The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Friday, August 31, 2012

“It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us...on the inside, looking out.” ~Jonathan Safran Foer

“It is impossible to grasp another human's inner world. But even in the darkness of the densest forest, there can always be the light of a firefly.” ~ Krupakar, Birds, Beasts, and Bandits: 14 Days with Veerappan

He spread a cloud for a covering; and a fire to give light in the night. Psalm 105:39

And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light; to go by day and night:  Exodus 13:21



Thursday, August 30, 2012

Pottery efforts




This little wind map (SVC) is just super cool ... kinda love it.  Husband just asked me if it's going to rain on his golf game tomorrow.  This image doesn't especially help me answer that question, but I can see the way the wind is blowing ... and ... I will guess that tomorrow will be just slightly clearer here then today has been.  Hope Mississippi needed water!  I wonder what the winds aloft are doing ... .  Now I'm really going to have to look at the charts.

I spent this morning up at the church painting a tree on a wall.  They want two of them.  Looking like another three mornings will get that lovely.  I enjoyed my time up there.  Here is a photo of the tree ... they asked for it to be bare of leaves because the leaves will be added over the year to support the idea of "growth".  I imagine they will have memory verse and such ... maybe the children will receive a leaf to hang on a branch as an attendance thing.  I look forward to seeing how they will use it.  Another tree is planned for the other side of the room and I imagine "tying" a festive line of banners between the two.  I think it is what they wanted, and it does cheer the room up a bit.

This week's project at home has been prepping the stair well for new paint and it has been a bit of a mess. Stairwell walls are tricky.  It's going to look pretty cool when we get it done I think.  The girls have asked for chevron stripes on the risers ... and that's what I'm going to do for them.  I'm going to stain the wood steps and the hand rail as dark as possible and paint the risers creamy HG white ... the stripes will be black.  I'll get a before and after picture up later. Three had to remove several of the stair boards to get his box springs out ... and the door frame.  Perfect time to get everything freshened up and back together.

96/1000

H called the other day and reminded me of our little talk on Lindor's delicious truffles ... and I thought "That crazy child is the only soul on the planet who I would even be able to share the Lindor burden with ... buddy girls are just great."

She told me this story:

“And so seated next to my father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"
He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case off the floor and set it on the floor.
Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.
I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
It's too heavy," I said.
Yes," he said, "and it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.” ~ Corrie Ten Boom


or in brief:

“Some knowledge is too heavy...you cannot bear it...your Father will carry it until you are able.” ~CTB

 She encourges me to remember that ... heard it a long time ago, a variation of it, and it is a perfect illustration of relationship between God and a soul who trusts. It has my heart thinking this morning.  Some knowledge ... some stuff I don't know about at all, like the child on the train ... some I do "know" but don't understand ... stuff too heavy for me.

“This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.” ~CTB

Maybe this idea of "every experience" ... I sure don't credit every experience I've found my wayward way in to as being God-given, but I do think it's entirely possible that He knows how to perfectly lace them into a future which only He can see.  

Corrie Ten Boom ... Quotes

Truffles ... not on my list for now. ... and that's okay.



Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future.
Faith is having the courage to dance to it today. ~ Dr. Peter Kuzmic,
theologian, Slovenian-born, citizen of Croatia

~ found photo of
 St. Augustine Lighthouse

Dennis Anderson ... Auroral Display



"Ion Butterfly" Captain Cook State Park, Kenai Peninsula, Alaska
Fantastic colors were produced in a spectacular show that was visible on this night in many parts of the globe as far south as Mexico and Cuba. The eruption of a "super flare" on our sun sent a barrage of charged particles Earthward that resulted in the most intense shock-front ever recorded. The subsiquent geomagnetic storm and subsiquent auroral display was, for many, a once in a lifetime look at this beautiful natural phenomenon.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Thoughts about writing ... I'm trying to think of my favorite books, novel type books that is, and I guess my favorite author is James Clavell ... just wow.

James Clavell, who died in 1994, was a screenwriter, director, producer, and novelist born in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. Although he wrote the screenplays for a number of acclaimed films, including The Fly (1958), The Great Escape (1963), and To Sir With Love (1967), he is best known for his epic novels in his Asian Saga.

Also memorable was Thornbirds and Roots ... I like the Michner books, but I haven't made it a point to read all his books ... yet.

Those books have in common ... scale ... each are big stories.


My husband tells me that the shades of grey trilogy is the ... well, he said 20% of all books sold right now are the grey books.  I haven't read them.  Nor did I read the, ummm, those werewolf/vampire books.  One and I saw part of one of the movies and I thought, wow, an entire generation of young women spoon fed the idea that this is love ... he may kiss me or he may drain my life force ... on second thought ... lol, ouch. 

Recently finished reading the book, Picture Perfect, by Jodi Pichoult ... from the back cover:

"... a cycle of hurt, denial, and promises ... torn between fear and something that resembled love ... how could she leave ... how could she stay?" 

The Library Journal says this is an important book from a talented writer.  I don't disagree with the fact that she is a talented writer with a formidable imagination. The characters in this book resolved their physical issues by creating physical distance ... the emotional/spiritual aspects remained entangled within a tragic love net which ensnared others as well. I'm trying to think of why the book might be important, and I guess an answer (for me) is that it illuminates how individuals find their way in to abusive relationships, why they stay there, and how those relationships may play out.  Ms. Picoult, educated at both Princeton and Harvard, has successfully sold a ton of books.  A third story of hers is sitting on my bedside table right now.  Last night it sat un-opened while I searched the Internet for something that would make me laugh.  I wound up looking at a You-tube video tutorial on how to create a cowboy hat from an empty beer case box ... big USMC ink and a twang. Life seems to be full of tragedies. 

Two had a thought for a book.  How about you take the Disney princesses and re-write their stories.  Yeah, the prince can tell Snow White that he just can't get around that whole running away and living with seven men thing ... he loves her but ... . Or with Aladdin ... the princess "loves" him, but realizes he is a compulsive liar, a thief, homeless, totally unreliable ... not the life mate she needs.  Mulan's guy falls in love with her while she is masquerading as a man ... uhhh, possibly some bromance issues there.  Or this ... Sleeping Beauty's prince kisses a corpse... ugh ... and his kiss re-animates her!  Little Mermaid's prince comes upon her when she is naked and without a voice ... that's some kind of beginning for true love story. Sounds like a good beginning for a Master's thesis.

Important stories ... hmmm.  Love is important.  I've seen a couple of epic real life love stories this year.  I'm living a complicated love story ... aren't we all?  Aren't all our very important connections about love?  


Different topic ... Neil Armstrong ... a face on an epic story.

Galileo's pendulum clock
Galileo: the Cosmos through a telescope 
What does something like this (pictured above) have to do with that story?  Where do stories begin?  Where do they end ... what is the story that is constantly retold, the peddle point to the song of life?


Or this very good thought ... interesting on a human level.
Interesting as we relate to each other  
interesting within the concept of how/where we relate to God.  

How do we discover who we are and how we might most successfully interact with others? 
I think that may be Ms. Picoult's genius.  She seems to explore the psychological aspects of human connections.

well ... back to re-finishing doors!  Hand work is pretty easy stuff ... stick with the check list!

Monday, August 27, 2012

Sunday


Pretty much a perfect day.  Really ... I want to remember some stuff from today.
When I woke up this morning I was happier then usual because while asleep I dreamed myself in that place where I flew to in my loop dream.  It's a really good place.  I should try to describe it, but ... I don't know a place like that.  It's more about how it feels there.  The road I was walking along was dirt ... that soft dirt that's more like sand ... powdery dirt, and the road, while it seemed to be an old road, was cut in and maintained by one of those yellow tractor things. It feels like an old place ... comfortable, familiar. This place feels like out in the country, it's natural, alive, and there are people there, but I didn't see anyone I know from life.  It's peaceful there.  There's a big ... huge ... tree with a swing hanging in it, and the rope is so long that you can really go way too high ... and the grass is soft underfoot. Remembering it, I see my feet bare which I never do unless I am at the coast. I think it may be near the coast, but I haven't seen any birds there, so, I'm not sure.  This is what I want to remember ... people were singing there.  Oh man, it was great.  I heard three different people singing during my dream ... they had really wonderful voices. One, a man, was singing in what seemed like a very clean small barn ... the acoustics were amazing and I remember looking at the structure's shape wondering how the space was constructed to carry the sound around so well.  I noted that it has like a barn roof at that time and the singer noticed that I was looking around, my eyes searching the probably flow of the sound.  He smiled at me and nodded ... like, yep, it's a cool space to sing in.  Hearing them filled me with happy.  When I woke up I could humm one of the songs, but I have forgotten it entirely now.  The other thing that I barely remember is I heard a baby crying and I went towards the sound to help it.  I very gently placed my hand on it's chest to let it know that I was there and it immediately stopped crying, opened it's eyes and smiled in to me ... and suddenly there were seven babies, they were all smiling at me.  In the dream I thought how strange that they all look exactly alike and move in sync with one another.  I said to them everything will be all right now.
I like that I have constructed such a nice place.  A barefoot place, a place where ropes are used for hanging swings, a place where music perfumes the air ... I am comfortable, without a care there.  Maybe it is heaven.  This isn't supposed to be a dream log, but ... I think I will always hope to visit this place in my sleep.  I want to remember it as well as possible when I am awake.

Next ... church.  Beautiful sermon about being a friend with the Holy Spirit.  The verses were from Ephesians 4 mainly.  Pastor used an illustration of a child at a Van Cliburn type event ... the child wanders on stage and begins tapping on the keys as children do ... the virtuoso joins the child and filling in the chords, together they create something special.  Pastor says we are "plunkers" ... all of us, but the Holy Spirit is just waiting in the wings for the opportunity to join us at the piano.  He made the point that the HS is sorta shy ... his friendship is not about acquiring and wielding referent power.  His power enables us to live more like Christ, not more powerfully entrenched in our frailties.

Later Two showed me this video ...  kinda cool ... . We spent some time together on the front porch. Then I had some time alone.  Still time.  I really like it, I like that I have learned how to be still.
I wanted to re-read that loop dream thing I noted and I wanted to think about the place I flew to ... the place trust flew me to.  A favorite place.  People wonder at these words this  somethings are true which never happened ... attributed to Elie Wiesel ... this dreamed place happened again, it feels quite true "... life does not consist mainly -- or even largely -- of facts and happenings. It consists mainly of the storm of thoughts that is forever blowing through one's head. " ~ Mark Twain  I  think these guys are on to something.

 It cracks me up that I basically sat on the porch tossing seeds, landing them on Redbud leaves ... ridiculously amusing and other then that doing nothing 'cept noting the wild life and the breeze ... and ... wondering about random goofy stuff ... relaxing.

summer

Saturday, August 25, 2012

95/1000

this evening  ... sitting on the front porch finishing up the book I was reading ... listening to the evening insects warming up their hummers and a bird in the pecan tree cooing ... summer night dropped like a an eyelet edged curtain and the yard lights winked awake ... I sat still as a small smile ... relaxing while the fire flies flitted in and out of the hydrangeas

photo from Pinterest ~uncredited

Storms ... Shelter ... Love

National Hurricane Center weather graphic from this morning ... loosely translates:  Today would be a good day to check and restock the storm pantry!  Earlier today I looked for recipes for cooking when you have no power ... from mostly canned foods.   The cookbook, A Man, A Can, A Plan  has made it's way to Texas I do believe ... .
What usually happens here is we lose electrical power.  Several storms
ago we were without for about two weeks.  As soon as was possible I changed my kitchen stove to gas.  So much better, even on clear days. The tall tress pull the power lines down.  Seems like a lot of this area has above ground electrical cable.

 beautiful from way away ... storms are something to be as ready as possible for ... I'm going to grind some coffee beans in a minute.  Isaac means laughter, laughing ... .

 I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm. ~Psalm 55:8 (NIV)

I read it early this morning before I got out of bed, another translation substituted ... well, here:

How quickly I would escape--far from this wild storm of hatred ~Ps 55:8 (NLT)

Sometimes it's interesting to see how different people translated these ancient texts.  I still don't understand a lot of the passages in Psalms, but, I'm trying.  The book is surprisingly tender at times ... it helps me quite a bit to begin the day with readings there.
My brother and I are discussing the idea of how and who does one decide to love ... and ... what does that mean.  Gosh, I enjoy talking with him about stuff.  My brother is a good man. Well, he is a bit of a stinker too, but I am a big fan ... I've especially liked him for a very long time.  Well anyway, my main question or ponderance (lol) is kinda difficult to express.  I am wondering if one can truly love a person they have never met.  Like ... I really like some writers ... big fan of Thoreau and Emerson, Longfellow, Eliot ... these guys write words that provide shelter.  A short cut to what T and I are talking about ... These writer guys have been given a place in my heart, but they came in through my mind.  That probably doesn't make sense.
I love my kids ... that love is from my heart to my mind ... I love them because they are my family, chosen by my heart, my mind can not evict them. ... Ummm, strangers ... also chosen by the heart I believe, because when my mind starts getting involved I am cautious (not a bad thing).  The people who my eyes never see ... how do I love them?  Do I love them?  That's what we are talking about, and I think yes.  Yes and it's interesting because I love them with my mind ... my mind loves them ... or the them my mind sees them to be (which is very one dimensional).  But, I think it is a sort of love none the less.  And ... isn't that precisely how I come to love God?  Some of the words in His book eventually penetrate my heart, but they come to my heart from my mind. And ... as this:
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’[b] 31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[c] There is no commandment greater than these. ~Mark 12:30 and 31
 I think the words are chosen for their significance ... they mean something different from each other. Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength.
I think I know love with my heart.  Also with my mind.  I think I understand what it means to love with my strength ... sometimes love requires lotsa strength ... love isn't easy.  With my soul ... harder to grasp in some ways and yet I think my soul knows.  That's what I'm trying to think about.  The soul seems to love generically as well as specifically ... I can see why love is such a big deal.
thoughts added this morning to my notes on Dust

for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. ~Psalm 103:14
to the One who remembered us in our low estate His love endures forever ~Psalm 136:23
and that there is even any type of channel through which love may flow between dust and the Creator is amazing ... amazing that any of us is able to love in any capacity ... amazes me.  And yet ... we do, we know we do. We can see the evidence of love.
Storms ... shelter ... love.  That's what I'm trying to think about. 
And this ... the rock is good.
Ps 27:5 For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock. 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Jet A was $5.20
Nightmares ... the kind that grab a fist full of your gut ... and twist.  I wake up wide-eyed ... I am not smack dab in the middle of an aerial war zone ... thousands of feet above stable mother earth.  Familiar shadows reassure me ... a glass of water right there beside my bed.  I sit up pushing the damp hair away from my neck ... and I breathe, ssshhing myself.  It is so dark outside, and quiet ... deep night. My toes trace tiny circles on the wood floor ... Shhhsh just a bad dream ... . 

Yeah ... same dream.  I think this one is worse the the swinging suspension bridge.  The floor boards in that one would fall away as I passed over them.  "Don't look down ... keep moving forward ... there is no turning back", that's what I would tell myself and finally after many nights of peril I arrived on  bloodied knees at the door ... the destination ... it was freaking locked!  The cool thing about re-occuring dreams is eventually one realizes that this is the dream.  I told myself to have the key next time.  I wore it around my neck like a talisman ... that dream series ended with the turning of the door handle.  Gosh I'm glad I don't dream that anymore. It woke me up with a pounding heart and sweaty palms ... seemed so real, I am surprised I didn't have rope burns and splinters. I don't laugh at that nightmare now, but I do smile when I remember it ... I made it through.  Why does the unconscious brain take us anywhere other then ... on vacation?  I think I am going to do some dream research.

Most recently, I had been dreaming that I was co-pilot on a flight that was in big trouble.  Storms, Dark, Annunciators which I could hear but not see ... Low Fuel ... the unmistakeable smell of an electrical fire, maybe the fire had been extinguished, the cockpit seemed to be in a cloud of it's own.  The dream mutates in repetition, and when I'm awake reflecting on it, it's fuzzy as dreams tend to be, but I know that I am worried about low fuel and I am worrying about Va ... that's what I always wake remembering ... that and that the lightning explodes brightly in to large open places ... sometimes I can see the ground below ... it's exactly where it should be and I think there are several good ways to get the plane to there.  (Awake it reminds me of what hope really is.) The captain seems hell bent on besting this many tailed night beast.  I seem to be along for the ride in my own dream.  Ummm ... that doesn't seem right!  After several nights of this dream I composed myself and said ... yeah, we need to land as soon as possible.  Perfect.  Exactly what needs to happen next in a nightmare like that. It was a dream about a power struggle with the elements, natural and otherwise ... but it should have been a dream about ... a safe landing. That's not what happened, but the dream did stop.  I stopped having the dream.  For several nights I have just slept through.  Thank God ... I have been tired.

I think that dream means something.  And ... I think dreaming-me did, and said, eventually, what I could.  I think dreaming-me figured it out.  I was thinking I needed to save the flight cause the captain was, ummm, captivated by the ride ... locked in on to the contest.  But ... no matter how amazing my super duper co-pilot stuff could possibly be,  no matter how many nights of do-overs this dream gave me "saving" the flight was never going to be my option ... or, my job.  Best case scenario for dreaming-me is to hope the Chief Pilot  doesn't have many reasons to be totally pissed at me.

Today ... a trip to the beach.  One of my flying buddies called yesterday during lunch to offer the trip.  Yep ... I can do an early flight (= midmorning feet in the sand maybe).  Sitting around (with a big smile on my face) waiting right now ... .

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

house ... shelter

I'm thinking about writing ... .  Probably less because I actually have a desire to write a book and more because my husband thinks I should ... try ... to.  I think he has glanced at this blog and decided that I have a "passion" for writing.  The only story I can think of to write is one I don't want to tell.  H says that's probably the one I need to write.  This is exactly why I didn't become a performance major in college ... I don't like the way it feels to expose myself.  I don't like the idea of opening the doors to my soul to ... well, pretty much anyone.  Each of us is like a house with many rooms ... I prefer to keep visitors in the very front of the house ... the entertaining rooms.

There is actually quite a bit of work left to do in the house and in the yards.  I could easily spend entire days doing basic house management stuff and the extra things that really need to be done.  Weeds grow in the cracks of the sidewalk ... .
I also am being asked to paint murals in the children's section at my church ... that would be a huge commitment ... probably half a day for several months ... seriously.  This morning I received a third request on that.  All three have expressed entirely different ideas about what it should look like, how extensive it should be ... I'm thinking we have a surplus of chiefs.  I have told each person that I will be delighted to help, but I don't want to start off drawing on the walls until there is a consensus on what best meets the needs of the church.

I do want to stretch towards writing, but I am afraid.  I am afraid of a lot of different things around it.  Apparently I am more of a fraidy-cat then I imagined myself to be.

I need a couple of days to get over the summer.
I need a little breathing room.
I'm trying to think about some stuff, and that takes time.  Ha ... I haven't even figured out a methodology for thinking about my little thinking thing yet!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

How to kill an entire morning ...

 fabric is already smoothed over the top of the ottoman and secured ... outlining in cord
 now stapling two layers of  quilt batting ... should come next to the edge of the cord, but easy on the staples, and none within two inches of the cord line
 with "right sides" of fabric together snuggle the lower piece in over the cord ... brown straight edge should be stapled closely abutting the cord line ... use lots of staples here ... 
sometimes loose batting is need to "fluff up"dimples in the turns ... 
I push those in to place with a skewer ... 
next, steam iron the fabric and staple it to the underside of the piece 
... finish with another cord "outline" and a dust cover (under).
position furniture and wait ... someone will perch there soon

Monday, August 20, 2012

Back to school

Every one is back to school in high spirits today. People will still be in and out all day, Two during a mid morning break in class, L home for lunch, Four will be done for the school day sometime around lunch ... she needed only a few credits to graduate High School but doesn't want to leave for college until this time next year.  This morning I proof read her synopsis on the summer reading assignment (Catcher in the Rye).  One of her observations was that the direction of a person's life can change in short order.  I wonder if any of us truly realize how exactly true that statement is.

"Big doors swing on little hinges."

~W. Clement Stone



Spent the weekend at PDK in a flight instructor's refresher course.  It was somewhat challenging, also interesting.  I realized that a lot of my "stuff" has deteriorated. I was un-able to plugin to a flight instructing job right away, and now ... I'm simply on a different track then the one I "expected" to find myself on.  Meaning ... I see my role in the larger picture of flight instruction very differently then role I anticipated playing.  I don't want to participate in anything less then the high quality instruction which I benefited from, and now I see that those slots are few and far between, and ... perhaps it is right that they are awarded to people at the beginning of an airline type career path ... hard to swallow.  Maybe my spot is helping tweak poor technique in the community which would help make people safer and more confident in their abilities.  It hasn't been possible for me to maintain the level I was at as an instructor.  I survey what I am able to bring to the table now.  It is a bit ... ummm, sad, I guess is the word.  Fortunately, I have found ways to diversify how I spend my time ... and how to spend my time is something I am still trying to figure out.  I think time spending is an important decision.
At the FIRC session, the guys were talking about the unreliability of weather information in general.  I daydreamed a bit, remembering  how my semester after semester my room full of ground students checked out/ nodded off  on learning about weather ... and the REGs.  I thought it was so bizarre that they were interested in aircraft performance, but not so much about the whens and wheres that affect performance.  Someone else tends to that at the airlines they would tell me ... little slackers ... it takes time to bring them up to speed. And disinterest in the REGs was just ... ummm, young ... well, they will learn ... we're all young for a while. I did love helping them along ... watching them develop in to commercial grade pilots ... they grew up quite a bit right before my eyes.
We, FIRC-buds, were looking at the accident statistics collected around the TAA (Technically Advanced Aircraft ... at least a moving map display, IFR-approved GPS navigator, and an auto pilot ... but generally, full glass.  a glass cockpit includes a primary flight display PFD in place of the traditional six pack, and a multifunction display MFD which can show a moving map, terrain features, weather, checklists, etc.)  More and more primary training is accomplished on these platforms.  It's on the CFIs to help make sure all that cool stuff actually translates to safer flight.  Notes in the book we used for the course say: Continued VFR flight into instrument meteorological conditions, while accounting for two-thirds (67.7 %) of fatal GA fleet weather accidents, only account for a little over one-third (37.5%) of fatal TAA weather accidents. The book says that while the NTSB does not provide clear insights, there are several factors which could contribute to the high number of TAA weather accidents. One is that TAAs have a higher percentage of use in a transportation role, increasing their exposure to adverse weather compared to those (Pre-TAA) whose primary use is for training.  I suspect the ratio of steam/glass is significantly lower then 3:1.  A study offering info concerning the pilot demographic would sure help with processing this info ... I'd like to see the human element ... kinda doubt these are high hour pilots ... maybe this is the new V-tail The book goes on to say that unlike NEXRAD weather radar displays, weather forecasts provided by the data link are typically presented on the MFD in text formats ... lack of an ease-to-interpret graphic presentation of non -radar weather data may negatively impact the pilot's ability to get a clear mental picture of overall weather conditions. The book points out that it is the pilot's responsibility to enable data link weather displays, and once it's available, to know how to interpret and integrate it with other information.  Here's a findings quote ... A number of TAA accident pilots may have believed that access to near real-time weather improved their chances of dealing with adverse weather.  
This is sorta interesting ... Instructional flights accounted for 15.1% of total GA accidents.  Instructional flights accounted for 23.9 percent of total glass cockpit accidents.  Instructors are encouraged to do more of the training on the ground ... wait until the pilot has a solid grasp of the TAA.  No findings were presented to suggest that a better understanding/integration of weather information might be helpful.
I'm thinking about how I personally respond to "weather" ... uhhh, life weather.  I'm not even talking about actual aviation weather now ... just the potential lessons I may infer.  Weather eventually wears me out.  It fatigues me to the point where I may not interpret "things" as they really are.  And ... even if I do "see how it is", I may not know how to best deal with it.  Who is tired me?  How does she respond when backed into a corner?  Sometimes the weather of life boxes you in. ... and ... the time for figuring out "stuff" isn't when you're right in the thick of it.
Let's see ... how does this seem to go?  Information is presented ... then the test.
In general, the guys in the FIRC were grouching about the variability of weather ... and no wonder people are not good at dealing with weather bc the forecasts suck ... iow, not my fault.  I just half listened ... I actually think weather information is amazingly accurate ... it's come such a long ways as a science ... and, when in doubt, assume it's going to suck ... that's my perspective on weather.  If things go better then anticipated then ... great ... but when they don't, understanding the ends and outs has to be info that I've already worked out to the best of my ability.
I'm trying to remember that expression about a swamp full of alligators, but all I can sorta remember is about pissing on the highest flame.  I'm not very good at homilies.
Per the REGs, NTSB 830.2 (partial ... incomplete) Aircraft accident means an occurrence associated with the operation of an aircraft which takes place between the time any person boards the aircraft with the intention of flight and all such persons have disembarked, and in which any person suffers death or serious injury, or in which the aircraft receives substantial damage. For purposes of this part, the definition of “aircraft accident” includes “unmanned aircraft accident,” as defined herein.
Fatal injury means any injury which results in death within 30 days of the accident.Incident means an occurrence other than an accident, associated with the operation of an aircraft, which affects or could affect the safety of operations.Serious injury means any injury which: (1) Requires hospitalization for more than 48 hours, commencing within 7 days from the date of the injury was received; (2) results in a fracture of any bone (except simple fractures of fingers, toes, or nose); (3) causes severe hemorrhages, nerve, muscle, or tendon damage; (4) involves any internal organ; or (5) involves second- or third-degree burns, or any burns affecting more than 5 percent of the body surface. so ... an accident is not simply an uh oh. More?Weather, while not entirely avoidable or predictable, seems to be a big contributor to ... accidents.different topic ... 



thinking about my next upholstered piece ... will be in the room with those two goose neck arm chairs in the black and tan fabric (above).  I think I'm going to use Calico Corners' Slubby Basket "spray" (pictured) on the inside of the chair with "black" on the outside of the chair.  Photo One above shows the trim elements in black.  I think I'm going to take the tufting out of the back of my chair (definitely will if I go with this bulkier fabric texture) and not use contrasting trim. I like the asymmetric stripe or color blocking on chair two above, and I'm thinking of incorporating the idea on a different piece.  The clean lines of chair two appeal to me and I think demonstrate an element that I would like to see in the first chairs design ... trim restraint.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

 belly of the G2 ... 
I'm standing at the nose gear looking aft ... 
I liked all the green ... 
green grass, green paint ... 
Gulfstream 2
the reflection on the leading edge of the wing 
grounded ... airframe is timed out
I guess airplanes can lose their medicals

sunrise @ PDK

earlybird

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Dust

Google search : dust magnified rendered this photo ... they say it's dust x 22 million ... idk, the colorization makes it super interesting to me ... not as naturally cool as sand, but ... interesting.


Dust
dust |d…ôst| nounfine, dry powder consisting of tiny particles of earth or waste matter lying on the ground or on surfaces or carried in the air:an act of dusting:
Dust, like Dust in the Wind ... all we are ... 
Louie Giglio notes Indescribable (excerpt ... the whole thing rocks)  

  1. Panoramic composite of 60 images named "The Pale Blue Dot" from 1990, 13 years after the launch of Voyager now about 4 billion miles away
  2. 640,000 pixels per image, each pixel took 5.5 hours to transmit, each image took months to make it back to Earth
  3. The colored bands are reflections of the sun off Voyager. In one band a tiny speck is seen, that speck is the Earth.
  4. On October 13, 1994, the famous astronomer Dr. Carl Sagan stated: " "We succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and, if you look at it, you see a dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.
    The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."
    Carl Sagan - The Pale Blue Dot
    ... a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam
    I like thinking about it.
    for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. ~Psalm 103:14
    to the One who remembered us in our low estate His love endures forever ~Psalm 136:23

  • Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
    A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
    Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
    And now a burst, and now a world.

    ~Alexander Pope
    An Essay on Man, epistle1, l.87^90.

    photo from Iridient by Fabian Oefner
I think I am starting to figure something out ... well, I'm working on it.

L has been talking about this writer, Jodi Picoult, who he first heard about on NPR. She writes commercial fiction.  My husband explained her process to me as, she takes a topic which she is interested in and has her characters work out the various points of view.  We bought a copy of Lone Wolf, and I read it Monday.  He thinks her way of looking at this, in this case, the way of wolves, and working with it as a metaphor for that (what would the pack do? in this case - my over simplification), is similar to my operating style.

Flying has come to provide a metaphoric language which works like a native tongue for me.  When I can't quite understand (or believe) something I re-imagine it within an aviation vignette.  I spent the day yesterday thinking about an airplane in distress.  I have been in distress of late ... .  It was interesting to find that what I may have perceived to be the main problem was not actually the presenting, or most pressing problem.  In my little scenario my role was to handle communications and monitor the health of the flight.  In my little scenario the airplane was being tossed about by significant weather ... the radar was out and communications were pretty well fried ... the plane was also low on fuel.  This pretty well reflects how I actually feel lately ... feeling is okay ... right?  In my family one of my primarily jobs has been to translate intentions from the tangled-up words which fly around between individuals and are frequently misunderstood.  Everybody needs to feel that they are at least understood.

Here's a sorta goofy example ... We were at the lake and a wonderful dog lives a couple of doors down ... Holly is a ball retrieving machine.  She worked her way through the small crowd, very sweetly requesting the ball toss assist.  Pretty much everyone complied.  On the drive home we were talking about what a great dog she is ... a treasure really.  I said it kind of amazed me that she could so graciously adapt to so many different styles of ball tossing and my husband said ... what do you mean?  What I mean is there were a lot of different styles of toss going on ... some went for the long toss, others intentionally threw the ball into the bushes or into the water,  some people bounced the ball several times before tossing it, a few people needed to try to fake her out before they finally let go of the ball.  The dog demonstrated that she could catch a fly ball lost for a while in the sun, a skidding grounder ... a slow roller ... a fast ball right to the chops ... and she knew when it was time to move on to a fresh arm.  The fact that she had impressive skills was a story told early in the day by the balls I threw for her.  I was interested to observe the story the other throwers might tell of themselves.  Everyone had their way of throwing the ball and also of accepting the retrieved ball back before another throw.  That's not the entire tale, but there weren't any real surprises.  I'm not saying I understand any of the motivation behind the ball toss event ... just saying that it's a bigger story then the one of a ball in a dog's mouth.   Some people found joy in the activity ... other's covertly kicked at the dog when they were done.  Wow ... that is a lot of words for a tiny little ... I'm just trying to say the story is usually bigger then dog + ball, because while it is a dog story it's also a story of a person interacting with a dog via a ball.  Exhausting ... lol.

So ... I have seen translating, on request, as one of my main jobs in my family.  And ... I'm really tired of it.  I totally get why some messages didn't make it back from the battle front to the King's court.
We speak bunches of different languages here.  I'm going to put the 5 Love Languages book in the main bathroom.  Those who give a furry little rat's behind may thumb through it.

On the flight scenario I have communicated clearly and concisely to the captain that ... I see and believe we are low on fuel ... and that right here in this clear spot ... I suggest we focus on finding and redirecting our meager resources towards an alternate.  He says he's got this and I sincerely hope he does ... 'cause,  the hair on the back of my neck is telling me that it's more then just a story about a guy with his left hand on a stick.

Now that I am relieved of my duties as official translator, my husband is encouraging me to think about what I would really really really like to do with the luxury of this time.  He thinks rather then get a job, even just a little substitute teaching job, outside our home, that I should ... write a book.  A book of commercial fiction.  I don't know if I can do that ... if I can write a story that wants to be read.  I'm thinking about it.  I do have the luxury of doing pretty much anything I want to do for several hours each day.  That is a spectacular gift.  It would be a real shame to open it up and then just play with the box ... .


Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The wise woman builds her house, 
    but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down. ~Proverbs 14:1

For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust. Ps 103:14

Monday, August 13, 2012

This morning I am looking at a couple of unfinished projects ... the ottoman (it's going to be so happy looking) and a section of CAP knowledge stuff (tedious bc I have to do it on a laptop different from the one my fingers are used to ... windows stuff). I'm having trouble getting started today!  This is the last week of summer vacation for Four and Five ... I would like to treat them to something special ...
 .
This morning I'm thinking about a guy at the little lake party asking an airline pilot what it looks like up there ... he had some specific questions.  The answer he got was ... I don't know.  Maybe the guy had been kinda pestering him all day about flying stuff ... some of those old captains just want a day off on their day off.  When I have a seat very high, back in the back, sightseeing, what I see is geography ... and I notice that stuff looks a lot like other stuff ... for example, waves in the gulf aren't sorta parrallel lines as they seem from the shore, rather they are crisscrossing lines and look exactly like the wrinkles across the top of my hand ... near the thumb they are roughly parallel and fanning from the web between the thumb and the index finger, the bulk of the skin is diamond patterned though and it stretches to smooth with the slightest flex ... the fishnet shape of it allows for directional flexibility ... if I could really see it, the same bit would look totally different under different magnifications.  I take it very much for granted, but it is truly spectacular.  That's what it looks like up there.
 I looked at pics from a few trips this morning.
One really can't describe what it looks like ... you're moving pretty fast and ... it moves too.These pictures were all taken from altitudes around 11,000 give or take a few thousand ...  one or two of them may be as low as 7000MSL ... and on the ground for that landing shot.


These shots are a click apart ... the next click would be all white.  Sometimes it's white like the inside of an egg with no spacial information ... sometimes it's white like a gaseous cloud white with tints of grey ... clouds end suddenly.  It's super cool to blast from the white in to a cloud cavern streaming light.
These two are also a click apart

We were heading generally West, into the sun.  I was thinking about how like a temple it sometimes looks up there ... I like how the red spectrum licks at the enveloping dark.  In picture two proximity to that rise in the cloud layer makes it appear to open up like a crocs mouth.
How do you describe how it looks up there?  It looks great mostly.  Sometimes it looks scary as all get out ... I don't fly towards that.

hot relatively dry air
 cold relatively wet air
boot check check
between layers
I like the icy blue lines  between layers
this is smooth cool air
different day
between layers
these clouds are somewhat energized, but not much
was all in ... breaking through the bottom of this layer for landing
I never get tired of seeing this ...
out of a cloud with back light


cloud valley
the sun, like a solitaire on the finger of an angel 
night roll

how does it look up there ... it looks good.