We've seldom had mice in the house but recently the door to the garage was left open a bit overnight and a couple of days later we discovered some "tracks." I set two traps baited with our usual peanut butter. One dead mouse in the morning. I reset the trap but forgot to check them that evening. The next morning the traps were still set but the bait was gone. So I added more peanut butter and the next morning again the bait was gone from one trap but there was a line of ants polishing off the last of the peanut butter on the other. Foiled by ants, not a smart or very lucky mouse! On to plan two . . .

Last of the Summer Wine is my favorite. We watched it as it was dribbled out by PBS. Then I happened onto a complete set of CDs on eBay for a ridiculously low price. Never mind that I had to invest in a region free video player. We're now about halfway through the 30 seasons. It's the longest running britcom, hands down. We'd never seen some of the early episodes and it's been great fun seeing the others again.

Now that we've got the all region player, I'm on the lookout on some other series that have never been made for the USA.

That's not "skin" you are seeing, that's plastic or other coating that has been laminated onto the blank material that may or may not be actual leather. The center one certainly looks like some kind of fiber.

Real leather is the whole skin and the top layer will show "grain" or pores where the hair originally grew. But careful, the imitators are very good at adding a "grain" effect to the fake surface. It looks good to start with but doesn't withstand the stretching and twisting that a belt gets. "Full Grain" leather is usually used to describe "real" leather but Top Grain can also describe leather with the back skived to make a thinner leather. Sometimes leather is even split with the "flesh" side portion getting a new imitation top surface. The older the cow/bull, the thicker the leather, and good belting and saddle leather isn't cheap, especially the longer lengths!

I started working with leather about 65 years ago and have a belt from my early high school days that is still in great condition. The only problem is it didn't grow up (and "out") with me!

Growing up, I lived in a small town in central Kansas. The Rock Island mainline from LA to Chicago came right through the middle of town. Being on flat land with straight track and miles from anyplace important, at least three trains a day came through at full speed -- two passenger trains going east and west, and the Pacific Fruit Express that left LA daily for Chicago with only two stops -- one in Tucumcari, NM for ice and Hoisington, KS for a crew change. It was usually too long for the majority of sidings so was given the right of way. There were lights and bells at the crossing and you could hear the whistle, but going south, the view to the west was blocked by a huge brick building that housed the local Chevrolet dealer. At the speed those trains traveled, it gave little time even if you were being careful.

About 65 years ago now. I was walking back to school after lunch and had just turned north away from the tracks a block away. We lived just a block from the tracks so I didn't really pay attention to the train until the engineer changed from the usual double warning blasts to a short blast followed by a continuous blast that echoed off the downtown buildings. Then I heard the crash, but before I could turn around the lead engine had already cleared the crossing and wheels were screeching as the train came to a stop.

A electric line-building crew had come into town for lunch. Six of them were in a fully loaded (transformers, wire reels, etc.) double-cab truck. The truck was in the middle of the crossing when the train hit and the truck was just wrapped around the front of the engine. Miraculously, the train didn't derail but because of the speed and weight of the train that was over a mile long, the caboose had only cleared the intersection by a little bit when the train came to a stop. Close enough that the crossing lights and bells continued to flash and ring until the train was finally moved several hours later. Two of the linemen survived as did the train brakeman, but the engineer had a heart attack and died later in the day. The city ask for and got crossing bars.

Several years later, a herd of sheep had escaped their fence out east of town and as the Fruit Express approached, they decided they should be on the other side of the tracks. Several made it but about 300 others just continued to run under the wheels as the train went past. Again it took about a mile for the train to stop and they were surprised that the train didn't derail.

Again several years later we had moved to a town nearby where there is a long curve on a fill that approaches a bridge. The Fruit Express slowed to about 40 mph for the curve but for some reason several cars jumped the track on the curve and rolled down the embankment. The wooden iced cars happened to be filled with crates of cantaloupe. There were splintered cars and crates spread over about two blocks along the tracks. The RR opened the site for people to take as much cantaloupe as they could use but there was still a massive amount left with much smashed. Then the Kansas sun came out and you didn't want to be anywhere in the area or downwind for the next couple of weeks!

The final twist to this story is that I spent the last few years working in a building about a hundred feet from a Union Pacific mainline in Salem, Oregon. Trains went by quite often and some of them moving pretty fast. There is a crossing about a block away so warning whistles were quite common and I learned to generally ignore them. But one day I reacted and my heart started racing -- I realized I had heard a short blast followed by a very long one as the train went past and that had caused a flashback of 60+ years to when I heard the same whistle sequence before the train hit the line truck.

Stay safe and watch the crossings.

Just saved the shipping hassle -- bought the saw at Home Depot yesterday for $99 !
I'll try to look surprised when I find it under the Christmas tree.

I've hauled many a load of rock for short distances on a flatbed truck.
The tie-downs held the 4x4s or 6x6s in place to contain the load and the timbers were easily removeable so that the rock could be pushed off or drug off the side of the truck where needed.

________

Thanks, I appreciate the note.
Many times I have marveled at how the extended family came together in support and also the friends and neighbors in the Quaker farming community of which we were a part.

My uncle had his own plane and worked for Beechcraft in Wichita. An airstrip had been built on the family farm about 80 miles west of Wichita and he and his wife would fly out for weekends. I don't know if it was my first flight but it's the first I remember. We flew about five miles and circled my maternal grandparents' house until they came out and waved. I remember vividly that they looked so small but the white propane tank in the yard seemed huge.
My aunt had been badly burned in a car accident and it was very painful for her to ride the 80 miles to Wichita for treatment and skin grafts, so Carl would fly her back and forth as necessary. Only weeks or days later when I was about two-and-a-half, Carl flew out to to take Thelma to Wichita. It was a very cold March morning. My dad wanted to learn to fly and took every opportunity to fly with his brother. I wanted to go also but my mom vetoed it because it was so cold. So the brothers took off to warm the plane up a bit before Thelma got in. They flew about 20 miles and circled the home of my mom's sister until she came out and waved, then they headed back toward the farm. About two miles later there was a mechanical failure and the brothers died instantly in the crash. Both wives were expecting and I had a sister and another cousin within a month. The extended family gathered around our moms and us.
Sorry that this was a "downer" story, but sometimes life isn't always as we would have liked. The three of us cousins have shared a special bond for nearly 75 years now and there are many happy memories.

Great shot. It reminded me of an instance several years ago before I retired from working at a company that prints identification stakes, labels, etc. for for nurseries and bedding plant growers. A customer from southern Arizona called wanting some labels for Queen Anne's Lace but was puzzled when he couldn't find a listing in our catalog or a photo in our photo library. He offered to ship us a plant from his nursery so we could photograph it and then print some ID stakes for him -- this was before digital cameras were common. Our sales department assured him that there would be no problem taking a photo as Queen Anne's Lace was considered a weed in Oregon and that there hundreds of 5-foot tall plants in the vacant lot across the street from our front door!

Reading the comments brought back a lot of memories. This last weekend we celebrated our youngest grandson's high school "drive thorough" graduation followed a little later in the day by a parade through town.

We watched the grandkids struggling to learn to drive and remembered when our kids were learning to drive -- along with a couple of fender benders. I fully remember their amazement when I told them that I didn't even remember learning to drive!

I grew up on a farm and it was just "normal" to learn how the tractors and pickups were operated from a very early age -- usually when you could both push the clutch to the floor AND see over the dashboard. The tractor came a little earlier because there was a hand clutch. We were in the country and we never got out of first gear or even "granny." The only times I really remember having to specifically practice was backing the pickup and also backing two- and four-wheeled trailers with the tractor. Other than that it was a slow continual advance in distance or difficulty of what I needed to do with the vehicle. Strict attention was given to safety and following the rules and that applied to working with animals too!

I specifically remember one day during wheat harvest when I had ridden to the field with my grandfather who was driving our recently purchased dual-axle grain truck. When we finished leveling out the load of wheat, he climbed into the passenger seat and said, "Take 'er out'a here." My only "instruction" had been my own questions about the gearing and two-speed transmission. He just said, "It's no different than the other truck just more gears -- just take it slow and easy," and then did a quick review of the gear sequence. I knew full well that I was in the middle of a very sandy field with a full load and a good chance of getting stuck. Upon getting to the road without incident, I asked, "What would you have done if I'd gotten stuck? His answer, "Same thing as if I'd gotten stuck. Let YOU walk to the house to get the tractor and chain!"

About a week later, I turned 14 and went in to take my test for a "Farm Permit" that was available to those who resided on a farm. It allowed driving on farm related activities by the most direct route either alone or with a licensed adult. I passed the written part and then was asked if I wanted to take the driving test or get a learner's permit. I decided to go ahead -- the worst I could do was fail. I passed the test and drove home. Over the next week I drove the dual-axle truck a couple of times on the 18-mile trip to the grain elevator with my aunt as "co-pilot" -- she was the usual driver hauling loads during harvest. Then one afternoon we had the big truck loaded ready to go and she wasn't back yet, so they sent me alone. When I got back just before supper and my mom realized that I'd gone alone, she about had a heart attack.

I don't remember being concerned about going alone, but when I remember my kids and grandkids at that age, I kind of shake my head an wonder.

We also used the sand augers to anchor large display kites, but that day, the guys taking down the volleyball net didn't think about them. They wouldn't have been really obvious once the rope was untied. A couple of days had passed before we realized they were missing and it was really to far just to go hunt for them. So we just always assumed that somebody found them or they are still buried in the shifting sand. That hasn't stopped us looking for them when we have been there.

Great shots! I especially like the first one.
It's been a few years since we were there last — too many options when going to the coast — but our daughter and family camped there last weekend. It was a favorite of our kids when they were growing up and we spent many hours there flying kites. There are two sand augers buried in the beach there that were used to support a volleyball net on an birthday outing for our son and some of his friends. We didn't miss them until we got home. Just part of 50+ years of memories at the Oregon coast.

Years ago I frequented a restaurant that had complimentary individually wrapped toothpicks at the cash register. Not so unusual other than that the center portion of the toothpicks were square -- only the tips were round. The result was a toothpick that didn't roll in you fingers and were stronger than common round toothpicks.
I found a source for them and bought a box of maybe a 1000.
This last summer I ran out and was afraid that they might might not be still available, but a quick internet search proved my worries were in vain.

Forester -- Round with square center Tooth Picks
Made in USA from quality White Birch

I bought them off eBay

The Pantone Matching System (PMS) colors are standards for a wide range of spot colors in printing ink, plastic, and textiles. The company produces swatches as standards of the various colors and provides formulas for mixing the ink colors using the range of mixing colors that they have defined. Red 032 is one of those mixing colors -- it is NOT a Process Color.

Pantone has also defined standards for Process Yellow, Process Magenta, Process Cyan, and Process Black -- CMYK.

Color standards are further complicated by video screen colors being RGB — Red, Green and Blue light which in equal amounts equal white — just the opposite of inks where equal amounts produce black by obscuring the white of the paper.

Theoretically the conversion from one system to the other and to paper is very straightforward, BUT it is very hard to produce inks and toners that are of the exact correct color, papers are not always a neutral balanced white, it's very difficult to mechanically produce and position the right amount of each color — often in microscopic dots, and even the order in which the inks or toners are deposited make a difference. Then there is the human eye that can detect the change of a fraction of a percent of one of the colors.

Trying to imitate specific PMS colors with process colors can be a study in futility. Some can be matched very closely, but for others, even using the percentages of process colors suggested by Pantone will not be even close.

Cyan is sometimes referred to as "blue" and magenta as "red." When I first started doing color separations, an important question was whether the pressman would be using Rubine Red or Rhodamine Red ink for the magenta. Today's ink-makers have standardized on a magenta that is somewhere between the two. Rubine Red and Rhodamine Red continue today along with Red 032 and Warm Red as mixing colors in the Pantone Matching System.

Many years ago we saw Red was coming to Portland, Oregon on tour. We really wanted to go and take out three grade- and middle-school kids but the tickets just seemed out of reach -- no discount for kids. Just a few day before the show we decided to "bite the bullet" and attend if tickets were still available. They were, but were at the very top of the balcony. We decided it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see him in person so went ahead.
The theatre was nearing the end of a long restoration and the Skelton show was one of the first events in the refurbished auditorium. We climbed to the top of the balcony and to our surprise we discovered that our assigned seats had backs but no seats! WE came back down and I caught an usher and explained our dilemma. He raced to the top to confirm what we had found, apologized, and headed off to find the head usher. We stood there waiting, envisioning the possibility of a fun night out going up in smoke.
When the head usher arrived and looked at the tickets, to our amazement he pointed to five folding chairs in a box at the front of the balcony near the middle -- we had some of the best seats in the house!
Red came on and did about and hour, took a fifteen-minute break, and came back to do another hour of routines that were mostly audience requests. Several included pratfalls, which was amazing considering his age at the time. The kids still remember that night over 30 years ago with fondness.
The next day Red made an unannounced visit to a local gallery that sold his paintings in our little town about 25 miles from Portland -- that set downtown abuzz for awhile. I was at work about a block-and-a-half away and missed the whole thing!