Many years ago Battlestar Galactica aired for one season. I was excited about another science fiction series after the demise of Star Trek. A couple who were a few years older than Wife and I were also interested in the series. Herbie was a Ph.D. student and his wife, Marsha, was an environmental engineer. They were close friends through our ties to Christian organizations working on campus.
They were also interested in the new series and so the date was made. We would watch the pilot together at their place that first Sunday evening airing.
On the appointed evening, we arrived. Herbie and I made fresh coffee with a maker similar to the little Melitta pictured above (which is what brought the memory). We then popped corn the old-fashioned way — in a heavy pot with oil and heat.
The preparations made, we gathered in their living room to watch the show together. Their cat adored me and approached me sitting on the floor (yep, I sat on the floor then) and I enjoyed his company too.
The program was just alright. The general audience will never have a taste for hard science fiction. But the company was enjoyable, the coffee and popcorn was good, and BG was good enough to provide entertainment.
The little Melitta coffee maker reminded me of those times. I adored Herbie and Marsha and lost contact somewhere along the way. They were gracious and loving people. I remember them fondly.
The other evening, the Girl and I walked past the Nevada Tribute to Fallen LEOs on the Capitol Quadrangle. I always feel a sense of loss when I stop and reflect on the selflessness of many of our law enforcement officers. I sometimes interact with law enforcement on the grounds, when opportunity presents itself.
These monuments are important. I am glad they are there.
It turned cooler last night. I woke to a sub-40F morning… the first I can remember in a while. It was brisk and refreshing to be outdoors, even if only in the city. I also woke sore from a couple of pretty hard days. Monday the Girl and I walked a quick four miles before heading to the dentist’s office for what I hope is the last adjustment to my new bridge.
The bite was good, but I kept biting the inside of my cheek and that is not pleasant. So, he adjusted the outside of the bridges (both upper and lower) to open up the bite just a bit and knock down some of the sharpness on the upper bridge. That was so much better.
It’s so good to have a full set of teeth again. Now I just need a few weeks for the support teet to settle into their new role of carrying the bridge.
Tuesday morning we met a friend for a nice hike in the Indian Hills/Jacks Valley Wildlife Management Area. As written so many (too many) times, that’s one of my favorite places to hike. The morning was cloudy and cool with hints of rain all around us. But the Girl was ready to go and so were we. I stuffed my hoodie and a poncho into my pack, donned the pack, grabbed my walking stick, and off we went.
We moved pretty quickly that morning. The first climb up to the ridgeline is a good challenge for this old man. The first 200 yards are pretty steep, then the grade moderates a little, but there’s still a good climbout left. That got me warmed up and put some pressure on my legs.
The Girl was super-happy, sniffing, peeing, and running between the clots of brush. The cooler weather suits her. She tires quickly in the heat and is usually ready to quit by the time we return to the rig. Tuesday, however, she was all go until the very end of the hike.
We got five miles in Tuesday morning. On the way off the ridge near Jacks Valley Road I double-timed down the trail. It’s all DG and soft, so it’s easy on my knees. It’s fun running after the Girl, whooping and laughing on the way down and grabbing a bit of ass when I catch her. We were both laughing and I suspect my friend, who followed at a bit slower pace, was laughing at both of us.
It was a good day.
This morning, the Girl and I walked over by the abandoned Nevada orphanage. It’s a great place for dogs and old men. She has a blast checking all the squirrel holes (they are everywhere over there and uncontrolled). Sometimes she gets to chase one, but they’re cagey about staying low whenever anyone is around.
I noticed the image above while we were walking there. The light was beautiful in the crisp morning air. The interplay of light, color, and texture captured my attention. So, I framed the shot and made the capture. The feel of fall is here, although I suspect we’ll warm up a bit before it truly changes.
It’s a good today, too. I’m deeply thankful for my time here in Carson City. The time spent walking and hiking is so good for me. I am also enjoying going to church again. I hope to have my own space again soon as well.
I woke fairly early this morning, dreaming. It was not a troubled dream, but the recollection of it left me troubled. I rolled around on the bed a few minutes, then turned on the light and picked up my book. I decided that reading for a few minutes might settle my mind and permit sleep to return.
The few minutes I spent reading helped. It cleared my mind and after an hour or so I turned off the light and returned to sleep.
I pulled this image from my recent shots a few minutes ago. My first thought was “Going Nowhere”. But, as I reflected on the capture, a David Wilcox song came to mind and the line was “you were going somewhere” from the chorus of the song. I am not yet certain whether the intuition is for me or for someone else. Perhaps the walk this morning will provide some clarity.
I am not in the mindset to be going somewhere at the moment. I desire to be settled for a bit — to have some time to process my things and decide the minimum set that I want to keep and dispose of the remainder. I want some settled time to read, to think, to write, to work, and to make art.
My application for a position with BLM was not referred. I was a little shocked by that as my qualifications as a hydraulic modeler are excellent. Yet, I don’t know the BLM software (not a big deal, really). Regardless, it is what it is. The occurrence unsettled me a bit, but my mind settled back down after a couple of hours and I realized that I have enough work lined up to pay my bills. I realize I am old enough that I might not be hired for a full-time position again. The nature of things is that companies desire the young (energetic, enthusiastic, naive, and cheap) for many positions. Experience, perseverance, and a low bullshit tolerance are not desired (and come with age).
I am of a mind to be settled for a bit. After a year of wandering, I’d like to be somewhere for a bit.
When I woke this morning, a few thoughts came on the nature of legalism and faith. I attended a church here in Carson City last Sunday. I expect to attend again this morning. A few visits are required for me to develop a sense of what a church is like.
But I was particularly stricken by the talk of one of the elders after the meeting. At first, I felt like an outsider witnessing the airing of dirty laundry, but it was an open meeting and non-members were not discharged before he read a statement and then expanded what on what he read.
The gist of it is that one of the elders became concerned that the new pastor’s teaching on the salvation process was incorrect. The pastor’s order of events in salvation was incorrect. After a few meetings, the elder left and the congregation split (to make a long story shorter). Worse, calls began to members who stayed in which they were solicited to leave the church with the intent to destroy it by attrition. The elder standing in front of us was deeply hurt by this, as were the remaining members of the board.
As I reflected on my own experience with a church division my empathy rose for this small group of Christians. The struggle and hurt associated with an event like this are great. Some will struggle with their faith as a result. The onlooking world will sit in judgment (if they even care). It’s a terrible testimony when church division strikes.
I shake my head as I think about it. Yes, there are fundamentals of the faith that I think are immutable. Those are things that deal with the God’s holiness, human depravity, and the work of Jesus in redemption. Perhaps there are a few others.
But to divide a church over the order of salvation? I struggle with that thought and it leads me to think about legalism. Legalism and judgment go together and are a poisonous pair. I think they stem from pride and a need to be superior. Whether or not that is the case for this little church, I don’t know. In a sense, it’s none of my business.
But, I plan to attend again this morning and will eventually have to decide whether I will stay on for awhile or look somewhere else. I’m OK with that.
Yeah, the pastor is fairly young and inexperienced. His teaching seems solid and he bespeaks himself well. He seems scholarly as I would expect. I know nothing of his pastoral gifts and probably won’t for some time. But, I’ll give him some time.
A lot of grace is required between members of a church. Patience, forbearance, an unwillingness to be offended, and love are needed. They are the gifts and fruit of the Spirit. Legalism, pride, arrogance, and judgment are the antithesis of grace. They are deadly to the person who hoards them and their poison is easily spread, especially by leadership.
[Shrug…] So, after that wandering rumination, my intent is to stay here awhile. I like Carson City. I like northern Nevada winters. I like the Carson Range. I love walking with the Girl in the sagelands. And, I think I’ll visit this little church a few more times. I wasn’t an invisible man, although I received only a few greetings. I resonate with their current struggle, having a similar experience in my past. I want to see what the young pastor has to say and what he will do.
I think I’m not going somewhere… I’m staying here.
P.S. Oh yes, I remember what day it is. I still remember that morning with clarity. I will not forget.
The Girl and I made our way to the old Nevada Children’s Home, where we go many mornings (and evenings) for a short walk and/or play. On this particular morning, we noticed these boots next to the fire plug.
The key to my rig has been bouncing around in my pocket for a couple-three months now. I’m in the process of adjusting my EDC to better fit my lifestyle. It appears there are about three stages for my EDC. The first is the always carry and those things are on my person just about all the time. The key to my rig is one of those items.
So, I decided a month ago that my key needs a lanyard. Unfortunately, the lanyard hole was too small for standard 550 paracord. So I didn’t make any progress.
This morning, after walkies and getting my bite adjusted on the new appliance in my mouth, I had a few minutes and remembered putting a small triangular file in my portable toolkit. So, I retrieved some paracord from my kit, got the file out, did test fit to ensure my recollection was correct (measure twice, cut once) — it was — so I started to work with the file.
After about 15-minutes of cut-and-check, I was pretty sure I could pull a length of line through the lanyard hole in the key. so, I cut a piece of paracord, singed the new end, and pulled it through.
Then came the knot-experimentation phase. I tried a couple of times, then decided the project was good enough for the moment and quit. I needed to get the rig to the Toyota House for service and didn’t want to be late.
So this is my first shot at a short lanyard for my 4Runner key. I’m going to work up a finishing knot for the lanyard. Then I expect to use an S-biner or carabiner to clip the key into my new EDC kit.
I’ll get around to describing it and my other levels of EDC at some point. I’m still sorting all that out.
Tuesday evening the Girl and I went out for an evening walk. I mostly just wanted to be outdoors for a while, but also wanted to give her a chance to play, pee and poo, and to walk my regular circuit of Pokéstops.
As we rounded the north end of the Capitol Quadrangle, I noticed that Carson Street was closed and that there was heavy equipment working on the street. That was cool.
We walked a bit south, enjoying the evening air. The Girl was on the hunt for bushytails, although there aren’t many of them at the Capitol. As we exited the Capitol grounds proper, I noticed the machine. It was being pulled by a water truck (with a supply line to the machine) and was chewing up the asphaltic concrete like it was nothing. There was no bouncing, no change in the pitch of the engine to indicate an increased load — just the rumble of the cutters breaking up the pavement and chewing into the base material of the street.
The Girl rolled in the cool grass as I stood there watching the machine work. I made a short video (wished for a tripod) and shot some stills. The backlight was very strong, but I managed to pick up some of the bounce from the front of the Legislature Building. I was struck by the power of this machine.
After a few minutes, we moved on. We were both ready for supper and to settle in for the evening.
I returned in the morning to make the circuit again. Both of us needed walks. As I came around the corner, a worker greeted me. “Do you need to cross?” she asked.
“Nope… I was just admiring the grinder.”
“You mean the pulverizer?” she smiled, “that’s pretty impressive, isn’t it? After 18-years on this job I don’t notice it anymore, but it’s something how it chews up the pavement, isn’t it?”
I nodded as she petted the Girl. Then it was time to move along again, so we said “Good day!” and off we went, back to the room so I could get her vest and go find some breakfast.
What a wonderful encounter to begin the day. I’m truly thankful for such serendipities.
I love Nevada. It’s fun to go walk the Capitol grounds in the morning and evening.
When Pokémon Go first came out, the place was crowded with players. Lately, however, there are not very many when we go walk. The pokestops are still there and we pick up materials from them. But the players seem to have lost interest.
Still, the grounds are beautiful. I want to do some photography of the memorials on the site.
I am fascinated by texture. When the light is right and the texture pops, I will work the scene. The Girl and I have been walking the old Nevada Children’s Home in the mornings and sometimes in the evenings. I passed this door dozens of times. But, one evening the sun was just right and the texture popped. I love serendipity!