Mark Steinhoff Archives

June 14, 2014

Family at Kentucky Lake

I was looking for some appropriate Father’s Day photos when I ran across these shots taken at Kentucky Lake. My green Datsun has 1974 Florida tags, so this must have been the summer of 1973. I bought that car in Gastonia, N.C., just a few days before I left for Florida in January of that year. Brother David, whose driver’s license was so fresh the ink hadn’t dried, was drafted to drive it while I piloted a U-Haul holding all our possessions.

The dealership agreed to have someone man the service department on a Saturday to do the initial 600-mile service, so David and I went out to put as many break-in miles as we could. He was a little uncertain about driving a manual transmission, so I told him, “Just get it in high gear and don’t worry about shifting until we need gas.”

Wife Lila buzzed along in her yellow VW Bug herding us like wayward cattle. She did great until we hit West Palm Beach where she turned right off the turnpike instead of left toward civilization. I managed to honk her down before we all ended up as alligator bait.

A trailer for togetherness

The first trailer Dad and Mother had on the lake was tiny. I don’t know how we managed to stuff six of us in there. We must have had to synchronize turning over.

Trying not to smile

Dad had this funny way he’d stick his tongue out when he was trying not to smile. He’s obviously pulling somebody’s leg, probably Wife Lila’s.

He couldn’t hold it forever

Eventually, the smile would bubble over. Mother’s still trying to maintain her composure, though.

A happy couple

We had a lot of happy hours on that lake.

Dad died there of a massive heart attack while he was building a sandbox for Grandson Matthew in 1977. I’m sorry he was taken from us so early, but I’m glad it was there and not in some hospital surrounded by beeping machines.

May 9, 2014

Early Mother’s Day Gift

One of the last things Brother Mark asked me to do before I left Cape was to check out Mother’s hedge trimmer. He said the last time he used it, it gave him a little buzz, and not the good kind. He thought maybe the power cord should be replaced.

I remembered it well: it was probably about as old as I am. It had a metal case and a 12″ blade. Since our house was built long before three-prong plugs were invented, somebody – probably Dad – had broken off the ground prong so you could plug it into a two-prong outlet.

That meant if the trimmer shorted out, YOU were the effective ground, particularly if you were standing in wet grass.

I quietly slipped out and went to the local emporium of tools and toys and bought her a newer version that has a longer blade, more power and was lighter than her old disaster-waiting-to-happen trimmer.

That’s ENOUGH!

Mother isn’t big on change, so I bought a mushy Mother’s Day card and a cute bow (which, observing the Family Frugality Rule, I affixed in such a manner it could be reused) and left it in her spot on the kitchen table while she was sleeping.

To my surprise, she loved it. Loved it so much that nothing green in the yard is safe.

“That’s ENOUGH!” I said. “You’re not going to have anything left but a stump.”

I turned around and saw her attacking a dandelion that had the audacity to stick its head out of the ground. “Wow,” she said, “I can even use this like a weed eater.”

For the record, I did a finger count when I left town. She had ten digits when I pulled out of the driveway. I hope she doesn’t think she can use the hedge trimmer on finger and toenails.

April 27, 2014

Taking Fencing Lessons

Curator Jessica sent me a text bragging about her time in a triathlon Saturday morning. We exchanged a couple of messages, then I texted her, “I’m busy taking fencing lessons, so I will probably be incommunicado.”

Mother has a porch on the east side of the house overlooking a woods that is the perfect place to sit and watch the birds and squirrels. Even on the hottest day, it’s usually shaded and comfortable. A few years back, Brother Mark cleared her a pathway to go from the front yard to the back and to get to her bird feeders and hanging plants.

The surface is a bit uneven and the hill is fairly steep, so we thought we’d put up a handrail to make her meanderings a little safer. Of course, we didn’t really know what we were doing, so don’t look to closely at our handiwork.

Since Mother’s age – 92-1/2 – and her weight are about the same, I don’t think there is much danger of her knocking it over.

The Rule of Threes

I wrote about the Rule of Threes when Kid Matt was building me a new computer. This project was worse that than. In 24 hours, I think I have been at Menard’s four times; Lowes five times and Ace Hardware at least five times. And, of course, when you are in the Big Box hardware stores, fencing materials and gardening supplies are on one side of the world and lumber is on the other.

One of the tasks Mark wanted to tackle was getting Mother’s fountain working again. We confirmed that the pump was getting power, so we deduced we were peering at a kaput pump. That was a trip to Lowes. Then, he wanted to replace a section of plastic hose with copper pipe for aesthetic reasons. That was Lowes and Ace, where he told a young worker that he was Frankensteining it and would welcome inspiration.

We got back to the house, installed the copper pipe, Gooped it in place so it wouldn’t leak, then turned on the juice. The water barely trickled out of the copper pipe. The pump was supposed to be able to handle a six-foot height, but Mark cut off about two feet of pipe to make the distance even shorter. The result wasn’t much better. He started to fill the fountain with a hose to make sure there was plenty of water for it to work with.

Leaking like a nursery school

That’s where the fountain base started leaking like a nursery school short of diapers. Water left in it at the end of the summer must have frozen during the winter and cracked the plastic.

We hit Menards again. The entrance is here, and the garden shop is waaaaaaaay over there at the far end. They didn’t have anything we liked at a price that we liked.

Back to Lowes. The entrance is here, and the garden shop is halfwaaaaaay over there. They didn’t have anything, either. And, of course, we also had to hit lumber at the far end, hardware in the middle and customer service at the entrance.

That’s just a small part of the day. My feet are killing me.

Mark went to bed three hours ago, which is where I’m headed as soon as I hit the Publish button.

Sorry for the iffy quality. I shot these with my cell phone because I didn’t have the strength to pick up a real camera.

April 25, 2014

Dancing in the Trees

Brother Mark and I have been looking at the trees around Mother’s house for some time. There are a lot of dead branches that could cause problems. I cut up a big one that had fallen during the winter, but there were plenty more just waiting to fall on the power line or roof. Here’s a Before shot of a maple tree that was planted when we moved into the house over half a century ago. You can see the dead branches.

I was working in the basement when Mother hollered downstairs that the tree trimmers from the power company were there. To be honest, I expected the hatrackers usually associated with utility company trimmers, and I didn’t expect them to be very flexible.

Florida Power and Light delivered excuses

The power line running along our back property line in Florida had a lot of growth around it since the 2005 hurricane season, so we called Florida Power & Light this winter to see if they could trim it back before hurricane season. (We pay to have a mango tree on the line trimmed by an arborist just to keep it from being hacked up.)

When they showed up, they said that trimming the vegetation was our problem because it wasn’t a main line. “This isn’t our service loop,” I pointed out,” this line feeds every house in this block.” Several weeks went by and I figured we had lost the battle, but some guys with chain saws finally showed up.

Shade Tree Service Company

Much to my pleasant surprise, the guys working for The Shade Tree Service Company out of Fenton were super nice to deal with. They told Mother what they planned to do, assured her they weren’t going to do anything to harm the trees and told her they’d clean up any mess they made. They also had a sticker on the side of the truck that said they were Professional Utility Arborists and members of the National Arborist Association and the International Society of Arborculture.

What was better was that they said they’d trim the dead branches out of the maple tree because they could fall on her service loop if they blew down. When they started cutting, I told them they could leave the larger pieces for me to cut up for firewood. They not only agreed to do that, but they offered to stack it. Since I had to cut into shorter lengths, I said that wouldn’t be necessary.

Artists in buckets

The guys in the buckets were artists of weaving their way between the power, cable and phone cables. After watching them hold chainsaws at arms length and grapple with logs that made a heavy THUNKKK!! when they hit the ground, I decided I wouldn’t challenge any of them to arm wrestle.

A tip of my hard hat to them

It has long been established that lumberjack is not on my list of possible occupations.

Tree trimming photo gallery

Here are random photos of the tree trimming project, including an After shot of the maple tree. They did a nice job. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the sides of the photo or use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.