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Keuffel & Esser pencil sharpener ... and writing longhand

Finding this interesting pencil sharpener at a church sale yesterday reminded me how much I like writing in longhand because it did such a good job of sharpening a 'tool of the trade' - the pencil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Look at that nifty point!  

The machine-looking object was on the stationery table and I thought it might be a pencil sharpener - unlike any I had seen before - and one of the men sellers confirmed this;  he said you twirled the pencil around.

I googled and found out it was meant for drafting pencils;  it works just fine on my ordinary ones; I like to think of its intended use and imagine where it has travelled over the years. I opened it up and there were lead shavings but no wood shavings; wonder how it will deal with my  kind of pencils.

It is very satisfying to use;  the sharpener is heavy and steady and the circular motion gets to the point;  you don't turn the pencil in the cylinder - you hold it and turn it around the whole base!  Simple.  Somehow reassuring.

It was while writing notes for this blog with the well-sharpened pencil that I got to thinking about longhand writing and how a lead can be too thin and break or too thick and not give a fine enough point for writing;  this sharpener is perfect.

 Writing by hand is constantly changing; it invites and encourages and fosters variation in how the pencil is held, at what nearness to the lead, at what angle, with what pressure.  

I can look at what I have written and tell what mood I was in when I wrote it. 

I can vary mood by playing with the writing - extend the length of the words,  lengthen or shorten the letters,  slant this way, now that way,  grip the pencil tightly, let it sit lightly in my fingers and follow it more than direct it.

Many letters, journals, poems, stories, books, plays, columns, articles, reviews,  memories, conversations, recipes, lunch box notes, lists (!), post-its, thoughts, ideas, ponderings  .... have been written  over the years and there is a rhythm that happens between mind and hand.  A flow.

It feels as if this pencil sharpener is honouring the last stage, through the lead, before the words attach themselves, secure themselves to the page -the paper... the fibre ...  Ah, the fibre - but that's another story.

 

Garage sale treasure: pocket watch stand

I had no  idea what this was when I saw it on a miscellaneous table at a garage sale;  sometime the objects surrounding give a clue; not this time. I had to inquire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The side view was as interesting as the front.  At this point it reminded me of something nautical.

It was solid to the touch. Worthwhile.  Weighty.

I had just come from a garage sale where the person did not know what an item was or where it had come from and seemed a bit cagey about my inquiries (this happens often enough to make me increasingly curious about the whys and leads to some interesting speculation in the weekly church sale line-ups).

However the seller knew exactly what this item was.  A pocket watch stand!  

Well, being immersed in Downton Abbey, film and  book, I could immediately  'see' that stand on one of the gentlemen's bureaus.  

"Are you interested?" the seller asked as I was admiring it.

I told him I  had no use for it but it was very lovely and likely had quite the history.

Then he gave it to me.

I accepted it with gratitude, saying I was not sure what I would do with it beyond admiring it, thinking that perhaps this was yet another incidence of being a 'catalyst'.  He said that was fine.

It sat in the living room for a few weeks, being admired .... waiting ......

  

It was waiting for me! 

The pocket watch without its band (I forget what happened to it; have some notion that I also got it at a garage sale years ago without a band) which has been leaning against the kitchen window for years,  suddenly ticked or blinked or whatever watches do to catch one's attention and.....  some black twine got attached as a hanger ..... it now 'stands out'.

 

Life: Mission Statement

 

I am on a life long  journey of self: an interested,  cheerful participant;  a ‘light bulb’ on a universal cord with Source as the electricity; a body clothing Spirit seeking self/Self awareness.

The physical/mental/spiritual/temporal being knows on all levels what is needed and wanted for ‘wellness/wellbeing’ and provides this when allowed, when we cease the resistance and or interference.

We don’t learn anything new; we are all-knowing Source in a body;  we ‘remember’ and there are tools and guides to help us in this quest, to access and use what we know.

We are part of an expanding universe and are meant to expand. 

Science with its increasing technology is able to observe and measure what we (religion, philosophy, psychology,  experience, common sense) know and feel and this satisfies the intellect,  affirms/confirms the metaphysical,  encourages the expansion.

Our free will or focus is one tool; breath awareness is another.

It is all about energy: focusing on what we want as if we already have it; feeling the vibrations of this;  opening and accepting and allowing these vibrations to manifest in our reality.

 

'Gardening' : first, get comfortable..........

(repost)

When presented with a house and property and turning it into a home and garden,  the practice that has proved beneficial and worthwhile over the years has been to live with both structure and land across all four seasons before making any major changes or decisions.  To observe how the light changes  over twelve months,  where the  wind does and doesn't  go,  which parts capture the sun and  the moon.  To watch what is already there and how it is added to and subtracted from by nature.  To see how my input is received and welcomed or not.

The next step - and this is most important - once the spot is chosen as most suitable for contented living (in both the home and the garden) - plop down in  it!  Add the details around it. 

"Plopping down" means providing comfortable seating.  Truly comfortable seating: it is quite amazing and alarming how many most is not!  When you find a chair in which you can really relax in - clone it.  Or something. 

In one garden,  stumps rounded by the ocean were ideal:  they were a happenstance find on a beach;  once sat upon and then sat into (there is a difference) and sat into for a contemplative  period of time - they were carted home.  Thank goodness for a strong friend with a truck. 

In another garden two tub chairs did not look comfy but they were.  In that same garden so was a wide wooden swing.  Some deck chairs are great; some not: test drive! 

Which brings me to the present garden; a year of unusually windy conditions had me looking for a sheltered spot in the garden.  The front stairs provide a sunny nook but the steps are too narrow to sit upon for any period of time.  (We did once turn conventional porch stairs into wide steps and that is where people tended to sit although there were seats on the veranda - I think it had something to do with how you could sprawl and rest on an elbow. )

So when I noticed that there was a space behind the holly tree that was tucked out of the way of the wind - I checked it out.  The picture above/left is what you see from the front.  The space  is small and cosy and fits one chair.
It is a work in progress, this pocket. (photo mid left)   I cut a hollow out of the holly.  I'll add some garden art to the wall of the stairs.  I disturbed the ground with my 'moving in' so now it is a wait and see ; there is a fern plant that I could not re-locate but I expect it will perk up.  There look to be some violet leaves.  I may stick some sweet woodruff along the side. 

This is what it looks like when seated in the chair; there is a two-tiered rock foot rest;  the cats have come to visit;  the front garden is visible through the holly branches but in a private sort of way.

Since making the spot two days ago it has been sunny and warm and a bit breezy - the kind of weather for sitting in the open air places in the garden. 

This new nook is ready for when needed.

Street combing ; Govt. House

This is the pathway up to the Lookout at Govt. House here in Victoria BC.

I was on an early morning stroll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And sat here on a bench; opened to the surroundings as one can do when in a still state in a natural setting.

It was only when I was leaving, half an hour or so later, that I noticed the object on the ground, beside the path.

 

 

 

 

 

A used tea bag.  Catering to Calm.  

What wonderful things wash up on urban shores by the tide of humanity.

How fascinating to speculate on the type of person who would bring a mug of tea with such a tea bag and then toss the tea bag on the ground. Not judgmental:  curious.

Details of an episode on this 'simplifying' adventure

The coffee grinder on the left joined the household this morning.  If it is deemed a permanent occupent the one in the middle will trot away.

The one on the right is the  coffee grinder I have had for a few years, obtained at a church sale, and which is serving well. 

Thing is, when one does not buy new when one can buy used, there is the tendency to have a 'spare' on hand as replacement, particularly when such a lovely looking coffee grinder as the middle one presented at the local weekly church sale a month or so ago.

The chrome one sat on the counter, gleaming, and black one became the spare, in the cupboard.

It looked very nice, it worked fine .... but ... it wasn't - simple.  After every use it required cleaning around the blades and in the dome or the coffee grounds clogged up.  To heck with that.  When you get used to convenience .... you realize its worth: the psychology of de-cluttering, of simplifying.

The domed chrome got put in the cupboard as the spare; black one remained in its handy usual spot in the cupboard;  the cleared counter space looked nice.

This morning the yellow one showed up at a garage sale. I liked the colour, I liked the brand; I asked the seller if it still worked fine despite two tiny cracks in the body at the top edge.  She  said she didn't know as it was part of what a friend had put in the sale but she immediately suggested we plug it in and see.  It worked. 

So it came home with me.  It was grubby and I enjoyed cleaning it up; I find this satisfying.  The date on bottom says 1998 with a Toronto address of the importer.  I like knowing such things.

If it grinds the beans and cleans up nicely - I will know this within a day or two - then the chrome one will be donated back to the church sale and saffron one will either become main one or spare or a turn-taker.

 

 

 

The examined life; playing with breath

 This can be done while meditating,  cooking dinner,  at a red light,  walking,  in a meeting,  studying,  playing golf,   during a commercial, on an airplane,  watching a butterfly,  falling asleep .....;  when feeling content, sad, anxious, relaxed ...... 

* On the in breath,  through nostrils,  tongue lightly against roof of mouth,  think/feel the word ALLOW.

On the out breath,  through pursed lips,  tongue relaxed,  think/feel the word  OPEN. **

Repeat * to **  three times.  

 

 

Drying apples : snacking 'garden'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've dried apples in different ways over the years from stringing and hanging to using a dehydrator; this is the simplest: sliced and simply set in front of a window.  Sunny weather and the window being open speeds up the process. I also like the thought of moonlight doing its bit.

I am pleased with how easy and quick and convenient it is to do.

I keep adding as the supply diminishes;  it is interesting to compare degrees of drying; the pleasant taste and crunch of ones semi-dried; the variation in sweetness.  

These are all ambrosia apples (my favourite).  I plan to try granny smith and other types of the many apples available.

The examined life; accumulative ages

If we go to India for a visit we recall what it was like to be there even when we are no longer in India but when we are back home.  A thought or sound or sight or smell may be the trigger and suddenly we are 'in India' again; it has become a part of us.

It is the same with ageing.

We have been two years old, eight years old, twelve years old etc.  But we think we have left those ages behind, never consider that ageing is accumulative, that we carry the experience of each age, that it is often triggered.  That we now are a two year old etc. with thirty-six or forty-nine or whatever years of living.  This awareness, this attitude, this 'tool' is most worthwhile.

And if time is ubiquitous, then at aged two and aged eleven etc. we are also our forty-five year old self,   our nineteen year old self etc.

Puts a different perspective on the age we think we are now. 

Church sale finds: phone and dog

I was exclaiming over the radio at the weekly church sale - just what I had been looking for - a small plug in radio with FM and no digital clock (fed up with having to go around and adjust all the clocks when the power hiccups) so did not immediately notice this splendid phone. Then I did.  

 

 

 

 

 

Simple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was still attached underneath (oh, I enjoy such 'history').  So the warranty expired on April 15 1987; warranties usually being for a five year period back then it means the phone was purchased in 1982 which coincides with what a Google search came up with - that these phones were made in the 80's.

 

 

 

 

I was not expecting it to work -  decorative would have been fine - but it does!  So it replaced the phone on the bedside table.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At a church sale this morning this dachshund presented.  We had one just like it on our desk back in the Fifties.

The sponge that was in its head and would have served to lick stamps is now mostly powder.

 

 

It goes well with the phone.