Tag Archives: hobbies

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Fibbing Friday #310

Pensitivity101 was recycling her questions from July 2021, last week. What did I make of these? But I repeat myself.

1. What is a skiff?

It’s what I – and a bunch of other old geezers – have left on the top of our heads.  First it turned white from fright.  Now it’s leaving me faster than my schoolmates, on the obituary page.

2. What is a liner?

That’s the magic potion that’s mentioned in the online advert that says, Ladies, if you are over 40, this is the cosmetic that you should use, to draw attention away from the fact that you have the skin tone of a Sultana raisin.

3. What is a ferry?

It’s one of those self-deluded psychotics who dress up in fuzzy costumes, and believe that their ‘spirit animal’ is Fawzi Bear.

4. What is a destroyer?

A toddler on a mission to play with every toy (and non-toy) in the house!

5. What is a cruiser?

He’s a handsome, dashing young fellow who provides assistance and crowd control at roller-skating rinks..  Now that it’s making a comeback – at least in my area – I may have a new hobby/part—time job, in my retirement.  I’ll discuss it with my therapist.

6. What is a galleon?

It is the amount of gasoline/petrol that you get at the pumps these days for Antonio’s my pound of flesh.

7. What is a pedlow?

The name of Jeffrey Epstein’s estate, on his getaway island.

8. What is a kayak?

An indecisive ditherer, who is not sure if they are coming or going.

9. What is a schooner?

A glass tanker tankard of rich, October ale, that sails down the pub bar-top, and docks in front of me.

10. What is a coracle?

A method of birth-control used by Eskimos.  I just use my looks and personality.

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’25 A To Z Challenge – S

It’s tough, sittin’ around doin’ nuthin.  You’re never sure when you’re finished.

While you’re sitting around on your assets, not doing much, here are a couple of words about not doing much, for you to study.  Scrim is a piece of loose-weave cloth, used in theaters to either create the illusion of solidity, or of haziness, depending on the lighting.  Therefore….

SCRIMSHANK

1885/90 British slang, origin uncertain
to avoid one’s obligations or share of work, especially in the military; shirk.
American: to goldbrick

And its cousin….

SCRIMSHAW

a carved or engraved article, especially of whale ivory, whalebone, walrus tusks, or the like, made by whalers as a leisure occupation.
The act of doing so

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This is MY definition of ‘Griffonage.’

Thanx for stopping by and reading this post, which my friend Eric Idle helped me compose.

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Happy Birthday House – But Not Doctor

I want to wish a Happy 175th Birthday to the stuccoed, frame building that I was born in – before the advent of hospitals.  At about 2:00 AM, Thursday Sept. 21/1944, my Mother gave birth to me in the front (North) East bedroom.  We were given care and support by my Grandmother, and two aunts – and the house was already old, then.

The above number is an educated guess.  We had tax receipts from 1848, which read, Barn and sheds, and from 1852, which read, House and sheds.  Sometime in those four years, the barn was torn down, and the house erected.  1850, and 175 years old seems a reasonable assumption.  It may be the oldest, surviving building in the town.  It has endured a lot of modification.  It sat on the flatlands, up the hill from the lake, about half a mile from the commercial area

It was constructed by – or for – a well-to-do, gentleman farmer.  The rooms had towering, 12-foot ceilings, barely kept warm in the beginning by two pot-bellied stoves.  It was a bitch to heat, even after my Father added a forced-air gas furnace.  Room by room, year by year, he and a local handyman put in false ceilings, down to the tops of the windows – which were only 8’ 6”.  The steep stairway to the loft area was more like a ladder.

With apparent income from other sources, this was just a hobby farm for the first owner.  The property comprised a quarter of a square city block.  He had a few apple trees, some pear trees, some grapes, a small bed of asparagus, and room for plots of potatoes, peas, beans, carrots, and beets.  The three-foot thick fieldstone foundation was fabricated from rocks that were pulled from the soil, and support beams were Mountain Ash trees cleared from the property.

Reconstruction continues.  The current, long-term owner has added a dormer window, and finished living area in the loft at the top of The Stairs of Doom.  She’s a tired, but still impressive, old dowager.  I fondly remember her occasionally, but, except for possibly one last, quick, look; I don’t want to go back.

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Money For Nothing – And The Kicks For Free

Sticking my nose into other people’s business became profitable again; not Retire To The Riviera profitable, more like a hot chocolate and apple fritter at Tim Horton’s.

I stopped at a local grocery for chocolate milk.  As I do every time, I checked out the coin-counting machine on my way out.  I don’t know why anyone would use these things.  The percentage rate of payout is lower than most casinos, without the excitement of the bells and lights.

I leaned over and inspected the overflow chute, and was rewarded with the gleam of coins – two handfuls – half a shirt-pocketful.

As always, I waited till I got home to count the loot – $9.80, plus a couple of minor treasures.  4 Toonies = $8, plus a bunch of quarters, dimes, and nickels.  One dime was pre-1965 silver, worth three times its face value.  The rest filled my dime bank, to produce a roll that I will deposit in a bank account that I had hoped would help finance a trip to visit John Erickson, but which Trump et al’s insanity is making less and less likely.

The other prize was what probably caused the log-jam – an 1870 Canadian, silver, five-cent coin, as thin as a dime, and about half the surface area.  In 1922 it grew to its current size, and it was called a nickel, because it was made of nickel,  Other than the Copperpenny – a local band who had a couple of hits, riding on the British invasion – this was the first Canadian coin that was not made of silver.  Surprisingly, my coin is not terribly rare, and is only worth about $2, but my little Silver Surfer is mounted and placed in my coin catalog.  

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Some Words About Fibbing Friday

Pensitivity101 had more words from Archon’s Den last week. How would you define these?

1. Vemödalen

The hobby of assembling plastic car or airplane kits

2. Anecdoche

This is when you compulsively – and often unwanted – share vignettes of your life that you hope others will find interesting.  See: Blogging

3. Ellipsism

It’s a redneck compulsion to attend or watch multiple NASCAR races.

4. Kuebiko

Any one of a paddock full of rental electric bicycles popping up at every main intersection in town. The vehicles, and the electronic internet rental systems, are so technologically advanced that you can’t ride one unless your blood type is 10011010 Positive.

5. Lachesism

Milk and dairy product allergies, caused by lactose intolerance.  It occurs most often in mountainous areas, where cows are not common.  In northern Italy and Switzerland, it’s the leading cause of yodeling.

6. Exulansis

It’s the feeling of relief and joy, when you not only TGIF, but it’s a Bank Holiday long weekend.

7. Adronitis

This is the confusion and disappointment that guys who only think that they’re good-looking suffer, when women who really are good-looking aren’t interested in them.

8. Onism

That’s the ego-boosting course that some women take, to become Karens.

9. Altschmerz

It’s the Swedish name for the Lingonberry jam that’s served in IKEA food courts.

10. Occhiolism

That’s when drunkaholics become addicted to Polish plum brandy.

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Smitty’s Loose Change #25

Is religion/Christianity dangerous?

A quote, for contemplation:
Out of the blue, my mother just said, “The government should just round up all the Atheists, and either force them to convert to Christianity, or execute them!”

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I sometimes see a little 15-second PSA about cancer.  The title, in the middle of the screen reads, “I’m here because we caught it early.”  At the bottom of the screen, the ‘closed captioning’ reads, (Title) I’m here because we caught it early.  More Canadian Government money well-spent.  😮

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A wise man was asked, “What is poison?”
Anything beyond what we need is poison, whether food, power, laziness, ego, ambition, vanity, fear, anger, or whatever.

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What’s you favorite thing to cook?
The books.

Describe your most perfect day, from beginning to end.
I wake up, all warm and comfortable, in bed,,,,, and stay there.  The end!

Are you superstitious?
No!  I’m a Virgo, and us Virgos are skeptical and don’t believe in that stuff.

How would you improve your community?
By moving out – but this is where my stubborn supplier lives.

What gives your life direction?
One-Way/Do Not Enter signs – and the wife.

What sacrifices have you made in life?
Well,,,, There were those two Jehovah’s Witnesses in ’08, but there were no other witnesses, so I got away with it.

What job would you do for free?
As Richard Dawkins once said, “What an incredibly stupid question!”  If I like it enough to do it for free, it’s my hobby, and I’ll do it at home.  If I do it for a corporation, and someone gains a financial increase because of it – you better know that I’m going to want my fair share!

Do you practice religion?
No, I finally got it perfect, and no longer have to practice.

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Over a week, I had seen about a hundred of the exact same blogpost.  The blogger was publishing them about every 15 minutes during waking hours.  The title was “At The Hypnotist’s.”  The text consisted of just, “A hypnotist tricks his patients.”  Below that was a link to “Read more here.”  I finally commented, “Does this – and all the others – have any meaning or function??! And NO, I’m not going to go to clickbait.com to find out.  😕
Haven’t seen it since.

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If God was allowed in schools, these shootings wouldn’t happen.
But He’s allowed in churches, so how come He doesn’t prevent priests from molesting young boys??

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Fishing For One-Liners

I’m not a catch….
….I’m a catch and release.

Give me ambiguity, or….
….give me something else.

I was a real dude before I got married….
….Now I’m subdued.

I was attacked by a herd of cows….
….I’m okay.  I was just grazed.

Tried to come up with a carpentry pun that woodwork….
….Think I nailed it.

Smile….
….It irritates the Hell out of people who want to destroy you.

Zombies….
….hate fast food.

You look like….
….I need another drink.

Remember when I asked for your opinion?….
….Yeah, me neither.

By the time I get used to how old I am….
….I’m ten years older than that.

Do I put down my age in Earth years….
….or joint pain?

I’m not saying I’m old, but….
….I just had to increase my font size to “Billboard.”

Three Senators walked into a bar….
….and nothing happened.  Ever!

Retirement….
….The staycation to end all staycations.

People who know the least….
….always seem to know it the loudest.

Give me coffee to change the things I can….
….and wine to accept those that I can’t.

Don’t play poker with an origami expert….
….All they do is fold.

Nowadays, the problem with letting myself go….
….is getting myself back.

My momma didn’t raise no fool….
….but if she did, it was my brother

Never stop being a good person….
….because of bad people.

I hate peer pressure….
….and so should you.

If I was music….
….I’d be a single.

I’m havin’ a crappy day….
….Please send cute pics of your credit card.

It’s amazing how different booty calling….
….and butt dialing are.

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I just read on MSNBC that actor, Jeremy Renner had been seriously injured in a snowplough accident.  Thousands of Americans are now confused.  What the Hell is a snowplug, and how do you get hurt by one??  PLOUGH??!  On MSNBC??!  Who do they think they are?  The BBC?  😕

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Vulcan At The Forge

Gods

My friend BrainRants is paving his back yard with beer cans.

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Actually, he’s only paving a 20 foot diameter fire pit – less the 5 foot diameter central concrete burn area, and he’s using more than just beer cans – but it makes a great story.

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I don’t want to use the word ‘unusual,’ because many may read it and think strange, or weird.  It’s not strange or weird (or maybe that’s just me), it’s just uncommon.  He melts aluminum down in a homemade furnace, and casts 6 inch hexagons.  His input may include discarded patio tables, or salvaged broken storm doors.  Cans often include soft-drinks, but beer cans comprise the bulk of the base stock.  14 cases of mixed cans produce 10 of these tiles.

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He built his own little furnace, in a 5-gallon metal pail, using special, high-heat concrete and chicken wire for support.  He also poured a concrete lid with a breather hole and handles.  A purchased propane burner is inserted through a hole in the side to provide the heat, and crucibles, purchased online, contain the molten aluminum.

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He made his own wooden hex replica, and uses it to form wet-sand moulds, into which he pours the hot metal.  This project is nearly complete.  He had 820 hexes when I arrived, including a few bronze ones, and I helped him by staying safely out of his way, drinking beer, while he poured his self-imposed weekly quota of another 20, over two days.

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Here is Vulcan, beginning to pour 5 tiles.

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He’s getting closer, and that stuff is HOT!  Stand well back.  All of this was done in a garage, on a hot, muggy DC August day.  I can think of no better excuse for a couple of cold beers….and another to celebrate a safe, successful conclusion.

Dos Equis

 

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Coins Of The Realms

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My coin collection started innocently and modestly enough, with a few older Canadian coins. Then, as described in my ‘Penny, lira, etc.’ post, I was tricked into collecting foreign coins. Slowly but steadily, over the (many) years, I’ve added coins to both groups, till now I don’t count my coins, so much as weigh them occasionally.

I have almost 600 foreign coins, from over 100 countries around the world, some of which no longer exist, as well as numerous Canadian and American coins. The five binders shown above include Canadian and American coins, as well as bills, and total just over 47 pounds.  I store them on a closet shelf, next to the wall, directly over the support bracket, so as not to collapse it.

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Clamshell 2 x 2s come in various sizes, for various coins. They are folded over a coin and stapled shut on three sides, then the unit is inserted in a plastic sheet with 20 pockets.  Soon after I got started, I received some helpful tips from a couple of old collectors/dealers.

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I buy mounting sheets with reinforced holes, because the weight of 20 coins can tear unprotected sheets. If you’re collecting sequentially dated coins, and one always follows the next, they are inserted into the sheets and forever remain there.

If I get another Spanish coin, I might need to now give Portuguese coins their own page for enough room. My coins can move around.  One dealer advised me to trim the bottom corners of the 2 X 2s at 45°, so that they would slide into the tight pockets easier.  Clipped bottoms and unclipped tops seem ‘unfinished’ to me, so I trim all 4 corners, creating little square ‘malls’ among the coins on the sheet.

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Staples holding the 2 X 2s closed, protrude in small bulges at the back, causing an already bulky assembly to take up even more room. I have a special pair of pliers, with which I crimp them flat, ensuring smoother insertion and retraction, and less volume.

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The arrangement of my foreign coins in my catalogs resembles a giant M on a world map.  They start at the bottom of South America, work their way up past Panama and the Caribbean, and throw a quick wave at the USA and Canada with a couple of odd/special coins.

They cross the Atlantic, through England, Ireland, Scotland and the Channel Islands, and work their way across Europe. They then dodge the rocket attacks in the Middle East and flow down the body of Africa.  Returning, they trudge eastward through Russia and China, and down through South-East Asia, to Australia and New Zealand.

My foreign coins have taught me much about geography and history. Separate regions are arbitrarily jammed together to form the likes of Czechoslovakia.  Countries are split apart, like Germany, or India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.  World economy, and that of individual countries, changes coins from gold and silver, to brass, steel, nickel and copper, all the way down to aluminum.

My little digital camera will not take good photos of individual coins, but I have some bright, flamboyant foreign bills/notes I hope to show you later. To some of you, these are not ‘foreign’, but merely coins of your realm.

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April Challenge – B

April Challenge

This blog-post is brought to you by the number 3.1415926, and the letter B.

Letter B

Basement; a story of a building, partly or wholly underground.

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When they were first married, they were madly in love, always together. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other, joined at the hip – frequently. Went everywhere together.

He had to go to work to support his wife, and soon, their children. She became a housekeeper, remaining at home, to cook and clean, and raise the kids.  Still, they loved each other, and often expressed it – a quick kiss or a pat on the bum.

His career progressed. He worked longer hours and had to take courses.  When she wasn’t tied up with the kids, she got to coffee-klatch with other neighborhood wives, but they always made time for each other.

While they still liked each other greatly, and showed it, they found that they had different interests. He took up golf; she joined a bowling league.  He read only best-sellers and wondered what she got from the Historical Romance novels she read.  Still, there were the pecks on the cheek, and the rubbing of a forearm.

His job required him to travel occasionally. When he was out of town, she took the opportunity to visit a sister he considered a loud-mouthed trouble-maker.  When he returned home, they had little of interest to discuss with each other.

She moved into one of the children’s abandoned bedrooms, because ‘he snored.’ He might not snore if she didn’t stay awake all night, reading.

With the kids married, or off at college, organized evening meals became infrequent. One or the other might make food for them both, but it was seldom eaten together at the table.  She lounged in her bed and watched Downton Abbey.  He rocked back in the rec-room recliner and watched baseball or football.

One day he realized that they hadn’t spoken a word to each other in days – and he didn’t worry about it. They were down to having corridor sex.  If they met in the hallway, she would hiss, “Fuck you!”  He would reply, “Screw you, Bitch.”  Life had become an armed truce.

He realized that living together – separately, was better than splitting up. His benefits package covered her.  They only had one cable TV bill, one phone bill, one Internet provider.  The mortgage was retired, so neither would have to rent an apartment.

One day though, she gravely approached him, and told him that she wanted her space – without him in it. Somewhat sadly, he signed the divorce papers, and made arrangements to sell off the house and contents.  That was how he had come to be living in this basement, bachelor apartment.