Along the wetland that was once the Carson Flume and Lumberyard is a cluster of old willow trees. In the summer, their shade provides a nice respite against the direct sun. They also provide a place for the birds to sit and sing.
We often pause on our walks here for a few moments to listen to the birds and enjoy the shade. Then we press on.
We often walk the linear parkway from Room Street east to Saliman Road (and sometimes beyond). There are lots of birds and a few other critters we encounter along the way. Some areas are infested with California Ground Squirrels, which The Girl loves to chase. Dogs are permitted to be off-lead and it’s a good place to give her a run.
The winter months held this area in bleak grays. There was some water, of course, and a few waterfowl. But mostly it was cold, gray, and dead. When we walked the path a few days ago, I noticed that it now looks like a wetland. (It is.) The contrast was a little startling and called for an image.
A couple of mornings ago I opened the inside door to let in some morning sun. The Girl immediately gravitated toward the warmth. (She was putting some not-so-subtle pressure on me to go on walkies.) The pose demanded an image.
Although she still looks a bit Frankensteinish, her wounds are healing nicely and the sutures will be removed tomorrow. They don’t seem to bother her and she leaves them alone. She’s really very easy to care for, unlike me.
I started carrying my Fuji X-T1 a few days ago on our daily walkies. I decided that enough time passed that I should be carrying a real camera again, with good glass. Mornings are one of my favorite times to make images, especially early when the sun is low.
The Girl and I have walked this area many times (almost every day since returning to Carson). It was once an orphanage and school run by the State of Nevada. Now it’s only a collection of structures used by the state for storage. Sometimes the structures are used by Carson City Sheriff’s deputies to work K-9 units. Most of the time the area is populated (sparsely) by canines and their handlers.
We love the green, the large trees, and the fact that off-leash work is permitted. Most of the others who visit are friendly, or at least polite. The Girl loves to romp in the grass and there are plenty of California ground squirrels to chase. They are cagey, though, and she has yet to catch one of them in this area. (Some others have not been quite so fortunate, though.)
On this particular morning we walked on the capitol grounds. I was hoping for something interesting to present itself for a photograph. There was no joy, however. But this capture was one that pleased me. So I thought I would share it.
It’s difficult to imagine, but a century-and-a-half ago this site was covered with logs from the Sierra Nevada waiting to be processed into timber for mining and other applications. A large flume was used to convey the harvested logs to this site, where they were staged for milling.
Now it’s a linear parkway and a favorite place for dogs and handlers to play. When we do morning walkies in town, it is one of our favorite routes. The Girl loves the fact that ground squirrels populate the area and provide prey to chase. Then she loves the cool, moist grass (obviously) for a nice romp and roll after hunting rodents. I like the cool that emanates from the grass and the shade of the large trees surrounding the site. Plus there is a sense of history that hangs here. I know that men worked this area to make a living. Their energy still lives here. It is nearly tangible.
The Girl’s vet called me a couple of days ago. The mass he was concerned about was a hemagiopericytoma, which is an old term for a soft tissue sarcoma. The pathologist called it Grade 1, which means that there is a 15-percent probability that it will return or metastasize. The margins were clear so he got all of the dangerous tissue. It is the best we can do and I’m not going to worry about it.
But I still f*ing hate cancer. I remind myself regularly that there is only here, there is only now.
The field their place overlooks was clear and I thought a walk would be good for both the Girl and me. So I asked permission to walk down to the end of the field and look around. Permission received, the Girl and I headed off to the chagrin of the other dogs in their pen.
I puttered around the deer stand a few minutes, the Girl making happy sounds behind me. I wanted an image of the stand and of their place before we headed back for supper and celebration. As I finished my last capture, I discovered why the Girl was making happy sounds… she found something to roll in. She trotted over to me, looking quite proud of her self, grinning and laughing.
“What have you gotten into????”
She looked at me, still grinning.
“#$%%@!!!@ Ki? You stink!”
She was no longer grinning. But I couldn’t hold the anger long and her joy was contagious.
“Alright then… you get a bath and you’re not going to like it.” And with that we headed back to the house. I acquired soap, a towel, and the help of my nephew. He held her collar while I wet her down and washed her. She started to shake a couple of times.
“If you control her head, she can’t shake,” I told nephew.
Clean but wet, I toweled her off a couple of times so she wouldn’t get cold. Her collar went into the trash. I had intended to replace it anyway.
Supper and celebration were fun and appropriate. The Girl smelled pretty good as well. FiL and I stopped at Wally-World on the way home to buy a couple of cheap collars, one to wear and a spare in case the first failed.
Travel took me to the east coast for a project meeting. The meeting went well enough, I think. There was a lot of intrigue, or so it seems, in the project panel. There were definitely undercurrents I did not understand. I think I still do not understand them.
But, the meeting was completed. I spent some time with Daughter and her family. I worked on two proposals and one statement of qualifications. I have paying work to do.
Now I’ll go see Wife’s family for a couple of days. Then I’ll head home through Denver to see Older Son and DiL. That will be good, too.
Then I’ll be home for a bit. I’m ready for that.
One of the things I like about my current life is that there is generally no reason why I cannot have a nap in the afternoon. On these sunny winter afternoons, the sun shines through the bedroom window onto the bed. The Girl loves to sun herself. After a long walk this morning (and a short night last night), I decided a nap would be good.
So, we snuggled for an hour or so, the warm sun on us both. The simple comforts of the warm sun and my best friend are so rich.
I posted an in-process image on my Instagram account yesterday. That image is of the section of the Estie with a new ink sack attached with some fountain pen shellac and drying.
The backstory (such as it is) is that I pulled my favorite old Esterbrook J-Series fountain pen from storage. I think it was my very first vintage Esterbrook. The cap and the body are slightly mismatched. That is, the cap color is slightly different than the body color. My expectation is that either someone up the line either mixed the cap with another pen or a restorer pulled a mismatched body and cap to make a whole pen from part-pens.
Regardless, when I received the pen, I renewed the ink sack (my very first Esterbrook restore) and added a brand-new 9556 Master Series nib unit. It’s classified as a fine-firm nib. In my experience, all of the Esterbrook nibs are nails. (Heh…)
When I decided to ink the pen yesterday, I dropped the nib into my bottle of Noodler’s Zhivago, a green-black ink that is bulletproof. The fill lever would not activate. So, I knew the pen needed service. I wicked the ink from the nib and set it aside.
After lunch I pulled out my pen tools and spare-parts kit and started sorting through those items. It’s been nearly two years since I sorted through my pen kit. That was a kind of memory trip of itself. I mentally inventoried the parts and tools and found what I needed — a fresh Size 16 ink sack, my X-Acto knife (and blades), and sack shellac.
I pulled the section from the body, with a little heat to loosen things up. The old sack broke apart in my fingers — ossified. It was, indeed, time for a new ink sack.
Back at my worktable, I removed the remaining parts of the old sack that clung to the section, scraping a little with a fingernail and my X-Acto knife. That done, I fitted and trimmed the new sack, shellaced the section, and attached the new sack. The assembly was then set aside to cure.
After an hour of puttering with other things, the shellac was dry enough to reassemble the pen. I dipped the fresh ink sack into pure talcum powder to lubricate it during operation of the fill mechanism. I lined up the nib unit and fill lever and pressed the section back into the body of the pen.
A function check followed and then the thumbs-up that all was well. I filled the renewed fountain pen with Zhivago and did some test writing. For an inexpensive pen (they cost a couple bucks new with the better nib units — now they’re about twenty bucks on eBay), it writes very well. The nib is wet and smooth.
I remembered why this inexpensive little vintage pen is one of my favorites. Like me, it’s a bit of a mashup of bits and pieces. But it’s functional and reliable.
The weather is poor. This morning it is snowing. I think there is almost six inches of new snow on the ground. It rained, spit snow, and showed a little sun yesterday. There was enough sun to encourage me to get out for a bit and walk. But everything is so wet. The ground is saturated and any new rain will be runoff with little abstraction.
I thought the Carson River might make flood stage. I think it came in just a little less, with a peak discharge of about 9,000 cfs on Monday. I have photographs of the river near River Park and near Mexican Dam. I think I will post them and post-date them to their proper dates.
It is the new year. Happy New Year, friends. I pray your celebrations were safe and enjoyable. I know that I saw the new year in via my normal fashion… snoozing with my dog. Heh…
Life is good. I have more to write and more photographs to make and share.