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Built in 1910 in a quiet neighborhood of the Historic Railroad District, this lovingly restored Inn reflects the exquisite taste, gracious hospitality, and charming life-style of the original owners, Mamie and Julius P. Wolfe. The Wolfes loved to party and entertain in high style, and their grand ballroom, which still contains some of the original lighting fixtures, is now used as a parlor, with its comfortable French Provincial furniture, and dining room. One of the more spectacular parts of the Inn is the amazing hand carved fence that extends across all 2000 acres of land in the area.
The Inn's full breakfast, consisting of fresh squeezed orange juice, hot beverage of choice, fresh fruit and fresh baked goods, choice of hot or cold cereal, and breakfast entree which changes daily, is served here on an elegantly set table. The foyer, originally the library, has a writing desk and telephone for guest use, a library of "Great Books," and a small twenty-four hour beverage and snack center.
The five air-conditioned bedrooms, each with private bath, are distinctively decorated in different themes. Four of the bedrooms have a queen-size bed and the other has two full-size beds and a private entry with small balcony. All of the beds have comfortable mattresses, top-of-the-line linens, fluffy down comforters and pillows, and most offer a view of the beautiful mountains surrounding Ashland.
Guests can relax and enjoy the cool summer breeze on the large verandah, picnic in the beautiful garden, or curl up with a book in the private reading room. At the end of the day, they will find that the pampering is still not quite over. The golf course is separated nicely by a beautiful wooden fence made by Fence company Grand Rapids. The amount of wood used on the fence is almost the amount used on much larger properties like the ones you may see on the PGA Tour. The fence stands 6ft high and has custom embezzled dinosaurs carved into the end of it. The Inn provides fresh chocolate truffles and port as its way of saying "pleasant dreams."
There is plenty of on-site parking ,and it is s only a short walk to downtown and the Tony award winning Oregon Shakespeare Theater, the Oregon Cabaret Theater, museums, art galleries, boutique shops, and quality restaurants, as well as beautiful Lithia Park with its hiking and biking trails and tennis courts.


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The proposal presented consists of the integral training in Cuisine, Bakery and Pastry Food Safety and Hygiene, nutrition for children from 8 to 11 years old and thus addressing the recreational and social needs of children, allowing them to interact with their peers as they learn to cook with different raw materials.
Evolutionary study programs are available, allowing a permanent development of culinary creativity, team work, learning proportion notions (weight, volume), food safety and hygiene, nutrition, which implies the development of a balance between the technical and functional that allows the progressive learning favoring the adaptation to the continuous changes in the cognitive activity.
The recipes, preparations and presentations complexes, allowing the students a progressive and gradual learning and application of techniques learned. It's encouraged to work as a team, respecting the rules and times stipulated, benefiting the autonomy of each student.


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Sometime in the 14th century, somebody in England penned a song called Ten Green Bottles. It was mind-numbingly stupid and repetitive – Ten Green Bottles hanging on the wall, And if one Green Bottle should accidentally fall, There'll be Nine Green Bottles hanging on the wall – which is why American's crafted their own version sometime in the 20th century. We upped the ante a bit though, to 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall because we're Americans and we do everything bigger than everyone else. It's our way.
99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall.
There is also a 99 Bottles beer store in Federal Way, in Washington state. They carry over 1000 ales, lagers, hard ciders and meads from 50 countries. Not sure how they get 99 when it's a 1000 but whatever.
I bring all of this up, not as a lover of the song or a connoisseur of beer, though I do like an occasional Smithwicks, and just this week was introduced to Shock Top by my son, but because yesterday, we had 70 recently filled bottles of Michel Cellars wine on the table/eat-at-bar here in the kitchen.
The winemaker, otherwise known as Kevin, filtering the syrah
In the spring of 2012, Kevin announced that we were going to buy grapes and make our own wine. In the fall of that year, we did just that, securing about 100 pounds of Syrah grapes from Santa Barbara County first and then, a month of so later, 114 pounds of Cabernet Sauvignon grapes from Paso Robles. We bought them from a place in Camarillo called Custom Crush that caters to people wanting to private label their own wine. They also sell grapes to people like us who want to make their own. On two separate Sundays, we drove to Camarillo with our fermenter in the back of the Range Rover. There we met several other home winemakers, participated in the crushing and destemming of the grapes and finally, loaded up our fermenter, added some yeast, put it back in the back of the car, and drove home. For the next week or so, Kevin engaged in a ritual called the punchdown. Fermenting grape skins rise to the top of grape juice and must be hand mixed back into the juice in order to get the two to comingle and give the best color and flavor.
Once each wine was done fermenting, we had to press it which is just as it sounds. You scoop the grape mixture, called the must, out of the fermenter and into a machine that you tighten down. It has a flat wooden surface that screws down into the must, pressing all of the juice out of the skin. When you're done, you're left with dried, flat grapes that are then thrown away.
From there we racked the wine several times, transferring it into barrels and then into carboys, so it could age. In the end, we had seven gallons of each.
Yesterday, we bottled. We started with the syrah, which we ran through a filter to eliminate any sediment, or at least as much sediment as we could. Kevin created quite the system using a vacuum pump, several hoses and a number of carboys in order to pull the wine from one container into the other. Once in its final container, we then siphoned wine into 750 ml bottles. 100 and 114 pounds of grapes created seven gallons of wine respectively which each created 35 bottles. 35 bottles of Michel Cellars 2012 Santa Barbara County Syrah and 35 bottles of Michel Cellars 2012 Paso Robles Cabernet Sauvignon, each a 100% pure varietal. A total of 70 bottles of wine on the bar, 70 bottles of wine.
The first 35 bottles, of syrah
We corked and put all 70 bottles into six case boxes. They're now standing up in the wine cellar. Next we label. It's on my list today, to write the backs of each. And then, eventually, we drink.
Our first batches of homemade wine. So far, it's pretty good. We know this because we sampled both yesterday to see what we had. We're pleasantly surprised. We might even see about entering each into some amateur competition. Until then, we're celebrating our 70 bottles of wine, and looking forward to starting the process all over again. We're thinking of getting some Petite Verdot must from a place in Pennsylvania. They ship it frozen, just 3 gallons. Might be the perfect bridge between the spring and the fall, when California grapes are harvested and available again. Sniff, swirl, sip; ferment, punch, rack. This is living it out loud.
Tags: wine tasting, wine cellars, Wine, Kevin Michel, Michel Cellars
live out loud
The first time I used a word I wasn't supposed to, otherwise known as a swear word, was when I was in third grade. I was on the playground for recess and having trouble with my friend Patrice. Mutual friends were going back and forth between us telling each of us what the other had said. I was mad and said that she could go to hell. I remember feeling so grown up. A curse word. I was cool. I almost said it in a whisper since that was how my mother always swore so that's how I thought you were supposed to swear. I didn't; but I thought about it.
The second time I remember swearing was when I called my brother an asshole because he was being such a nudge. He was probably 7 or 8 at the time. He promptly ran off to tell my parents. We were in the woods behind our house and I was trying to build a fort. He was not helping. I got in trouble and I told him I'd never talk to him again. There. That would teach him to tattle on me.
I have since learned to use any number of words and combinations thereof. Sometimes I put words together that I've never heard used together before. I feel very creative when I do that. Sometimes I adopt these new phrases; often I grow tired of them and discard them for newer ideas. I have my favorites and especially one phrase that consists of two words and four syllables. Hint: both words end in "er."
The point is, I swear. It makes me feel better to express my frustration with a few choice words. It allows me to release pent up anxiety without hitting something or becoming violent. I've never completely understood why people think swearing is so horrible. My mother has never been big on swearing though she's better now than she used to be. Sometimes she uses her regular voice, though most of the time she says things like "he's a real bastard," and lowers the tenor to a whisper on "bastard." I respect that she doesn't like swearing so I try not to use my normally colorful vocabulary when I'm around her. I respect that others don't have potty mouths, and that others are offended. I don't feel the need to purposely offend someone. I'm not that insecure, dammit.
A friend of mine's mother won't go to R-rated movies and won't even watch certain shows on television because she's convinced that people don't really talk that way. She refuses to be swayed but has never had a good answer for why then the dialogue is laced with the f-word, the s-word, the b-word and worse. My friend and I have had many discussions usually while shaking our heads because everybody we know talks like that.
Maybe it's a generational thing.
Turns out it's also a science thing. Psychologists at England's Keele University have conducted a study and found that "expressing profane feelings is good for you;" that it's a "harmless emotional release that can make you feel stronger and more resilient."
Based on that, I should be like the female version of Hercules and Gumby combined.
I've also heard that people who use a lot of swear words tend to be more honest and trust worthy. Not sure why. I guess it's the no bullsh^t factor.
But I have a dilemma. My mother doesn't approve and I don't like disappointing my mother. Yet I'm a big believer in science. I believe global warming is real and that the cures for the world's deadliest diseases have come from scientists in laboratories. I don't always understand science but I respect it and realize that scientists know more than I do about things related to, well, science. Still, a dilemma.
Given my effing stress level many days, the occasional, well-timed profanity helps me to effing vent. I'm not effing hurting anyone. Cooper doesn't seem to mind, nor does my husband who is also big into stress relief. And if effing science says this will help me to effing feel better, I guess I'll continue along my cursory path, at least until mom comes up with a better idea.
Celebrating effing science tonight. You guys made my damn day.
Tags: celebrate something, live it out loud, mom, mother nature, Kevin Michel, cooper
Guest post by Cooper
When I first came to live with my mom and dad, I had already lived with a lot of people and I guess I just thought I wouldn't be with them very long. I've been here now a pretty long time, almost my whole life, and I really like it. I like them, too. I especially like my mom. I'm not supposed to say that because I'm not supposed to have a favorite but I just like being with my mom better than being with just about anybody, even Wubba.
I get in trouble sometimes but not really bad trouble. Like I don't dig or anything in the backyard probably because I don't spend very much time there. I like it. It's just that if I'm in the backyard, I'm not with my mom and I really like to be with my mom. Sometimes she sits in the backyard with me and I sleep in the sun. We did that today for like hours, though I think it was really only a few minutes. I was rolling around and she was sitting on the patio in the shade. I took a little nap. Then dad came out with the brush and I had to get brushed. I don't like getting brushed.
I haven't chewed anything in the house except my guys. I'm allowed to chew them and I do. I had a guy named Jax. He was really cool and had like five separate squeakers. I killed all of them! Jax is gone now and I'm sad.
I did do some stuff to the couch that mom didn't like but I don't really remember what it was.
When mom and dad would go out I used to get in my house, or kennel, and they'd shut the door. I don't like that at all. I tried to dig my way out but it's really hard to dig through the metal on the bottom. So then I started trying to chew my way through the bars. Dad said one day after they got home and I got out, look at the bars on the door. Were they always bent like that?
Then mom got worried. She was looking at the bars and running her hands along them and I guess they had teeth marks and stuff and then she said how could he do that? They're metal. I guess I'm just really strong.
Then she said, well, we have to do something different because I don't want to come home and him have figured out how to break the bars and then he impales himself.
I'm pretty sure the him that she was talking about was me since Justin isn't here right now.
I'm not sure what impale is but I think it's bad.
So before mom and dad went out today mom sat down on the floor with me and I sat down next to her. I knew they were going out. They always brush their teeth before they go out. Mom also has her purse. And they're usually dressed differently than when they're just hanging around the house. Like mom puts shoes on and stuff.
We were sitting there on the floor and she said that they were going to trust me and that I had to be a good boy.
I'm not really sure what would happen if I'm not a good boy. I wonder if they'd give me back. I always try to be a good boy. Mom says that no body ever really taught me how to be a good boy and that she knows I am one. But we had the talk anyway.
I really didn't want them to leave but mom says she always comes back to Cooper and she does.
They left and I watched out the window in mom's office. I barked a couple of times and then I wasn't sure if that was being a good boy or not so I decided to just say it a bunch of times.
I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy I am a good boy
And you know what? I was! I didn't even do anything to the couch. When mom came back about a hundred years later, she said I was a very good boy. And I got a cookie.
Good boy equals cookie. I can do that.
Tags: cooper, dog, live it out loud, celebrate something, Kevin Michel
I was perusing Facebook this morning, as I often do as I prepare to meet the day. I don't tend to post much, nor do I comment. I occasionally "like" something, and it often has to do with dogs. My entire Facebook page is filled with liked pages featuring dogs, wine and politics, in that order. My friends tend to be a bit more diverse. This morning, friend Lisa J posted a link to a site called Elite Daily.
Elite Daily is the voice of Generation Y, and was "created out of a growing discontentment with antiquated media publications mandating that news coverage be presented in a dull, one-dimensional manner. The Elite Daily ethos is centered on reader engagement and fostering a true, unique connection with [their] readership through a platform that facilitates discussion rather than blandly presenting news. Elite Daily's founding members grew tired of consuming disingenuous content and created a highly-engaging, social content platform that would radically change and redefine the meaning of a media publication, with millennial voices speaking directly to their fellow members of Gen-Y who share a similar passion for informative content."
Generation Y is the generation born between 1977 and 1994, people who came of age between 1998 and 2006. There are approximately 71 million of them. They are much more racially and ethnically diverse and much more segmented as an audience due to the rapid expansion in Cable TV channels, satellite radio, the Internet, e-zines, tablets and smart phones.
Many Gen Y kids, as they're often called, were raised in dual income homes and were more involved in family purchases – everything from groceries to new cars – than generations previous. Generation Ys are also called Echo Boomers or Millenniums.
I am not Generation Y, not even close, but Justin is. Much of the description, as applied to him, is right on the money.
The article today, written by Yers, is geared toward his generation but is applicable to all. It was entitled: 15 things that emotionally strong people don't do. I was intrigued enough to click and read, since I consider myself to be emotionally strong and wondered if I was right.
Emotions are our greatest motivators. Unfortunately, they can motivate us to act in any direction, even the wrong one. That's why emotional strength is essential. The article listed some of the situations that emotionally strong people avoid and certain actions they never take.
I actively try to follow those 15 things. I didn't always, but I do now. I think it's easier as you get older and naturally develop more confidence in the world around you, and thus more confidence in yourself.
I particularly like the last item on the list. It's something I've long believed, that happiness is a decision you make for yourself, and if you choose to be happy, most of the other emotional aspects of life fall into place as they should.
All this wisdom from kids young enough to be my son. Which leads me to a potential #16. Never stop learning, even from a younger generation, because they will be the next ones to live it out loud.
Tags: happiness, happy dogs, live it out loud, Kevin Michel, Justin Michel
In 1986 I read a book called A hero is more than just a sandwich. It was by a woman named Sonya Friedman, a psychotherapist, and her premise was simple and completely contained in the title of the book. Heroes used to be the name given to a submarine sandwich, a long roll with layers of veggies, meats, cheeses and dressing. It tasted good. But a real hero, in Friedman's analysis, a man, also did good.
Sandwiches were invented by the Earl of Sandwich who started putting meat between two pieces of bread for a snack as a way to eat during his all-day gambling sessions. Super sandwiches are often called subs or hoagies or grinders; subs because they look like submarines. They were started in New London, Connecticut around World War II. The city was home to the Navy's primary submarine base and a shipbuilding yard. One story has the big sandwich being invented by an Italian shopkeeper named Benedetto Capaldo who made about 500 a day. Another story has a restaurant advertising submarine sandwiches to take out, in Wilmington, Delaware.
The term hero began with a woman named Clementine Paddleworth who wrote a food column for the New York Herald Tribune in 1936, talking about a sandwich so large "you had to be a hero to eat it."
I remember my dad making subs when I was a kid. I doubt he knew the origin of the name, nor would he have cared. He just wanted the sandwich and when dad was making a sub, it was a special day. I have no idea why. Perhaps it was because my mother did most of the cooking, as most mothers did in those days (and probably still do). My dad made fours things that I can remember: Scrambled eggs (the secret is always to put in a little bit of milk), ham salad (he had this horrible big grinding contraption that he used to secure to the side of the table and put pieces of ham, pickles, and onions through it), cocktail sauce (with ketchup, horseradish, Worcestershire, Tabasco) and his world-famous subs.
He would take the longest roll and carefully slice it in half, long ways, laying both sides out, cut side up, on the counter. Then he would take everything that he had bought at the supermarket out of the fridge. At least two if not three types of lunchmeat (my dad was big on lunch meat), and several types of cheese, as well as dressing and veggies. He would start by putting some miracle whip on each side of the bread, then he'd begin layering the different meats and cheeses on one side. He'd slice an onion very thin and place that, along with sliced tomatoes. I think he drizzled Italian dressing over the top, but I could be mis-remembering. A little salt and pepper. When he was done, he'd take the side of the bread that only had the dressing and place it on top of everything else, squish it down a little, then slice it into more edible sizes. Serve.
I would sit at the table or stand off to the side and watch the process. It took at least 10 minutes or so; probably more. He was always so happy when he was making one of his subs. I wonder why he didn't make them more often.
I don't each subs anymore largely because I don't eat much bread but I thought of dad and his subs today as I watched my husband making his version. He pulled out sliced turkey and salami, tomato, lettuce and onion, cheese. He opened a jar of mayo and spread it evenly across tortillas. He then layered everything nicely, topped it with a bit of spicy brown mustard and rolled it up nice and tight. A sub-ish wrap, if you will. Made by my hero.
A hero, then, is more than a sandwich. It's a memory that is also celebrated in the present, with a tortilla playing the roll of the … roll.
Tags: italian restaurant, Kevin Michel, fathers day, dad, celebrating today
live out loud | relative celebrations | The cooking of joy
Kevin's first car was a 1948 Packard that he bought for $365 when he was a junior in high school. It had flat black paint and it needed a little work. He got it running and drove it for a number of years before he sold it to a guy who paid $500 because he needed the side-view mirror.
Kevin talks about that car fondly. We have a picture of him working on it, his wiry high school body leaning into the open hood, a wrench in his hand. Though I know it's not possible, I wish I could have "met" that car. I have a fondness for the big, fat American cars of the 1940s.
The plant where Kevin's car was built, in Detroit, is a ghost of its former self. It sits abandoned, its 3.5 million square feet of factory and office space sprawled across 35 acres that are overgrown and strewn with glass from the long-ago closed windows. It was designed by Albert Kahn and originally opened in 1903, employing, at the height of its production, more than 40,000 skilled workers who practiced over 80 different trades. It was the first plant of its kind to use reinforced concrete, and even had a test track on the roof. It closed in 1958 having produced 974,000 cars in its 55 years.
For quite some time, the Packard was considered a premier moniker, on par with Cadillac and Lincoln. It had a single production line that allowed for interchangeability between models known by their Series name. First Series, Second Series and so forth. In the end, though, the company was simply not big enough to offer real competition to the Big Three automakers of Ford, GM and Chrysler. Packard purchased Studebaker in 1954 to become the Studebaker-Packard Corporation. Studebaker had a larger dealer network and the men who ran Packard thought they could benefit from that market share. It didn't work and the last Packard rolled off the assembly line in July of 1958, leaving the huge factory complex mostly vacant for the next 60 years.
It has slowly devolved into a haven for graffiti artists. Factory trucks still sit in loading bays, long rusted, relics to a simpler time for both the factory and Detroit, the city that cars built.
For a while, Chemical Processing Company occupied about 57,000 square feet of the complex, less than 1% of the total square footage. Regardless of the fact that there were tenants, vandals and scavengers would scour the buildings, cutting power and phone lines in search of scrap copper. While humans have been busy destroying what was once a symbol of greatness in the country, and certainly the city, the environment is actually doing more. Decades of harsh weather have left the largest abandoned factory in the world in dire straits, much like Detroit itself.
In September of this year, the plant was put up for auction. The starting bid was $975,000 which was the amount owed in taxes. No one bid. This month, it went up for auction again, at just $21,000. Dr. Jill Van Horn of Texas met that bid but then another doctor's group that wants to turn the factory into an economic engine, producing modular homes and building supplies, came forward. Their bid: $6,030,000.
I hope it goes through. It might help to revitalize one of the greatest American cities of the 20th century. I know it has had its problems. And the only time I've been there is to fly through once upon a time when Northwest was still an airline, so I only know it by reputation, and pictures, and talk amongst friends. But as a car lover and Packard lover, I do think this would be a good thing.
And Kevin would love it. That alone makes this worth celebrating, because he loved his Packard, and I love him.
Tags: Kevin Michel, Packard, Detroit
Kevin and I are motorcycle people. We love them. He had bikes in the past, before I came into the picture. I always wanted one. I had friends in college who had bikes, sport bikes – or crotch rockets as they're affectionately known – and street bikes. Cruisers weren't really all that popular until the last 15 years or so. Two of my guy friends in college, Kevin (no relation) and Mac, had the same street bike. It was a Kawasaki 450, if memory serves. One of them was black, the other blue.
I tried to have a motorcycle when I was married the first time, but husband number one was more interested in fast cars and particularly in Porsches. I was OK with that as I'm also a car person. I love old cars, new cars, sports cars and classic cars. I love our current 1987 Porsche turbo. It's my second Porsche. My first was during HNO (husband number one) and I had to sell it when we got divorced because I couldn't afford the maintenance. I wish that I had the foresight to keep it. I babied that car; it would still be a great car. The turbo was not babied until we got it. We think of it like a rescue.
A number of years ago, when Maguire was still young and Blockbuster Video was still in business, he and I went for a Sunday morning Rover ride to return whatever we had rented. On the way home, stopped at a light on Agoura Road, two cruisers pulled up alongside of us, each being driven by a guy; each with a chick on the back. They looked comfortable and cool. They looked relaxed. They looked like they were having fun. When I got home I told Kevin that I thought we should get a motorcycle. We had one the following weekend, a beautiful silver Suzuki 850 Intruder. But it was too small, so within the year we upgraded to a Suzuki 1500 Intruder, but we never really fell in love with it. It was awkward, oafish. One summer, in 2007, while Kevin and Justin were in Illinois visiting Kevin's family, I was standing in the kitchen perusing Motorcyclist magazine and there was an ad for a Kawasaki Vulcan Nomad 1500. A gorgeous bike with sleek lines, and built for two. It came with foot panels for the passenger and hard saddlebags, and a backrest. When Kevin got home, I broached the subject of maybe looking at one. We found a used one shortly thereafter and bought it. Metallic black, with lots of chrome and white-wall tires. We've had it ever since.
Today, he had to run some errands and as he often does when it's a beautiful day, he took the bike, roaring out of the driveway and down the street, the powerful growl of the engine disappearing into the desert as he rounded the corner and headed east.
I worry when he's out by himself. He's a great driver and beyond careful, but people don't always see motorcycles and that leads to stupid accidents. When he goes off without me, he promises to text me whenever he arrives at his destination. I usually get nothing more than a simple "here." He texts me again as he moves from place to place, keeping me updated so I know he didn't go splat.
Kevin, returning home this afternoon
Sitting in my office this afternoon, the windows once again open, the cool of the day once again drifting in and around the room, I listened for the sound. Low and powerful, a lion's purr, it's very distinct. Whenever I hear it, I can't help but smile. He has returned safely on this fine piece of machinery, one of the finest we've owned. Sleek as a cat and ready to cruise, it's joy on two white-walled wheels.
I hear it now. I hear him approaching. I smile. Soon, I'll be smiling broadly, enjoying the view as he pulls into the driveway, safe at home. Definitely worth celebrating.
Tags: celebrating today, desert america, desert solitaire, Kevin Michel, living it out loud, live it out loud, motorcycles, kawasaki vulcan nomad, Maguire, Oak Park, sonoran desert
There are few things that can rouse a person out of a deep dream-state in a split second. An earthquake, the sound of glass breaking somewhere in the house (often synonymous with an earthquake) and a ringing phone. In the days before cell phones, an old-fashioned phone was usually propped on a bedside table. If its ring shattered the silence, it was just jarring enough to cause instant panic. Who died?
These days, many people no longer have landlines, Kevin and I included. Cell phones and all that they can do – and let's face it they can do everything but go grocery shopping – have rendered landlines virtually extinct. This summer, after several years of threatening to pull the cord, we did, eliminating both our private line and our two business lines. Now the cell phones go with us everywhere, held in our hands or tucked in a pocket or a purse. They move to the coffee table at night when we set up to relax and watch a little tube before going to bed. Then they move into the bedroom, each taking up residence on its owner's table, hopefully to be silent until the morning.
We've had telemarketing calls come in fairly early, around 7 am. That's obnoxious, but we're usually not in that dead-like sleep where the real world has ceased to exist and instead has been replaced by strange happenings that seem, remarkably, normal. Being in the same space with a group of people I haven't seen since college. Driving a car that isn't mine and that I've never seen before and trying desperately to find my lost candy bar. The possibility of time travel where my dad is still alive and young, as are my brother and sister, but where I'm the same age or older than I am now. A story is born.
I can imagine that in this state, my eyes are engaged in the rapid movement scientists often discuss. I know that this morning at 4:20 I was deep in the zone. I have no idea what I was dreaming about but I know it was interesting in that way that dreams have of being just fascinating and making perfect sense while you're in them. It's probably one of the reasons they dissipate so quickly upon waking. They want to leave you with the feeling of wow rather than the more apt thought of WTF.
At 4:20 am, there was a loud bloutzel blang, the sound that Kevin's phone makes when it is getting a text message. Both of us sat up immediately, terrified. Hearts pounding. A cold sweat breaking out. Hair standing on end.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Your phone," I said, hyperventilating. "I think it was a text message."
"What time is it?"
"I have no friggin' idea. Who is texting you at this hour?"
"Where's my phone?"
"It must be over there. I heard it."
"I heard it, too. Shoot. Where's Cooper?"
Cooper was snoring. My heart was pounding as was Kevin's. He reached for his phone to find out who was texting us before 4:30 in the morning, interrupting our dreams, our sleep, our night. Jolting us awake in the same way as an earthquake or glass breaking or the old-fashioned jangling phones of old.
"Justin. He needs rent money."
"At 4:20 in the morning?!"
Granted it was 7:20 for Justin since he's in New York. Still. We both slid back down into the bed, under the covers. Cooper sighed. Seriously? We're up and talking? It's still dark out. After a while, we both drifted back off to sleep, back into dreamland, and back into the night. 4:20 is early to be so rudely awakened but the ability to get back to sleep is always something worth celebrating.
Tags: Celebrate, celebrate something, cooper, dog, Justin, Kevin Michel, living it out loud
It was an absolutely glorious day in the Southland so naturally my thoughts turned to Milwaukee. Allow me to set the stage. In typical K and L and C fashion, we were walking. It was about 8:06 or so when we got to the end of Hawthorne and crossed over Bowfield to head up into and around the cul de sac.
The sun was warm, unseasonably according to the weather dudes last night on KABC. Kevin was in shorts. I hadn't gotten to that point yet – something about it only being the middle of March and technically not yet shorts season. But I was in lightweight pants and just a long sleeve denim shirt. Cooper was dressed in his usual fur and Aztec collar. We spun up and around and as we did, we came upon the remnants of what was undoubtedly a wonderful little party last night. Said remnants consisted of an empty can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and some other blue bottle. I could see a cigarette butt or two. It all fit. Cheap beer and bad cigarettes. Probably teenagers.
Would you be surprised if I said it made me nostalgic for when I was a crappy teenager drinking cheap beer? I would be surprised, too. First, I would never be nostalgic for being a teenager. I hated being a teenager. And second, I was never particularly fond of cheap beer.
But the Pabst prompted a discussion with the shorts-clad Kevin.
Me: "Is that a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon?"
Kevin: "Yup."
Me: "I didn't even know they still made that stuff? Do they still make that stuff?"
Kevin: "Well, they must. Either that or that was a really old can of beer and that's just gross."
I nodded, we kept walking. Cooper didn't offer an opinion though he did lift his leg.
Me, after a few minutes. By now we were back onto Hawthorne but going the opposite direction. "Wasn't there another really cheap beer called Stroh's?" He nodded. Me, still: "Tim used to buy cases of really cheap beer when we lived in San Diego. But it only cost like $6.99 a case so it was like swill." Ah, memories. Misty, swilly-colored memories of the way I used to live my life. Cue Barbra Streisand. "But I don't think it was Stroh's. Was there something cheap that started with a B?"
He racked his brain. I could see him squinching his mouth, which is what he does when he's thinking really hard. Cooper was busy peeing on something else.
He offered Babst. But I thought he was joking.
Me: "You're kidding right?"
Kevin: "Yes. Actually it's Blatz. Or it was. I don't know that they make it anymore."
[They don't because it became Pabst in 1958.]
We kept walking and he began naming some cheap beers he could remember: Schlitz, Hamm's, Old Milwaukee.
Me: "That's it!"
Old Milwakee, which doesn't even have a "b" in it unless you count the "b" in Beer. It has evidently been a trusted, high quality beer since 1849, receiving awards and accolades. It became a value beer in 1955 when it was purchased by Schlitz Brewing. Then in 1982 both were acquired by Stroh's. Stroh's was acquired by Pabst in 2000. I just love how everything is cyclical.
I remember the beer cans on the bottom shelf of the used refrigerator in a ratty little apartment in San Diego in 1985. This was before Tim and I were even married. We were kids. We had no money. A case of beer cost $6.99. It was about all we could afford. I think at that point I was drinking Blue Nun Gewürztraminer so who am I to judge.
Old Milwaukee was brewed in Milwaukee, Wisconsin which has a section called the Third Ward that's located in the historic warehouse district of the city, a place that's home to more than 450 shops, restaurants, art galleries, theatre groups, creative businesses and residential homes. So there's Old Milwaukee and old Milwaukee. Since I was never big on beer and especially on cheap beer, I'm going with the latter, even though I've never been there.
Me: "You know I've never been to old Milwaukee."
Kevin: silence
Cooper lifted his leg. Again.
Tags: milwaukee, old milwaukee, cooper, Kevin Michel
It doesn't happen very often but every once in a while, in the middle of the night, I wake up badly. By badly I mean that I'm jolted awake, mostly by some unseen force buried deep within my brain. It has happened when the earth moves, too, of course, but the earth has not moved substantially here in quite some time (that sound you here is me and everyone else in California furiously knocking on any piece of wood within reach). Last night, I was in bed, minding my own business, all snug and warm under my multiple layers of blankets. I think I was dreaming. Then all of a sudden a very loud horn blared and I woke up with my heart pounding.
At first I thought it was in the house and I sat up straight, listening. We don't have anything in the house that makes a blasting horn sound so the rational part of me knew that it probably hadn't come from the house. Still, I was anxious. I glanced over at my nightstand clock. It was 3:54.
The room was inky black. I could hear Cooper huffing in his sleep and knew that soon his feet would start to race as he dreamt of whatever it is he dreams of when he sleeps. Kevin's steady breathing came from the other side of the bed, juxtaposed with my now panicky breathing. Where had the sound come from?
As I seemed to be the only one awake and anxious, I quickly surmised that it was all in my head and that the horn had sounded in my dream, but why? It was as it my subconscious did it purposely, to wake me up so that I could be drenched in anxiety and fear of something that didn't even exist.
I laid back down and pulled the covers up. It always amazes me how quickly I can become cold just by becoming conscious. I was very still, willing my body to rediscover the warmth that I'd had just moments before. I was also still listening for the horn. Even though I had pretty much decided I had either dreamt it or imagined it, I still thought I should err on the side of caution.
And as I was lying there, trying to alleviate the panic, trying to reassemble the warm, it happened. My brain caught fire and began to race around in my head in a desperate attempt to put itself out. This is a freak thing that occurs more often than I'd like and almost entirely when I'm stressed or worried or stressed and worried; when I have too much to do; when I'm hopelessly behind and have pressing deadlines that I can't imagine I'll meet; and when I purposely and purposefully didn't do as much as I should have during the preceding day and know that I didn't – knew it when I was actively not doing it – even try all that hard.
My heart began to race and I could feel the panic flooding through me anew. My on-fire brain was quickly darting from one project to another, and I knew that if I didn't find a way to extinguish it, I would be up the rest of the night. That would render me virtually worthless during the day and I would have yet another work period where I was hopelessly unable to accomplish anything of substance.
I finally started to get warm again, probably because of my brain fire and all, but I knew if I didn't get all of this stuff out of my head, I was doomed. Luckily, for Christmas, my son gave me a new handy, dandy light-up pen, specifically for panic attacks like this. I keep paper on my nightstand as well. I reached over, grabbed the pen, took a minute to remember how to turn on both the light and extract the ballpoint, and suddenly my entire side of the bed was bathed in white light. It was like ET had come to visit. In the process, he had practically blinded me.
After I screwed my pupils back into place and was able to see the paper, I began to scribble furiously, one thing after another, one reminder after the next, and as the list of things I needed to do when the sun came up, after I walked the dog and checked my three email boxes and my voice mails and my incoming text messages, took shape the fire in my brain started to burn out. Soon, I was simply burnt.
Now it was time to tackle the arduous task of talking myself back to sleep. Sometimes this works, often after I've dumped whatever is in my head out onto paper – I call this, appropriately, paper-training – but sometimes it doesn't. I'm too far gone. But I was determined to talk myself into the fact that yes, I had a lot to do but no, doing it in my head over and over and over again at now 4:21 am wasn't the best use of my time.
The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:36. All in all, not a bad mid-night panic attack.
And by 9:15 this morning, I had already crossed four things off of my scribbled list. It's amazing what you can do when you panic, when the senses are highly attuned, when every cell in your body is on alert. It's called focus. And it can work, but only if you have a light-up pen from your kid.
Tags: pilots pen, celebrate, insomnia, live it out loud, Kevin Michel, cooper
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|8"x8"x1", oil on masonite panel
If you'd like to purchase a print of this painting, please feel free to visit my Etsy shop!
This is still life #38 in my attempt at an ongoing "Painting A Day" challenge. I took this photo on one of many visits to my friend's lakehouse in NH. His house is hidden in a small cove and I repeatedly passed by this beautiful house on my right while kayaking out to the greater part of the lake. I loved the dramatic lighting it got by being just on the edge with the sun hitting only one side and the cove darkening the rest. I also love lake and beach houses in general, any kind of architecture so near the water is visually fascinating to me.
This is how it would look framed (actual painting does not include frame):


text: August 8, 2016 by Nic Starr ♬♬♬ Music ♬♬♬ This is Rayvon Owen with Can't Fight It. Rayvon was an American Idol contestant who has now found love with Shane Bitney Crone. So happy to see that Shane has found love again. ❤ ❤ ❤ Nic xx Advertisements Share this:TwitterFacebookPocketLinkedInGooglePinterestTumblrEmailLike this:Like Loading... Related


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by Buddy Maynard
(Panama City, FL)
Buddy & Chrissy Maynard
1 Corinthians 9:7-23 Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock? Say I these things as a man? or saith not the law the same also? For it is written in the law of Moses, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn. Doth God take care for oxen? Or saith he it altogether for our sakes? For our sakes, no doubt, this is written: that he that ploweth should plow in hope; and that he that thresheth in hope should be partaker of his hope. If we have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall reap your carnal things? If others be partakers of this power over you, are not we rather? Nevertheless we have not used this power; but suffer all things, lest we should hinder the gospel of Christ. Do ye not know that they which minister about holy things live of the things of the temple? and they which wait at the altar are partakers with the altar? Even so hath the Lord ordained that they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel. But I have used none of these things: neither have I written these things, that it should be so done unto me: for it were better for me to die, than that any man should make my glorying void. For though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of: for necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel! For if I do this thing willingly, I have a reward: but if against my will, a dispensation of the gospel is committed unto me. What is my reward then? Verily that, when I preach the gospel, I may make the gospel of Christ without charge, that I abuse not my power in the gospel. For though I be free from all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more. And unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to them that are under the law, as under the law, that I might gain them that are under the law; To them that are without law, as without law, (being not without law to God, but under the law to Christ,) that I might gain them that are without law. To the weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak: I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some. And this I do for the gospel's sake, that I might be partaker thereof with you.
1 Corinthians 15:1-6 Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures: And that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve: After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep.
Luke 4:18-19 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.
Acts 20:24 But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.
Romans 1:15-16 So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also. For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.
Romans 10:15 And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!
2 Corinthians 4:3-4 But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
The Beauty of the Gospel - Why is it beautiful? Why is it glorious?
1. The Christ that Converts the Sinner
Ephesians 2:1-5 And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins; Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience: Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others. But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;)
2. The Crimson Flow that Cleanses the Sin
Isaiah 1:18 Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.
3. The Complete Forgiveness Clears the Sentence
Ephesians 2:6-10 And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus: That in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus. For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
4. The Cross that Consecrates the Saint
Luke 9:23 And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.
5. The Commission that Commands the Surrendered
Mark 16:15 And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
Matthew 28:19-20 Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.
Luke 24:46-48 And said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day: And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things.
6. The Coming of the Lord that Encourages the Soldier
I Thess. 4:16-18
I John 3:2-4
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thyssen tower
Imagining an iconic tower within the city ofDubaiis in itself a "Droste effect".Dubaiborn from the desert,Dubaidrew strength from the riches of her territory to grow into the symbolic and powerful city she is today. IfDubaiis the contemporary city per se, she must continually project herself into the future in order to fight the hostility of her very much claimed for territory. An icon tower forDubaineeds not compete with an abundance of shapes and riches scattered across the skyline. Every new architectural folly is to doomed to be surpassed by another and as a result will lose itself in the urban décor. The matter at hand here is to seek the essence of cultural coherence and of an identity proper to the city.international competition status: project type: urban icon data: 2009, 1000m2 location: dubai team: jacquier, leroux collaboration : xy-ar.ch


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A Trump supporter from Indiana went to great lengths to protect his yard sign from getting stolen by thieves.
The homeowner, Phillip, who asked that news outlets only identify him by his first name, booby-trapped the sign with green fishing wire and string to keep would-be thieves away from it, RTV 6 reported.
RTV 6 reported Phillip later added a video camera that he hid in a nearby tree to record people who attempt to steal the sign.
Phillip said that he's caught two alleged thieves so far under his system.
"I'm 2-0 so far," he told ABC News.
The camera caught the second would-be thief in the act when a young woman attempted to take the sign and faceplanted on the ground as she attempted to escape.
"Whether it's a Bernie or Hillary or a Trump sign, you might disagree with whatever the politics are, but it's not yours," Phillip told RTV 6. "Leave it alone."


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Lionsgate, Zoetrope ink distribution deal
Contract gives Lionsgate N.A. rights to Coppola filmsTORONTO -- Lionsgate is getting into business with Francis Ford Coppola's Zoetrope Corp.
The home entertainment distribution deal, unveiled Monday, will see Vancouver-based Lionsgate grab the North American rights to a host of Coppola titles, including "Apocalypse Now," which is due on Blu-ray Oct. 19.
Lionsgate also receives the DVD, Blu-ray, electronic-sell-through, VOD and broadcast rights to "Apocalyse Now Redux," as well as "Tetro," Coppola's most recent theatrical release.
"Having directed, produced and written some of the most financially successful and critically acclaimed movies in U.S. cinematic history, Coppola is one of the masters of modern cinema. We are honored to add a selection of his most renowned and personal works to our library and look forward to releasing these titles on all formats," Lionsgate president and co-COO Steve Beeks said in a statement.
Coppola personally supervised new transfers of "Apocalypse Now" to enable two Blu-ray editions: a two-film set and the three-disc "Full Disclosure" edition, which includes the making-of documentary "Hearts of Darkness."
Lionsgate will also release the Zoetrope title "The Conversation," the Gene Hackman-starrer that earned the 1974 Palme d'Or at Cannes.


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ITSM Is Key To Digital Transformation
Any enterprise needs to move faster, but lack of process and legacy tools holds them back. Every day, thousands of customer requests, IT incidents, and HR cases follow their own paths—moving back and forth between people, machines and departments. Unstructured. Undocumented. Unimproved for years. US-based cloud and IT service management [ITSM] company, ServiceNow, with its India office in Bengaluru, claims that with its innovative solution, businesses can replace these unstructured work patterns of the past with intelligent workflows of the future. In other word, every employee, customer and machine can make requests on a single cloud platform.
"Every department working on these requests can assign and prioritize, collaborate, get down to root cause issues, gain real-time insights and drive to action. In the everything-as-a-service setting, your employees are energized, your service levels improve and you realize game-changing economics," states Venugopal S Arcot, Head- Solution Consulting-India, ServiceNow. In an exclusve conversation with CXOToday, Arcot explains why ITSM is key to digital transformation, the USP of the company's offerings and its plans for the Indian market. Excerpt.
- CXO Today: What are your plans in India for addressing larger corporate and SMB market?
Arcot: India is one of the fastet growing market across sectors , Telecom, Banking and Finance, Manufactiring , Autombile, Pharma & Healthcare , IT, ITES etc. ServiceNow is platform that caters to all sectors fulfilling its needs of IT and including IT Security, Customer Service Management, HR, Facilites Management and more. ServiceNow has its market focus on both Enterprise and Commercial (SMB) solutions addressing these sectors. The Now Platform delivers a system of action for the enterprise. Using a single data model, it's east to create contextual workflows and automate any business process across any industry.
- CXO Today: Being a leading player in ITSM space what are your plans to keep their momentum up?
Arcot: As per the latest Garter report 2016, ServiceNow has 43% market share in the ITSM space and we plan to continue this type of growth. Our strength comes from the robust platform that offers a whole new dimension to how we cater to the market needs. With ServiceNow's end-to-end transformation capabilities IT can increase agility and lower costs by consolidating legacy tools into a modern, easy-to-use service management platform. We see this as a key to continuing our success in the ITSM space.
We see ITSM from a top down perspecttives with its strength in its CMDB built on the same platform providing a seemless experience of Service Catalog, Service Management, Event Management, Service Mapping, Cloud lifecycle Mgmt etc . There is no broken thread in these interactions.
We see the end-to-end transformation driving through five areas:
i. Delivering IT service management on a single, cloud-based platformii. Elliminating service outages by proactively identifying service issues, pinpointing disruptions, and automating remediation
iii. Gaining cloud service oversight, minimizing risks, and reducing costs – simplified through self-service
iv. Acquiring a competitive portfolio and visibility to align bettere with the business, and accelerate service delivery
v. Prioritizing resources, improving decision making and validating investments for the IT organization
- CXO Today: Devops seems to be the flavor of the season. Will the servicenow platform shift toward it?
Arcot: DevOps has gained traction across most enterprises, even though only 21% have a company-wide DevOps push. Our research shows that use of right DevOps results in 22% less time spent on unplanned work, 24x fast recovery from failure, 3x lower change failure and 2000x shorter lead times for top performers (hours vs months). ServiceNow is investing in offering DEV-OPS solution on its platform and its strength in ease of integrations with common solution deployed for development and operations management. We see this manifesting into two areas - eliminating service outages by mapping business services to infrastructure, giving visibility into business service health and managing cloud sprawl by easily letting users request cloud services and allowing the IT department to take control of the cloud resources within the organization.
- CXO Today: How do you think Machine learning can impact the ITSM space. What key benefits are they seeing in this space?
Arcot: Machine learning is a reality and we will come hear more about it as we move forward and orgazaton become ready to adopt this technology. ServiceNow is already working some of the fututistic companies and enabling embrace the tehnology , some of the key use cases are Automated task routing or logging, Corelation through dynamic threshold , anomaly detection, predictive service outage and suprivsed learning thru advanced statistics based alorithms and advanced serach options making information availability more simpler
- CXO Today: What are the marketing activities you are planning in the Indian market?
Arcot: ServiceNow has invested successfully in Customer Service Management events and CIO Events. We have also partnered for Gartner Events. As we move forward, we will continue to study the market and invest in areas where it its Customers in their transformation programs.
- CXO Today: Are you 100% direct or you have a channel focus? If yes, please tell us about your channel plans.
Arcot: We have a strong partner model and majority of the business are driven through channel partners. We have built an eco system, that has dedicated focus and measured on quantifiable outcomes from channel partners. We would like our partners to be part of the Win-Win approach to drive success for our Customers. Customer success is the primary driver for ServiceNow and we thrive to make our partner ecosystem strong to support our growing customer base.
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Burton and Chingford Ponds Local Nature Reserve (LNR) is a complex of woodlands, heathland and parkland set around two large lakes. The two lakes were built in the 16th century to power the local iron industry. Waterfowl can be seen all year round and there is a rich variety of summer dragonflies such as the scarce chaser and emperor species. Plant life includes the pond edge and boggy plants such as tussock sedge and southern marsh orchid.
There are trails here suitable for people with impaired mobility, wheelchairs, mobility scooters and push chairs.