Old and less old

Well here is what the stook looks like when it is together.  I wish it was intact with all of the original wood, but I think I am just going to say it has character.  What do you guys think?  Should I try to refinish it or just re-upholster?  As I ambulate further down the road of life, I am starting to appreciate antiques more.  How many people do you think haved owned this stool?  What type of music did they like to play?  Did their mothers make them practice even when they didn't want to? I like to think of all the things they exsisted through.  This piano stool has seen the Civil war, WWI, WWII, Korean War, Vietnam, The Cold War, Desert Storm, and is now living through Operation Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom.  Or you could think of the stool as having seen emancipation, the recognition women's rights, the great depression, the advance of modern medicine, landing on the moon, and the rise of the internet.  So much history has occured since this stool was forged and I am sure much more will pass it by, and that is why I like antiques.  They endure, and stand the test of time in juxtaposition with our limited human lifespans.

Old and less old

My musical endeavors

I have been playing all three of my instruments almost daily, but just becauase I can play them doesn't necesscarily mean I can play them well.  I have started to play the pan flute again, and am actually enjoying trying to figure out songs.  I have almost all of one of the Lord of the Rings songs figured out and it sounds good to my ears, unfortunately it does not sound good to Khan's and he cries along with it.  I feel pretty awful, but he did that with the fiddle too until I stopped screeching.  I may not be musically talented, but I do enjoy playing.

Strawberry jam

You may have notcied that I have not been posting about Marzipan lately.  I am finally getting along with that goat.  It seems we are of an accord now and the remaining spats are limited and ended by me and the spray bottle.  It is both good and bad, I no longer have anything really to post about, and yet I am finally enjoying milking her rather than dreading it.  I am still trying to find her a goat friend, hopefully one pops up.

The chicks are all coming along quite nicely. Camille found a discarded hair tie underneath the house, apparently left by the former tenants, she ran around all in a tizzy until I caught her and ruined the fun.  Agnes killed a baby gecko the other day, she ate the body, but the tail had fallen off and was twitching on the ground and she just couldn't figure out what to do with it.  Chickens are super predators, they will go after anything that moves, it made me think about Jurassic park and velociraptors (sp?), I am glad chickens don't get any bigger than they do. They are starting to discover their "big girl" voices and sound pretty awkward.  Something like a boy going through puberty.  Not quite a cheep, but not quite a cluck.  Annalise is still making me concerned she is really an Adam.... I suppose I will know when she crows.