Our flame burns ever hotter and tomatoes

Primarily because Jenny just set the toaster oven on fire. Facon (fake-bacon) and an overabundance of cooked and re-cooked and re-cooked crumbs apparently equals a hazardous situation.

She said, “Baby, there is a fire.”

And there was one. Puffing out smoke through the side gills of our once white toaster-cook all.

After a quick discussion I grabbed the fire extinguisher and opened the door long enough to blow the fire out (instantly) with a plume of super dust.

It was my first experience with the fire extinguisher. It was not foam.

Now our house smells like smoke, but our dinners were fine. We think.

The facon was not that fine. It was jet black with a hole in it. What is that stuff made of?

Also, I ate my first tomatoes this weekend. Seriously. Not tomato product or anything, but first actual toms. First, I had them on a gyro Friday night before we saw Harry Potter.

Then I had a cherry tomato from the garden, twice! They are explosive.

Zen moment -

Jenny finally saw the white squirrel while we were out for a jog.

Happy artist and bare feet

Just figured I’d post a couple stories I wrote this past week. Had fun writing a couple leads and what not.

‘Happy’ artist glad to be part of Grandview’s summer party

Jayne Akison’s work room at her home on Gladden Road in Grandview Heights is both bright and colorful, snug and happily cluttered.

One must watch their step as they navigate the paint-splashed cubby for fear of scuffing one of the many handmade and hand-painted clocks littered about the room. It’s a space her children — Evelyn, 10, and Nina, 5 — navigate with a comfortable abandon.

“People always tell me my art is very happy,” said Akison, smiling from behind her desk where she was putting the finishing touches on one of her clocks.

She is one of many talented local artists that will be showing, and selling, their wares at the 16th annual Lazy Daze of Summer Festival. It will be held, one week earlier than usual, on July 18 from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. on West First Avenue between Ashland and Fairview avenues.

Akison paints water color scenes on clock faces and then, with the help sometimes of her husband, David, constructs shadow boxes out of wood to house the clocks.

She also enjoys painting things she observes from nature on boxes with acrylics.

“It’s kind of a three-dimensional painting,” said Akison, holding up an example with a cardinal on it.

“Lately, I’ve been pretty obsessed with birds.”

It turns out that, like Akison’s work room, the city in which she lives is quite literally peppered with creativity.

Of the more than 50 artists scheduled to partake in the event, a good number of them hail from Grandview Heights or the surrounding area, said Jeri Diehl Cusack, library community liaison.

The event is put on by the Grandview-Marble Cliff Arts Council in cooperation with the Grandview Heights Public Library.

Other Grandview artists participating in this year’s show include Nancy Kukla, who makes hand-sewn decorative dolls and toys, and Kristi Ross, Anne Holman and Brooke Berning, who all create jewelry.

Also from Grandview are Casey Vincent, photography; Jean Smith, who makes reversible aprons and bags; Aline Yamada, who works in prints; former Grandview Mayor Colleen Sexton, who will have her hand-crafted doll clothing at the festival; and Holly Adkins-Ardrey, who, like Akison, works in mixed medias.

Marble Cliff resident Margaret Kukura will be on hand selling custom-made Bobcat-pride T-shirts.

Upper Arlington residents Shana Keiser, owner of Fifth Avenue Galleries, and Patty Weiland, a former teacher at Stevenson Elementary School, now retired, are another pair of jewelry makers who will be on hand.

The festival also features artists from Powell, Dublin, Hilliard, Gahanna, Pickerington, Reynoldsburg, Galloway, Westerville, Plain City, Galena, Bremen, Milford, Johnstown, and Columbus, Cusack said.

But Lazy Daze is not just a local showcase. It’s a show that draws from throughout the region too.

Cusack said organizers are “quite proud” of the fact that the festival will draw an artist from as far away as Fort Wayne, Ind., this year and has others returning to show their work from Akron, Cincinnati, Ada and Dayton.

“It just becomes a community-oriented event … with connections to the art world outside of Grandview,” Cusack said.

Akison has been showing her work at festivals for nearly 15 years and that this will be her fourth time showing at Lazy Daze.

“I love doing festivals that are in my community,” said Akison, she added that she also showed at the Columbus Arts Festival earlier this year.

“I like the fact that it is a community event. It’s a chance for people to see what I do that maybe don’t know that I’m an artist.”

For more information about this year’s Lazy Daze of Summer Festival visit the Web site ghpl.org.

and …

Barefoot coach inspires teen to begin collecting shoes

Inspired by the story of a barefoot college basketball coach in Indiana, a pair of Grandview Heights residents have decided to collect shoes.

If it doesn’t make sense yet, it will.

Thirteen-year-old Gabriela Romero Rose and her mother, Charity Romero Rose, said they were watching a story on television about Indiana University-Purdue University at Indianapolis men’s basketball coach Ron Hunter.

He coached a game in his bare feet to raise awareness about Samaritan’s Feet — a nonprofit organization that collects new shoes and gives them to children around the world — during the NCAA basketball tournament this spring.

Gabriela Romero Rose, who played basketball, said Hunter’s story made a mark.

“That’s what kind of inspired me,” Romero Rose said. “I thought, I could do something like that.”

The goal of Samaritan’s Feet is to provide 10 million pairs of new shoes for orphans and impoverished children in this country and around the world, according to the organization’s Web site.

The group was founded by Emmanuel Ohonme, a native of Nigeria who didn’t receive his first pair of shoes until he was 9 years old.

Ohonme, who now lives in the United States, said his organization hopes to collect three million pairs of shoes by the end of this year.

“I can’t imagine,” growing up without shoes, Romero Rose said. “I enjoy going around in my bare feet, but I can’t imagine going through my childhood without shoes.”

But before you can get to 10 million, first you’ve got to get one.

Gabriela Romero Rose said she and her mother’s first attempt to raise some awareness was not as successful as they had hoped.

The two tried to organize event for one of her daughter’s basketball games, but the timing was too soon to get a big effort together, Charity Romero Rose said.

So they redoubled their efforts this summer by setting up booths at the monthly Grandview Hop events, the Tour de Grandview Cycling Classic and the weekly Music on the Lawn series at the Grandview Heights Public Library.

They admit it has been slow going. To this point, they’ve managed to collect three pairs of shoes and roughly $70 in donations.

But Gabriela Romero Rose said she is not discouraged.

“I’ve only set up a booth a couple of times,” she said.

“It may be a slow start but I’m sure things will pick up this summer. I’m not that worried about not getting anymore.”

Romero Rose said she also has her eye on the end of the summer when parents do their back-to-school shopping. The two are planning to put up a booth at the ice cream social event at Stevenson Elementary School Aug. 18.

Their goal is to collect 100 pairs of shoes to send in to Samaritan’s Feet, said Romero Rose, adding, “that’s a lot of shoes.”

Ohonme said the importance of individual efforts such as the Romero Roses’ cannot be understated.

“That’s the fuel that keeps us going,” Ohonme said.

“People realize that they’ve been blessed, and with blessings come the responsibility to give back.

“To me, it’s just music to my soul.”

For more information about Samaritan’s Feet or to find out how to donate visit the Web site samaritansfeet.org.

To make a donation through the Romero Roses, call 614-421-2391.

“People realize that they’ve been blessed, and with blessings come the responsibility to give back.”

–Emmanuel Ohonme

Both of these stories can be found at our website, www.columbuslocalnews.com.

A morning to test one’s constitution and, sadly, no turtles.

Now I know why sometimes Jenny is ticked off in the morning.

I was the first one up today (a rarity) at about 5:30 a.m. and by 6:30 I had battled a trash bag stuck in the bin and taken the whole damn thing out to the dumpster where I hand-chucked refuse from the bag until it would budge, picked up cat puke on the floor, over-filled the coffee maker (Jenny fills it the night before – dammit, I knew that!) and spooned out the excess water, and, finally, the newspaper is in the middle of the garden … I had to chuckle a little at that, bitch-ass paper boy.

So, I’m sorry, lady, you are stronger than I. First one up gets the short end of the stick.

Back to the reason why I was up at 5:30, had a really elaborate dream about Scottish woman who took lovers in the British Army to save her Scottish beau – it all made sense in the dream. I think it’s a book. A book YET TO BE WRITTEN!

Anyway, I woke up thinking about the dream and trying to make sense of it. After about a half and hour I just decided to call it a night’s sleep. I will probably pay for the early up, am seeing Transformers 2 tonight – I am ridiculously geeked about this.

Other developments include the re-disappearance of Steve. WTF, I need to converse with whoever is “saving the kids”. They won’t ALL lose fingers. It’ll just take one, let him show off a swollen, Neosporin-coated digit or two and the rest will likely lay back … well, that or they will rage and attack him with neighborhood flotsam.

Anyway, I have no proof, but I believe Steve has be Shanghai’d.

Michael Jackson died yesterday, and while sad, ESPN has already made me sick with their interviews of athletes about MJ’s death followed by quotes like, “Well, at least sports serves as a distraction from real life.”

There hasn’t been anything real about Jackson for quite some time. Weird and sad, I feel no more about it.

Reading Kitchen Confidential right now – amazing.

Cuz, Dale’s Pale is pretty good. I will likely have to write about the monster grill in another post, my attention span is waning on this post.

Zen moment – 35 refurbished Callaway golf balls (and one Bridgestone, wtf?) for $20! Love getting shit in the mail. Well, not shit.

Lastly, had a personal sports moment – shot my first sub-100 round of golf with a 99 at Glenross, a 46 on the back nine.

Wanted … and unwanted neighbors.

Lots of stuff happenin. 

First of all, Steve is back – and there WILL be trouble.

Steve is an alligator snapping turtle who first arrived in our little drainage stream about two years ago. 

But he disappeared.

We found out later from one of the local chillin that their dad had removed him from the area cause he might bite. 

Well, he MIGHT have bit someone before … if they stuck their hand in his face … now he has some bad intentions…I think. 

I love Steve and he is back in the neighborhood. 

There is also an albino squirrel in the area. Jenny hasn’t seen him and is skeptical. 

Also, we are getting a screen door today. That is going to be phenomenal. 

Golf fever in full blast these days. 

Still running, about three miles up to four or five times a week. It’s amazing, I always hated running and while I still have not found that “runner’s high”, I have found that “done-running high”. 

Gonna have a cookout this weekend. Gonna play some golf. Gonna have me some fun. 

Damn. It’s Monday.

Zen moment: Again, Steve is back. And when he flexes his jaws weather patterns change. 

PS – Foulness afoot. We found a big-time nasty penis plant in the garden today. Looks like a finger coming out of the ground with no fingernail. Jiggly to the touch, orange in color with a hint of cancerous sun burn red. Fugly. 

If anybody knows what this describes, please comment.

My guess is mushroom, but it could be the amputated pinky of the four-fingered radish spirit… Jenny didn’t plant radishes though. 

I may provide a picture in the future.

Woe be gone, golf tard

As it has been some time since my last entry I just thought I’d give an overall update for the last few weeks.

Possibly the best news (yes, I’m self-centered) is that I got my first birdie over the weekend. Long time coming. Par 3.

I also shot a 101, easily the best I’ve ever done and just enough to make me want to quit my job and tin cup.

Jenny is doing supremely well. She got another job!!!!!

And then she quit that same new job!!!!

It was all for the best…because, well, it wasn’t for the best. The new job, I mean. 2-D babysitting … sort of … for fat kids … or athletes.

Jenny also received a laughing Buddha for her garden for our anniversary. He is fat and smiling, made of concrete complete with man-boobs, nipples and a double chin.

He is obese with joy.

I got a bracelet. That I like. Sterling silver or I get ‘the willies’.

Hoo hoo! And the poison ivy! Ever had it on your genitals? Hee hee!

What?

Zen moment:

Listening to Garrison Keillor say, “And that’s the news from Lake Wobegone; where all the women are strong, the men are good looking and the children are above average” while driving with Jenny on a sunny Saturday morning.

Dakota

Here is a little short-short (very small short story) I wrote a couple of months ago. Figured I’d add some more of this kind of stuff.

Dakota 

            It was very cold and the snow was hard. Tom Corbin listened for the sound of his deputies’ boots as they walked back to their own horses. The winds on the northern plains were unnatural. They cut cold to the bone and did strange things to sound.

            Corbin’s cheeks were numb and his ears burned, he buried himself as far as he could in the collar of his coat.

            He watched a man with a noose around his neck sitting atop a horse beneath an old withered tree.

            “She’s hurt,” said the man.  

            Corbin’s eyes moved across the tree limb over the man’s head.

            “She chose,” Corbin said.

            “She ain’t far, Corbin,” said the man, he had to shout to be heard above a gust.

            The deputies sat on their own mounts without speaking. They both held their shoulders tight against their necks. One of them tried to light a cigarette, gave up and stuffed it back into his pocket. The other held a rifle across his lap.

            When the wind died a moment later the man spoke again.

            “You caught me, Corbin,” he said. “That’s fine, but – ”

            The wind picked up again and the man’s words were drowned out.

            Corbin nodded briskly to his deputy.   

            The deputy pointed the gun at the ground in front of the man’s horse and fired.

            The earth and snow in front of the horse spurted into the air. The sound rang out with a crack and was carried away across the plains.

            The horse reared. The man tried to keep his legs around the beast for a moment but the animal broke away.

            He watched the man’s face as he twisted and choked. When he stopped moving Corbin lowered his hat and turned his horse into the teeth of the wind. 

             

           

             

The Simple Life

Spent some time in Morgan County this weekend on the old family farm. The fields were green, the trees budding, we shot guns, drank Busch Light … and a few of my own beers, Brackett had the key to fizz (don’t sip like a wuss) … and stood around a crackling fire.

I stepped in cow shit, the bottom six inches of the back of my blue jeans was soft-turd green.

But it was still crazy beautiful.

Haikus:

The domestic cow/ a plodding wet turd dropper/ boot prints by moonlight

Old white closet door/ make shift target in the field/ I think you shot high

I also got some poison ivy on my side. That’s not a haiku, just a fact. Teter said she puts bleach on it, but that sounds a little too Fight Club for me. I’ll stick with expired cortisone cream.

Zen moment:

 

You can take these snowflakes and shove them where … uh … shove them in Ohio

Just got off deadline and I’m staring out my window at snow flurries. I’m listening to music in my iPhone and it’s amazing what shuffle can do.

Staring at the window listening to the Decemberists is COMPLETELY different from the sensation you get when staring out that same window a few seconds later listening to Alice in Chains. Yeah.

Just felt like sharing. I had a weird dream last night.

I’m reading the Ramayana, it’s an Indian - Hindu – folktale (the version I’m reading is a 170 page prose version of the original 10,000 and more thousands of lines poems) involving ten-headed gods, massive monkeys, eagles, demons and all that. I think it crept into my subconscious a little bit last night because I had a very deity-intensive rest. I don’t recall exactly what happened, but it all went down in Anime.

Japanamation.

I get to try my beer tonight. Gout in a bottle? Liquid sunshine? Putrid scum water?

Good times all.

Not quite sure what the point was

But I just finished Old School by Tobias Wolff and I liked it. Written from the standpoint of an all boys private school attendee in his final year.

Amazing visiting writers keep popping up (Frost, Ayn Rand and Ernest Hemingway – I know, WTF? Yale couldn’t get those people all in one year) and he talks about school and hearing the writers and being like 1/4 Jewish and how he hides it.

There are contests where all the ”sixth formers” get to submit writings to win an hour stroll through the garden with the visiting author.

Wolff’s character plagiarizes one and gets kicked out of school. End of story.

But, wait, there is a chapter about how he grows up to be himself (as a writer) and then a final chapter about how the dean of the school let everybody think he knew Ernest Hemingway but didn’t.

“Now I’m done.”

All that being said I did like the book. Well written and kind of a fun read. Not too long either.

Beer is bottled and lookin’ sexy.

99 bottles of beer on the wall....

Sterile and ready for action. Ha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

the assembly line

 

For beer, this is like coitus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

47 and a half bottles of the blonde stuff

They’re full and ready for bed…two weeks or so and they should be rested and bubbly.