tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35492579087711129512024-02-07T20:14:01.933-08:00Carpe Diem LifedkWellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14036130304612683613noreply@blogger.comBlogger461125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-52609952506443893822021-03-22T06:22:00.002-07:002021-03-22T14:45:45.526-07:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIbKrZpFcGFhVSz1kn0C9ylKe1uTXxl23Oj92fklGMzHKpVyVqqP9E4sdqDaFca6YvbE3mAwYdvfPEjVqparWg0Eljr4Uc2deL8t8U4o3HijBroTbmu7EkE3ZEFp-vUPHClDPnCQHSu30/s775/image001.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="775" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIbKrZpFcGFhVSz1kn0C9ylKe1uTXxl23Oj92fklGMzHKpVyVqqP9E4sdqDaFca6YvbE3mAwYdvfPEjVqparWg0Eljr4Uc2deL8t8U4o3HijBroTbmu7EkE3ZEFp-vUPHClDPnCQHSu30/w593-h554/image001.png" width="593" /></a></div><br /> Carpe diem Life,<p></p><p>David Kuhn <br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-7050053008130929432021-03-09T12:47:00.000-08:002021-03-09T12:47:00.627-08:00Joining the Cancel Culture<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>According to The Cambridge Dictionary, Cancel Culture is a way of behaving in a society or group, especially on social media, in which it is common to completely reject and stop supporting someone because they have said or done something that offends you.<br /><br />Okay, so no one specifically has said or done something that offends me; However, I do believe that it’s time to cancel something: winter! <br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBOGlkzquO7FoeUIXTjOX8gftzRA720ObgsX2fJtYyHzArFMK7FOZO7quAHjZ4GkXQlgyP0wf0xiMKO0qyGmqsax6QdkWuqIxu3IIzTjLi1xd6mefTpWwrrbWZXCja3XgSegZqZTMhCqU/s2048/20210309_143619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBOGlkzquO7FoeUIXTjOX8gftzRA720ObgsX2fJtYyHzArFMK7FOZO7quAHjZ4GkXQlgyP0wf0xiMKO0qyGmqsax6QdkWuqIxu3IIzTjLi1xd6mefTpWwrrbWZXCja3XgSegZqZTMhCqU/w273-h364/20210309_143619.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” — Pablo Neruda<br /><br />A
year ago at this time we were just coming to grips with the reality of
COVID-19. Obviously, no one could predict the historic craziness that
became 2020. It was like a comment Suzanne and I overheard at a dinner
the other night from someone up at the bar, “That shit comes with a dark
cloud!” (I don’t have a clue what he was referring to; I just liked the
line). <br /><br />Now, days are longer.<br />Nights are warmer.<br />Spring is coming.<br /><br />“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” — Margaret Atwood<br /><br />Time to hit the delete button on winter, log off, log on to spring, and smell like dirt! <br /><br />Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-75867794989082068622021-03-02T15:20:00.001-08:002021-03-02T15:20:35.708-08:00Letting Go<div style="text-align: left;">I recently taught my grandson to ride a bicycle. Training wheels off. Riding. On two wheels. Like the big kids. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">This was NOT an easy task. We've been at this on and off since last year
when the parents decided that it was time. The training wheels came
off one day and that was that. It didn't go over well then and it
certainly didn't start well this time.<br /><br />Fear!<br /><br />Fear of falling. Fear of getting hurt. Fear of failing. Fear of being made fun of.<br /><br />"I'll <u>never </u>be able to do this! I want my training wheels back on. . . NOW!"<br /><br />After
many attempts at the high school parking lot, we decided to pack it up
and head to a playground and enjoy the rest of the day. After he played
for a half-hour or so -- and watched kids riding bike on the nearby bike
path -- he came over to me: "Grandpa, let's get the bike out and try
again."<br /> <br />And try we did.<br /> <br />This time there was no fuss. And if there was fear, it was Feeling Excited And Ready. <br /> <br />After
only a few times up and down the path -- with my holding on and running
beside him the best I could -- I let go. When he stopped a little bit
down the bike path and looked back, he realized that I let go some time
back. The emotion was sheer joy, "Grandpa, I DID IT!" <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjIh9QTKWdpl7CwSEuy_rRI7iHur24P9bUjngZBpG6CA0cFObbF0fzdtueU4KlaM27QT2hekw6wyXzapGHkQccxSzCgTmNJa5UJnTaLex8sjn1Gip7QvTTxQVW23yBksitXI0w7y-uyXB/s478/Screen+Shot+2021-03-02+at+4.46.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjIh9QTKWdpl7CwSEuy_rRI7iHur24P9bUjngZBpG6CA0cFObbF0fzdtueU4KlaM27QT2hekw6wyXzapGHkQccxSzCgTmNJa5UJnTaLex8sjn1Gip7QvTTxQVW23yBksitXI0w7y-uyXB/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-03-02+at+4.46.14+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>After that, all I did was help him get started from time to time and he was off, "I'm riding like the wind!" And then, excitedly from a distance, "Grandpa, I don't need you anymore!"<br /><br />I knew what he meant. I also knew that he really didn't need me anymore -- not for this task, anyway. <br /><br />I guess we both got over our fears: He got over his fear of riding; I got over my fear of letting go. <br /><br />I wonder if that's how my Grandma Louie felt? <br /> <br />Who taught you how to ride like the wind?<br /> <br />Carpe Diem Live,<br />David Kuhn <br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> </div> <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-20985965999455623032021-02-22T10:49:00.004-08:002021-02-22T10:49:31.407-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPJESTAfLlbxDdyieo71BFWCeKxpkYoLwjmMk6CUt3kwHXf0oJW9IEabLFAT6WpFfWVV43cQeSoI7kn0AV8gdSWnWI8LH7iJM9clnMI77af9FpVkQ5V5tN8CH60QYDyu74mvQW5GF9EA2/s2048/Roots+jpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1583" height="873" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPJESTAfLlbxDdyieo71BFWCeKxpkYoLwjmMk6CUt3kwHXf0oJW9IEabLFAT6WpFfWVV43cQeSoI7kn0AV8gdSWnWI8LH7iJM9clnMI77af9FpVkQ5V5tN8CH60QYDyu74mvQW5GF9EA2/w676-h873/Roots+jpeg.jpg" width="676" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><p></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-83197842466244617512021-02-16T06:39:00.000-08:002021-02-16T06:39:14.650-08:00Snow Thoughts <p>There is something about snow that always brings me back to my childhood: I could not wait to put a couple of bread sacks between two layers of socks and get out in it. Out in it till the point that I couldn’t wait to get back in the warm house -- hours and hours later. <br /><br />This morning, as I looked out the window at the current wonderland, I saw them: Snow Diamonds = ice crystals sparkling in the sunshine. Interesting, at least to me, is how only a handful of crystals choose to sparkle for me at any given time. Out of thousands of square yards of snow blanketing the backyard and field behinds us, only a handful of “diamonds” sparkle at any given time. I see them as tiny glimmers (reminders) that there is still beauty in this world. <br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEdGiJ3zGQkO4GaSEsQN98yMTgkOM7hZJ7NWmU_n7Sn0Fq0ItJ7d2541T1EvSNUyjJ3FTHgRWLc65z_TN7pCn6Nmz1QT4Hi9CL63iiXfJVKkqLy3HSOePmKxEa_Jh3Sox7Tl_D28DWILY/s421/Screen+Shot+2021-02-16+at+8.19.29+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="318" data-original-width="421" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEdGiJ3zGQkO4GaSEsQN98yMTgkOM7hZJ7NWmU_n7Sn0Fq0ItJ7d2541T1EvSNUyjJ3FTHgRWLc65z_TN7pCn6Nmz1QT4Hi9CL63iiXfJVKkqLy3HSOePmKxEa_Jh3Sox7Tl_D28DWILY/w408-h309/Screen+Shot+2021-02-16+at+8.19.29+AM.png" width="408" /></a></div><p></p>We’ve been reminded over and over this past year that, as Sara
Raasch is quoted, “Even the strongest blizzards start with a single
snowflake.” A blizzard started with a virus, a blizzard started with a
brutal killing, a blizzard started with words . . . <br /><br />Blizzards
disrupt our lives. Blizzards put our lives at a standstill. But, when
the blizzard is over and the sun shines, there are glimmers of hope. <br /><br />Blizzards
offer of day or two of slowing down -- giving us time to reflect our
inner light — or at least a reflection on how we can offer little
“diamonds” to brighten the lives of our fellow “flakes” in this
sometimes frozen world.<br /><br />In the meantime, <br />WATCH OUT WHERE THE HUSKIES GO<br />AN' DON'T YOU EAT THAT YELLOW SNOW<br /> -- Frank Zappa<br /><br />Do people still save bread sacks for playing in the snow?<br /><br />Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-36433063374903603362021-02-09T09:18:00.003-08:002021-02-09T09:18:53.972-08:00Super Bowl, Collecting, Stuff . . . <div style="text-align: left;">Well, I broke down and watched the Super Bowl. Tradition. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">A few of takeaways: </div><div style="text-align: left;">1) I haven't really missed anything all year.</div><div style="text-align: left;">2) The NFL is spending hundreds of millions of dollars to try to correct something -- though I'm not sure where all the money is going.</div><div style="text-align: left;">3) The halftime show was ???</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I used to love professional sports. Even to the point that collecting baseball cards was a major passion of mine. A short story:</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">When I was maybe twelve, I read an ad in the back of a comic book. Send in money for postage, and someone by the name of Ken M (last name withheld to protect the innocent) would send you his HUGE catalog full of comic books, non-sport cards, sports cards, etc. So, I did. What I receive was AMAZING. Some of it typed, single spaced, two-sided pages and others hand-written -- FULL of stuff you could buy. That started a several year love affair with Mr. M and his amazing catalogs. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We'd work our tails off around the house and neighborhood to earn money to send off for a cards. Then, a few weeks later, a small box would arrive full of cards. A lot of it really old and now somewhat valuable. Including early Topps Jackie Robinson, Ted Williams, Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays . . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For once in my life, I was the kid who had access to a gold mine of treasure that none of my "rich" friends had -- and I certainly wasn't sharing that information! Okay, I did share with a few close friends. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Turn the page to this past December. I was visiting one of those old friends and asked if he remembered Ken M. "Not only that, I'm sure I still have one of his catalogs in a box in the attic!" Off we went. Not only did he find one, hen he handed it to me, I saw that it was addressed to me. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGtE3AQZUK6XyyRVOqCvYXbOLjboDVRvV0ADbub6EDCmUCMPhfu0nK77_F8Ii2k8bQT369mAzm64lFJ5zDYVIYtvQlJl6rHXCe0S59ZH4cj1DQh4FG3FynTrA96lmPrqQ9cOTtwJeyOPw/s941/Screen+Shot+2021-02-09+at+11.10.47+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="941" data-original-width="574" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGtE3AQZUK6XyyRVOqCvYXbOLjboDVRvV0ADbub6EDCmUCMPhfu0nK77_F8Ii2k8bQT369mAzm64lFJ5zDYVIYtvQlJl6rHXCe0S59ZH4cj1DQh4FG3FynTrA96lmPrqQ9cOTtwJeyOPw/w379-h429/Screen+Shot+2021-02-09+at+11.10.47+AM.png" width="379" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was one of mine that I had shared with him in 1974. "I wonder if he's still alive?"</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">That question prompted an internet search and the finding of ONE Ken M. So, I wrote to him (if he were in fact the same man) to let me know how much he and his catalogs meant to me. Last week came the reply. YES! Mr. M is alive. He couldn't believe that "someone out there" still remembered him. Turns out that in the early 70s he was right out of the service and wanted to prove to his parents that he could start and run his own business. It didn't last long, but he said he still had a collection and building of stuff -- all to be turned into a museum. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Collections.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'm reminded of all this because my grandchildren are in town and they found this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dcY7u83OYhEH5I-qS-4wYDcdeE-ACocy1-WZei_uZpfsQhEf2y2Z_za3MAP5CTTgvWuW8redJ7uLo6DICdC-klMDFHj8ghTTxoYegWVl__HlI8fg9cD7SUVngtNZwznHg4FSPoxIKp-y/s2048/20210209_102509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dcY7u83OYhEH5I-qS-4wYDcdeE-ACocy1-WZei_uZpfsQhEf2y2Z_za3MAP5CTTgvWuW8redJ7uLo6DICdC-klMDFHj8ghTTxoYegWVl__HlI8fg9cD7SUVngtNZwznHg4FSPoxIKp-y/w379-h505/20210209_102509.jpg" width="379" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A box full of something else I collected years ago: PEZ. Maybe a couple of hundred. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Collections. At least for a few hours on this cold and icy day, providing enjoyment. Who knows, maybe some day all that stuff will end up in a museum?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">And what WAS up with that halftime show? <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn<br /></div><p> <br /></p><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-86365699198547769102021-02-01T12:18:00.000-08:002021-02-01T12:18:23.237-08:00Science<div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfud6i6BhVSYCO7I55wkulBV99hrSIiGpMMtl6S013_eYaapG9L9MICbsuOGr6qkr5lGcjjUsG0wVKk5AtH4wCZma39xnlA7cvHjWnTfZUwLIpeXGATEdpIH70ZMJX9cOTUwn5bVl00Mqe/s772/Screen+Shot+2021-02-01+at+2.13.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="663" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfud6i6BhVSYCO7I55wkulBV99hrSIiGpMMtl6S013_eYaapG9L9MICbsuOGr6qkr5lGcjjUsG0wVKk5AtH4wCZma39xnlA7cvHjWnTfZUwLIpeXGATEdpIH70ZMJX9cOTUwn5bVl00Mqe/w399-h464/Screen+Shot+2021-02-01+at+2.13.43+PM.png" width="399" /></a></div> Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, Science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science, science...</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /> </div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-66131657759614909622021-01-26T10:56:00.000-08:002021-01-26T10:56:54.446-08:00Think ON the box! <div style="text-align: left;">Well, I accidentally saw who was playing in the Super Bowl. I’ve successfully gone the entire season without watching a minute of the NFL. Will that change in a couple of Sundays? We shall see. Again, not a peaceful protest of professional sports (we know who peaceful protests turn out these days). More of a "what-can-I-do-instead" protest. </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />So,
I thought I introduce you to yet another Cigar Box Guitar build I’m
attempting. This one is long from finished, but I thought I’d show it
off — for the history of it. <br /> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIoWaSJMO30ZYWhej4XU-Ax-S6iSXT-DQRA0UawaXBnbS3K4w5pvr34M5js56De75j6BwCobjyfCttl6LYMFKN97NKLBFSqq2eUx8CUaPngC80eUhHEtHdskeMi8VeVmUEfM4ZKaUdtDSA/s2048/20210126_121426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIoWaSJMO30ZYWhej4XU-Ax-S6iSXT-DQRA0UawaXBnbS3K4w5pvr34M5js56De75j6BwCobjyfCttl6LYMFKN97NKLBFSqq2eUx8CUaPngC80eUhHEtHdskeMi8VeVmUEfM4ZKaUdtDSA/w302-h403/20210126_121426.jpg" width="302" /></a></div>Oh, the guitar itself will never make history, but the box offers a lot of Evansville history.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrMIh4rUb-TLEQLxem5NiRpHbHyX2cwC9Xy_bGoYCLfRstxBx9SaiG0dlhLR9dp0hABV2v0yVmXYyEEdvKYvi0u_CAe29U6lpnyQWN4Yox7kd3RyoQO8iZWGpkjjmoya_JUpo4aM45n_V/s814/Screen+Shot+2021-01-26+at+12.52.04+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="814" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrMIh4rUb-TLEQLxem5NiRpHbHyX2cwC9Xy_bGoYCLfRstxBx9SaiG0dlhLR9dp0hABV2v0yVmXYyEEdvKYvi0u_CAe29U6lpnyQWN4Yox7kd3RyoQO8iZWGpkjjmoya_JUpo4aM45n_V/w449-h351/Screen+Shot+2021-01-26+at+12.52.04+PM.png" width="449" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">First, it’s a H. Fendrich Cigar Company box. Est. in 1850, the Fendrich
factory once employed 1,500 people. The factory was shut down in
1969. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />One of their most iconic brands was Charles Denby. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjp-BO-EVRMpm_nEGDEN-SwFSIAgiswyxFVqNkBh9hOCtjTke7AhRj36u33G4HKNW9X0SyrRa5zy_tBJPSHF_6LaKDFtySNTrEDCAR8c_VliPEOinhnqIOCwTrzSM54rKElIna6J1IgW3/s2048/20210126_121433_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjp-BO-EVRMpm_nEGDEN-SwFSIAgiswyxFVqNkBh9hOCtjTke7AhRj36u33G4HKNW9X0SyrRa5zy_tBJPSHF_6LaKDFtySNTrEDCAR8c_VliPEOinhnqIOCwTrzSM54rKElIna6J1IgW3/w417-h313/20210126_121433_resized.jpg" width="417" /></a></div><br />Colonel Charles Denby (June 16, 1830 – January 13, 1904) was a U.S.
Union officer in the Civil War and diplomat to China. Evidently, he was
quite an individual. From the net: In 1853, he removed to Evansville,
Indiana, which remained his home until his death. Evansville was then a
town of six thousand inhabitants, which, from its position on the Ohio
River, at the terminus of the Wabash and Erie Canal, seemed destined to a
great development. At Evansville, Denby devoted himself to the study of
law and to newspaper work. He represented his county in the Indiana
House of Representatives during the session of 1856-57. <br /><br />Back to
the cigar box guitar I’m attempting a fretless slide guitar w/ a
piezo. I opted to make my own neck out of maple and walnut fret-less
board. Tuners were extra from a pack of six I bought for the last
build. I don’t know what I’m eventually going to do with the nut and
bridge. Like I said, it’s a work in progress. <br /><br />You all remain well out there. <br /><br />Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-20922622582864289862021-01-19T07:16:00.002-08:002021-01-19T07:16:49.793-08:00Mystery at the Museum (My Museum)<div style="text-align: left;">January is my month of purging. Though I rarely throw anything away -- or even better organize things for that matter -- it is, if nothing else, a trip down memory lane. The three hours I'm spending not watching NFL this season is giving me more time than ever to go through boxes of treasures.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">This very well could be the RAREST item in my collection: <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhBER3QYBHlHoUxlfp0hgovOM9MOE3NjylNqwyMUYvfn8B1NhfwYSiKEC9qfjuS-W-8pxu4tdISdzpIntdhW9k5HyUmEuXrClcVp7VYmgwghPp5mE5lLUkKT_PPRJZkOjMWggEu4FQGrJf/s2048/20210113_144239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhBER3QYBHlHoUxlfp0hgovOM9MOE3NjylNqwyMUYvfn8B1NhfwYSiKEC9qfjuS-W-8pxu4tdISdzpIntdhW9k5HyUmEuXrClcVp7VYmgwghPp5mE5lLUkKT_PPRJZkOjMWggEu4FQGrJf/w459-h344/20210113_144239.jpg" width="459" /></a></div><i>But, it’s just a ballpoint pen!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i> </i><br /> True. However, every item I've saved tells a story (even if I can’t remember what that story is now). This one is special!<br /><br />First of all, I believe the ballpoint pen changed the world — and not for the better. A pen was once a valuable and sacred object to be nurtured and cared for. You only had one, so you took great care of it. If you wanted to write, you needed your pen. Also, because pens were so messy, or at least potentially messy, you had better take your time. Be mindful.<br /><br />The ballpoint pen changed all that. It was so cheap it was even sold in multi-packs. They were so cheap that companies would put their names on them and give them away. Give them away! They seemed to multiply like Tribbles (A late-60s TV show reference). As a result, if you lost one, no bother. Just go get another one. <br /><br />Ballpoint pens were practically trouble-free, so you would write with reckless speed and abandon. Mindlessness — at least for me.<br /><br />And then there was the cap. It wasn’t secure. Caps routinely got taken off and placed somewhere — lost. No worries, the thing worked without one. Another cool feature about the ballpoint pen was that they could be turned into weapons: Take off the two end caps and pull out the ink cartridge and you have a spitball rifle barrel. <br /><br />So, as you can see, these things didn’t survive intact for very long. This brings me back to this particular object: This is the ONLY ballpoint pen I’ve ever owned that was purchased new, used all the ink, all while retaining all the original parts. The ONLY one. The ONLY one, to my knowledge, in the history of the world. Go ahead, ask around. I challenge you to find another one -- at least this old (mid 70s). <br /><br />Take a moment to look around your own life. How many pens do you see in your environment? <br /><br />Next time you pick a pen up, wonder about it. Slow down. Be mindful. <br /><br />Take a few minutes to study the history of pens and writing. It’s quite a story. And you’re looking at perhaps the most wondrous of them all!</div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn <br /><br /><br /> </div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-26491129800443390172021-01-12T07:40:00.005-08:002021-01-12T07:40:56.386-08:00The Joy of Un-Decorating Christmas<div style="text-align: left;"> Another Non-NFL story (this should be ending soon, right?).</div><p>Another holiday is behind us. Some would say different, but we've gone through different before. Christmas seems to be that one holiday that measures "different." Every Christmases is a "first" for something: Age-appropriate gifts change through the years, Grandparents pass away, spouses enter, kids enter, kids believe in Santa, kids stop believing in Santa, kids leave for college or careers, parents pass, a virus shows up instead of Santa, . . . </p><p>At some point, it's time to take down the decorations. That's what we did this weekend at my Mother-in-law's and at our house. A lot of people decorate with enthusiasm and undecorate with a sense of sadness and emptiness. I don't know, I rather enjoy the undecorating part as well. It's an affirmation that this is a new year. A new opportunity to do and discover new things. To continue practicing this thing we call life. </p><p>Happy New Year!</p><div style="text-align: left;">- - - <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Oh, I've had a very old cigar box lying around for years. I've looked at that thing and moved it out of my way so many times. It's even been in the donate pile. Still, I couldn't help thinking, "Someday, I'm going to do something with that!" This past week I did: </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This project presented plenty of <i>unplanned opportunities to come up with creative solutions</i>. Now, I just need to learn to play the darn thing. Yes, a new opportunity to do and discover new things. A new year to continue practicing this thing we call life. </div><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_g5aLY6Q3_vUN6EcMR3150DK9nChDWc0K84QlQItVNI4QfdexIuWPNPV5cPhgmVkEy2gn7q-aWl4HgeFXRCL4VwviTVIM6DsMNb40sNXnXNLcry9t879uft9YjgNNO73YcwqyVORnux0S/s2048/20210112_082053_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_g5aLY6Q3_vUN6EcMR3150DK9nChDWc0K84QlQItVNI4QfdexIuWPNPV5cPhgmVkEy2gn7q-aWl4HgeFXRCL4VwviTVIM6DsMNb40sNXnXNLcry9t879uft9YjgNNO73YcwqyVORnux0S/w332-h443/20210112_082053_resized.jpg" width="332" /></a></div>Carpe diem Life,<p></p><p>David Kuhn <br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-80838565750942409602021-01-05T07:39:00.002-08:002021-01-05T07:39:25.679-08:00gata and anagata <p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Happy New Year</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">2020 wasn't all that bad. Seriously. My commitment to not watching the news, following politics or pro sports, etc. paid off, I think. Some people might say I'm in the dark. Instead, I prefer to think of it as being in the light. At least my light and my immediate family's light.</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">So, I find myself at the trailhead of 2021. Time to, among other things, revisit one of my favorite books that I've honestly only read a few pages of: </span><em style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Walking One Step at a Time</span></em><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> by Erling Kagge.</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">According to Kagge, placing one foot in front of the other, embarking on the journey of discovery, and experiencing the joy of explorations -- these activities are intrinsic to our nature. Our ancestors traveled long distances on foot, gaining new experiences and learning from them. </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Language reflects the idea that life is one single walk: the word "journey" comes from the distance we travel in the course of a single day. Plus, walking is a natural accompaniment to creativity -- thinking.</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">In Sanskrit, one of the world's oldest languages, the past tense is designated as the word gata, "that which we have walked." The future is anagata, "that which we have not yet walked."</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eVkQ9b9UgK2v4T2nc7vDPNA3R-o60qxWto0rEWvnP49pv1dcvTkjhGYk79vNMuAIJMP5orSLJf1UcKlHaMDCjo5lRGP5rd_Oe0BBcOhabX2gEhpKrHJ7pQD7hoS-IooHuRYkwm4UobIz/s2048/20190212_135344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eVkQ9b9UgK2v4T2nc7vDPNA3R-o60qxWto0rEWvnP49pv1dcvTkjhGYk79vNMuAIJMP5orSLJf1UcKlHaMDCjo5lRGP5rd_Oe0BBcOhabX2gEhpKrHJ7pQD7hoS-IooHuRYkwm4UobIz/s320/20190212_135344.jpg" /></a></div><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;"> Carved this little guy on a hike last year (gata)</span></span><p></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> <br /></span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">This year I plan to embark on the journey of discovery and experience the joy of exploration -- in nature, learning music, working on a project in the shop, being with family and friends (eventually).</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Placing one foot in front of the other.</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Carpe diem Life,</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">David Kuhn <br /><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-76814821905210983002020-12-28T07:58:00.001-08:002020-12-28T07:58:19.347-08:00Merry Post and Pre<p>It's after Christmas and before New Year's. Just a few observations / status updates:</p><p>If I'm not mistaken, this is about the time of year that the NFL
Playoffs start. If you follow this blog, you know that I now don't care about donating my time to watching sports -- especially professional sports. Having said that, my mother-in-law did have a college basketball game
on the TV followed by a college football bowl game. I must say that I rather
enjoyed watching -- a little.<br /> <br />Now to this bombing event in
Nashville. Had the TV news on all day at work and I was not
surprised by the amount of speculation that was being disseminated as fact --
or potential fact -- by the networks. As it turned out, most of it
wrong. What amuses me the most is, no matter what the subject or who
the interviewee is, there is always this awkward exchange:<br /> <br />Interviewer
to the "special, exclusive to us" guest expert: "I'm sorry to interrupt
you. Of course, this is one of the most monumental events in the history
of the world; however, we're up on a hard break. We'll be back after
this." <br /> <br />FADE TO BLACK<br /><br />FADE UP ON KITCHEN PAN FULL OF BURNT GOOK<br /><br />ANNCR: "Has this ever happened to you? Are you tired of food sticking to your pans? Well, now there's . . . " <br /><br />- - - <br /><br />Suzanne
and I received our first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. I don't feel
confident enough to go around and licking doorknobs, but it's something.
<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YSjI2ob451p928BfMmKOHjmCV_YQWGeWjyuIFzyuB2RXrKVFlvWz8Bjv-kFsnKpjEjnllSKE4vCBKPIVkjThPzHFY6i-9SysX8qOM3dnfeYW4lYozcClNsFrsk8AKK87f3fdCNA9Q7Ns/s2048/20201228_091141_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YSjI2ob451p928BfMmKOHjmCV_YQWGeWjyuIFzyuB2RXrKVFlvWz8Bjv-kFsnKpjEjnllSKE4vCBKPIVkjThPzHFY6i-9SysX8qOM3dnfeYW4lYozcClNsFrsk8AKK87f3fdCNA9Q7Ns/w278-h371/20201228_091141_resized.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>Today, I got an early jump on making a 2021 list and organizing my to-do
lists (and when I say "making," I mean re-writing last year's, which
was a list from the previous list, which was . . .). Yes, so many
trivial things to do, so little time. But, at least I make a list.
Right? (Note to self, create a list that contains a list of all the
drawers, boxes, shelves, etc., that contains all the decades of lists
I've made). <br /><br />Anyway, I procured an old three-ring notebook to
contain one section of my 2021 list and opened it up. This is the
fortune from a fortune cookie that I must have taped to the inside years
ago: <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkxVRqjGnqL2kSfN7Dq70KLa3Hx2gzRJMNfNtS4WEFtng_3hyphenhyphenfZTxr9XWABSVszWhyphenhyphen9b2LkGikeVKCkFjcFGRs_RU-jiA5Itrl4-C_9XVsjWD_AZg8VzE7ZSITcTBkiamf3xbxIsewIPJ/s2048/20201228_091121_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="515" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkxVRqjGnqL2kSfN7Dq70KLa3Hx2gzRJMNfNtS4WEFtng_3hyphenhyphenfZTxr9XWABSVszWhyphenhyphen9b2LkGikeVKCkFjcFGRs_RU-jiA5Itrl4-C_9XVsjWD_AZg8VzE7ZSITcTBkiamf3xbxIsewIPJ/w386-h515/20201228_091121_resized.jpg" width="386" /></a></div>There is hope?<br /> <br />Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn <br /><br /><br /><br />David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-22656510122588186182020-12-22T09:08:00.000-08:002020-12-22T09:08:11.961-08:00Ramblings <div>This is an easy week to say that I didn't watch the NFL or College Football. For starters, I worked Saturday and Sunday. Then, there are Christmas gifts. <br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I've always tried to make a few gifts when I can. This year, I made three wooden trees for my girls and a friend. I also made ornaments for the grandkids. One has Garfield (the cat, not the old president) in it. Garfield is Annabeth's favorite. For little Mr. O, who is in his first year of Scouts, I gathered up some of my old scouting pins and such and filled a globe. <br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVVMxUidqqTAlvZ4lMzdDo7ekiVtm6ae5F65gwP88dfJqjATbHnEhrEsuijzkOLhsL7RR5SwYisK15T1H4q6Sh_13uIaUdQr7tXhpxpX0xWUWIUqJsL-TIXV96ACjFo59Ct7FH7-tXlCn/s2048/20201222_104058_resized.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVVMxUidqqTAlvZ4lMzdDo7ekiVtm6ae5F65gwP88dfJqjATbHnEhrEsuijzkOLhsL7RR5SwYisK15T1H4q6Sh_13uIaUdQr7tXhpxpX0xWUWIUqJsL-TIXV96ACjFo59Ct7FH7-tXlCn/w460-h345/20201222_104058_resized.jpg" width="460" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxsalPewcbPq-wsshtikcMye7NznJ5713Jk3Qw2quXgFxl5jqLe8NoGRmFVGKGow60cG3lcQcfr-AhCuuCFCOR9ZyhQ8Z3aCwRci8ashoRcnzhdMYE1NBTNdYOqvOPA5ME9iKhyphenhyphenhPt77c/s2048/20201222_104108_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxsalPewcbPq-wsshtikcMye7NznJ5713Jk3Qw2quXgFxl5jqLe8NoGRmFVGKGow60cG3lcQcfr-AhCuuCFCOR9ZyhQ8Z3aCwRci8ashoRcnzhdMYE1NBTNdYOqvOPA5ME9iKhyphenhyphenhPt77c/w452-h339/20201222_104108_resized.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><div>On the cigar box guitar front, I ended up making three. A one-string for a dear friend: <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxpYmHqt8ZGjbOqTZKa5R_U_3j9XvclrQe1fjBGJcuCod_EP2tz7lQQSwFlEC98k0XwTbTOp9RStJDk5BF5niPkLpq23Xp30JGtHDSlmeGxzpC7bOX7uiJGbyWWDfv4zdSmxET_wMVkz2/s2048/20201215_123823_resized.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxpYmHqt8ZGjbOqTZKa5R_U_3j9XvclrQe1fjBGJcuCod_EP2tz7lQQSwFlEC98k0XwTbTOp9RStJDk5BF5niPkLpq23Xp30JGtHDSlmeGxzpC7bOX7uiJGbyWWDfv4zdSmxET_wMVkz2/w333-h443/20201215_123823_resized.jpg" width="333" /></a></div>And a three-string (with logo that happens to be his last name): <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4OyHVsBRry5lyiP0rp6goLx_cXaZOdA3pLAecywBCVj-7HjLGuq5_63wTgh6sdyde9vs5Y_-4BayqO0cHtYDFAtjtan0vU-j0hCrJB3ZIuAHk6qTr_5BuqVgPfpgCXbt1zaDXjfg4ur7/s2048/20201219_185149_resized.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4OyHVsBRry5lyiP0rp6goLx_cXaZOdA3pLAecywBCVj-7HjLGuq5_63wTgh6sdyde9vs5Y_-4BayqO0cHtYDFAtjtan0vU-j0hCrJB3ZIuAHk6qTr_5BuqVgPfpgCXbt1zaDXjfg4ur7/s320/20201219_185149_resized.jpg" /></a></div>This leads me to this quote by CBG builder and author David Sutton.
Describing his experience building these things, "I will tell you that I
can't say as I've ever made a mistake building a cigar box guitar. I
will say I've had plenty of unexpected outcomes that inspired
improvisations, but mistakes? Naw." <br /><br />I love that. True of so many things in life: <b>unexpected outcomes that inspired improvisations!</b><br /> <br />Carpe diem Life and Merry Christmas,<br />David Kuhn <br /><br /><br /></div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-68060571545432696152020-12-15T09:11:00.003-08:002020-12-15T09:11:55.293-08:00Week 14 Projects<div style="text-align: left;"> They almost got me. "They" being the NFL. Was flipping through stations and almost stopped on some Week 14 NFL highlights. But, I switched off before connecting. So, I'm not going to count it. As of this date, I've yet to watch a second, see a score, or know what the standings are. And, truth be told, I don't miss it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">This week I got the 20-year-old pontoon boat running and out for her last ride of the season up at Lynnville Lake. She's been a good companion for us through the years; just needs some TLC over the winter. <br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5qAHegeW3RWv1K6sHDMp2n2AOVBSQODWc1cbo4jLq0tS04aGIC2KucwWenzphp_ny5LwbDCqW5bkZIuWVNZ6UKCKgX5ESclWlwEWDb_BBqpVqC9VSL9XOf2wcqqIDIQr5t7Sv00oJmKH/s2048/20201213_135726_HDR_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5qAHegeW3RWv1K6sHDMp2n2AOVBSQODWc1cbo4jLq0tS04aGIC2KucwWenzphp_ny5LwbDCqW5bkZIuWVNZ6UKCKgX5ESclWlwEWDb_BBqpVqC9VSL9XOf2wcqqIDIQr5t7Sv00oJmKH/w457-h343/20201213_135726_HDR_resized.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I docked her at the park dock and hiked back to our little cabin. Some of the hike was on the new path being built along State Rd. 68. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5GlLZgwuFYghjGqnO-LibvbT1eVUl2xuS3nZ-liG4zhKfHBqbFRzCAeIEr1j2m2I9rp2yuFAMq21IO-KbrdZsYkqjUyBca5lRNPOLLLfhwjxf7LZtBDkDAsywJUzqykMGoG3n4aaWXTU/s2048/20201213_142447_HDR_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5GlLZgwuFYghjGqnO-LibvbT1eVUl2xuS3nZ-liG4zhKfHBqbFRzCAeIEr1j2m2I9rp2yuFAMq21IO-KbrdZsYkqjUyBca5lRNPOLLLfhwjxf7LZtBDkDAsywJUzqykMGoG3n4aaWXTU/w436-h582/20201213_142447_HDR_resized.jpg" width="436" /></a></div>On the way home, I came with this little song. I recognize that some
the images have probably been used a hundred times before, but . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Chasing Rainbows<br /><br />I was chasing rainbows <br />Searching for a unicorn<br />I was chasing rainbows<br />Searching for a unicorn<br />Ended up - tangled up — in barbwire<br />Staring down a mad bull’s horns<br /><br />Everyone around me Has the Devil’s own luck<br />Everyone around me Has the Devil’s own luck<br />But my world is a broken mirror with the pieces run amuck <br /><br />Went searching for a pot of gold Ended up having to fold<br />Hung a horse shoe upside down All my luck poured to the ground<br />Went chasing a rabbit for his foot Ended up in a snare and staying put<br />Rode on a carousel Reached for that golden ring<br />Got bucked off a pink panda My head went ding-a-ling-a-ling <br />Pulled a wishbone with my best friend But ended up with the short end, again (then he stole my girlfriend)<br /><br />Everyone around me Has the Devil’s own luck<br />Everyone around me Has the Devil’s own luck<br />But my worlds a broken mirror with the pieces run amuck <br /><br />I went in search of a four leaf clover That’s when I knew it was all over<br />Stepped in a pile of fresh poo Didn’t know what to do<br />But that’s when I saw it was aglow With all the colors of the rainbow<br />And there was glitter in it —<br />(spoken): Folks, that’s when I realized<br />Unicorn poo still smells like shit! And then there’s that bull . . . <br /><br />I was chasing rainbows <br />Searching for a unicorn<br />I was chasing rainbows<br />Searching for a unicorn<br />Ended up tangled up in barbwire<br />Staring down an angry bull’s horns<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-57383912633699138482020-12-06T15:01:00.000-08:002020-12-06T15:01:17.200-08:0013 And Counting<div style="text-align: left;">Today's project has been an on-going one: A Christmas gift (I'm 99.9% sure he doesn't read this blog, so I'm safe to unwrapping it for you here).</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">A few years ago an old friend of mine surprised me with a guitar for a Christmas present. Said, "Here, you should learn to play this." And I have -- been trying. Since then, he's also bought for me a few other very nice toys to help create music. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">So, this year my gift to him is . . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yNuEaSTxn18gOEmpTwXlOZHc4LFrpsdmzR_6w4agRMLItPjeQ7r7Sc4rbh6ZQH6wnMZYSVpdbyNt-RsBju4ofF391-dfmAjJytc4BGU_5i9_brksbqNhHKQn5tRPGoFKosGoUJlQHAt3/s2048/20201206_153806_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yNuEaSTxn18gOEmpTwXlOZHc4LFrpsdmzR_6w4agRMLItPjeQ7r7Sc4rbh6ZQH6wnMZYSVpdbyNt-RsBju4ofF391-dfmAjJytc4BGU_5i9_brksbqNhHKQn5tRPGoFKosGoUJlQHAt3/w372-h496/20201206_153806_resized.jpg" width="372" /></a></div>a cigar box guitar that I'm building. I was planning on giving him that bottom one, but I'm now thinking of the top one -- it's electric! Having never built a cigar box guitar, it's been a challenge. Let's just say that I've hit more than a few sour notes along the way. However, I'm hoping that by the end of the day tomorrow I'll be able to string one up and test it. Then it's off to its new home.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">Again, not exactly a three-hour "not watching the NFL" project, but something very new for me. Who knows, if it actually plays, I might have just found a new hobby to take the place of TV sports.</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /> <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-67707187652651047992020-11-30T05:50:00.000-08:002020-11-30T05:50:06.525-08:00Week 12 andStill zero for the NFL!<br /><br />Again, I'm not so much boycotting as trying to make a conscious effort to live my own life instead of donating my time to gazillionaire athletes. I would also include spending time on Facebook and news outlets in that list (I particularly find it interesting when people complain about "biased" and "fake news" news outlets ON Facebook). Fascinating.<br /><br />Anyway, this weekend we've plinked around with a couple of new toys, worked on a few pre "winter storm" activities outside -- putting away deck chairs, covering crawlspace vents, cleaning up leaves, etc.<br /> <br />We also started Christmas Decorating!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgp9uROskYlwfsO60VdrpAcd2_QPYu1-b-w0pjX4Wb2z1z0RFyxhFppPm3UL5CYUWXMpp9haG_uBqm3Gh7XR5TDyWoKXwtUEbSOkCXjmL-ACn-R72Qhtg3-tiX_FkHhCAdbjEuNE07gVO/s2048/20201129_123833_HDR_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgp9uROskYlwfsO60VdrpAcd2_QPYu1-b-w0pjX4Wb2z1z0RFyxhFppPm3UL5CYUWXMpp9haG_uBqm3Gh7XR5TDyWoKXwtUEbSOkCXjmL-ACn-R72Qhtg3-tiX_FkHhCAdbjEuNE07gVO/w554-h416/20201129_123833_HDR_resized.jpg" width="554" /></a></div><br />As I've written before, my favorite decorations are some Christmas albums we frame and the homemade stars my two daughters made
for several years (started three decades ago). It was fun for them at first; however, as the years
passed too quickly, it became -- like so many things kids have to do for
parents -- a chore. Eventually, the tradition just faded away. Now,
all I have are memories and a box of fading, brittle old paper stars. <br /><br />I've recently seen a lot of these type of images pop up on social media:<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh909Fi29LQpkTVPP0PTJKGrNDl4iuNdwmU1x_krM1OxyhO7bqjtBivUAKTuqYG3pPd1WtaqMCWcbQwXJnHQ4Y3ELemqIj8O_ekduvAWmoL8nGZ3glzOyuPm0IoyUXaBsMXWyNEeNOgmrmX/s541/Screen+Shot+2020-11-30+at+7.19.06+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="541" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh909Fi29LQpkTVPP0PTJKGrNDl4iuNdwmU1x_krM1OxyhO7bqjtBivUAKTuqYG3pPd1WtaqMCWcbQwXJnHQ4Y3ELemqIj8O_ekduvAWmoL8nGZ3glzOyuPm0IoyUXaBsMXWyNEeNOgmrmX/w431-h390/Screen+Shot+2020-11-30+at+7.19.06+AM.png" width="431" /></a></div><br />Sort
of like those stars, I guess. They're wrinkled, gray (faded), scarred. And, to me, a yearly reminder of laughter, caring, living. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8erNV1MBE3gQslVXyZC_PAjrFXA7ZA1uVG6MA-ScHwvWDk7tO3N6XGuqtQQ3YCn4O8wx88g83Ba5YfSQLIC2PIVhfOnZ4F63WoVzhyH6WTnoDfwenmC1dseZnQugcxU41naM1apcb6sK/s2048/20201129_113536_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8erNV1MBE3gQslVXyZC_PAjrFXA7ZA1uVG6MA-ScHwvWDk7tO3N6XGuqtQQ3YCn4O8wx88g83Ba5YfSQLIC2PIVhfOnZ4F63WoVzhyH6WTnoDfwenmC1dseZnQugcxU41naM1apcb6sK/w501-h376/20201129_113536_resized.jpg" width="501" /></a></div>Carpe diem Life,<br /></div>David Kuhn <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-77492339961856629672020-11-24T10:45:00.002-08:002020-11-24T10:45:17.042-08:00Week 11 and . . . <div style="text-align: left;"> Still NOT going strong. I'm now zero for 11 weeks of the NFL (and college football). </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Sunday: I couldn't work on the project I wanted to as we had a <span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">“The best laid schemes o' mice an' men" moment when I got home from work: our dryer out of commission. I worked on it until I conceded -- I needed parts and Lowe's was already closed. Defeated for the night, I drank a couple of beers and hit it early on Monday.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Monday: Dryer fixed (at least for now).</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Then, I went to work on a few Christmas gifts. I designed and built one of these for Suzanne last year. I then received a few orders from two daughters and friend of the family. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-e84aZd3VDb0iEnlFwfV7s_XV9Bjs8u_RhVvA78lQY9A18iPjGs_d6vnHUTvOdzrm6c_SnS-OxL1QMz4EZMIHeczEdJCFJ3801XK6M-NfVU0nDteOahhaVCEZL_wHjvhBikeBC74TbQqx/s2048/20201124_121843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-e84aZd3VDb0iEnlFwfV7s_XV9Bjs8u_RhVvA78lQY9A18iPjGs_d6vnHUTvOdzrm6c_SnS-OxL1QMz4EZMIHeczEdJCFJ3801XK6M-NfVU0nDteOahhaVCEZL_wHjvhBikeBC74TbQqx/w394-h526/20201124_121843.jpg" width="394" /></a></div><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Each takes abound 50 or so boards of various length cut 45-degrees on each end. Plus, three stars each. Then glue, nails, stain. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">I still have some work to do on them, but I'm close.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">The project utilized my Carpe diem Map:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Choose what I want to do</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Action Plan</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Resources (materials, etc)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Persistent Action</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Evaluate Progress</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Direction (change as needed)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Improvements </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Enjoy the process (I put on some music)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">My Responsibility (no one was going to make them for me)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Now, regarding all the election, news channels, Facebook:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">"Unfortunately, you have to listen to some people for a long time to discover that they don't have anything to say." -- Annon.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">Carpe diem Life,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">David Kuhn </span></span> </div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-2327092264996524302020-11-15T06:47:00.002-08:002020-11-15T06:47:41.443-08:00NFL? Take a Hike! <div style="text-align: left;">It's Week 10 of my "Zero NFL Project". Instead of donating my time to the NFL and mega-millionaires, I spend three hours (about the length of a game) working on a specific project. <br /><br />Today's scheduled projects have, unfortunately, been blown away by the wind: 40 to 45 mile-per-hour wind gusts as a result of a cold front moving through our area. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">“The wind is made of haunting souls <br />that moan and groan <br />in whistles and whispers. <br />This ghostly choir chills the breeze <br />and orchestrates a rise of goose bumps <br />on my skin.”
<br />― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Today's project(s) TBD. <br /><br />We're dog-sitting for our daughter's family. Haven't had a little guy running around the house since our dog passed a couple of years ago. Hauntingly strange to hear barks again. In preparation for the week, I put up as much temporary fencing as I could -- just in case he wanted to wander. Sure enough, first thing this morning he makes a beeline for a chink in the armor. Fortunately, I was able to reel him in before he broke free. There is MORE than enough room and new territory in our yard to explore. <br /><br />Yesterday, I took a hike and picked up garbage at my adopted park: Igleheart Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SmBle7z8UQ8KX98676hS_CcqXuf3ExUpekCEerupragi03Uj3PvB1dUsS_NbSou2gadZn9sSn21fqWC2AjAmT_j304byJfah1OmxHyBfaccBEnGBjBZ0B6Y4lW08Bff3wetCT7cJDhol/s745/Screen+Shot+2020-11-15+at+8.46.15+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="745" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SmBle7z8UQ8KX98676hS_CcqXuf3ExUpekCEerupragi03Uj3PvB1dUsS_NbSou2gadZn9sSn21fqWC2AjAmT_j304byJfah1OmxHyBfaccBEnGBjBZ0B6Y4lW08Bff3wetCT7cJDhol/w471-h424/Screen+Shot+2020-11-15+at+8.46.15+AM.png" width="471" /></a></div><br /> on Evansville's North Side. Except for a used fire extinguisher, I found the woods to be pretty clean of trash. A fire extinguisher? What the heck?<br /><br />"It's only ideas gained from walking that have any worth." -- Friedrich Nietzsche. <br /><br />And Dickens wrote, "If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish."<br /><br />If you do get out today, watch out for the "widow makers."<br /><br />Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn</div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-59763103574425355742020-11-09T06:54:00.000-08:002020-11-09T06:54:07.605-08:00Seeds<div style="text-align: left;">NFL / College Football: Still 0 for the Season! <br /></div><p>A few months ago I planted just a couple of tiny seeds at the back of our property. </p><p>This week, we had a pretty hard frost. When I looked at the back the next morning, I discovered:</p><p> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwMkCDz2xoaajPFreOGQ7XSYEiyroagUompbufwk9p8v5ed4xrXILBLexzelF-JyZw6asbTS-XKsmjy0qgFQQL5WmP3puwwIs0_Ty9VlhR25w9s-MG6dAsPzXNHxfvdamQYYtA7XdlXWi/s2048/20201103_160027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwMkCDz2xoaajPFreOGQ7XSYEiyroagUompbufwk9p8v5ed4xrXILBLexzelF-JyZw6asbTS-XKsmjy0qgFQQL5WmP3puwwIs0_Ty9VlhR25w9s-MG6dAsPzXNHxfvdamQYYtA7XdlXWi/w344-h458/20201103_160027.jpg" width="344" /></a></div>I knew I had a few, but I didn't realize that I had this many in all the growth and weeds (16). <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZSneULo56VpYKypQuv39-GGJ6h3r6XcRLIuEarccXpSueLskGIedulz4ds66FL6XPC3AuhA6ZBuGtZ7CwhQ8LId8NAsNatqNkTdPLHLBIhp4dQP_LxmiEy4J4aWOYKKCb4INyviRkr-b/s2048/20201104_154025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="491" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZSneULo56VpYKypQuv39-GGJ6h3r6XcRLIuEarccXpSueLskGIedulz4ds66FL6XPC3AuhA6ZBuGtZ7CwhQ8LId8NAsNatqNkTdPLHLBIhp4dQP_LxmiEy4J4aWOYKKCb4INyviRkr-b/w368-h491/20201104_154025.jpg" width="368" /></a></div>So, I thought I would post of couple of pictures and some quotes. <p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Cultivate Resilience in the Hard Seasons<br /> 1. “The tiny seed knew that in order to grow it needed to be dropped in dirt, covered in darkness, and struggle to reach the light.” — Sandra Kring<br /> 2. “For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.” — Cynthia Occelli<br /> 3. “Life does not accommodate you; it shatters you. Every seed destroys its container, or else there would be no fruition.” — Florida Scott-Maxwell<br /> 4. “The seeds of resilience are planted in the way we process the negative events in our lives.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>— Sheryl Sandberg<br /> 5. “When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.” — Andrea Gibson<br /> 6. “Love is the seed of all hope. It is the enticement to trust, to risk, to try, to go on.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>— Gloria Gaither</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Have Faith in the Process</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 1. “To see things in the seed, that is genius.” — Lao Tzu</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 2. “A good question is never answered. It is not a bolt to be tightened into place but a seed to be planted and to bear more seed toward the hope of greening the landscape of idea.” — John Ciardi</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 3. “Keep planting new seeds until your mind becomes the earth that gives birth to new worlds.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>— Curtis Tyrone Jones</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 4. “Legacy. What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>— Hamilton, the Musical</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 5. “Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>— Henry David Thoreau</div><div style="text-align: left;"> 6. “A seed knows how to wait… a seed is alive while it waits.” — Hope Jahren</div><p>I have NO idea what I'm going to do with the fruits of my labor, but I did reap what I sowed. <br /></p><p>Carpe diem Life,<br />David Kuhn <br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-82188146674214880132020-11-05T05:25:00.002-08:002020-11-05T05:25:50.847-08:00Sun Came Up<div style="text-align: left;">Went to bed Tuesday night with the election still in doubt (as of today, it still is). But, funny thing: Yesterday morning the sun rose. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ejZNI4ni5oB_wmliH11oYsgMYCNuA-9iIBDhPg89Ybp0Sw64OZESvp1qenNha9Jx8b9_GIU5Dg7wwrvtCdPLXn5Y1lmuFkN8QVsIeUPQnDqj-8CaALRtsIjFIFv1sE9y3gsvm80TMaCe/s768/9d7b49ca-29fa-42cf-b35a-2f43c956b0ec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="479" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ejZNI4ni5oB_wmliH11oYsgMYCNuA-9iIBDhPg89Ybp0Sw64OZESvp1qenNha9Jx8b9_GIU5Dg7wwrvtCdPLXn5Y1lmuFkN8QVsIeUPQnDqj-8CaALRtsIjFIFv1sE9y3gsvm80TMaCe/w479-h479/9d7b49ca-29fa-42cf-b35a-2f43c956b0ec.jpg" width="479" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yesterday, after checking to see that YES the election process was still going through its phases, I spent day in the yard -- working under the beautiful blue sky and wonderfully warm sun (today, my back is barking, but . . . ). After the sun went down, I decided NOT to check the Election results again (it will be what it will be). Instead, I built a fire and relaxed. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In the southern sky I could see Jupiter and Saturn. So, playing with the phone camera and a sky view app, I took this. </div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWZDkv3Kb3KxjNPT8g0CxbbmCvFYXsTH6UNqUe5grIF-IizHhwXzklwkVqOY9z8h1v6OnTUcphhvknNB7830y7z7q0aOUTzjTZjm3Frcy6CaBMmCnmuI7gY9cNyxIM53LawLL-SPO7ecl/s2160/Screenshot_20201104-171954.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="1080" height="696" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWZDkv3Kb3KxjNPT8g0CxbbmCvFYXsTH6UNqUe5grIF-IizHhwXzklwkVqOY9z8h1v6OnTUcphhvknNB7830y7z7q0aOUTzjTZjm3Frcy6CaBMmCnmuI7gY9cNyxIM53LawLL-SPO7ecl/w348-h696/Screenshot_20201104-171954.png" width="348" /></a></div>Phases. Keep rising!</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-75557046809689309722020-11-03T13:37:00.004-08:002020-11-05T05:08:23.489-08:00Week Eight and Voting<div style="text-align: left;">I'm officially eight weeks into not watching a second of the NFL. I didn't have any specific projects -- just played with the grandkids. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Voted today. Reminded me of that old joke, "When he asks you to vote for him and for good government, he's asking you to vote twice." Wow, how did we get here?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mort Sahl once wrote that Ronald Reagan won because he ran against Jimmy Carter. If he had run unopposed he would have lost. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">One final thought. It is not lost on me that the little voting stylus they hand out when you vote very much resembles a crack pipe. Fitting?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisTEXxkzW52K73fuzYdp4rcpyii9rN0zPqvjnQt5pQfCOJjT_Cj3Kg47_NF5nXadI6o_cQJDO9ikTFsr38bY1yuLppduL7ozRbmF8Shh2oaPgA_pTLaEmJfIm79MUG9bvX8_8BaXi7Zy-/s2048/20201103_151523.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisTEXxkzW52K73fuzYdp4rcpyii9rN0zPqvjnQt5pQfCOJjT_Cj3Kg47_NF5nXadI6o_cQJDO9ikTFsr38bY1yuLppduL7ozRbmF8Shh2oaPgA_pTLaEmJfIm79MUG9bvX8_8BaXi7Zy-/w435-h326/20201103_151523.jpg" width="435" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-90291056492430724062020-10-26T06:05:00.000-07:002020-10-26T06:05:07.680-07:00Another NFL-less Sunday<div style="text-align: left;">This week I spent my Sunday out in the woods -- and then packing up from a weekend in the woods.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">It started Friday by setting up camp for our black powder muzzle loading club's "Fall Rendezvous."</div><div style="text-align: left;">A <i>Rendezvous</i> is a weekend of camping, cooking over open fires and in dutch ovens, shooting competitions at various targets, throwing a knife and hawk, etc. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I got set up just in time for . . . <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pgvG3G1Ru_9WSgV3F1W1j4YryLJlp_eNx7Zwii3yELmPiiWwJiut1zycodmg5JG8IaTFPdW-gKV6KtOkaOpVr-8uR1a92WW3PvAkbZtk6Sa-Rvpm0pJUuO0r4SwiqC7F0Bi6wm0ONf5r/s2048/a7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pgvG3G1Ru_9WSgV3F1W1j4YryLJlp_eNx7Zwii3yELmPiiWwJiut1zycodmg5JG8IaTFPdW-gKV6KtOkaOpVr-8uR1a92WW3PvAkbZtk6Sa-Rvpm0pJUuO0r4SwiqC7F0Bi6wm0ONf5r/w388-h517/a7.jpg" width="388" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrO3YeOdn_W1YEg5loVPUlM1uoJegU1pBCsYpIxyX1Rs7sod82Hh6X5cy1_pmQEJpIwlMUJ0RHOT3QTLr7PuofXxwKlZnLca5WwWqYQrL0iO5uaj5OSBNhTDc6pBAcI1V0j8svnSAn-ti/s2160/a9.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="1080" height="609" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrO3YeOdn_W1YEg5loVPUlM1uoJegU1pBCsYpIxyX1Rs7sod82Hh6X5cy1_pmQEJpIwlMUJ0RHOT3QTLr7PuofXxwKlZnLca5WwWqYQrL0iO5uaj5OSBNhTDc6pBAcI1V0j8svnSAn-ti/w305-h609/a9.png" width="305" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">We spent the rest of Friday night hunkered down under our primitive canvas. And, as the temperatures dropped, under wool blankets.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I would like to share one other photo. This is J.B. starting a fire with flint and steel. What makes this photo special is that in the far background is his grandson and the wide-eyed youngster looking on is J.B.'s great-grandson. Just a beautiful example of a family sharing a hobby. <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50XxhOmHQZDLv_B1HRkLMMP2lgL9uiAiF5ichMFGF4ChZEfu6JOuCzxTJp1ozw-PR47eaUhm9jb46xJMYHeKaQFhD4Em5HVaUuzqStQg8ljUnX5-p1HWGod0bZr80N4R6b7vp8tg4W-zD/s808/b16.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="561" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50XxhOmHQZDLv_B1HRkLMMP2lgL9uiAiF5ichMFGF4ChZEfu6JOuCzxTJp1ozw-PR47eaUhm9jb46xJMYHeKaQFhD4Em5HVaUuzqStQg8ljUnX5-p1HWGod0bZr80N4R6b7vp8tg4W-zD/w316-h456/b16.png" width="316" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">This shot got me thinking a lot about passion (in this case for a hobby) and action. Starting a fire with flint and steel requires planning (you need a flint, hard steel, usually some charred cloth to hold a spark, and some sort of nest that will catch fire). Then you need to strike the steel just right to create sparks. Add a little oxygen and, hopefully, you've got fire. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">What action and sparks will I take the rest of this week? Well, it will start with cleaning a truck-load of dirty, smelly camping equipment out of my truck. But, it was all worth it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Planning -- Action -- Sparks -- Fire! <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><p><br /></p><br />David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-67943686788139547742020-10-19T05:00:00.000-07:002020-10-19T05:00:09.549-07:00This Goes Along With Yesterday's Post <p>I Thought this was pretty good. Stolen off Facebook (I know, I know. What the hell was I doing on Facebook!?). </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEToOTgDHqtdQOdAOnTA-0Cem3cksQxfD-fMtz_jTLp-mcrcC6cs_8KaOvNbUNClZrCcWgGYB_UOPU7clZDUGtG1XwICJdlOu0lakwOoqh3akKjTanRKsNmzjphq925d2ssdUjYA12vIN/s869/Screen+Shot+2020-10-19+at+6.56.44+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="500" height="890" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEToOTgDHqtdQOdAOnTA-0Cem3cksQxfD-fMtz_jTLp-mcrcC6cs_8KaOvNbUNClZrCcWgGYB_UOPU7clZDUGtG1XwICJdlOu0lakwOoqh3akKjTanRKsNmzjphq925d2ssdUjYA12vIN/w511-h890/Screen+Shot+2020-10-19+at+6.56.44+AM.png" width="511" /></a></div><br /><p>Carpe diem Life,</p><p>David Kuhn <br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-79945821777166608212020-10-18T06:20:00.002-07:002020-10-18T06:20:29.266-07:00Week 6: xobparc<p> And, I might add: aidem laicos !</p><p>According to Robert Ringer (see last week's post), there is an organized conspiracy that revolves around a device whose purpose is to dull our senses and steer us away from thoughts that might inspire us to take action to BETTER our existence. The code word for this device is <i>xobparc</i>. I'm adding <i>aidem laicos</i> (which, by coincidence, is <i>crapbox</i> and <i>social media</i> spelled backward).</p><div style="text-align: left;">I can't even begin to tell you how much of my precious life I've given away to these desensitizing "eraf parc." And the <i>LFN</i> has been big part of it. No more!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I do have a CHOICE!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPKWYGC_Oq0LDW6KCAqwYEkF6-DfldiqRik8xutEGZsBc2GoEZmNqekD-LnML1YHFYPVIvegH6vtaGraNvNTjJ3v7CnMQ2NfAygI0bT8mHjCwYdNlq-2ZvRvCvhNfPHVM43tePQv76eDW/s761/Screen+Shot+2020-10-18+at+8.19.24+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="761" data-original-width="676" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPKWYGC_Oq0LDW6KCAqwYEkF6-DfldiqRik8xutEGZsBc2GoEZmNqekD-LnML1YHFYPVIvegH6vtaGraNvNTjJ3v7CnMQ2NfAygI0bT8mHjCwYdNlq-2ZvRvCvhNfPHVM43tePQv76eDW/w377-h425/Screen+Shot+2020-10-18+at+8.19.24+AM.png" width="377" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, on today's agenda:</div><ul><li>Create targets for my black powder muzzle loading club shoot next weekend. Some of those targets involve created in the woodworking shop. It's also our Primitive Camp, so I need to start preparing for that.</li><li>Pack to go up north to see older daughter and the grandkids (okay, and son-in-law, too). <br /></li><li>Finally, after running some errands, a pizza dinner with younger daughter. </li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank you Robert Ringer for reminding me that I do have a choice. It's up to me to start taking constructive action -- instead of watching over-paid athletes. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549257908771112951.post-80982594126224105072020-10-11T16:49:00.002-07:002020-10-11T16:49:35.991-07:00<div style="text-align: left;">Week 5: No NFL, NBA, MLB, College Football . . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Projects. A conscious decision to work on accomplishing a project instead of donating three hours of my time watching a game.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">This week's project involved moving out a good portion of a utility closet, adding a shelving unit, and cleaning out a pantry. It's our first step to having space to hoard food and paper goods for when the upcoming apocalypse begins to devour us (in reality, we've just always thought it would be a good idea to have shelves in there and 35-years later is as good a time as ever). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Action.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebq8b1Ih0AYJXCLvocwomdkKZip_eZT_aQXVYikuIODZP1f1lqp4s78sHQq7T_i3b954z9_RQ3fKyYBtestnE7gJ6K7CG15PjD9sTtnVEwvPQiYfXl8njg_w64TxrNl2s21vZ-wtzFDCE/s808/Screen+Shot+2020-10-11+at+6.33.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="449" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebq8b1Ih0AYJXCLvocwomdkKZip_eZT_aQXVYikuIODZP1f1lqp4s78sHQq7T_i3b954z9_RQ3fKyYBtestnE7gJ6K7CG15PjD9sTtnVEwvPQiYfXl8njg_w64TxrNl2s21vZ-wtzFDCE/w327-h588/Screen+Shot+2020-10-11+at+6.33.16+PM.png" width="327" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">All this process has reminded me of the American business philosopher Robert Ringer. His philosophy, in part, states that the most important success habit when it comes to determining how an individual's life plays out is ACTION! Ideas can be precious commodities that can change the world. Sound preparation is invaluable. Knowledge and wisdom are essential when it comes to giving one an edge in the pursuit of great achievements. But . . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">IT'S ALL USELESS WITHOUT ACTION. Because ACTION is the starting point of all progress. It is action that cuts the umbilical cord and brings an idea out of the womb. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, what's the critical ingredient? Getting off my butt and doing something. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carpe diem Life,</div><div style="text-align: left;">David Kuhn <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>David Kuhnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15153904954710565142noreply@blogger.com0