Only in America

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A Blast From My Past

Google Earth is one of those programs that I love to piddle around in, whenever I remember it is there. Yesterday was one of those days. I updated it - there are always updates - and then typed in the address of the place I grew up. The expected satellite images did not show up. Just a plain background with an overlay of the streets. I was thinkin, "this sucks, now how do i get the images back", when I noticed a blue dot, and a YouTube logo directly over the location where my paternal grandmother and grandfather lived, until they needed an earthly home no more. They lived on the street above us, the corner. I could see their house from mine, and get there in a couple of minutes by cuttin uphill, across the backyards. I'm from a generation that grew up on their bicycles. We rode them everywhere, in all kinds of weather, by ourselves or in packs. This was also the era of the neighborhood store. Usually run by an older woman, who lived above the store, or just next door. We had both kinds. Both were located a couple of blocks down the hill, at either end of our street. We patronized both of them, with their old-timey candy counters, full of 2, 3 and 5 for a penny tooth decay facilitators. And of course, bicycle was the way we got there. Down was a breeze, but back up helped us work up an appetite for our brown paper sacks of candy. We didn't think anything of it. Every day, this was the route we took to get home from school. And, oh yeah, we walked. Didn't matter if it was cold, snowing, or raining, it's just how it was. As a matter of fact, it was more fun if the weather was doin something. But forgive my rambling. Back to the reason for this post. I clicked on the blue dot over MeMo's house. The picture was taken from the corner of her lot, just beside her driveway!! I lived the next block down, two houses past the last one showin on the right. You can see all the way down Rock street to where it turns at a 90 degree angle, to begin the final descent to the Potomac. Here is the picture and here is the link to the panoramio page with more info.



Here is pic lookin up the hill, 3 streets down, and a link to it's page.



Makes me wanna go home sooo bad. And now for the piece de resistance. The YouTube video. These folks are competing in the SavageMan Triathlon. They are using the switchback method of pedaling, which came to us kids naturally. They are havin a hard time after training, and on professional bikes. We did it with a sack of candy gripped to the handlebars, on schwinn's and spider bikes, with no gears. Right before they start the last block, where the road turns to mostly concrete, I can glimpse the top story of my old house on the far left. The brown rails at the top are at the edge of MeMo's driveway. When he swings around to face down hill, I can see my old bedroom window, on the far right, one street down. And I can't help but giggle as one of them crashes and burns across from my friend's house near the top. Believe it or not, coal trucks used to use this street. Sometime during the seventies, the town put up that silver guardrail, after a runaway. And one final thought. I bet I don't even have to tell you where we rode our sleds, do I?

Quick Change

Yesterday mornin was sunny and hot. Yesterday afternoon was another story. The light from the sky changed and the wind began to pick up. I grabbed the camera and went outside. The camera is a good excuse to be standin outside watchin the summer storms blow in. This one arrived courtesy of a 22 mile an hour wind. The temperature dropped from 91 to 75 in 30 minutes. Across the river, in Illinois, they got 4 inches of rain in a very short time. It also rained like a cow pissin on a flat rock in paducah (30 miles up the road). We were lucky enough just to get the cooler air. These three pics were taken within a three minute time span. Checked the details on the digital cam, to make sure. Nature is really cool, both literally and figuratively, sometimes.

A Few Pics

The first two I took on the way in to the Dollar General (how we ever got along without it, I don't know, lol). It's not uncommon for me to be able to make the 12 mile drive without meeting another vehicle. If the mood strikes to stop in the road and snap a pic, I have no fear of disrupting the flow of traffic.





The next few are of a time honored summer tradition that we have in common with some members of the animal kingdom--let's go swimmin! These are this year's young geese. There are adults scattered through to supervise, of course, but most of these younguns cannot fly well, if at all. You can see that their wings don't have adult plumage yet, so they are not strong enough to get them airborne. I encountered them yesterday evening on a cruise through the game reserve. They were crossing from the water on one side of the road to the other. You can tell they weren't real worried about my presence.

Gifts from the Grandfathers

Yesterday was a gift of a day. Went catfishing in the Ohio, and caught a few. Got home in time to see Jr. end his 76 race losing streak. After we dropped the grandson off, we decided to swing through the bottoms, and check out one of our favorite artifact hunting grounds. It was about 7 p.m. when we parked the truck. It was hot and muggy and not a breath of wind stirring. The moon was already up, even though it wasn't close to getting dark. The deep thrumming of a tow making it's way upriver was the only man-made noise to be heard. We set out for a spot about a third of the way down the huge field, and intended to turn around and search back to the truck more slowly. On the way there, though, I found a perfect thumb scraper. Made it worth it to me right off. My companion told me I was going too slow. I told him to turn around and look back my way. The field was covered with lithic scatter, glinting in the slanting sunlight. He was not to be deterred, so we proceeded down the field. We turned back and began hunting slowly. Believe it or not, it is more difficult to hunt in a field with a lot of scatter, because you can't possibly turn up every piece. In a bit, a pic of the day's best finds. But first a report of my companion's uncanny luck when artifact hunting. We had made our way back to the area I wanted to hunt in the first place. I told him to look, that there was scatter in a wide spot of this part of the field. As soon as he headed off, he found the dark point in the photo, with just the tip gone. As he was walking toward me to show me the large scraper, I found the light gray point, with only about a third of the side of it exposed. Turned a good day into a great day.



We both feel honored when the grandfathers allow us to connect with them through things they left behind. We separate again, and in a couple of minutes I hear him say, "I don't know, this must be somethin modern..." and he heads over to me. I am the walkin, talkin, field guide on artifacts. He is the one who is shit-house lucky, and finds these things, and comes to me for the answers. He was holdin it up, but I could only see part of it. From the color and shape at a distance, I asked if it was plastic. By that time he had reached me and I could hear the unmistakable sound when he ran it across his teeth. He handed it to me, and I immediately recognized what it is. After a few good-natured comments on his aforementioned shit-house luck, I tell him what he has found. It is what remains of a bannerstone, made from blood quartz. It's called a butterfly bannerstone, rare for the shape, and rarer for the material from which it is made. Here is a close-up:



The bannerstone is translucent.



Often stones made from this material were completely finished, except for the drilling. Quartz and quartzite are extremely hard to drill. Especially considerin they did it with hollow river cane and grains of sand. On the inside of the hole you can see the lines left from the drilling. This pic is as good as I could get with the digital.



To think that we were the first folks to hold and admire this in 5000 years or so is truly a reverential feeling. It is a spiritual experience that is hard to describe. To think that the damage may have been done by modern day farming machinery, by uncaring folks is a whole nother kinda feeling, but I won't go into that. This was made by what I would consider a master craftsman, for someone of special status. There are various theories of the purpose of these artifacts and you can find them on the web. I just hope the Grandfathers are happy that is now in a place where it will be revered and honored, as I revere and honor them.

Knock On Wood...

Well, not really. It would not be a wise thing to do until you are sure this is not set. And for a rat, it would never be advisable. My last two posts have had subjects of stone, then metal. I decided to look for something made of wood, and here it is. I acquired this last year, when disassembling an 1870's farmhouse. Before we started with the tear-down, I poked through every nook and cranny, and even got down on my hands and knees to search up under the eaves in the attic, which is where this was discovered. It was not set, just shoved up under the eaves, where the roof met the attic floorboards. Doesn't appear to have ever dispatched a rat. That's not surprising, as we found no evidence of rodents taking up residence even though the house had not been lived in since the early 1970's. It has a kind of macabre attractiveness, does it not?



The manufacturer, Lovell Manufacturing Co. is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It's period of significance runs from 1850-1924. The site consists of 40 acres and 9 buildings. They manufactured a wide variety of household items over the years. I'm a bit perverse, so I proudly display this instrument of death standing upright, on top of my punched tin piesafe in the kitchen. You can go to the Patent Office page and search by patent number 1,726,195 and view the patent drawings, specifications, and more info than you ever wanted to know about this particular trap. The date on this version of the trap is August 27, 1929. Here is the link to the image file. If you can't view the images, click "help" and install alternatiff viewer. The internet is a marvelous thing.

The Rest Of The Story

Last night I went in search of an ashtray. I was looking for a small one to set on the foot of the bed, where I was sitting cross-legged half reading, half watching Corner Gas. I went into the dark kitchen, pulled out the storage (junk) drawer, and proceeded to dig to the bottom. I heard metal on metal, located the source, and drew this outta the drawer. So that's where this has been hiding! I knew it was here somewhere. This is yet another in my long line of favorite metal things. Don't know where I acquired this affinity for anything old and made of metal. Things made outta brass are probably my favorite category. There are no makers marks on this piece to help identify it or date it. Doesn't matter to me, I love it just the way it is. At first glance, it appears to be a well-done depiction of a soldier and a peasant lass out for a stroll. My guess would be German origin, because of the soldier's attire and mustache. The young lady's hair is gathered up on top of her head, her bodice has short, puffed sleeves, and she has her market basket on her arm. She has her hand up to her lips and is tilting her head in what appears to be maidenly modesty or shyness. A sentimental moment captured for all time. Ah, for the days of such innocence...



And now, for the rest of the story...



PRICELESS!