Frequent Blog visitor Lee, sent in these pictures of an awesome paint job he witnessed over near the '09 - surely a resident of Alamo Heights or Terrell Hills - and I just had to share with you folks.
The interesting thing is, the detail of the paint on this little car makes it almost appear as if Earl Scheib himself took the time to paint the individual little boxes full of snarky quips and humorous sayings. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were going for a custom bumper sticker look.
Strange. But pure genius.
We are apparently regular critter catchers. After the possum episode this past weekend, we thought we would put the trap out one more time just on the off chance that another one might come looking to play.
During the middle of the day, I had just set the thing out on the picnic table in the yard and my wife called me to report another quick catch.
This time, it was a bird. Don't worry, in spite of the awkward looking pose, the little guy was not harmed in any way. I lifted open the door and off he went to warn the others!
With that, I pretty much figured PETA would be kicking down our doors before long, so I washed the cage really well and we took it back to our association.
I don't know that this qualifies for the "Strange" moniker, but while we were walking around at Bussey's Flea Market today, I witnessed a couple transporting their beloved pup in a fancy dog stroller.
Let me be perfectly clear; no child or infant was in the stroller, just a little dog. 
My dog would like something like that, but she'd want her stroller to have air conditioning and a TV.
Okay, I'm thinking if you got a get out of jail card, you don't come back 15 minutes later. But sure enough, our little friend was apparently still hungry.
Sorry. As it turns out, he was inside the cage eating the rest of the dog food I put in as bait - I hadn't even reloaded. And once again, the door didn't close. So my wife walks over to look at him as a distraction and I throw a rock which hits the fence directly behind him causing him to eat more of the dog food. My seocnd throw was a strike, and both doors closed as designed.
I actually feel bad because he is a nice enough looking guy, and I think I scared the crap out of him with my wildly inaccurate rock throwing. But his nightly 10PM jaunts through our yard were creating all sorts of havoc with Gracie, and frankly, he may be a wild animal, but she has lived here longer.
Of course, our dog couldn't contain herself and had to get in a quick sniff before being sent back in the house until the dust settled.
We called Chief Burton from GNW Security and he arrived to take the trap and relocate our friend to greener pastures.
So long.
You have to actually catch the critter in order to release it...
So, I have mentioned a few times, including just last Friday how we have had a new friend come to play with our dog Gracie. I find the little opossum to be friendly, as does the dog, but admittedly, we have been told that they have recently been found to be rabid, so, well... enter the trap.
I went out this evening and set up an animal friendly trap that allows us to feed our little friend before relocating him to an area more suitable for him to enjoy his lifestyle of walking around yards at night looking for dog and cat food. I'm thinking there is a guy on Ridge Run who would enjoy another pet. (Just kidding - don't send letters to the editor - it's just a joke).
Anyway, the gist of the trap is, you set the bait, in this case, some of Gracie's food, the little critter walks in to eat, then steps on the trigger and the cage closes.
I walked out back to recycle a can in my can cruncher, and there he was, eating like a fat kid trapped in a cake shop, only the cage was wide open.
WTH?
Naturally, I went back inside to grab my camera and after we exchanged pleasantries, the opossum decided to leave. That's him jumping from the table to the ground as I watch. Apparently, the little guy wasn't heavy enough to drop the doors.
So, off he went.
I have an ongoing project of scanning in the hard copy photographs that fill boxes of photo albums throughout the house. As I was going through yet another shoebox full of pictures taken over the years, tossed in in no particular order, I came across this little gem:
This is what happens when you burn your kitchen down. Or what the fire department guys call, a simple grease fire.
This one probably deserves more than a single picture, so I'll expand by telling you first and foremost, that even though I like to tell people about the time my wife burnt down the kitchen, this event was caused by the both of us being amazingly, irresponsibly, stupid. Maybe we can save you the excitement.
This whole thing started because my wife had had an incredibly productive day at home while I was having a remarkably productive day at work. She had done a series of things including painting the front door to our house, getting the grill set-up, having burger patties all set out and ready to grill and so forth.
Like a regular Leave it to Beaver episode, I walked in the front door from work and my wife greeted me with a beer and pointed me to the grill. I wonder if Ward Cleaver drank beer or cooked out? As my son played video games in his room, my daughter was on the computer in the room next to the kitchen doing homework or chatting.
I would throw the burgers on low, and my wife would heat up some oil to cook some home made steak fries. But, then the question came? "Did you notice I painted today?" my wife asked, and that would set-off a series of silly mistakes that lead to fire.
I don't even recall the time of year, but it must have been cool enough that the A/C wasn't on because when I walked in from the grill, I left the back door open. We walked out through the garage, and I opened up the garage door, then walked around to inspect the new paint on the front door. We could not have been outside for more than a minute to two minutes, simply because I was worried about the burgers on the grill and my wife was worried about the grease on the stove.
My daughter, sitting in the room next to the wall on fire, later said she heard the crackling sound of the fire, but thought it was the french fries cooking in the grease.
Even though we have one of those glass top stoves (no actual gas flame), the hot grease combined with the flow of the air caused by the doors on either side being wide open, sparked.
When we walked in, my wife was in front of me and could see the flames first. She began yelling Hey, Hey, Hey! instead of Fire! Fire! Fire!
Having no idea what it was about, I walked in with bottle of beer in full tilt and suddenly get the jolt of my life. My first reaction was to grab a cover for the pan to stop the grease and flames from spreading. Unfortunately, the cover to the pan was in the cabinet below the flames.
Suddenly, what little common sense I have, kicked into action: To my wife, "Call 9-1-1, NOW!" To my son who ran into the room, "Go turn off the breaker for the stove and the kitchen!" And to my daughter, "Get out of the house!"
And then common sense generally left me. I couldn't find a cover for the pan so I began to consider other options. At a point like this, who remembers science from the fifth grade and the business about flour and fire or corn meal and fire or baking soda and fire or sugar and fire? I mean, who knows?
All I did know was that by the time the cabinets were inflamed, and the plastic decorative grates from our light fixtures in the ceiling had melted and fallen on top of me, that it was no longer an issue of saving the kitchen, but now limiting the damage to the first story of the house. I ran to the front of the house and pulled the garden hose inside with the idea that I could spray the cabinets and ceiling and avoid the grease which would obviously not be a good thing.I got off maybe one or two shots at the upper cabinets then finally used a towel or something to get the main fire out. Just as the San Antonio Fire Department calmly strolled into the front door.
I can tell you this - from the time my wife called until they were at our door could not have been more than 4 to 5 minutes. We live very close to the fire station, and of course now, more than ever I appreciate it.
The fire was clearly out but to be safe, the fireman walked in with his long poking stick and said, "Oh look, a simple grease fire" then promptly poked a hole through the wall behind the stove, pulled out some smoldering sheet rock and took a flash light to insure that there was no fire inside the wall.
They closed the windows that we had opened, then hooked up some fans to suck out most of the smoke. One of the firefighter put my daughter on oxygen to help her get the smoke she had sucked up out. Maybe she didn't go outside when I told her to!
Oh, the other thing is, just at the time the fire went out and the fire department rolled in, our smoke alarm from the second story hall way started beeping that loud piercing sound to alert us to the smoke. Nice.
So we learned a few things. Like now, we actually have a fire extinguisher. And we now have a smoke alarm near the kitchen, not just near the bedrooms.
And we got a new kitchen.
I made a solo trip down to the lodge of the Great Northwest to attend the meeting of the Board of Directors of the GNWCIA this evening; my wife was off gallivanting with the girls over at Johnny Carinos, and by all accounts, I got the better end of the deal. My wife can address the failures of Carinos on her own time; I'll fill you in on the details of the board meeting.
This new board is all about getting on with it. No endless whining or demands to consult the lawyer. But in fairness, some of the audience members would like to get a little more interaction. We had several folks sign up to speak and instead of being able to ask questions to the board, they are simply making statements. The board takes note of anything that needs to be responded to and I assume it is addressed later. I know some of my neighbors don't like this; a resident should be able to voice a complaint and get an answer from the board.
Hmmm. I'm gonna have to say I've witnessed the free-for-all in the past, and I prefer this method.
The other thing the board is doing is sticking to the three-minute rule. And in fact, we had one resident speaking on multiple topics regarding the recreation department, the pools, the bulletin boards and, oh yes, some person threw-up in one of the pools today, prompting it to be closed for an hour. Apparently, upon close inspection, no chlorine shock of the system was conducted which meant that it may well have been a re-make of the pool scene in Caddy Shack! Eewww!
Okay, so with that the speaker's three-minutes were up and she responded with, "But I just got to the best part!" To me, that's like saying, "Hold my beer and watch this!"
What I could discern from the conversation that took place away from the public address system, was that the speaker felt that another resident owed a board member an apology for comments that had been made at the previous board meeting. This resulted in the challenged resident to respond that she did not owe anyone an apology. There was some Yes you do - No I don't back and forth, and then the speaker left the podium.
As God is my witness, my camera was sitting in the console of my van in the parking lot and my cell phone was powered off, so my primary source of pictures and the alternate were both out of action. I was convinced fisticuffs would ensue in full cat fight fashion, and I'd be standing there gawking with a pen and the back of a Styrofoam coffee cup trying to sketch artist my way onto the front page of the Express-News. But no luck. Calmer heads prevailed and the meeting moved on without further incident.
I am pleased to report that the story I did regarding the greenbelt in our area was picked up for publication in Passages. I'll be happy to sign your copy next month.
One other thing to note. There is an issue about getting the budget or the financial report submitted for review. Some of the residents who spoke would like to see the thing finally finished up and presented to members. I've said it before and mentioned it again to a few of the concerned residents that, maybe we should give the folks a chance to get things figured out. We have a fairly new community manager, we have had numerous staff changes in the accounting area and of course we have a new board. But, it has been a while.
Okay, so there you have it. My quick minutes. You do know of course that as a resident, you can always go to the office and request the official minutes of the meetings and the closed sessions. All you have to do is ask. But I bet there won't be any cat fight references. So always check here, first.
The interesting thing is, the detail of the paint on this little car makes it almost appear as if Earl Scheib himself took the time to paint the individual little boxes full of snarky quips and humorous sayings. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were going for a custom bumper sticker look. 
This time, it was a bird. Don't worry, in spite of the awkward looking pose, the little guy was not harmed in any way. I lifted open the door and off he went to warn the others!
Let me be perfectly clear; no child or infant was in the stroller, just a little dog. 
My dog would like something like that, but she'd want her stroller to have air conditioning and a TV.
Sorry. As it turns out, he was inside the cage eating the rest of the dog food I put in as bait - I hadn't even reloaded. And once again, the door didn't close. So my wife walks over to look at him as a distraction and I throw a rock which hits the fence directly behind him causing him to eat more of the dog food. My seocnd throw was a strike, and both doors closed as designed.
I actually feel bad because he is a nice enough looking guy, and I think I scared the crap out of him with my wildly inaccurate rock throwing. But his nightly 10PM jaunts through our yard were creating all sorts of havoc with Gracie, and frankly, he may be a wild animal, but she has lived here longer.
Of course, our dog couldn't contain herself and had to get in a quick sniff before being sent back in the house until the dust settled.
We called Chief Burton from GNW Security and he arrived to take the trap and relocate our friend to greener pastures.
Anyway, the gist of the trap is, you set the bait, in this case, some of Gracie's food, the little critter walks in to eat, then steps on the trigger and the cage closes.
Naturally, I went back inside to grab my camera and after we exchanged pleasantries, the opossum decided to leave. That's him jumping from the table to the ground as I watch. Apparently, the little guy wasn't heavy enough to drop the doors.
So, off he went.
This is what happens when you burn your kitchen down. Or what the fire department guys call, a simple grease fire.
I can tell you this - from the time my wife called until they were at our door could not have been more than 4 to 5 minutes. We live very close to the fire station, and of course now, more than ever I appreciate it.
The fire was clearly out but to be safe, the fireman walked in with his long poking stick and said, "Oh look, a simple grease fire" then promptly poked a hole through the wall behind the stove, pulled out some smoldering sheet rock and took a flash light to insure that there was no fire inside the wall.
They closed the windows that we had opened, then hooked up some fans to suck out most of the smoke. One of the firefighter put my daughter on oxygen to help her get the smoke she had sucked up out. Maybe she didn't go outside when I told her to!
I made a solo trip down to the lodge of the Great Northwest to attend the meeting of the Board of Directors of the GNWCIA this evening; my wife was off gallivanting with the girls over at Johnny Carinos, and by all accounts, I got the better end of the deal. My wife can address the failures of Carinos on her own time; I'll fill you in on the details of the board meeting.
