Category Archives: Special Touches

Tokaji Aszu

Daughter, Jessica, thoughtfully left me a New Year’s Eve gift since she wasn’t going to be home for it.  However, I have a cold and will wait until i feel better and so it can be shared with my dearest friend, Ivis.

Jessica packed this bottle all the way from her short visit to Budapest in early December to home in north Missouri!  This is a bottle of Sweet Quality Dessert Wine made from grapes infected with a fungus!  Weird.  Tokaji Aszú

Farming in the northeast area of Hungary near the Slovakia border.

Cheers!

tauna

 

It’s ALIVE!

Sometimes life can be really depressing, especially at the end of a long, cold winter and everyone is exhausted, but then just little things can really brighten your day!  Last summer, we razed our old house, but before doing so, we wanted to save the old rose bush that had been sheltered in a southeast facing corner for perhaps 60 years or maybe more!  A long time ago, a visitor suggested that it was called a ‘seven sisters rose‘ so-named because of the way the blossoms cluster in sevens.

So, we moved it.  I had called Mendenhall’s Florists & Nursery in Brookfield, MO for advice and found out that it would be nearly impossible to move it in the middle of the summer and have it survive, but we had no choice.

Christian Finck and Dallas Powell discussing strategy -although it all goes through me.
Christian Finck and Dallas Powell discussing strategy -although it all goes through me. The first steps were to remove the support structure then tie all the canes together. This heritage rose is exceptionally thorny.
We just sort of guessed at how much of the roots we needed balanced with how much we could realistically chop out.
We just sort of guessed at how much of the roots we needed balanced with how much we could realistically chop out. The log chain was looped well below the surface level.
Christian carefully backed the tractor while we kept a close on how the roots were going to fare with such force.
Christian carefully backed the tractor while we kept a close on how the roots were going to fare with such force.
After the bush was loaded, I wrapped the roots in a wet towel and Christian hauled it in the front end loader to our guest house (in which we had recently moved)
After the bush was loaded, I wrapped the roots in a wet towel and Christian hauled it in the front end loader to our guest house (in which we had recently moved)
Dallas packed the entire bush to the hole  we had already started.
Dallas packed the entire bush to the hole we had already started.
Alas, the hole that had been started was far from deep or wide enough, so the boys dug it out more and run into a tree root from the old Mulberry tree we had removed from the front yard.  So that had to be taken out before the hole could be enlarged any further.
Alas, the hole that had been started was far from deep or wide enough, so the boys dug it out more and run into a tree root from the old Mulberry tree we had removed from the front yard. So that had to be taken out before the hole could be enlarged any further.
Well, a bit droopy, but there it is!  I kept it well watered all during the dry heat of summer and fall.
Well, a bit droopy, but there it is! I kept it well watered all during the dry heat of summer and fall. Later, I cut the canes back very short to encourage root growth.
TODAY - 22 Mar 2015!  These signs of life indicate this hardy rose made it through a rough transplant in the wrong time of the year followed by an extremely long and bitterly cold winter.  Hooray!
TODAY – 22 Mar 2015! These signs of life indicate this hardy rose made it through a rough transplant in the wrong time of the year followed by an extremely long and bitterly cold winter. Hooray!

A Star Is Born?

Nathan here, guest writing once more!  This is the narrative essay I wrote for my dual credit Composition class at NCMC.  I had forgotten to release this story a couple weeks ago, but now I can claim that my blunder was simply a calculated step to save this tale for the one-year-anniversary of opening night for Les Miz.  So anyway, to the story!  Enjoy. My hands were shaking as the emcee finished his opening remarks, so I took a deep breath to slow my pulse as the orchestra began to play.  The line in front of me had begun shuffling forward onto the stage, mallets in hand, moving in time with the music.  Despite every instinct screaming for me to turn and run, I gripped my own mallet tightly and fell into step at the end of the line.  Two measures and four steps later, the hardwood floor of the wings gave way to large square sections of plywood and for the first time in my life, I stepped onto the stage as an actor.  Working for this moment had taught me perseverance far beyond any I had ever known, and now it was about to pay off. The entire saga had begun eight months earlier, when my music teacher, Olivia Coon, suggested I audition for a role in the upcoming production of Les Misérables being staged by Carousel Productions in Macon, Missouri.  The words “Les Misérables” had hardly left her mouth before I was asking when auditions would be held.  It had always been my dream to perform Les Miz, as it’s known to its fans, and besides, how hard could an audition possibly be? It turns out the audition was much harder than I could have imagined.  On a cold November evening, I walked into the Royal Theatre for the first time, at once supremely confident and extraordinarily nervous.  People continued to trickle in until the whole lobby was full; by the time I was called into the audition hall there were at least 50 people, and with every competent-looking individual who had entered, my confidence had taken a hit.  Suffice it to say, a bad case of nerves and a shattered confidence did not serve me well during my audition.  Little more needs to be said except to explain that I was assigned spoken lines in a musical. In spite of my setback, I was determined to carve a role for myself; so when rehearsals began in January, I decided that if I still failed, it would not be for a lack of effort.  I made sure to arrive on time, if not early, for every rehearsal.  I practiced every chorus and every minor solo.  I leapt at any opportunity to fill in lines if someone was absent and to accept whatever part was available.  By the time the cast was finalized at the end of the month, I was rehearsing as Courfeyrac, one of the students; Constable #1; and as a convict in the chain gang. February was a hard month; whereas January had been very fluid and relaxed, with most of our rehearsal time being spent solely on the music, in February we moved into the theatre and discovered the challenge of fitting 60 people into a space designed for a much smaller cast.  I think the cast’s first realization that this was real— that our community theatre truly was performing Les Miz— came in this first week of February, as we quieted our jokes, shortened our conversations, and extended our rehearsals.  We no longer had time to sit and chat, especially those of us with multiple roles.  It was not uncommon to see fellow actors run from one wing, down the stairs, and into the dressing room to change, all before racing back to the other staircase to be in position for the next scene.  Because of these challenges, it was in this month that the bonds amongst our cast were forged.  Whether it was reminding someone of their position or helping a friend tie his ascot, we realized that we must support one another for the show to succeed. With just three weeks until the show a sense of urgency developed in the cast.  We were now able to run through the entire show consecutively, but we still were not close to having a stage worthy performance.  Despite any worry this may have caused our directors, though, we never panicked.  Much of why we were able to stay calm and focused can be attributed to the efforts of the principals; those people who held lead roles and helped lighten the mood while never being distracting.  Our Jean Valjean, Joel Vincent, was especially supportive of our motley assortment of revolutionary students, and even when we completely botched a scene, he would always be there with a silent high-five and congratulations. Finally, with a week to go, we were ready.  All the patience on our director’s behalf, all the determination of the actors, and all the tolerance of our families had come to this point— now there was nothing to do but wait. The tension in the air was palpable on opening night.  The audience’s, the cast’s, my own, it all washed together as we, the chain gang, entered stage right.  An expectant hush fell over the crowd as the two lines of convicts opened the show, our footsteps in time with our rhythmic chant as we reached our positions on stage.  I took my spot in the front corner of the stage, dropped to my knees, mallet held ready, and waited for the cue to start work. Our mallets kept the rhythm throughout the scene, but the crowd didn’t notice; they were enthralled by the energy sparking between Javert and Valjean.  “Do not forget me,” you could almost hear the audience as they took a breath in anticipation of Javert’s final line, “2-4-6-0-1!”  The rest of the chain gang and I stood, turned, and exited the way we had entered, and as we left, we echoed the ominous words of the chain gang’s lullaby: “Look down, look down, you’ll always be a slave, look down, look down, you’re standing in your grave.”  The thundering applause that escorted us from the stage didn’t make me feel like a slave, however: as I raced down the stairs to change for the next scene, I felt as though I could fly.

Repurposing Lumber

photos 001 - Copy
Assembling the tools and supplies usually takes longer than accomplishing the task!

Last summer, we took down the old horse barn behind our house and salvaged as much lumber as possible.  Built in 1899, it had far outlived its usefulness and had become, not only an eyesore, but unsafe as well.  Jeff McCotter used some of the planks and timbers to build a stunning platform bed, as well as, these beautiful picture frames.  I finally got around to taking some old glass to Hometown Hardware  and having glass cut for them, then i finally ordered and received the frame turn buttons to hold the photos in and the hangers, then finally cut foam board pieces for backing.  Then FINALLY, this morning, assembled the whole affair.  If you had frames made like i did, would you want them to come back with glass, backing, turn buttons and hanger already installed?  or would you prefer gathering the materials and doing those parts yourself?

turn buttons and hanger installed on one picture
Turn buttons and hanger installed on one picture. I discovered that the screwdriver set for my DeWalt 18V power drill did not contain a driver small enough for these tiny screws. I ended up using a hand screwdriver which was probably the better choice for this job anyway.
Finished and hanging.  Might look better stained darker, but for now, i'll enjoy them au naturale.
Finished and hanging. Might look better stained darker, but for now, i’ll enjoy them au naturale.
Bed 030
Hand crafted platform bed built entirely of planks and posts from our vintage 1899 horse barn from the Lamme Farm.

Bed 018

Yerba Maté

My dear friend Ivis from Bolivia introduced me to Yerba Maté several years ago and I’ve been hooked on it since.  Described as ““strength of coffee, the health benefits of tea, and the euphoria of chocolate” all in one non-alcoholic beverage.

blog photos 010
Cure your gourd before using. 1) Fill gourd halfway with mate and fill with hot water. 2) Soak for 24 hours. 3) Remove herb and thoroughly scrape gourd pulp from inside using a spoon.
blog photos 007
4) Repeat steps 1-3 a second time 5) Give it a final hot water rinse
mate 001
With a tiny spoon (souvenir size), I scoop in about four spoonfuls and fill with not quite boiling water. Some people add sugar. Be careful – the bombilla will get hot!

Be culturally in vogue with a gourd and bombilla to properly enjoy your maté,

Yerba Mate contains caffeine, so check out possible drug interactions and side effects.

Cultivation (from Wikipedia).  The Yerba mate plant is grown and processed in South America, specifically in northern Argentina (Corrientes,Misiones), Paraguay, Uruguay and southern Brazil (Rio Grande do Sul, Santa Catarina, Paraná and Mato Grosso do Sul). Cultivators are known as yerbateros (Spanish) orervateiros (Brazilian Portuguese).