Next!

With great excitement I announce the beginning of the next round.

The ensemble is assembling!!!

We are in the process of pulling together a strong group.  A force to be reckoned with.  I’ll keep you posted.  Here is a link to the demo the band will be starting from.

Demo

Please share what you think!

 

MLB

Week in Reveiw 4-13-12


On Saturday we took time as a family to boil, blow and color eggs. The blown ones turned into exquisite scrambles to fuel fence stretching all afternoon by Brotha J and myself.

Sunday and we were off to hide and find the aforementioned eggs. We returned home shaking from bottomless cups of coffee and I leaped towards the roof to return the favor to Brotha J.  Thankfully, I couldn’t find my harness and he spent the afternoon on the 12/12 pitch.  I had already done that!  He was able to install all the last pieces of metal, trim and ridgecap. What a great project to have closer to completion! (Picture from December, I told you I’d get a photo up!)

Monday had us ready for sheep shearing at 9:15 am and the man was paid and the ruminants chilly by 10:15 am. Now to our goal for the day: the wood shuffle! Move the firewood from this location (that you moved it to when it was wet and cold out) to a new one! And in the clearing made in the front green house: a brooding area for the chicks coming on Tuesday.

Tuesday had my project list casually scrapped. Instead of what ever it was I was planning I helped in the garden, pruned the undersides of some ancient juniper trees next to the garden to encourage child hang out in the shade, and finished the chick brooder. L and the kids went to D-town and picked up chicks in the afternoon. It was a successful run.

Wednesday and I was off with a full truck to J’s for the insane tandem planer, and slicing and dicing of boards. This blurred right through until Thursday afternoon when: Ta Da!! Four Warre Hives with only a punch-list left to get them done. We washed it all down with a wonderful “home made” to-go pizza dinner with friends in our home.

Back again… Friday! But not just any Friday, my sweet wife and I had our first date and marriage on Friday the 13ths. So it’s an anniversary, and…… Dada and Kid Day!! To the river for mud fun in the partial sun, with friends! It looks like it is going to sock in for a couple days with a taste of that ol’ winter weather.  We are so thankful for any moisture that we can get!

Bein’ Home

What it means to be home for me is relaxation at it’s most energetic.

We started building our house six years ago this month. We have done the majority of the work ourselves, with breaks to “work for
money” and play with the kids.  Many people have built there own houses.

Newly weds pounding tires

ceiling and framing

Many people have done this both slower and faster than I am, using many different methods.  The way that we chose to do this project involves a good deal of labor.

Our foundation is made of tires filled with dirt and pounded with sledge hammers to compact it into a brick.

The super structure is traditional mortise and tenon framing (with a handful of timber lock and star drive screws thrown in for good measure).

The exterior walls are twelve inch thick poured adobe in Larson Truss and the interior walls are light clay straw on Larson Truss and wattle and daub. The interior of the apartment we are in now is finished with natural plaster. In the kitchen we have painted it to enable ease of cleaning, the rest is still raw.

natural plaster on cob

We are building our house as a multi-family home. My wife, children and I currently live in a four hundred twenty-five square foot apartment constituting one third of the second floor. This apartment will become my mothers as we move into a new (yet to be built) co-housing living space on the first floor.

Then, of course, there are the sheep, the small orchard, green house, chickens…… the list goes on.

I am looking forward to sharing my thoughts, dreams, progress, stumbling blocks and frustrations.

Through Vegas and Home Again

I got home the other day…. kind of.

Blasted out of Long Beach at an early two pm and headed east. It took until the last couple days of the trip to realize that I could set the tripod up on the front passenger seat and get footage of the highway and scenery. Some neat footage was captured but I missed L.A. with its interwoven multiple clover leafs and double and triple layer highway systems. We’ll see how it all turns out in the final edit.

I pulled into Las Vegas and parked a block from the all naked cabaret club called Pussycat’s and checked on the open mic that was to happen at The Bikini Bar. “Yes,” the bikini clad bartender told me, “there is an open mic tonight. You gonna hang out or come back?” I decided to come back.

In the city of sin, sinning is still encouraged. For the ten people in the bar I am pretty sure there were twelve cigarettes burning. Smoking is still permitted indoors and it felt as if everyone there was aware that a large percentage of the country doesn’t allow that anymore. “Smokin'” Joe set up the mics and cables, stools and ashtray table on the stage and played a couple tunes. Then it was my turn. I figured since this was the last one I would go all out and sang four songs! I hit them with my new intro, “I’m a farmer from western Colorado and I’ve got some a cappella farmer music for you” then “we’ve WON!”, I followed that with “Ask Them to Leave” and went straight into “Grey Haze” just as the smoke machine punched out a huge billow over the flashing lights behind me. I left them with “Stand”, sat back down and listened to Wayne sing a couple Neil Young songs before I headed out the door and continued north and east.

Looking at the map I missed the fact that I would cut the corner off Arizona on my way to Utah. It’s amazing how much extra work thirty miles is when you were expecting to stop. I safely pulled into a rest area so full of trucks that I had to reverse back through the parking lot to take one of the only accessible car parking slips before snuggling into the cramped sleeping quarters of the back of the car.

The next morning I made some homemade instant refried beans and rice to go in a tortilla with cheese and California (also bought in California) greens. It was not long after the intersection with I-70 that I picked up K hitchhiking with his dog Karma and we drove together all the way home. They stayed the night in the cold room, then, first thing my first morning home we all packed into the car and headed to Montrose to rally in front of the BLM office to ask them not to lease away clean air and water to the natural gas companies. K continued hitching south and we were off to soak in the natural hot springs of Ouray for the night… now here I am, finally home. Tomorrow, back to work at the restaurant.

L.A.

L.A. What a town. Massive, sprawling, littered with highways and roads. Sister S and I took a walk on the Long Beach sand. I could feel the chaos of the battle through traffic sinking into the moist grains under my bare feet. I had decided earlier that taking the day off would be a good idea. So we relaxed and ate and drank and walked and laughed.

Sunday afternoon in Bixby Park, Long Beach was a fun time. The air was soft, the lawn offering a diversity in flora to give the sensation that it might not be sprayed with herbicides. I shared the grassy knoll of a stage with a duet of singing guitar players who were prepared to play for an hour or more so I went first. I offered the songs “Purge”, “Grey Haze” and “we’ve WON!” while S ran the camera. After a quick snack back at the apartment we headed north to West Hollywood to Canter’s Kibbitz room. The place where most of the songs from Appetite for Destruction, the first album released by Guns ‘n Roses, were performed. It was a two song venue (unless you were local, then all your friends would encourage you to play more and you could) so I shared “Purge” and “we’ve WON!” and felt good about it. People listened and one man told me he liked my music. Another couple stood to leave during my performance, but the lady stopped the man in the doorway and listened to me finishing the last song. I took that as a compliment.

On Monday we braved the highways and headed north again to Santa Monica to knock on the door of Serjical Strike Studios. Not surprisingly, there wasn’t a door. I called the phone numbers that the internet had given me for the manager George Tonikian, one was disconnected and the other wasn’t accepting calls at that time. We enjoyed a nice walk on the beach, a meal in a Caribbean style restaurant and did a little thrift shopping. Seeing how hard it is to get around and since there weren’t any open mics in Long Beach on Monday, I took the night off again.

Now it is time to hug my sweet sister and head out to Las Vegas. I think I may sing at the Bikini Bar tonight and be home mid afternoon tomorrow.