're unfamiliar with a shmoo, it was a character created by the cartoonist Al Capp for his comic strip, Li'l Abner.

Behold!

Okay, if you've been following along I think you can see where I'm coming from.

Or going to.

Judy (SWMBO) took the bit in her teeth, or the marker in her hand, if you must insist on correctness here, and sought the Gods of Creation for advice.

One little warning: Halloween is approaching!

(I may never eat Butternut Squash again without feeling just a tad bit guilty.)

PAST PARTICLES

They aren't past particles as found in a physics textbok or as part of language in an English class.

What I'm referring to here are particles from my past office life.

For example, does anybody use paper clips anymore?

I have a plastic box full of them.

I used some the other day when I was sorting through some recipes, to keep each bunch in its proper category.

How about this?

Those evil looking jaws are designed to pull staples from paper that's been connected together without destroying the paper.

It works well, too.

(Pardon the beat up old desk top. It's a piece of junk but I suppose I could paint it some day.)

Speaking of evil looking devices, take a look at this one.

That's a letter opener and that pointed blade sticking out of the upper left is very sharp.

The device is resting on a cover for that end that protects the user who's searching for it in a dark desk drawer.

But turning back for a jiffy, I showed you a staple puller but does anyone under the age of 30 know what a staple or a stapler is?

Here's mine.

The staples were made by Stanley Bostitch but the stapler came from a different company.

There's a lot of history in these office tools but I was just wondering with the advent of computers and on-line document storage, if any of them are used anymore.

Letter writing, by the way, has been largely replaced by email and texting so that letter opener in my desk may gather more dust than this blog writer.

(Probably just as well, she said, as she wiped up the latest bloodstains!)

LIKE A PHOENIX RISING

The Legado housing and shopping complex is coming back from the dead.

A year and a half ago, it was about 50 percent complete.

Then in the dark of night an arsonist torched it.

Lost were 329 apartments under construction, commercial space and a parking garage.

It covered 700,000 square feet of property in the heart of my town.

The loss was estimated at 60 million dollars.

The site was leveled and cleaned up and earlier this year construction resumed on the rebuilding.

Here's what it looks like today.

The project will rise from oblivion.

The arsonist, believed to be a young man also connected with break-ins and damage at the local high school, has not been apprehended.

Yet.

FRIDAY EVENING

 

Anyone like pepperoni?

FRIDAY MORNING

Fresh Blueberry Muffins

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Well-oh-well, it's been a fairly good week here.

Oh, I had to turn on the furnace this morning when it was only 35 degrees outside and 68 in the house.

But it felt good after it ran for awhile.

And now that it's warmed up outside, it's stayed quiet so the electric bill isn't going out of sight yet.

We're full up on sweet stuff what with my baking the past few days and I'm going to pick up my grocery order in an hour or two.

So all is well.

And now I get to enjoy the fall season and all it brings, like pumpkin jokes.

Siss-boom-bah!

Now that I've punned you into a near coma, let me prescribe for you an adventurously advantageous weekend!

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . yes, once again, you rascal . . . )