Sunday, July 31, 2022

Monday Stuff On the Way To Other Stuff: Better - Just Not Recovered

     I'll post this Sunday evening -- I've got a birthday supper to attend for a certain daughter tonight. YAY!!!! (And then some work...)

    A week of dealing with Covid symptoms is done. We're both improved, but it's not over yet. At least we can go see our little darlings -- both girlies have birthdays in early August, and were feeling quite nervous about meeting up, since Mom was still testing positive.


Maybe this would have helped...I sure felt like it sometimes.


    Well, not anymore. Thankfully, I am now a Negative Person. But a negative one, with a ton of work that should have been finished up last week. The Brick is feeling much better, and has managed to catch up on some chores. I need to get rid of these cold/achy/flu-yness symptoms, and get on with life!



Sigh...no doubt President Biden can relate.  Meanwhile:

Yesterday was George Jetson's birthday??? Whoa -- there had better be a LOT of changes after 7/31/22.

Some weird twists on ten crime cases. As in Really Weird, surprising twists.

Antiques Roadshow and 'found at a yard sale' stories, one after the other. (And no clicking to the next page!) Lots of photos and comps too, for fellow appraisers.

A rare "magic mirror" -- discovered in plain sight! This is weird, too... a headless religious figure, also hiding in plain sight for decades next to two apartment buildings.

Coal miners -- and a miracle rescue -- 20 years later: "God was the 10th man." (You'll have to read the article to find out why nine men were rescued -- but only eight are shown in the photos.)

A very interesting look at philanthropist David Rubenstein and his connection to the Founding Fathers -- as well as Alaska's newspapers, governors...and oil. 

Lt. Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) died recently, age 89. A class act, with dignity and grace. I admired her.


Also recently died: one of the remaining WWII Navajo code talkers.  He was 98.

Clever redneck engineering solutions. I could see the Brick and my dad doing some of these!

Some very funny parent/children tweets.  Especially if your kids are under 10...

Archeological finds straight out of a horror story. And while you're there on Listverse:

Unsolved codes maybe you can crack!   (The Antiques Roadshow link above starts with one of these.)

Growing up poor. Does it affect you? Well yes, but... (From Get Rich Slowly)

Easy ways to mess with people's heads -- people who are messing with YOU. 

Ten ways to bless someone -- without spending a lot.  (From One Frugal Girl)

How to fix frizzy hair on dolls or toy ponies. Trust me -- someone, somewhere is needing this.  (From One Frugal Girl)

How are Californians handling the huge jump in inflation? (It's not a recession, remember -- President Biden is assuring us of that. Two quarters of negative growth, according to Biden, aren't enough to justify calling it a recession. Treasury Secretary Yellen agrees with him -- and she should know.) But President Clinton said...


An especially good Monday Stuff post -- back in 2012, courtesy of yours truly. (I wonder what happened to the so-called scientist??)

The gorgosaurus dino skeleton that went up for auction... 

(It sold for a little more than $6 million.)

Some terrific blueberry recipes.  (From One Hundred Dollars A Month)

A parrot - the lone speaker of an extinct human language?  You think that's weird? How about...

The jockey who has been the only one to win his horse race -- dead.

Fifty famous lefthanded celebrities. 

A CNN panel struggles with the Biden administration's definition of "inflation."

Here's the way to success as an entrepreneur. Invest $1,000 , lose it -- and you've won, according to Robert Kiyosaki. Why? Because you've 'learned to fail.' (No, I am not making this up. NBC funded it back in 2006.)

The Challenger crew...what happened to them after the explosion? Quora people weigh in.

Financial gurus that have gone broke sometime in their lives.  (From The White Coat Investor)

The flashy bishop who got robbed right in the middle of his on-camera sermon. The thieves made off with at least a million dollars in gold jewelry. He's pissed -- after all, 'I worked hard for it, so I can wear what I want!'

    Yep, that's what Jesus would do.

A little girl -- lost for a decade until she's found -- in a Nicaraguan orphanage.

Ten lost films, recently found.   Plus... ten films that are still lost.

These mansions aren't worth what they used to be.


Have a good week. Stay healthy.



Saturday, July 30, 2022

Teachers Rule

 ...in more ways than one.






Make it Benedict Cumberbatch, and I'll think about it...




Friday, July 29, 2022

I Need

 



At least I finally tested negative tonight -- no more Covid! I'm not completely well yet; neither is the Brick. But better.

...and now our friend has it. Poor President Biden, too.

Inflation??

 Take a look at the Daily Mail's research on how this is affecting American families. The average American household, based on prices on 45 different products, will spend a staggering $5,915 more on products this year than it did before. 

 (And it's a Brit paper! Why aren't American media sources doing this kind of work?)

The post is here, if you want some context. 

Ouch.



(Graph from the Daily Mail post - go here for more)

Ah, but we won't have to worry about this in a few years...maybe even right away. 'Promise,' says Congress and the WH. "Historic legislation -- this is going to be a game-changer for so many Americans," says Biden's press secretary.

Well, we're waiting! 

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Saved By A Thread - And Updates

 What is the matter with us?

We thought that Covid was in the rearview mirror...but the Brick had a setback yesterday, and I seem to be 'enjoying' one today, complete with a reemergence of fever. Which is not good, because 1) it's hot again, and 2) I have a ton of work to do. The fog needs to leave. Preferably miles away.

Last night, we had one of the worst rain and windstorms we've had in years. The trailer was shuddering as rain lashed against the windows and pounded on the roof. (So glad we got the roof replaced this spring!) Finally it let up, but both Ruby and I were a bit nervous after that. The Brick was unimpressed -- he saw far worse growing up on the coast in North Carolina, I guess. 


I was not scared, Mommmmm!


Both Daughter #1 and Daughter #2 have birthdays coming up in the next few weeks. I need to get better, so we can be with them! 

Although life is quiet right now, I still have things to pick up and put away. Being sick means that no one does that... you just let it lie, and it piles up.

     Well, I can't do that anymore. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Friend Holly Anderson sent me this great 'spool dress' photo from an exhibit. It's gorgeous, all right -- but anyone who's held spools in their hand knows they can get heavy. Holly wondered how someone would move around, dragging this kind of weight. I just wonder how she keeps the top from falling down! 



(Thanks, Holly. May your tops forever stay up.)



Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Frugal Hits & Misses -- July Report

      Things have calmed down considerably in our peaceful mountain home. If anything, it's a little TOO calm -- because I have had a lot of appraising to finish up this month. We try to keep up on chores; the Brick has been a champ about this, particularly since mowing the lawn meant helping fix the tractor and the trimmer first. (The mower too, come to think of it.) I do my part to keep things watered, and help out here and there. Getting diagnosed with Covid a week ago was no fun, and slowed us both down. We are still recovering. (Do you EVER get less tired?)

     Two working trips made life interesting, too. 



FRUGAL HITS

(Some of these are from late June)

*Borrowed a cattle watering trough from our friends, for use as a soaking tub. I added a solar water fountain I'd bought on clearance ages ago, to keep the water circulating. (Okay, it looks pretty, too.)

*Used a work trip to Granby/Grand Lake as an excuse to hit the hot springs! (Peaks n' Pines Quilt Show)

*Discount at Hot Sulphur Springs Resort-- for being a senior and military. (Both on the Brick's side -- but she gave me a discount, too.)

*Leftovers from lunch, served for supper after we spent a few hours soaking. (Lunch wasn't cheap -- but it was good.)

*Three pennies found in the resort changing room -- 2 by the Brick, 1 by yours truly. Otherwise, I haven't found any change on the floor or ground for ages. I've been looking, too...

*Opened an investment account for the Brick. Opened one for myself, as well. (Index funds)

*Pulled 'free' bread (originally from the thrift shop) from the freezer. Used up other things in there, including elk. Our canned goods decreased some, too, thanks to staying home a lot.

     I also baked some bread -- which meant using the stove and heating up the trailer. But it was delicious. Our friends got a loaf, too.

*Tested for Covid, using kits we'd received a few months ago free. (I tested positive. The Brick was negative, in spite of the same symptoms -- but that was a few days before. We've both got it.)

*Did quite a bit of appraising -- mostly quilts, but some art prints -- and a Warhol painting. Judged at the Black Canyon Quilt Show, as well as appraising.

*One of the giftcards we got last month had already expired by the time it reached us! The Brick got them to reissue a new one. 

*Messed up and forgot the four eggs in a batch of carrot cake. It didn't rise as much, but actually tasted pretty good! I also made a surprisingly good 'crisp' by topping canned peaches with cookie crumbs, and topping with whipped cream.

*Got our internet service credited through mid-August. I don't know about you, but our internet and phone service has been horrible this summer. Is it due to solar flares? 

*The Brick replaced the driveshaft on the truck himself, with the help of our friend. The Brick is amazing! (And our friend is no slouch, either.) This was a 'miss,' part-wise...but the Brick saved us $400 or so in installation costs.


Not much metal for an $1100 price tag...

Fortunately, the truck handled two trips into the mountains pre-repair, plus trips into town for church & errands. (It was getting a bit iffy there.)

* Checked out several video series from the library -- my 'Brit buddies,' as the Brick says: Endeavour and George Gently. Nothing bought from the used booksale room. Picked up some holds for a friend while she was gone, and she picked up some for me.

*Grocery Buys:  A few free items via Safeway's Saturday Sampler program: plant-based sausage, and a kombucha drink. (The Sampler seems to be stopped now.) Other Safeway specials: $1.77 milk, 97-cent quarts of ice cream, $1.67 sliced Swiss (8 oz), two free cucumbers and a free pkg of plant-based sausage. (It was 'okay' hot, and nauseatingly greasy cold. We'll stick to the real thing.) From Amazon Warehouse: cans of chicken approx. 90 cents each -- tastier than tuna, and a heck of a lot cheaper. (Yes, I bought extra.) I also got Mary Kitchen corned beef hash for less -- it's the only brand to stock up on. P & G teabags were marked down...so got those, as well. (We were out.) Plus anchovies. (Hey, you get what you want -- I'll get what I want.) 

*A visit to a Goodwill outlet -- hot, dusty, sweaty...and wonderful! A goosedown comforter, prom dress (changeable satin, perfect for Crazy quilts) and antique handkerchiefs -- 49 cents a pound. T-shirts, a Wilson leather jacket, and several presents: $1.49/pound. Books - 49 cents each. WOW.

    The Brick found a $900 price tag on the comforter, and assumed that was its price, including a brass bed. Nope -- the brand is Brass Bed. And the comforter sells for that much! It's high-quality Polish goose down feathers encased in an Egyptian cotton cover. 

     Oh my.

     Daughter #2 loved the Wilson jacket, and looked great in it. Son #2 got two wild t-shirts for work. And our total bill for everything was less than $20! 



Beautiful. (But she was tired.)

     Our experience at the Goodwill Outlet spoiled me for the next stop - to 'Sally's,' or the Salvation Army in Boulder. Two bucks each for three shirts? Well, yes, but... with a few other things, the total was almost $12. Normally, I'd be thrilled, but I was sulking a little after the breathless buys earlier. 

*Other thrift shop buys: 99-cent and $2 t-shirts (mostly new and unused); $1.99 for a U.S. Constellation ship kit; a couple of videos for 99-cents each.

*Did our civic duty -- and voted. Hopefully you did, too.

*Dropped off a trailer full of branches at the local county site -- and got a free load of mulch in return. (The Brick took care of this -- I still was sick. What a guy.)

*Treated to some lunches and dinners for work -- and a supper from my appraiser friend. Thank you!

*Washed and restored two family quilts. I also washed the goose down comforter from the thrift outlet. (It came out beautifully.)

*Started singing again on Worship Team at church. Covid derailed this a bit, but we'll be back on schedule, once we're 'negative.' It's nice to be back. 

*An 1849 reprint of Charles Dickens' Master Humphrey's Clock -- at $39. A steal, considering other versions were triple and quadruple the price. I bought a small set of Dickens novels, too, with my allowance. 

My buddy.


*Took our friends to the airport, and picked them up. They'll return the favor, if we can only get away for a trip. 

*Ordered new business cards: 1000 were far cheaper than a few hundred. Used a health-connected debit card, which gave me more than $200, just for filling out surveys! (Also ordered some Christmas and birthday presents, using the same card.) 

*Earned a bit of Coca-Cola stock, thanks to a kind reader who must have opened a Robinhood account. Thank you! Transactions are FREE, and it's an easy way to invest in the stock market. When you sign up, you get free stock -- and I get some, too. Go here for more.

*A few times, took advantage of the $10 special at Red Robin: drink, burger, unlimited fries -- and a pretzel bites appetizer. Delicious...and we had enough leftovers for another full meal.

*RAIN!!! Some afternoon/evening brief showers -- and one lovely day when it dripped and drizzled all day long.  Every July, we invariably have a "monsoon period" that gives us rain nearly every afternoon for a few weeks. I cannot tell you how wonderful this is.



FRUGAL MISSES

*Watched the garden and perennial bed get decimated. What the grasshoppers didn't eat, the deer did. (Looking at Mavis' garden, or Jeannie's, just emphasizes that.) Fortunately, the greens and onions are growing back -- and neither of these two have figured out a way to climb the stairs to the balcony pots. Nyah, nyah, nyah, you critters! 

     Lessons learned: grasshoppers don't like wild sunflowers. And they're not very keen on herbs, either, or daylilies. The thyme does seem to have succumbed to the heat, rather than bugs. Everything else got munched on. The lone intact zucchini plant down in the perennial bed is shivering and waiting its turn. 

(If you've got any ideas for protecting my poor garden from these ravagers, please chime in!)

Go away, you bugger.

*Where in the world is our tax refund? Are you waiting on this, too??

*Our air mattress deflated. Right when we were both sick, and really needed that comfort. The Brick bought another one. Combined with a topper, it is very comfortable. 

*A stack of glasses smashed, right out of the cupboard -- one's left. 

*Let a bit of produce spoil. Not much -- half an onion, some greens, but still...we did better this month on eating up leftovers before they went to the Great Trash Can in the Sky.

*Bought two play tickets for Pirates of Penzance that never got used. (Our guests got Covid.) Ironically, that play may have been where we picked this up for ourselves...


*'Rented' a car from friends, for the Black Canyon Quilt Show. (I also washed and detailed their car, to say thank you.)

*Paid for 100 Colorado Curiosities and Ghosts & Legends books -- yow, that totals up to a lot. At least we got a discount, free shipping and a wire rack for display. But still...




*Stocks are doing better -- but they're nowhere near what they should be at this point. I am still under my original purchase price on several. It's nice to have the dividend payments, and I bought additional shares for less.

*Missed out on several events, including a wedding reception for friends. Covid will do that to you. (sigh)

*I am still trying to figure out a way to justify adding Mr. Bean and Teddy to our happy home.



Here's last month's report -- and last year's.  Please, let August be cooler. Hopefully.





Sunday, July 24, 2022

Monday Stuff On the Way to Other Stuff: Heated Thoughts

     Another glorious week in the history of the Bricks. Really, it's not been too bad, except for the heat and staying put, due to Covid. I make do by sleeping a lot, watching movies with snow in them, and reading posts like this. Which the Brick thinks is pretty darn silly. (Not the sleeping part -- that's ok.) If it helps me feel cooler, why not? Running a fever while the temperature edges toward 100 degrees, you can almost feel your brain bubbling. (Maybe it was.) 

                              Update: We've both improved. Whew.

     Our faithful (air) mattress, which has been doing yeoman duty ever since we returned an expensive mattress, suddenly decided to start leaking this week...pretty miserable when you're both not feeling well, and your bed starts to deflate. Friday night, the Brick got a new Intex mattress (same brand as before), but it's twice as thick: about 26" high! When you add the topper, it may require a stool to be able to get into it. 

     I'm starting to feel like The Princess and the Pea.

Kerry Darlington illustration, via Pinterest.

Meanwhile:

Poor Ms. AOC. The Babylon Bee's got her number -- but not the key to her invisible cuffs.

Puff pastry you can make yourself?? Really?!?

Elvis' Graceland is going bust!

How Buffalo Wings got invented -- and became a hit from the start.

The Russian Navy has a new submarine, and it's a big one: the Belgorod.

Five key Viking discoveries in Great Britain -- and what they point to.

Things are not looking too good for Liz Cheney's primary chances. (Quite honestly, she's acting like she could care less. Insiders say she's hoping to run for president in 2024.)

"A whole bunch of things I should have known before my thirties." Some good hacks here. Salt in the oil, to keep it from splattering?? I didn't know that...

Ten writers who took themselves WAY too seriously.

I'm waiting to see what the town manager in Kenly, NC does, now that her police force, plus a few clerks, has quit in protest of her work atmosphere. 

A couple celebrates their 100th birthdays together...and their 79th anniversary. (She's the 'older woman' by ten days.)

Does high inflation trash the 4% Rule? (In case you're wondering, this is an assumption that you should only spend 4% of your total retirement each year. From Millenial-Revolution.)

Is DNA information being used to develop bio-weapons...that can kill specific people?? This guy says yes. (And he's on the right committee to know.) This, quite frankly, is why I do NOT answer Ancestry.com's health questions. 

The New York Times is now printing that there's a time and place for cannabilism....like now? Okay, it didn't recommend the practice -- it just quoted people who did:

The piece provided a showcase for a set of interesting quotes from the creators of Yellowjackets, a Showtime series featuring graphic scenes of cannibalism. Co-creator Ashley Lyle explained her inspiration for the show, saying, "I think we’re often drawn to the things that repulse us the most."

Her creative partner Bart Nickerson added, "But I keep coming back to this idea of, what portion of our revulsion to these things is a fear of the ecstasy of them?"

"Ecstasy??" Hmmmm...

The outlines of a 17th century garden in England reappear...thanks to the current heatwave. (And no watering, I would guess.)

An Indian government minister drinks water from a 'holy' river, contaminated by all sorts of things, to prove that it's just fine -- and ends up in the hospital. Oops. 

     I would make more fun of this -- but have a mental image of myself meditatively drinking a metal cup of water out of a lovely creek in the Blue Ridge Mountains. And being sick as a dog for the next week. (Giardia. I'm not always the brightest crayon in the box.)

A Patagonian ice dragon. Wonders never cease. 

A Brooklyn, NY bishop gets robbed of his jewelry -- halfway through his sermon! (His wife and other churchgoers lose some, too.)

Sous vide burgers -- boiling them first, before you fry them??

This is a weird one. An artist installation includes 15 goldfish, each encased in a single IV bag hanging from the ceiling. The only problem: the goldfish keep dying. The installation is removed after visitors complain, but the artist says he MEANT for that to happen!  He includes dead bugs and insects in other art...I'm just waiting for him to integrate human bits and pieces, as well. Hey, "parts is parts."



Nine ways to use last Christmas's decor this year.  I would hope so! Are there really people out there that ditch everything and start over, come December 1st?  (From Thistlewood Farms)

It sounded and felt like a paranormal event -- but it wasn't. 

Budget-friendly bean tostadas -- easy for summer.  (From Kitchen Stewardship)

Weird true stories, from a mortuary worker. My favorite: she says that a number of families have asked to put a cigarette in the hand of bodies destined for the crematory. Hmmm...

Chicken surfing -- the new sport??


A California road trip, courtesy of Retire By 40.  (I must be getting antsy.)

"What's your favorite I'm broke/struggling/discouraged meal?" Quora readers come through again.

'Impossibly easy' coconut pie. 

How much are the Golden Hollywood stars worth? Stick around, and you'll see some great candid photos, too, in the next article.


Have a good week. Stay cool, calm and collected. And Covid-free.




Saturday, July 23, 2022

And You Thought Begging for Money Was New...

 "The Begging Letter-Writer" was published by Charles Dickens in his 'Household Words' magazine on March 18, 1850. 

      After reading this -- how do you think he would have felt about GoFundMe? 

 (Yeah - me, too.)



The amount of money, Dickens wrote, he annually diverts from wholesome and useful purposes in the United Kingdom, would be a set-off against the Window Tax. He is one of the most shameless frauds and impositions of this time. In his idleness, his mendacity, and the immeasurable harm he does to the deserving, - dirtying the stream of true benevolence, and muddling the brains of foolish justices, with inability to distinguish between the base coin of distress, and the true currency we have always among us, - he is more worthy of Norfolk Island than three-fourths of the worst characters who are sent there. Under any rational system, he would have been sent there long ago.

I, the writer of this paper, have been, for some time, a chosen receiver of Begging Letters. For fourteen years, my house has been made as regular a Receiving House for such communications as any one of the great branch Post-Offices is for general correspondence. I ought to know something of the Begging-Letter Writer. He has besieged my door at all hours of the day and night; he has fought my servant; he has lain in ambush for me, going out and coming in; he has followed me out of town into the country; he has appeared at provincial hotels, where I have been staying for only a few hours; he has written to me from immense distances, when I have been out of England. He has fallen sick; he has died and been buried; he has come to life again, and again departed from this transitory scene: he has been his own son, his own mother, his own baby, his idiot brother, his uncle, his aunt, his aged grandfather. He has wanted a greatcoat, to go to India in; a pound to set him up in life for ever; a pair of boots to take him to the coast of China; a hat to get him into a permanent situation under Government. He has frequently been exactly seven-and-sixpence short of independence. He has had such openings at Liverpool - posts of great trust and confidence in merchants' houses, which nothing but seven-and-sixpence was wanting to him to secure - that I wonder he is not Mayor of that flourishing town at the present moment.

The natural phenomena of which he has been the victim, are of a most astounding nature. He has had two children who have never grown up; who have never had anything to cover them at night; who have been continually driving him mad, by asking in vain for food; who have never come out of fevers and measles (which, I suppose, has accounted for his fuming his letters with tobacco smoke, as a disinfectant); who have never changed in the least degree through fourteen long revolving years. As to his wife, what that suffering woman has undergone, nobody knows. She has always been in an interesting situation through the same long period, and has never been confined yet. His devotion to her has been unceasing. He has never cared for himself; he could have perished - he would rather, in short - but was it not his Christian duty as a man, a husband, and a father, - to write begging letters when he looked at her? (He has usually remarked that he would call in the evening for an answer to this question.)

He has been the sport of the strangest misfortunes. What his brother has done to him would have broken anybody else's heart. His brother went into business with him, and ran away with the money; his brother got him to be security for an immense sum and left him to pay it; his brother would have given him employment to the tune of hundreds a-year, if he would have consented to write letters on a Sunday; his brother enunciated principles incompatible with his religious views, and he could not (in consequence) permit his brother to provide for him. His landlord has never shown a spark of human feeling. When he put in that execution I don't know, but he has never taken it out. The broker's man has grown grey in possession. They will have to bury him some day.

He has been attached to every conceivable pursuit. He has been in the army, in the navy, in the church, in the law; connected with the press, the fine arts, public institutions, every description and grade of business. He has been brought up as a gentleman; he has been at every college in Oxford and Cambridge; he can quote Latin in his letters (but generally misspells some minor English word); he can tell you what Shakespeare says about begging, better than you know it. It is to be observed, that in the midst of his afflictions he always reads the newspapers; and rounds off his appeal with some allusion, that may be supposed to be in my way, to the popular subject of the hour.

His life presents a series of inconsistencies. Sometimes he has never written such a letter before. He blushes with shame. That is the first time; that shall be the last. Don't answer it, and let it be understood that, then, he will kill himself quietly. Sometimes (and more frequently) he has written a few such letters. Then he encloses the answers, with an intimation that they are of inestimable value to him, and a request that they may be carefully returned. He is fond of enclosing something - verses, letters, pawnbrokers' duplicates, anything to necessitate an answer. He is very severe upon 'the pampered minion of fortune,' who refused him the half-sovereign referred to in the enclosure number two - but he knows me better.

He writes in a variety of styles; sometimes in low spirits; sometimes quite jocosely. When he is in low spirits he writes down-hill and repeats words - these little indications being expressive of the perturbation of his mind. When he is more vivacious, he is frank with me; he is quite the agreeable rattle. I know what human nature is, - who better? Well! He had a little money once, and he ran through it - as many men have done before him. He finds his old friends turn away from him now - many men have done that before him too! Shall he tell me why he writes to me? Because he has no kind of claim upon me. He puts it on that ground plainly; and begs to ask for the loan (as I know human nature) of two sovereigns, to be repaid next Tuesday six weeks, before twelve at noon.

Sometimes, when he is sure that I have found him out, and that there is no chance of money, he writes to inform me that I have got rid of him at last. He has enlisted into the Company's service, and is off directly - but he wants a cheese. He is informed by the serjeant that it is essential to his prospects in the regiment that he should take out a single Gloucester cheese, weighing from twelve to fifteen pounds. Eight or nine shillings would buy it. He does not ask for money, after what has passed; but if he calls at nine, to-morrow morning may he hope to find a cheese? And is there anything he can do to show his gratitude in Bengal?

Once he wrote me rather a special letter, proposing relief in kind. He had got into a little trouble by leaving parcels of mud done up in brown paper, at people's houses, on pretence of being a Railway-Porter, in which character he received carriage money. This sportive fancy he expiated in the House of Correction. Not long after his release, and on a Sunday morning, he called with a letter (having first dusted himself all over), in which he gave me to understand that, being resolved to earn an honest livelihood, he had been travelling about the country with a cart of crockery. That he had been doing pretty well until the day before, when his horse had dropped down dead near Chatham, in Kent. That this had reduced him to the unpleasant necessity of getting into the shafts himself, and drawing the cart of crockery to London - a somewhat exhausting pull of thirty miles. That he did not venture to ask again for money; but that if I would have the goodness to leave him out a donkey, he would call for the animal before breakfast!

At another time my friend (I am describing actual experiences) introduced himself as a literary gentleman in the last extremity of distress. He had had a play accepted at a certain Theatre - which was really open; its representation was delayed by the indisposition of a leading actor - who was really ill; and he and his were in a state of absolute starvation. If he made his necessities known to the Manager of the Theatre, he put it to me to say what kind of treatment he might expect? Well! we got over that difficulty to our mutual satisfaction. A little while afterwards he was in some other strait. I think Mrs. Southcote, his wife, was in extremity - and we adjusted that point too. A little while afterwards he had taken a new house, and was going headlong to ruin for want of a water-butt. I had my misgivings about the water-butt, and did not reply to that epistle. But a little while afterwards, I had reason to feel penitent for my neglect. He wrote me a few broken-hearted lines, informing me that the dear partner of his sorrows died in his arms last night at nine o'clock!

I despatched a trusty messenger to comfort the bereaved mourner and his poor children; but the messenger went so soon, that the play was not ready to be played out; my friend was not at home, and his wife was in a most delightful state of health. He was taken up by the Mendicity Society (informally it afterwards appeared), and I presented myself at a London Police-Office with my testimony against him. The Magistrate was wonderfully struck by his educational acquirements, deeply impressed by the excellence of his letters, exceedingly sorry to see a man of his attainments there, complimented him highly on his powers of composition, and was quite charmed to have the agreeable duty of discharging him. A collection was made for the 'poor fellow,' as he was called in the reports, and I left the court with a comfortable sense of being universally regarded as a sort of monster. Next day comes to me a friend of mine, the governor of a large prison. 'Why did you ever go to the Police-Office against that man,' says he, 'without coming to me first? I know all about him and his frauds. He lodged in the house of one of my warders, at the very time when he first wrote to you; and then he was eating spring-lamb at eighteen-pence a pound, and early asparagus at I don't know how much a bundle!' On that very same day, and in that very same hour, my injured gentleman wrote a solemn address to me, demanding to know what compensation I proposed to make him for his having passed the night in a 'loathsome dungeon.' And next morning an Irish gentleman, a member of the same fraternity, who had read the case, and was very well persuaded I should be chary of going to that Police-Office again, positively refused to leave my door for less than a sovereign, and, resolved to besiege me into compliance, literally 'sat down' before it for ten mortal hours. The garrison being well provisioned, I remained within the walls; and he raised the siege at midnight with a prodigious alarum on the bell.

The Begging-Letter Writer often has an extensive circle of acquaintance. Whole pages of the 'Court Guide' are ready to be references for him. Noblemen and gentlemen write to say there never was such a man for probity and virtue. They have known him time out of mind, and there is nothing they wouldn't do for him. Somehow, they don't give him that one pound ten he stands in need of; but perhaps it is not enough - they want to do more, and his modesty will not allow it. It is to be remarked of his trade that it is a very fascinating one. He never leaves it; and those who are near to him become smitten with a love of it, too, and sooner or later set up for themselves. He employs a messenger - man, woman, or child. That messenger is certain ultimately to become an independent Begging-Letter Writer. His sons and daughters succeed to his calling, and write begging-letters when he is no more. He throws off the infection of begging-letter writing, like the contagion of disease. What Sydney Smith so happily called 'the dangerous luxury of dishonesty' is more tempting, and more catching, it would seem, in this instance than in any other.

He always belongs to a Corresponding-Society of Begging-Letter Writers. Any one who will, may ascertain this fact. Give money to-day in recognition of a begging-letter, - no matter how unlike a common begging-letter, - and for the next fortnight you will have a rush of such communications. Steadily refuse to give; and the begging-letters become Angels' visits, until the Society is from some cause or other in a dull way of business, and may as well try you as anybody else. It is of little use inquiring into the Begging-Letter Writer's circumstances. He may be sometimes accidentally found out, as in the case already mentioned (though that was not the first inquiry made); but apparent misery is always a part of his trade, and real misery very often is, in the intervals of spring-lamb and early asparagus. It is naturally an incident of his dissipated and dishonest life.

That the calling is a successful one, and that large sums of money are gained by it, must be evident to anybody who reads the Police Reports of such cases. But, prosecutions are of rare occurrence, relatively to the extent to which the trade is carried on. The cause of this is to be found (as no one knows better than the Begging-Letter Writer, for it is a part of his speculation) in the aversion people feel to exhibit themselves as having been imposed upon, or as having weakly gratified their consciences with a lazy, flimsy substitute for the noblest of all virtues. There is a man at large, at the moment when this paper is preparing for the press (on the 29th of April, 1850), and never once taken up yet, who, within these twelvemonths, has been probably the most audacious and the most successful swindler that even this trade has ever known. There has been something singularly base in this fellow's proceedings; it has been his business to write to all sorts and conditions of people, in the names of persons of high reputation and unblemished honour, professing to be in distress - the general admiration and respect for whom has ensured a ready and generous reply.

Now, in the hope that the results of the real experience of a real person may do something more to induce reflection on this subject than any abstract treatise - and with a personal knowledge of the extent to which the Begging-Letter Trade has been carried on for some time, and has been for some time constantly increasing - the writer of this paper entreats the attention of his readers to a few concluding words. His experience is a type of the experience of many; some on a smaller, some on an infinitely larger scale. All may judge of the soundness or unsoundness of his conclusions from it.

Long doubtful of the efficacy of such assistance in any case whatever, and able to recall but one, within his whole individual knowledge, in which he had the least after-reason to suppose that any good was done by it, he was led, last autumn, into some serious considerations. The begging-letters flying about by every post, made it perfectly manifest that a set of lazy vagabonds were interposed between the general desire to do something to relieve the sickness and misery under which the poor were suffering, and the suffering poor themselves. That many who sought to do some little to repair the social wrongs, inflicted in the way of preventible sickness and death upon the poor, were strengthening those wrongs, however innocently, by wasting money on pestilent knaves cumbering society. That imagination, - soberly following one of these knaves into his life of punishment in jail, and comparing it with the life of one of these poor in a cholera-stricken alley, or one of the children of one of these poor, soothed in its dying hour by the late lamented Mr. Drouet, - contemplated a grim farce, impossible to be presented very much longer before God or man. That the crowning miracle of all the miracles summed up in the New Testament, after the miracle of the blind seeing, and the lame walking, and the restoration of the dead to life, was the miracle that the poor had the Gospel preached to them. That while the poor were unnaturally and unnecessarily cut off by the thousand, in the prematurity of their age, or in the rottenness of their youth - for of flower or blossom such youth has none - the Gospel was not preached to them, saving in hollow and unmeaning voices. That of all wrongs, this was the first mighty wrong the Pestilence warned us to set right. And that no Post-Office Order to any amount, given to a Begging-Letter Writer for the quieting of an uneasy breast, would be presentable on the Last Great Day as anything towards it.

The poor never write these letters. Nothing could be more unlike their habits. The writers are public robbers; and we who support them are parties to their depredations. They trade upon every circumstance within their knowledge that affects us, public or private, joyful or sorrowful; they pervert the lessons of our lives; they change what ought to be our strength and virtue into weakness, and encouragement of vice. There is a plain remedy, and it is in our own hands. We must resolve, at any sacrifice of feeling, to be deaf to such appeals, and crush the trade.

There are degrees in murder. Life must be held sacred among us in more ways than one - sacred, not merely from the murderous weapon, or the subtle poison, or the cruel blow, but sacred from preventible diseases, distortions, and pains. That is the first great end we have to set against this miserable imposition. Physical life respected, moral life comes next. What will not content a Begging-Letter Writer for a week, would educate a score of children for a year. Let us give all we can; let us give more than ever. Let us do all we can; let us do more than ever. But let us give, and do, with a high purpose; not to endow the scum of the earth, to its own greater corruption, with the offals of our duty.



 Quora people are starting to reach toward this high and mighty goal. Who knows -- they might reach it. 

    But not with my money.




Friday, July 22, 2022

Okayyyyy....

" I got saved during a blizzard in the Alps by a big purple cow...


I was skiing in the Alps with some friends and we were off piste doing some jumps and stuff. I was at the back of the group and fell and twisted my knee (not quite) landing a jump. Managed to get myself a bit lost as a blizzard set in and I couldn't see s**t. Carefully scrabbled around on my dodgy knee for a bit and thought I was about to end up in a fair amount of trouble.
Then, out of the snow appeared my purple angel. A purple shape coming out of the blizzard, which as it got closer appeared to be an upright purple cow on skis.
Turns out, it was the Milka chocolate mascot, a guy dressed in a purple cow costume on skiing about the hills dishing out chocolate.
He skied right up to me and said "Hey man, you ok? You want some chocolate?"
He then skied back to the piste with me and took me to the nearest bar to get a beer.
Guess who else is in the bar! My friends who were getting increasingly concerned that they'd lost me! Milka man dished out some more chocolate to everyone and skied off never to be seen again.
Thank you purple cow angel, you saved me that day and gave me chocolate!"


More hard-to-believe stories here, courtesy of Bored Panda.




Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Achoo!

     I would like to tell you that all is hunky-dory here at Chez Brick. But it is not.

     I came home last week to the Brick not feeling that well, Within a few days, he was running a fever, moaning a lot and coughing like crazy. He also had a sore throat, which meant serving soft foods. And resting a lot. I'm grateful for series like Endeavour, which doesn't take much more than brainpower to follow. (We don't always know what they're saying -- Britspeak -- but can usually figure it out.)




Plus canned soups, sandwiches, Wheat Thins (with swiss cheese) and dried miso soup blends. 

     Today, it was my turn. 

     I woke up jammed against the headboard -- our air mattress decided to give up the ghost. (Probably got tired of listening to both of us cough, sneeze and thrash around.) My throat hurts. A permanent headache seems to have moved in. And of course, it's still hot hot HOT, in spite of a blessed afternoon rainshower. 

     The only good thing: this means I get to stay home and work on the huge pile of appraisals that needs to be done, after the Black Canyon Quilt Show -- and before that. 

     The only bad part: neither of us feels like cooking, but turning on the oven means heating up the trailer to an uncomfortable degree. Putting stuff away is on the back burner, as well -- so our place looks like a warehouse, rather than a living space.

     I pulled out a jar of bulgur for supper-- I can make that ahead of time, and mix it with garlic, lemon and veggies. Plus something else, protein-wise. 

    The Brick is feeling better...and ordering a new mattress.  Hopefully, I will feel better too, soon. We've got stuff to do.





Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Well, There Could Be Worse Things To Do...

 


I went looking for this, and found it. Surprisingly calming! You may need to go to Youtube to see it; just click 'watch on Youtube.'

Ahhhhh....Shirley in Washington, this one's for you.




Sunday, July 17, 2022

Monday Stuff On the Way to Other Stuff: HOME

      Got back late Friday night from a most interesting week at the Black Canyon Quilt Show in Montrose. I judged the show with David Taylor, extraordinary quiltman and a great judge, to boot. We viewed the important things much the same -- so it was a real pleasure to work with him. David's won a number of national prizes, including his work in animal quilts. Here's his latest...it's called Welcome Home. 


So many thanks to the many wonderful people I met, including Susan and Bruce (and Rico!); Betty and Pam; Mary; Caroline; Gail; and Cindy, a fellow appraiser who came up from Albuquerque to help out. And David -- any time you need a fellow judge or teacher, I'm your girl. 

     Getting to the show wasn't too bad, though it meant more than 5 hours of steady driving. (Montrose is on the Western Slope, not that far from Palisade or Olathe.) Coming back was a different story. Glenwood Canyon had flooded and subsequently closed -- which meant I got rerouted through several different mountain passes. Sounds great, right? Not when you have to drive literally hours out of the way...including waiting in line at least 30 min. for the crew to clear away rockfall. (Unfortunately, the vast majority of 'working' crew meant they were putting away stuff for the weekend -- and/or standing around.) 

     I had a commitment Friday night in Denver -- and was two hours late for it. Sigh. But at least I got HOME.

     The Montrose show was really a combined effort of three guilds -- whose skills were amazing. They had a nice mix of piecing and applique, and I was quite surprised (and pleased) with their work with pictorials...even panels, mixed, cut and matched with other patchworks. 

     You go, girls. (And men, too.) Keep up the good work! 


Here's their 2022 raffle quilt, A New Garden. The photo really doesn't reveal the intricate flower motifs -- or the thick quilting on this lovely piece. You can buy tickets here. 

    This week, I've got a ton of appraisals to catch up on, a soaking pool to set up (a stock tank borrowed from our friends)...and some sleep to catch up on. Meanwhile:


'Do you want to play?' Type words in this A1 site...and get images back

Several birdies make for a come-from-behind win at the 150th Open golf tournament.

Living in a shed from Home Depot -- getting out of debt, then selling it for a profit.

President Biden's ten more interesting (ahem) gaffes. Whoops.

An antique-looking plaster wall finish -- done with drywall mud.  (From Thistlewood Farms)

Giant cinnamon rolls -- to make yourself.

This report about President Biden's bleak future is from the... New York Times?!?

Nightgowns from old pillowcases. Think how light and airy these will be...

"How do you know if someone is secretly wealthy?" Fascinating Quora answers -- but really, much of it is "Millionaire Next Door" stuff.


The most hated movie characters of all time. 

A Viking era gold ring -- found in a pile of costume jewelry the buyer purchased online. Yow!

Weird shoppers. (Of course, you've probably seen some strange ones yourself. When I worked at Walmart years ago, friends who checked on the late shift used to talk about the guy who came in wearing fishnet stockings, and abundant chest hair through his low v-necks.)

    I wasn't online nearly all week, so entries are sparse. I'll do better this coming week. 

Have a good one. Stay cool.





You Go, Kids!

  More great 'wholesome' posts via Bored Panda .. .