Elser Family Blog

I had a team in the “Heart Walk (and run) this weekend. Arturo and his family joined us in North Augusta for local hospitals “Heart Walk”. It was an odd distance at 4.3 miles.. but OK! I ran it at a 8:40 pace. Still working up my speed from winter.

I made a light fixture and small logo for a local resturant, “Craft & Vine”. Turned out pretty nice.

Hannah joined us for the First Friday Hackathon at the clubhouse, and learned to make felt.. It’s much more interesting than it sounds..
🙂

RIP: Pete Seeger

This is a reference to Pete’s Song “Where have all the flowers gone”. Pete was one of my favourite musicians. He will be missed. This is as awesome tribute cartoon to him!

More Observations

I have lived here for ~11 years?

And I never realized the school bus would stop in front of the house.

Seriously.. I did not know that.

The problem is, it stops 45 minutes before school starts, and we live within walking distance.

There is probably some commentary to go along with the concept, but I will decline at this moment.

🙂

Young makers, and a spider.

Tonight was young makers.. three girls and two boys have been working on a website.. feel free to check it out at youngmakers.theclubhou.se . And while they where working on that, I showed Hannah the little guy I found out at the transmitter this afternoon. Hannah had no qualms about handling him.

Minibikes and Hammers

Backstory: This winter, on one of our bike rides to the grocery store, Hannah and I came upon a guy loading minibikes on the back of a trailer behind the K-mart. I struck up a converstation (much to Hannah’s dismay.. ha) and it turns out he travels the east coast, and has a contract to buy all retured minibikes from Kmart for a set price (I’m guess it’s, oh, ~75$ each?) Anyway, the returns run the gamut from completly worn out (why did they take it back?? the tires are WORN OUT.. you know what it takes to wear a tire off of a minibike??) to brand new, still in the box. Kmart sells them for 500$, 400$ on sale occationally. This guy said he would sell me one right there for 200$. Well, since is was one that was right out of the box with 0 miles, I figured that was a pretty good deal!

That said, it sat in the garage until recently when Melinda asked to ride it. I dont think they have been off of it since. Rockwell, Melinda and a couple friends have been riding it.

Rockwell in action.

Melinda is having way more fun on this than I expected her too.. I dont know why I didn’t think she would, She is inclined toward mechanical things…

When Melinda and her friend Hannah were not riding this thing, they were putting doors on the grounded tree house, and painting some things on the inside. Gotta like when kids weild hammers!

Garage cam is back up

You can click here to see it

Looks like my provider changes my IP address often.. I will fix that… It should work again.. and Im in the garage welding ifn you want to see…

Feedback

I sent a note to the teacher that oversees the afterschool tutoring.

How is Hannah doing with the tutoring? Is she being helpful? She has already said she has learned things herself doing it.
Regards, Ed

Here is the teachers reply:

I really appreciate her giving up her time to help. YES, she has been really helpful! So many of my NHS kids won’t take the time to stay, and it leaves me with a dilemna. I know I can count on Hannah.

Updates

Just a couple of pictures from the last few weeks.
Here is one of Hannah being silly in the local K-mart.

We had a blacksmith “Hammer-in”, a gathering of blacksmiths, where we all make a item. This time we made a oyster knife. I’ll have to take a picture of it.. it turned out really nice! FYI, this location we are at is located less than a mile from my house! It’s called “the living history park” in north Augusta. very nice.

Here I am at the anvil with some hot iron. Yes, that is a wooden forge I am using!

Hannah and I almost always ride our bikes to the grocery now. Here we are on our way out. Groceries loaded up!

Here is my fixie pretty much complete. I’m still trying to get used to riding fixed gear… Not being able to coast takes getting used to!

Here is a good one of me working on a live truck. Gotta love our 500 foot SST (self supported tower) in the background.. FYI, it’s 60 feet wide at the base.

Melinda makes the Honor Roll

Melinda Made the Honor Roll the first semester. She had a tough time in Spanish, as she had to catch up to kids that have been taking Spanish for years…. but she did it! Congratulations Melinda! You make us proud! Melinda works so hard at school. If she keeps her effort up, nothing is going to stop her.

New favorite Poet

I think I have a new favorite Poet.
Richard Blanco wrote a poem for President Obama’s second inauguration, and as far as I’m concerned, it was the highlight of the show.

Hearing him read this at the inauguration today was awesome.

“One Today”

One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
One light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story
told by our silent gestures moving behind windows.

My face, your face, millions of faces in morning’s mirrors,
each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper — bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives — to teach geometry, or ring up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.

All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the “I have a dream” we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won’t explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.

One ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father’s cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.

The dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
mingled by one wind — our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day’s gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.

Hear: squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
or whispers across cafe tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me — in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.

One sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.

One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn’t give what you wanted.

We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always — home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country — all of us —
facing the stars
hope — a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it — together