Jack's Guide (the Renaissance Person's Guide to Survival in a Shaky Economy)

Architectural Tree Houses

I think it must be a primal childhood urge.  I refer here to the need to literally rise above it all and to elevate oneself to a place of spatial superiority.  In the feline world, it serves to buttress the cat's feeling of dominance over dogs, nay, over all lesser beings- that ability to effortlessly ascend to the upper reaches of whatever tree happens to be handy, and to perch regally and survey the scurrying of the inferior world below.   I see this happen to my cat Moosh- normally a skittish, nervous type, on acquiring her favorite tree perch in my magnificent scarlet willow, she transforms into a tiny lioness, fearing naught, oblivious to earth-bound perils, and superior in every way.

As kids, I think we naturally gravitate (or would that be "de-gravitate"?) to this tendency.  We start out as drooling floor-bound crawlers, cut our teeth as we toddle about with our tummies off the ground, and eventually get the urge to mount anything climb-able.  Since age one, I have had a scorpion-shaped scar below my lower lip, as evidence of this infant urge.  Left unattended for a brief moment, I managed to stand up in my stroller, which tipped over backwards as I attempted to climb the push-bar, launching me face-first into a nearby coal bucket, thus marking me for life.  

So I think it is only natural for children of all ages to have a fascination for tree-houses.  I distinctly recall two such structures from my own formative years.  One was inherited with the house my folks bought when we moved to Rock Hill, South Carolina, at which point I had already reached the ripe old age of sixteen, and was thus far too advanced to indulge in such puerile pursuits, and so left the tree house to my younger siblings.  You will have to ask them about that particular structure, but I recollect that it was quite elaborate compared to our previous one, having a roof and side rails to keep the climber safe.  The one I remember best was one our dad built in an adjacent lot when we lived in Seneca, SC.  It was a mere elevated platform, constructed about six feet off the ground, with no kind of restraint or safety devices.  My dad, while a thorough and loving provider, was not a coddler.  I don't recall any broken bones resulting from rapid and unrestrained descent, but correct me if I am wrong, my sibs.

It was not until after I had developed an interest in architecture and gone on to study it and become degreed in that field, that I had occasion to see the fruits of childhood tree-dwelling grown up.  Those serious designers who sally forth on such projects generally do so with fun mainly in mind, and I love coming across the results.  To wit: this posting about tree houses from Dezeen.  If you follow the links therein, each tree house is thoroughly (enough) documented and described.  And here is another link to some weird and wonderful tree-top abodes.

Maybe I'll just go out and construct a nice tree house in that scarlet willow.... I wonder if Moosh will forgive me.

 

Home Repair and Remodeling site, Film review

I lately have fielded more than a few inquiries regarding my recent move.  One might think of that issue as "relatively painless", as I was in essence going just next door.  However, the process took a solid two months and is, as any discriminating homeowner will know, an evolving, on-going affair.   That said, I am well-settled in the new space and quite comfy, so that my answer to the above-referenced inquiries is that I am adjusting quite well in my new man cave, thanks very much.  It occurred to me, too, that I have posted few pix of the new place, so if I can figure out a way to....ah, yes, there it is....(keyboard sounds and random snorts of satisfaction).......  Okay, you should now be able to find a photo album in the right-hand sidebar, labeled 2011 Renovation, where I have put for your perusal a few pictures of my new digs. Here's the place from the street:

These photos are really quite lame, as my faithful old HP750 finally bit the dust, and I guess I'll have to go out and buy one of those credit-card sized digital cameras.  I've got a mind to duct-tape it to my old Nikon FM SLR, to at least make it feel like a real camera.  Anyway, pardon the pictures, taken with my iPhone.  I'll replace them whenever I get some higher-res photos.

One of the compelling reasons for doing this is to convince folks that I am fine.  Going back to those questions from concerned friends and family, from clients and co-workers; I do appreciate the sentiment, but I feel in truth that I have nothing that could justify allowing myself the dubious luxury of wallowing in self-pity.  

The other excuse for bringing up the relocation/renovation project is that it makes a perfect segue into another story: that of a website that I actually got paid to beta-test several months ago. It wasn't so much the site I was paid to evaluate, as it was the whole process of posting and participating on the site, and it ultimately paid several hundred bucks, which was worth the effort.  Anyway, when they quit paying me, I lost interest (funny how that works), and forgot about it until I got some feedback about one of my posted projects- one of six home fix-up affairs I initially posted on the website.  I noticed their name/address had changed, so I felt it appropriate here to give them another shout-out, as well as updating their info on the right-hand sidebar (close to the bottom, if not at it).  Their new name is hometalk.com , and I like their new format enough to look into once again posting there, and to recommend checking them out, if you are a fix-it type person and are internet-savvy at all.

For those of you who find yourselves with time to spend watching television and/or films, I wish to file a review.  Years ago, I thoroughly enjoyed reading Ken Follett's wonderful novel of medieval England, Pillars of the Earth.  The story has since been serialized and produced for tv, reduced somewhat in scope, but still broad enough to flesh out eight hour-long episodes.  This must have happened during the period several years ago when I put myself on a tv-free regimen, as I was surprised when it turned up on the shelves at my local Blockbuster.  Normally I don't bother to compare films to the books from which they are derived- the two media are so different that, for me, at least, there's no comparing.  I have seen movies that I enjoyed more than their cinematic counterpart, and vice versa.  Pillars of the Earth, the series, is well worth watching.  I am venturing this opinion despite the fact that I am only half-way through it.  (Critics put waaaay too much stock in endings, I think, happy or otherwise, where all loose ends are tied up and all live happily ever after- not so much like real life.)  So there, for what it's worth, is my opinion and recommendation. 

A Room of One's Own

I find it quite fitting to be composing this blog in my present circumstances, celebrating this January 25th, which happens to be A Room of One's Own Day.  The irony (if that's what it qualifies as) is that I sit here typing away on my MacBook Pro (today is also commemorated as MacIntosh Computer Day), in my new living quarters, which happen to be one large room, basically.  But that's part of what loft living is, by my definition, and in my humble opinion. Please allow me to digress.

It drives me crazy (not a long trip, admittedly) to see so many brand-new "loft" buildings, built specifically for residential or live/work tenants.  The original idea of loft living, in my so-called mind, comprises three primary prerequisites, to wit: One- the space is recycled and in an urban setting;  Two- the space was not originally intended as residential; and Three- the space incorporates at least some elements of open-plan layout, with a minimum of traditional "rooms".  Bathrooms and other private areas may be partitioned off, but often times these areas, too, are merely screened off or otherwise designed to feel more spacious or open.  Call me narrow-minded if you will-  condo or apartment developments built to look like lofts are not the real thing.

My building was used for sixty or seventy years as a light industrial facility, but when I bought it, it was enjoying perhaps its initial adaptive re-use, as a place of worship, complete with full-body baptismal immersion font, choir loft, organ, and pulpit.  As a result of that deal, I inherited the organ, a piano, and several very nice old wooden church pews, along with the mail subscriptions to a host of evangelical services and mail-order proprietors.  If you want to know where to find coffee mugs with your pastor's picture on them, just let me know.  Same thing goes next Halloween, when you and your pals decide to dress up as a gospel choir.  

I think my fascination with loft living goes back to childhood, to approximately age twelve or so.  I had made it to that point in my career sharing a room with my younger brother Gordon- or maybe it was him who was the survivor.  I had graduated into my teen years possessed of all the mad trappings of the age group, and bursting at the seams with pubescent angst, hormones, and righteous indignation at not being recognized for my martyrdom and special talents.  And any first-born will tell you, as the eldest of four, I suffered the task of "breaking the ice" for  my siblings to follow.  At any rate, when it became obvious that I was morphing into a social retard and not fit for co-habitation, my parents, in their infinite wisdom, turned the basement over to me.  It was an unfinished space with a slab floor and no partitions.  A furnace room was partitioned off and some stud walls were erected, but the floor joists and cinder-block perimeter walls were left exposed.  Thus I came to associate that type of environment with self-sufficiency, freedom, and self-expression, and found myself longing for a similar adult equivalent, much later in life.  I never did achieve my own bathroom way back then, and am happy to report that I have long since achieved that lofty goal.  It even has a door.

Too Much Stuff

I have come to the sudden and shocking conclusion that I have waaay too much stuff.  Delbert McClinton actually did a catchy little song by that name ("Too Much Stuff"), but ole Delbert was talking more about a whole different variety of miserable overabundance.  I'm in no dire straits, but I am finding I have far too much stuff, as regards to books, artwork, furniture, clothes, kitchen gadgets, musical instruments, plantlife.... you get the idea.  Talk about high-quality problems.  

Of course, those of you who have been following my lately catch-as-catch-can posts will know that my dilemma has been wrought by the necessity to downsize into living quarters approximately half the size of my previous abode.  It's all part and parcel of a building I can (courtesy of the institution that holds the mortgage) claim ownership of- I just have relocated from a 2000 square foot place to one of 1100 square feet.  I have recently transferred the necessities for living and working from one space to the other, and am left with too much stuff- stuff that I need to sell, give away, or otherwise figure out what to do with, before leasing out my former residence for, hopefully, a small fortune in rental income.

I am refreshed by the opportunity to do some filtering, and to pare down after years of collecting stuff.  I am a pack-rat by nature, and find it hard to get rid of things that I might conceivably, in the time left to me, use one more time.  It is frightening to conceive of life without all our material goods and toys, and we tend to define ourselves (and others) by the things we possess.  At risk of sounding trite and formulaic, let me utter once again some of the truisms regarding "stuff"- "you can't take it with you", "what matters is within", and perhaps my favorite, "he who dies with the most debt wins".

I am frequently reminded, despite my craving for creature comforts, that I need to address the things that should be my most treasured possessions: strength of character, perseverance, honesty, and willingness to be of service to others.  Sometimes I get caught up in juggling the "stuff" in my life, and forget about what should be important.

As for the things that I will keep, I am enjoying the process of devising solutions to my space and storage issues.  When I have settled a bit more, I hope to be able to share some posts about creative new solutions to such challenges.  All in the interest of survival in the worst economy I can remember, and I've been around a while.

Progress, not perfection

Having now successfully dug out from Atlanta's winter event of the past week, and functionally ensconced in my new work/live space, I feel compelled to compose.  My writing output for the past month or so has been woefully inadequate, and for that I do not apologize.  I would certainly do so, had I been sitting around slacking off, but I like to think that I do not make a prime slacker candidate.  I may not always be as efficient as I could be, but who of us is?  It's like the old claim that the human brain is only utilized to a fraction of its potential.  But if I can say truthfully that today I was a little better than yesterday, on a continuing basis, then I'll consider that I truly am making progress.

I have a lot of stuff to share about the renovation/moving process, and want to share a couple of items today.  

First is the interior wall I mentioned (in my December 18 post). The goal was to create a wall treatment that would lend something of an oriental feel for the space.  Here's what it looked like when I started:

 

After a few hours of ragging, dry-rolling, and slinging paint, it looked like this:

and with A/V components in place, here's how it looks:

I am okay with it for the time being, but in the overall context of the space, I'm afraid once I get all my stuff moved in, the wall will just be too busy, and may ultimately get painted a solid color.

One of the issues that I wanted to deal with was the fact that the entry to the space is right on the street, so I wanted to create some privacy.  Here is a photo of the security fence I had fabricated twelve years ago, when I first got the place:

In order to devise a privacy screen, I recycled some old vertical blinds, weaving them between the re-bar verticals pretty easily, and concealing the entry from immediate street/sidewalk view. (Pardon the stucco repair currently under way):

 

 

Paint Technique, Spiritual Affirmation #2

Despite the decidedly negative implications of "downsizing", "cutting expenses", and "moving into a smaller space", I am having some fun preparing my new digs.  I have completed most of the grunt work (i.e. cleaning, painting, flooring, etc.), and am launching into the decorating mode.  I won't be doing a lot here, as it is only a 1000 square foot space, and I already possess more stuff than will fit into it, so a busy decorating scheme will only make it appear more cluttered.  Despite the plan to go pretty basic, I am indulging in one fun feature.  I plan today to do a sort of faux finish wall spanning the "entertainment area" (TV room?) and the kitchen.  The technique is somewhat akin to sponge-painting, but I plan to use a combination of effects.  No sponges,  but rather large wads of plastic sheeting, dried paint rollers, and slung paint. (Okay, maybe a little bit of sponge work.)  I'm going for a sort of Jackson Pollack-meets-Henry the Happy (and sloppy) Painter-look.  The two spaces are separated by a half-height wall/bar, so the effect will span the diving structure and die out behind the kitchen cabinets.  Depending on the outcome, I may post pictures of the results for your perusal.

Now, on to the essential stuff.  You may wish to refer to previous posts on my Lucky Thirteen, my series of spiritual affirmations used to bolster myself against a decidedly sometimes un-spiritual environment.  Previous posts are: December 1st and December 12th.  Here's the summary of all thirteen affirmations:

The Lucky Thirteen:

1-  I am a competent , capable and talented individual

2-  I am honest, productive and fair with friends, family, and business associates

3-  I know how to take care of myself and the people around me, and I am in the process of doing so

4-  I always feel better when I don’t throw private tantrums

5-  I am intelligent, insightful, intuitive, and creative

6-  I am healthy, and strong physically, mentally, and spiritually

7-  I am gaining serenity and spirituality and losing anger and fear

8-  I have friends and family who love me, and it is important that they know I love them back

9-  People are attracted to me and want to be my friends

10- I am a caring and compassionate person- I always feel good doing for others

11- The right and perfect soul mate for me exists, and I am on a path to find that one

12- I have plenty of work and am financially secure

13- I am a perfect expression of God’s (or substitute a higher power of your choosing) love and the creative power of the universe

Affirmation #2-  I am honest, productive and fair with friends, family, and business associates

We all like to think of ourselves as "good people", axe murderers included.  Our individual definitions of "good" may vary wildly (see attached Christmas card sent me by my sis, Mary Frances), but I don't think many of us want to believe that we are not doing the best we can.  But when it comes to honesty, we can sometimes wax rather subjective, and our definition of "honesty" frequently depends on our current agenda.  

I like the way Dictionary.com defines the word.  They list nine separate descriptions for the adjective, the first one being:  "honorable in principles, intentions, and actions; upright and fair".  Not until number seven do they even mention "truth".  This matches with what I believe about honesty.  If I am not concealing my motives when dealing with friends, family, or business associates, chances are I am being honest.  Textbook, or "cash register" honesty is all well and good, but truthfulness in motive and intent is more the kind I refer to in the affirmation.  Sometimes the truth hurts, and I have another saying that I like to use as a yardstick for how far to go when opening my mouth and letting fly with pronouncements that may affect others: "A truth that's told with bad intent beats any lie you can invent".Affirmation number two reminds me that my goal is to be as sincere and forthright in my intentions as I can be.  Remember my philosophy of acting as if;  if act for long enough as ifI am an honest individual, sooner or later I become one.

I like to think that I give good value to my clients for the money they pay me- that I am as productive as I can be when doing my thing for them.  As an independent consultant/contractor, working under my own supervision, the only gauge I have on this is whether or not my clients feel this way too, and they keep coming back, so I have to assume they agree.  Productivity, though, in the arena of friends and family, is somewhat another beast.  Do I make the best of the time and energy I devote to them?  After all, if I have a "higher power", it is only through my acquaintances that I am able to connect with it, so it is important that I am effective in a social or community context.  This is the manner in which I measure this particular kind of productivity.

"Fair", in this frame of reference, is sort of an amalgam of the above dialogs on "honesty" and "productivity", and is by far the most subjective to judge.  What seems fair to me may not meet your own standards, so we have to come to agreement, lest we fall out and begin to beat each other up over the definition of the word.  And that defeats the whole purpose of my attempts to be honest and productive with you.  I want you to like me, to trust me, to feel good about knowing me, and to keep coming back to me as a client or friend.  If you are family, you have no choice- we're stuck with each other.  Luckily, I'm pretty happy with my relatives.

Once again, the end result of this affirmation seems somewhat self-serving, and it is.  It's all about helping myself to become a better person. 

 

 

Pearl Harbor Day, stupendous rental offering

Yesterday's calendar featured a number of odd celebrations, resourced from my wealth of data regarding useless holidays.  But it also commemorated the entry of the US of A into the Big One- World War II, brought on by the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, on December 7, 1941.  Prior to that date, popular opinion in the US was pretty much laissez-faire, but American youth rose up in droves to invoke justice on the Axis powers, and the military-industrial complex was born (of honorable enough intentions, I must admit, regardless of your take on it today).  So here's to the greatest generation- thank you again, for putting yourselves on the line.

In a naked and undisguised plea for sympathy and financial gain, I am attaching these photos of my current living space, which by now you will know, if you follow this blog, I am putting up for rent.  I am vacating this abundant space (around two thousand square feet) for the smaller adjacent space in the front of the building.  I have lived in this space for twelve years now, and while I love its unique character and roominess, I can get by with much smaller living quarters.  So if you know of anyone who might be a candidate for less than a dollar per square foot monthly rent (plus utilities- contact me for details, please), by all means, pass on my contact info.  (Best to use e-mail to start: evets492003@bellsouth.net ) More to follow.........

The place has a rooftop deck and a great view of Atlanta's skyline, secure parking, and is in walking distance of restaurants and clubs in Atlanta's Old Fourth Ward neighborhood, near Inman Park.

My apologies for waxing mercenary here, but I'm claiming justification thusly:  On a site ostensibly devoted to creative and productive challenges in a lax economy, I am showing off my creative efforts (I designed and built the place from a former light industrial structure), and endeavoring to be productive by cutting my expenses and generating rental income.  You buying it?

 

Survival Mode- Downsizing

I have frequently espoused the "less is more" doctrine, but I can't say honestly that I've lived it.  I've got a lot of stuff.  Yeah, there are beaucoup of folks who have lots more, but I really do feel, at times, like a the living personification of a pack rat.  First off, I find it extremely difficult to throw things away.  At great risk of turning this into a gruesome confessional, I'll allow that I save paper bags (brown paper as well as designer), glass jars, rubber bands, bad cd's, and newspapers.  I have lots of what I call "heirloom herbs" in my pantry- so old they might have been left me by my mother.  (Hey, they're dried, okay.  They never go bad, right?)  Don't even talk to me about canned goods. My pantry makes me look like an apocalypse advocate- I could live for five years on the grains alone.  I have a storage room where I keep left-over paint I have accumulated.  I could do the Georgia Dome in rainbow hues.  I suppose that part of it comes from being a "jack-of-all-trades" kinda dude- one ends up collecting stuff related to a plethora of pursuits and pastimes. 

Well, I'm done being the guy who says, "Take my advice, I'm not using it."  Out of necessity, I am downsizing.  The necessity part has to do with being self-unemployed for nearly a year now.  While I feel I have lots of talents, none of them are paying at the moment, and I am taking that as a message from the universe to "simplify, simplify".  (Calm down, all you ex-marines- that was simplify, not semper fi...)  I actually got started with this process last spring, when I sold half my transportation fleet, leaving me with the lone aging Jeep Grand Cherokee, a delightfully utilitarian vehicle currently featuring no turn signals and a perpetually illuminated "check engine" light.  The latest development finds me contemplating a change in residence.  I currently live in the larger of two units in a building I own.  Actually, the bank owns it, and they seem to enjoy dangling re-fi opportunities before me and snatching them away at the last minute.  But I digress.  My tenant of six years in the smaller unit recently left, and I had dived into the process of cleaning up and repairing six years worth of bachelor-skateboarder-doggie grime, with the attitude that I'd make the place nice enough that I would be willing to live there myself.  (Trust me, it's been quite the challenge.)  A few days ago, it occurred to me that I could, in fact, live there, and rent out my current space, at twice the size and, in theory, twice the rent- which would pay my mortgage and still leave me with pizza money.  

I took the time yesterday to photograph some of the nicer features of my place, did a Craigslist posting, and am planning a moving sale (in the event that someone takes me up on my offer).  I'm sort of excited about the process of getting smaller and more space-efficient, and to the prospect of getting creative with the new space.  If anyone out there has any ideas about marketing it, or knows of anyone looking for a 2000 square foot loft apartment with a unique "look" and great light, please do let me know.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.  I'll not be posting tomorrow, having volunteered to help cook for a couple hundred of my closest friends.  Take care that your food doesn't fight back, as happened to this pooch....

Paint-Spraying and Puppies

Of all the tasks associated with home renovation/fix-up, I believe that painting is the most satisfying.  Well, it is for me, anyway.  If you're one of those folks who, on merely opening a can of paint, finds yourself spattered and smeared and leaving little spots of color everywhere you touch or step, my heart goes out.  I know lots of folks like that, and take heart- you too can become a spotless painter, commanding the color to go precisely where you wish, no dripping brushes or messy rollers- nothing but flawless finishes and exact edges.  Just get a copy of Painting for Dummies*, give it a few years of hands-on experience, and you're good to go.  Or hire a pro (for those possessed of more money than time).

What I like about painting is the ratio of "job satisfaction" to "energy expended".  After all the sawing and hammering (bashed and blacked fingers included), wiring and plumbing, and drywall mudding and finishing, the job still looks unfinished- a work in progress.  Then, as if by a stroke of wizardry, a few coats of paint transform it into a completed masterpiece.  (Again, that's assuming you are not paint-application-challenged.)  Yes, I agree; it's something of a truism that the final step in any process will generally be the most satisfying.  It's somewhat akin to always finding whatever you lost in the last place you look.  (Why would you look any further, eh?)  

Anyway, there is one bit of practical advice I'd like to pass on about the whole issue of painting.  If your project is a large one, and would benefit lots from speedy application of mass quantities of paint (say five gallons or more) over large surfaces (anywhere from the size of half a tennis court to the surface of the moon), you might want to consider renting a professional paint sprayer.  There are several monumental caveats here.  I say again, "Warning! Renting a paint sprayer can be hazardous to your serenity and sanity!"  All the messiness-related problems you might encounter in, say, painting a wicker chair with a can of Krylon, are multiplied a thousand-fold when you start mucking about with a sprayer.  Now that you possess the benefit of that caution, if you decide to proceed, remember two things: (One) Have the guy at the rental place thoroughly instruct you in how to use the thing, and (Two) Have him test the sprayer there at the rental counter before you leave with it. 

These caveats are not fool-proof.  I rented a sprayer yesterday to paint the ceiling of the rental unit in the front of my building. It's an open-joist ceiling, and I'm painting it flat black to camouflage all the pipes, hangers, and so on.  Given proper use and location of light fixtures and light-colored suspended panels, I expect it to appear a vast open space to infinity, rather than a depressing dark ceiling.  If my theory doesn't work, I hope to find a suitable goth-inclined tenant.  But I digress.  When I went to rent, the young man working the rental counter turned out to know nothing about painting, much less sprayers, and I ended up cannibalizing the four units he had to offer.  None of the individual units worked, but by assembling pieces of three of them (a spray nozzle from one, the gun from another, and a third supplied the compressor), I got a working spray painter, and went on to complete the job.  In order to forestall such surprises, I'd suggest a call to the rental store, to explain your level of expertise and verify that a knowledgable someone is there to help. So....I hope this manages to forestall any problems you might run into, should you need to tackle a big painting job.  Or you can call me- I need the work.

I had a brief chuckle when I saw that today is "National Chicken Lady Day" and was looking forward to an outrageous explanation for what the celebration is all about.  Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that the Chicken Lady is a real person, Tina Dupree, who is a motivational speaker of some renown.  If there is anything humorous to be found here, I guess it would be the fact that her day was declared by none other than George W. Bush, unarguably our funniest president ever. That distinction would no doubt be in danger had his daddy succumbed in office, leaving Dan Quayle as Commander-in-Chief.  Lest you question this opinion of mine, please refer to these quotes.  Ole Dan came out with some hilarious stuff.  (Never mind that he was serious as a tax accountant about his proclamations; he had us rolling....) One of my favorites: "It is time for the human race to enter the solar system...."  (Please do not interpret all this as a statement of disrespect for any particular political philosophy.  I think I have made clear my apprehensions about politicians in general.)

Finally, for all you World Series fans who are regretting the end of another year's games- I know how you feel:

BTW, if you like this blog, please forward it to everyone you can possibly think of.  I'd really love to monetize this thing, and right now, it looks like my best shot at ever being able to retire.

*Not real, as far as I know.

Routine vs. Rut, Loft Living

As much talking as I do about productivity and ways to be creative, and as much advice as I give about it, one would think I'd know how to live by my own counsel.  So often it turns out like the old one-liner, "Take my advice, I'm not using it."  Henny Youngman, maybe? (A funny man from long age, for you youngsters...)  One of the things I encourage people to do is to spend more time connecting with each other, but I have scarcely a half dozen lunch engagements to report, over the past year or so.   Two have been in the past week, and both were fruitful (not to mention immensely enjoyable) in multiple ways, not the least of which being fodder for this blog.  Lunch, anyone?

My friend Joe came over to my place for lunch yesterday (both of us being too cheap to spring for a sandwich in a restaurant).  He brought home-made salmon salad and I provided bread, beverages and my own freshly made chicken soup.  I think I can say we had better fare than Subway would have afforded.  Joe is a former colleague and fellow environmental graphic designer/wayfinding consultant who is, like me, currently struggling to find work.  He has resorted to re-training himself as a network engineer, for which I salute his wisdom and initiative.  We swapped lies and waxed philosophical over our soup and sandwiches, and attempted to poke fun at our respective situations.  One thing that Joe said in the course of our conversation was this: "I always believed that the root word for routine must be rut."  (Not what animals do when in heat, but rather rut as in"finding oneself in a rut".)

I have posted previously about the value of some kind of structure in my life (see posting from 8/28/2010), but I understood immediately where Joe was coming from.  If I let a routine become a mundane standard for continued behavior, I  am turning what has the potential to be a stable foundation for creativity and productivity,  into a rut- an excuse to continue with the status quo regardless of the benefits of doing so, or the lack thereof.  Good point, Joe.  Thanks, and best of luck with the network thing.

We also got on the topic of blogging, and specifically about this new endeavor of mine.  At this point I seem to be steering a lot of my conversations in that direction, and I do hope that my friends and associates will excercise some patience with me in that respect.   I  recognize that my current direction with this blog is rather broad in scope, but from what I read (mostly on blogs about blogging), this is okay for the newly initiated blogger.  Many successful bloggers speak of spending a while getting accustomed the the venue, so to speak, before focusing, in more topical blogs, on specific subjects.  So for now, at least, I vow to be consistent in my postings to this blog; espousing loudly on subjects I know a bit about, but about which I may not be considered "expert".  I may add categories from time to time, about which I may eventually decide to dedicate a topical blog.  One of the categories, being added today, as a matter of fact, is "Recycling the Urban Environment", suggested by the aforementioned Joe.  The building in which I live and work out of was a small engine repair facility located between Five Points in downtown Atlanta and Inman Park (Atlanta's first "suburb", today a part of the intown fabric), on Edgewood Avenue, a former light industrial strip which included the trolley line many of the Inman Park commuters used.  I intend on writing more about the process of renovating the building to its current use, and to devote future posts to my and others' experiences in undertaking similar projects.  Here's a couple photos of my place:

 

And here's a link to a gardening site- an article about winter squash- another wonderfood:

http://gardening.about.com/b/2010/09/24/a-winter-squash-for-everyone.htm