How tangible should it be?

Recently, Don and I were discussing the intricacies of cryptocurrencies. We agreed neither of us really understand these assets, and therefore (even if we had the money to do so) they would make lousy investments for us. But, it being winter and therefore since he's spending more time at the computer, Don decided to try and get a handle on cryptocurrencies in expectation of justifying our initial thoughts.

In the wake of the whole Sam Bankman-Fried scandal, there are a lot of others questioning the wisdom of investing in cryptocurrencies. But, like every other financial bubble in the past, many people got caught up in the frenzy, tragically sunk their life savings into it, and got wiped out. (Remember the tulip mania bubble?)

That's the problem with non-tangible investments, you see. At least tulips are real; but what is a Bitcoin, really? Or an Etherium or Dogecoin or any of the literally thousands of other cryptocurrencies out there (over 9,000 varieties as of a recent count)? Do they truly exist and have actual value, or are they simply  computer algorithms that people became convinced are actually worth something? I mean, fiat currency (like the dollar, created and guaranteed by the U.S. government) is only valuable because there is a group-think agreeing it's valuable; but at least such currencies have a long history as a means of exchange.  But with cryptocurrencies, any "value" seemingly comes out of thin air.

There are other problems associated with cryptocurrencies. Aside from the fact that their only value rests on finding someone who will buy them from you (hopefully for more than you paid), they represent ... nothing. They're not "backed" by anything (labor, precious metals, or even "the full faith and credit of the United States government"). Their continued existence depends upon the indifference of controlling legal authorities, and that indifference can be shattered pretty quickly as soon as a government decides it's not getting its "cut."

The prime example of this – and the model for the coming regulation-to-destruction of the private crypto market – is the actions of China, which has made the trade, transfer, creation, and holding of all cryptocurrencies illegal. Why would China do this? For the same reasons that will soon be coming to your neighborhood: too much undocumented financial freedom in the hands of the citizens and not enough fiscal control for our public servants.

The other shortcomings of cryptocurrencies are important, such as the wild booms-and-busts that can occur when someone like Elon Musk says that Tesla will accept crypto, then changes his mind a few months later. Or that fact that crypto-mining uses more electricity per year that the nation of Finland. Or that something like 80 percent of all cryptocurrencies have failed, leaving tens of thousands of investors broke.

This is why we've never liked the idea of cryptocurrencies or other intangibles, and have always been keen on tangible investments. As the saying goes, you can't eat gold or silver; so our preferred tangible investments involve things that reproduce (cows, chickens) or can be saved and regrown (fruits and vegetables). Among these tangible investments we include owning our small farm and the woodworking business. Each of these assets can (and do) produce income if managed correctly – something that cryptocurrencies simply can't do.

Don and I have always been outside-the-box thinkers. Our notion of "investing" is far from conventional. During our younger years, we were so busy building the woodcraft business that we had no spare income to "invest" in traditional options such as retirement plans and the stock market. Now that we're more financially stable, we know nothing about these intangible investments and don't feel comfortable putting our hard-earned money someplace we don't understand (and, in the wake of the Sam Bankman-Fried scandal, apparently a lot of other people don't understand it either).

So what, to us, is a "tangible" investment? Quite simply it's something that allows us to cut our expenses still further. Cows, for example, will cost money at first, but then they'll save us money (on meat and dairy products). Ditto with chickens. We invest in lumber and other building supplies against future projects that will contribute toward self-sufficiency. We invest in fruit trees and blueberry bushes so we won't have to buy fruit. We invest in materials for garden beds so we won't have to buy vegetables.

In short, anything that allows us to stay home and provide for our own needs is a "tangible investment" in our book.

How about you?

Two years ago today

It was two years ago today that we dragged ourselves into our new (to us) home. It was dark, it was raining, and we were beyond exhausted.

After the rigors of moving twice in two months (first moving into a rental, then moving into our current home) we vowed never to move again. What a chore!

But that decision has actually been good for us. It allows us to make long-term plans.We've accomplished a lot in two years, with lots more to do.

But we're not in a hurry. After all, we're never moving again, God willing. Twice in two months was plenty.

Happy birthday, Older Daughter

Today is Older Daughter's birthday!

We're not doing much except battening down hatches and getting ready for snow as well as an ugly cold snap.

But that's okay. We're all warm and together. That's what counts. Happy birthday, dear daughter!

Every writer's worst nightmare

A post just came across the Love Inspired writer's forum as follows, in which an author experienced every writer's worst nightmare:

"So my upcoming release has a significant error in it right at the end. I actually killed someone and then have him standing trial a few pages later. It's a BIG mistake that no one caught. I've already gotten dozens of emails through my website and the book doesn't even release until the end of January. I know once it does, I'm going to get bombarded with emails and messages. Ugh!

"Have any of you found a brilliant way of responding to this? I'm already dreading the 'yes, I'm aware/sorry about that' apology tour that's coming my way."

Somehow this error escaped all the editorial filters on the way to production. Every last person responding to this author is wincing in sympathy and offering examples of their own mistakes that ended up in print.

That's why I'm not giving out the author's name or book title. I don't want to make her situation worse. But yowza, she has my sympathy. There but for the grace of God....

Cover art for my next book!

I received the finalized cover art for "The Quilter's Scandalous Past." Take a look!

In reading the chatter on the author forums, once in a while the subject of cover art comes up, with writers relating their best and worst experiences. I don't know if I've just been lucky, but so far I've been more than pleased with every cover they've designed for me.

Close encounters

Before dawn a few days ago, I stepped out on the back porch to check the morning temperature. I scared up an elk right in our backyard, not more than a few feet away. Without really taking note of what startled it, the animal darted behind our shed. I stood still on the porch and noted four or five more elk in our driveway just outside the yard gate.

Within a few minutes, the backyard elk came out from behind the shed and started walking toward me until it was only 10 feet away or so (I don't think it noticed me since I was standing stockstill). I tell ya, until you're right next to these critters, you don't realize how big they are. I didn't have my camera, and it was too dark for photography anyway, but it was impressive just the same. Close encounters of the third kind.

As it got lighter, I watched the small herd move out of the driveway into our lower pasture.

About this time, Older Daughter was leaving for work. She stepped outside, then came back in a few moments later. "Is that elk just rolling in the snow or is he tangled in the fence?" she asked.

I grabbed the camera and zoomed in. Crap. It was tangled in the fence, thrashing and bleating.

At this moment, a neighbor who had been driving by stopped in our driveway (it might have been her passing vehicle that spooked the animal into the fence). "It's a youngster," she said. "I'll call my son [a strapping teenager] and see if he can help."

But even a youngster elk is not a Close Encounter I was eager to tangle with. These guys are strong, and flailing hooves could easily cause damage to any human rescuers.

Meanwhile the other elk who had crossed the road watched the commotion with concern, and started moving back toward the distressed animal.

The tangled elk continued to thrash.

Thankfully after a few more minutes of fighting, he was able to get free, to the relief of everyone (elk and human alike).

Later the animals parked themselves on a sunny slope and chewed their cud as if nothing had happened.

I went looking for hoof prints in our yard in the afternoon. They're big, I tell ya.

Their trails through the snow are also big, compared to those of deer.

Yep, as far as close encounters, that's about as close an encounter as I want to get.

Hack cough

Sorry for the blog silence, dear readers. Don and I managed to pick up a bout of the flu (yes, just the flu), and we've spent the last few days hacking and coughing and having our very scalps feel sore. On Saturday, I even went to bed at 6 pm (unheard of for me!) and stayed in bed for 12 full hours, having the weirdest collection of fever dreams imaginable.

More when we're back on our feet.

Fire those cannons

You're probably familiar with the magnificent "1812 Overture" by Tchaikovsky.

This long piece of music culminates, of course, with a crash of cannon and ringing of church bells. Understandably for most performances, these are usually played with timpani drums for the cannon and deep chimes for the church bells.

But once in a while – you get the real thing. And when you do ... well, wow. Just wow.

I found a YouTube video showing the tail end of the Overture played by the Boston Pops Orchestra in 2019, where some military personnel are shooting actual cannons at the appropriate place in the music. Want to see how it's done? Watch starting at about the 50-second mark in the video below. Fascinating.

 

For decades, the Boston Pops was led by the legendary Arthur Fiedler. Under his leadership, the orchestra became one of the best-loved and most-recorded orchestras in the world. When I was a kid, we often watched the performances on television, which no doubt helped cement my love for classical music.

Bop it? Twist it?

Almost ten years ago, we transitioned to an all-cash lifestyle. As a result, I seldom use a credit card anymore (except for online purchases). On the rare occasions I use the credit card in a retail environment, I'm baffled by how the durn thing works. Seriously. The technology keeps changing.

So when I saw this, it cracked me up. So true!

Pearl Harbor Day

On December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor was attacked.

A few years ago, my mother (who was born in 1931 on the bayous of Louisiana) shared an extraordinary story as follows:

In the fall of 1941 my mother started making homemade bread every Saturday. She used yeast on the first recipe, but after that she would save a starter, a piece of dough. Of course we had no refrigeration, so she would just take the starter dough and put it in a bowl in the cabinet. The next week she would use the starter dough to make a fresh batch of bread.

My oldest brother had taken off for something, and he came home with a friend. The boy lived about a mile away from our house, but since we lived along a bayou, we had to cross a prairie to get to his house. He walked in the house and the smell of fresh bread permeated the place. He was wowed, and Mamma broke him off a piece of fresh bread for him to eat.

He had gone to school with us, but like a lot of kids his age he joined the Navy at age 17. He told my mother he was stationed at Pearl Harbor on the Arizona.

This took place on Saturday November 22nd. Thirteen days later he died on the Arizona at Pearl Harbor. His name was William (Bill) Stoddard.

My mother stopped making bread. I was ten years old.

Needless to say, Pearl Harbor didn't just affect Hawaii.

It also affected a tiny little community on the bayous of Louisiana, and a 10-year-old child's memory of a neighbor boy who died for our country.

It was a dark moment in history. We're facing more dark moments in the future as international conflicts rise once more. Let's pray another Pearl Harbor doesn't happen.

Comfort food on a cold day

I did something today I haven't done in years: made a batch of English muffins. Actually, a triple batch (because why go through all the work for just a few?).

English muffins are one of Older Daughter's favorite things. Nothing like a little comfort food on a cold winter's day.

I measured the shortening using the displacement method, something I prefer to do with all hydrophobic ingredients.

Milk, shortening, sugar, salt, heat.

Warming to between 120F and 130F, just enough that the shortening starts to melt.

Then I poured the warm liquid into the flour/yeast combo, and mixed it.

Time to add more flour. Before:

After:

Next step: Kneading.

Ready for the first rising.

Since I tripled the recipe, I knew better than to try to let the dough rise in just one bowl. Instead I greased two bowls, and split the dough in half.

Setting it to rise in front of the cookstove.

An hour later, the risen dough was making the towels look pregnant.

Punch down, let rest.

Rolling and cutting. My cutter is a tuna can.

Each one gets brushed with water (both sides) and dipped in corn meal.

I filled the (barely warm) oven with pans of raw English muffins for the second rising, so two overflow pans went on the warming shelf above the woodstove.

The range that came with the house includes a central griddle feature. I'd never used this feature before, but it worked well. English muffins are "baked" by putting them on a griddle and turning them ever few minutes until baked through.

The final tally. Well, not quite. A number somehow disappeared into thin air the moment they came off the griddle, snitched by Certain Parties Who Shall Remain Nameless.

Yep, comfort food on a cold day.

Seasonal photos

The problem I have with the change of seasons is the itch to document everything. That's what happens when you live with a camera in your pocket.

Now that winter is upon us, I've been snapping pictures of the new seasonal beauty around our house. Ready for a bunch of photos? Scroll down.

Red-shafted flicker. These are beautiful birds, but boy do they bear watching. In our last home, they tore holes in the side of the house so severely that we had to have the whole side replaced.

Sparkly grass.

Frosty leaves.

Fallen oak leaves on the snow.

Despite multiple snowfalls-and-melt-offs, the leaves of our nuclear strawberries never did turn color. It's kinda weird to see so much greenery under the snow.

Some pre-dawn color. The whole landscape was bathed in a pink glow.

One of those rare sunset "column" phenomena.

Fog at dusk.

Another fresh snowfall.

That's it so far on the transition between autumn and winter, but I'll keep snapping pictures since, after all, I live with a camera in my pocket.