Windows to Russia
I have been getting ready for Sveta to come to the village and I picked her up late last night at a very busy train station in the Big Village. People everywhere, getting on and getting off the trains. It was good to see my sweetie get here safe…
I have lots to do and Sveta is sleeping, Boza and I need to walk…
Have a nice day…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
They dug up the monastery grounds and removed much of the tunnel system. It was a hazard and needed done, for the young were finding the entrances. That includes me… 🙂 I knew about them years ago, but now after they found the main chamber, they dug it up, removed the items inside, hauled off the brick to the lake dam and refilled the holes and ditches left, with black dirt from the fish farm. All courtesy of the Fish Village Farm…
Three black Mercedes cars roared up the hill, full of monks. Then soon followed a huge Mercedes windowless van, driven by more monks with guns, that was a typical armored van for banks in Russia. After they all left, we the pions, were able to run around and look at the left overs. They tore our road to mush and that happened, because they hauled 50 loads of brick out and 50 loads of dirt back in. The brick became dam filler after the important stuff disappeared in the van… Cool huh?
Oh, if you have not gathered, the Orthodox Church is a very powerful organization in Russia. If anyone benefited from the fall of the Soviet Union, the Orthodox Church did. Just a tidbit of info to let you contemplate reality for a few minutes…
Yesterday was a very profitable day for the Orthodox and Pará Lake, the fish farm…
An interesting thing coming out as they dig around the bell tower, the base of the tower is deep in the ground and yesterday they discovered that there is, as I said years ago, at least two levels below the surface of the bell tower. They really thought that they could easily uncover the foundation and have since found out that only the wall sections are shallow at around two meters deep. The buildings are deep, deeper than comprehension, but since the bell tower does not have stress cracks from settling and we are on nothing but old sand dunes. It makes sense to me that they had to go deep, really deep and set many pilings to support this huge building. You do not just toss a brick monolith upon an old sand dune and hope it stays in one piece. The lower levels are just normal for the course, when you build a tower like this…
They also found that when they removed about a meter of soil in front of the bell tower, they found a massive ceiling to the lower levels of brick. This has put a change of plans in to place, for it is unknown at this point how far away from the tower does all this brick go?
It is amazing to think about construction of a tower like this back in 1906 and in the middle of nowhere, by hand, horse and cart. It really is a masterpiece of construction and I wonder if we are even capable in this day and age of do such detailed strong work. It makes me wonder, what has happened to us in this world?
Best shallow spot of the brick level buried under ground. I found four unearthed spots, one spot as far as 25 meters from the tower. Another piece of the puzzle…
There are things that only the dead know about, but if the living takes its time, we will discover all that there is to discover in this holy of holiest villages. Just wait until they find the Saints burial spots!
Female Saints, buried here in the past, are crying, desiring unearthed status and respected, all within this tiny village…
Have a nice day…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
Now I understand the connections that Vova has. I knew he had friends everywhere, but how high I did not know. I have a friend now up high and it is someone I met a few years ago. I guess you need to read this article first; (http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-1.html)
Errrr, well actually you need to read all these, but the first one will give you the main idea…
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-2.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-3.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-4.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-5.html
and last but not least…
http://windowstorussia.com/american-spy-in-russia-now-my-experience-this-last-week-makes-sense.html
I guess you can see that I became absorbed for a few days in what happened to me at the time…
Okay now that the ground work is laid, lets talk about today…
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Vova called me to come up to his home. I did not feel like it, but a friend of Vova’s from a few weeks ago, ran down and grabbed me. He insisted and he wanted me to meet his son. (Now I will leave names out, you will understand in a little bit.) Vova’s friend is very proud of his son and talked about him the first time I met him a few weeks ago. Well I sat down and then as this man turned to me and introduced himself, the past slid back in place. We both registered immediately as to our last encounter and shook hands under a more opportune moment…
I just sat for hours while an FSB played guitar, his father sang Russian songs and Vova (he called Vova, Uncle) danced as he played the spoons. Then he played American songs, which his father just loves and they were the happiest Russians in the whole wide world, for I knew the words to these songs…
Finally they got tired and all wanted naps. Russians seem to always, at least in the village, sleep in the afternoon. It is siesta time, like in Mexico and Vova calls it just that, “siesta!”
I had my hand shook again and was told if problems tell Vova and he would tell his family. Then if able, things would be worked out…
I walked away, shaking my head in disbelief, for what a small world it really is and you never know who you will meet and rub shoulders with. Sometimes we meet turmoil and other times we meet harmony…
* * * * * * * * * *
Well, what did I talk about yesterday?
Fish; and now I have more fish than I know what to do with…
One of the managers of the fish farm came by and handed me a sack of fish. Five fish to be exact, so I spent the time and cleaned them and froze them. This time I was smart, I froze them individually in food bags…
I am going to save them for Sveta, she loves fish and I know how to cook it perfect for her… 🙂
I say, “Money poor, but fish rich!”
It is a fish farm; you know?
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The monastery is busy, it is Apple Orthodox Holiday and people are everywhere. I was told not to work, but since it is a holiday, the church has three backhoes, three dump trucks and a bulldozer tearing up the village. At least it seems that way and sounds that way…
And they found the gold!
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It looks like I have found my home, not a house, not a place to live, but a home of where the heart is. It looks like I have found a place that accepts me as me and does not try to alter me. It looks like I found home and I realized such; when those empty places in my heart were filled, by Sveta and the Russian Village…
Strange, for sometimes home and love is on the other side of the world…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
PS: I was told something that is weighing on my mind and from the source, means that reality is exactly what I thought it was. I have to sleep on it and think for a few days…
Looks like my experiment yesterday failed. I tried to post a video by a normal method and at first it worked, then quit. Now I can not get it to work, so, I will start over again and revamp what I am doing. It seems that I will have to install a better system to play videos on the site, for we just had an update and that seems to have destroyed / removed some internal files that use to work and now do not. Just the story of my life…
Restart time for learning Russian…
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Yesterday Boza had a wonderful meal, in fact so wonderful, he ran away to the far side of the yard and hid as he ate his fish head. He did not want me to even think about getting or sharing that fish head. Boza is becoming a real village dog and eating a fish head was not high on his list a few months ago. Now though, he has acquired a taste for fresh fish heads and watches very closely as I clean fish which I do weekly in this village…
The big fish is frozen after being cleaned, it is going to wait for when Sveta decides to come. She loves village fish and that particular fish head is the one Boza was eating yesterday. I learned to clean carp many years ago as kid, my grandma taught me the best way to clean them and these carp are farm fish so they really have no issues with mud veins and such…
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Vova is still in love and has in mind to move in with his new gal, we will see, Vova was in the Big Village yesterday while I was shopping there and he was buying real whiskey, like Crown Royal type whiskey, he had a date with his gal… 🙂 She has high tastes… 🙁
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I am only going to say this one time and then because I get fish free for now, I will contemplate such treatment of the locals in silence, as I decide what to do about the situation. I am sure, I will be treated as such by next year, for everyday, I am more local and less outsider…
The fish farm has taken to setting up a system to force everyone to buy fish from the office at the Fish Village. You must go get a receipt to get fish. Ant-corruption measures to the max, the type that do not work and only hurt the little people. The smallest amount that you can buy is 4 kilo (660 rubles for a pensioner is tough on the budget,) but they are generous by going way over that when that is what you buy and you are a local. Like maybe 6 kilo instead of exactly 4 kilo. The issue is not that part, but the issue is that they are charging over twice what the locals could get fish for and now it puts out of reach buying fish as a supplement to the diet…
At first I was trying to figure out why villagers were sneaking around and fishing for food. After yesterday, I realize that with what the Fish Village has done, is to create a black market for fish, their fish, to be exact…
I definitely see both sides to the issue and believe you me, villagers will not pay full price for the fish. They live here and are a close-knit part of the running of this fish farm. You do not treat locals like city people, for the locals will make or break you…
With that said; the big fish you see above, was given to me free and I never ask for fish, never. Oh well, life goes on and we all do what we do. Just the perks of being an American…
Just to show you the size difference a few months make, the same wash bowl, 24 fish the first time I got fish, one fish the last time. Would never get 24 of these monsters in the bowl this time… 🙂
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Sveta called me and told me that I can not, like in better not, like in struck by lightning not, work today. It is a major Orthodox holiday and work is forbidden and as I have said in the past, “Who am I to argue with such logic?”
Being in a monastery village does has its benefits…
Therefore, since I need to quit working, I am going to stop writing this article and go enjoy life. Boza and I have cats to chase, fish to clean, villagers to talk to, dreams to enact, walks to traipse and pictures to take…
Have a nice day…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
Today lets learn to say goodbye in Russia…
Just click the video and you will find a pleasant young lady telling you how to tell everyone goodbye in Russian. It is not hard and is a very usable word if you ever come to Russia and in fact, I am going to be posting these videos to help everyone, including me; to learn some basic Russian…
До свидания: Dohsveedahneeyah
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
In an old shed, at an empty village home, we have a home-made plow. Made by hand, pulled by a donkey or horse and to plow the earth to grow food. The shack being lived in by vagrants in the recent past and ransacked for anything of value to people who drink and do drugs, is a mess. The main home is still solid and has been empty for many years now. It is sad that when the heart of a home dies, family seems to disappear and go their own way…
The vagrants did not see the plow as important, nor the new wooden arms, not finished parts to the plow; back wall right side of photos. There are treasures all over the place, or I should say treasures to me, such as saws, ladders, metal for welding repair and etc, etc, etc…
I am going to see if I can get this plow. I want to take it apart and rebuild it. I want to learn and try to understand what makes it strong and work. I know who knows about this plow and he lives in the Yellow Home part-time…
I am going to go back and take a bunch of images of it at all angles. I need to learn to do work like this and then find someone to pass it on to. We all need to learn how to build and create…
With this device (with a horse, pony, cow, donkey, mule or a jackass,) I can plow a field, I can plant a crop and we (Sveta and I) can eat food; then maybe if you are nice, I could feed you also…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
No. I’m Not Going to the Reeducation Camp
by John Stanton
“…if you sit around and wait for the one who is in power to make up his mind that he should end it, you’ll be waiting a long time. And in my opinion the young generation of whites, blacks, browns, and whatever else there is, your are living in a time when there has to be a change…a better world needs to be built…And I will join in with anyone, I don’t what color he is, as long as he wants to change the miserable condition that exists on this earth.” Malcolm X at Oxford, 1964
“Out here in the fields. I fight for my meals. I get my back into my living. I don’t need to fight to prove I’m right, I don’t need to be forgiven.” Baba O’Reilly, The Who , 1971
“And then they would have to determine how to build their suburbs on something other than human bones, how to angle their jails toward something other than a human stockyard, how to erect a democracy independent of cannibalism. I would like to tell you that such a day approaches when the people who believe themselves to be white renounce this demon religion and begin to think of themselves as human.” Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates, 2015
When did my genes and “I” become guilty of thinking that they were white?
According to genetic testing results I am part of the Haplogroup R1; specifically, R1a1. Information accompanying the test results indicated that “I”, or the group my genes belong to, “appears to have arisen in the Near East or present-day Pakistan during the peak of the Ice Age about 18,000 years ago. Until the Ice Age began to wane about 15,000 years ago, it may have been limited to the area around the Black Sea, a region that remained relatively ice-free and hospitable while much of Eurasia was covered by glaciers and tundra.”
Then events transpired so that my genes “decided” they would become “white” and privileged some 12,000 years ago. “R1 is the dominant Haplogroup in Europe today, accounting for well over half of all men. After being confined to the continent’s southern fringes during the Ice Age, it expanded rapidly in the wake of the receding glaciers about 12,000 years ago. Various branches of R1 also trace the many migrations that have shaped Europe since then, from the arrival of farmers between about 10,000 and 7,000 years ago to the movements of ethnic groups such as the Anglo-Saxons and Vikings.”
Neanderthal Man
I also now know that 3.0% of my DNA comes from the Neanderthal line. I know, too, that “my” son’s mother’s genes traveled, from what is now called Africa, the opposite direction from my genes, through what is now known as Asia, to what is now the West Coast of North America and, hugging the coast, made their way to Northern Brazil to the mouth of what we now call the Amazon River. Those genes which became known as Amazonian Indian merged with genes from a pool of genes from Portugal. My son’s genes will likely merge with those of his wife from what we now call Trinidad by way of what is now known as India and from wherever those genes originated from.
None of this was planned.
And none of this makes any difference to those from the many bands of the human spectrum who make sure to label me White and Middle Class, just as those from other parts of the spectrum chose to tag others as Black, Asian, Pacific Islander and Latino belonging to Upper, Middle and Lower classes.
In the book Between the World and Me, Coates, I think—though I may be wrong—is saying, in part, that the Species has to stop thinking it is a color, or maybe even a class, but that one must know his/her history. This made me wonder why is it that when many describe the supreme quality of a person they tend to pause and say “human being” and not the tired old clichés belonging to leadership texts? Is this what Coates means when he says “think of themselves as human”? Or is he saying that being White is to be inherently evil? Or is it that Capitalism, the American Myth, and Whiteness fused into one monstrous American Democracy, with Western European origins, is destroying us all? Yet Coates seems to find solace and a sort of contradictory peace in a bastion of Western European culture now known as Paris, France.
I know my skin color is White and what that means in the most dominant economic, military and cultural power in the United States of America where roughly 17 percent are Hispanic, 12 percent Black, 4 percent Asian, 1 percent Native Americans, and 65 percent White. I do not know what it is like to be anyone else and I would not want to be like anyone else with any other history other than my own and those of my genes.
I know the history of the genocide, slavery and the rape and pillage of Blacks in Africa and America, and the destruction of the Native Peoples in North, Central and South America. I know, generally, of the ancient wars of the Pharaoh’s, the Romans, the Muslims and the Greeks and the wanton slaughter and savaging of women and children in those times. I know that the slaves of the ancients were described by Varro as “speaking tools.” That belief persisted in the United States for most of the country’s history. I know the history of the Jewish Holocaust, the Killing Fields of Cambodia, the Rape of Nanking, Stalin and Mao’s purges and executions, the human sacrifices of the Inca’s, the public hangings of Blacks in America’s South, the millions killed by the Belgians, and so on. I have seen what was once a human rendered into pieces.
How should I apply this knowledge?
Is it the System?
Should I attribute the sins of the world to Whiteness? Or should I conclude that the Species itself and the dominant economic and ruling methodology of Capitalism combine to make the “demon” that Coates refers to and the “system” that Malcolm X wants us all to change: That American system, born largely of the British, Roman and Greek Systems, that relies on absurd contradictions and irony. A system that makes those from NWA and Straight Out of Compton, with all the female bashing lyrics, now part of the One Percent elite of corporate America; or the principals of the George W. Bush Administration clearly guilty of war crimes still cashing in on public office; or the poor and largely Black people that can’t make $500 bail and waste away in jail; or the White miners in West Virginia killed because the mining company ignored safety rules and is found not guilty of negligence on a legal technicality; or the citizens of Detroit City denied, by a lone judge, the right to clean drinking water. And what should I make of an American society that does not care about corporate surveillance (for profit) and government monitoring of all forms of communication (to maintain security and stability for the corporations to make profits)? Where were the White Rockers, Black Rappers, and Country Music stars when the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan raged on or the beach head for the corporate and government’s invasion of privacy was the home?
They, all of them, were co-opted by a political, economic and cultural system we deny every day but in which we also live, procreate, operate and profit. With all of our complaints, we don’t have a functional alternative to offer. The ballot-box provides no remedy. Presidential and Congressional elections are polluted by money and interests, foreign and domestic, over which voters have no control. Politicians are bought and sold like horses prior to a race. It took a 2016 Republican presidential candidate in Donald Trump, who regularly buys and sells politicians, to acknowledge this fact. The corporate and government elite was shocked and aghast that one of their own would, well, expose Coates’ “demon” so openly.
With the extremes of the American Identity Culture, social media, ubiquitous voice and audio recording, surveillance video weaving their way into all facets of American life, speech has become an action to be exercised with caution. It is an interesting coincidence that this comes on the heels of Edward Snowden’s revelations of the extent of corporate and government collaboration on tracking the intimate details and movements of Americans. A poster should be made that reads, “You are to be seen but not heard and you are to speak only when spoken to. Measure your thoughts before releasing them for the record.”
Fragmented, Tribal Nation
America continues its push to a more perfect Panopticon. The Atlantic Magazine reports that “A movement is arising, undirected and driven largely by students, to scrub campuses clean of words, ideas, and subjects that might cause discomfort or give offense.” The World Socialists point to the dropping of Democratic Party fundraisers known formerly as Jefferson-Jackso
Where is American society/culture going with all this? It is certain that in this most Capitalist of societies, there will be commodification and cash to be made in the Identity Industry. The corporations have been target marketing for some time now to Blacks, Whites, Asians, Mixed, and LGBT: Fragmented markets for a fragmented nation: Just so.
Perhaps Identity Papers complete with genetic testing results are in order, or maybe public self-flagellatio
Safe Spaces carried to far turn the confines of the home into that space in which people communicate with society only via the Internet and with a false identity. Nearly two million American children are being home schooled and that trend is increasing. Between corporate privatization and parental frustration with traditional 19th Century based K-12 learning modes—in both public and private schools—home schooling is on the rise.
With the religion of the mythic Judeo-Christian Gods demolished, the religion of the secular and its human gods is ascendant. Watching or reading the bombastic media and its featured commentators and guests brings the feeling of sitting in a Catholic confessional booth. “Bless me Father for I have sinned somehow and if I did not consciously sin then one of my ancestors, or my genes, did, and, in the future might.”
Who will be the judges and guides in this new America that aims to be classless and colorless, and aims to reeducate all of America? It would be an extraordinary day when all Americans think that they are of no color or class, just a collection of histories and genes assembled into one United States. I’m all for it. But the history of the Species speaks against the successful implementation of a such a blank slate society.
I don’t think I’m White. I think I am a human being. I don’t know what it is like to be rich and in the top 20 percent of money makers in the USA. I know that I’m color-labeled as White and class-labeled as Middle by the identity and false consciousness hunters that roam the American landscape.
I know I agree with Dave Chappelle, famed comedian with $10 million in the bank, who is labeled as Black and Wealthy. But I’m not a smart guy and I think that he is a human being and really funny guy with great observations of the human condition. I think that way of George Carlin, Chris Rock and the late Robin Williams. According to Chappelle “I support anyone’s right to be who they want to be. My question is: To what extent do I have to participate in your self-image?’
Nope, “I” don’t need to be forgiven and neither do my 18,000 year old genes.
John Stanton is a Virginia based writer. Reach him at captainkong22@gm
I call it writers paradise…
Nothing is better than and old desk, in a small cabin and in the middle of nowhere. It is just amazing that I have solid internet here, with fast speeds. Otherwise I could still write, but have to travel to town to upload. That would be okay also…
The desk (the village home exactly) seems lost in time, for it would look better with an old typewriter sitting on it, extra paper sitting in the corner and a cup of coffee to help pound the keys, as you write what your heart desires. But, I think the blending of eras is kinda quaint and it has grown on me as being pertinent…
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The fish in our lake are getting big. They feed the fish five times a day now and it takes four boat loads of fish food to feed the lake, so it seems to me, as I am sure to them, that they do nothing but feed fish. The fish are huge and I suspect that within a few weeks, they will harvest this pond and drain it…
I will post an article with detailed images about their process, I have a tripod and camera that can get up -n- close this year and we will see the harvesting of fish…
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Well according to Sveta, we had the Orthodox Honey Holiday on the 14th of August and I remember that everyone harvested honey. Remember, I told you all about Vova and gathering honey?
It is that time of the year…
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The hunters are gone for the week. I told you yesterday that the hunters here are like most in America, weekend warriors. They come for the weekend, get drunk and kill what ever gets in their way. I lived in a farm world, where we had to protect our cows from “city slicker” deer hunters, for if you did not, you would lose a cow, because a cow looks so much like a deer! Yup…
Next weekend will be the last duck culling and then the ducks are safe for another year. Sad thing is that they do not kill the ducks for food, just sport and poor sport at that. I was taught to hunt and kill only what you will eat. Never more…
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I have to say something about Sveta; Sveta has been pushed to do things that she never has done. She is a typical city person and has had many things handed on a platter to her or close to such a platter that could be in this world here. I spent years doing many things for her and she gathered such things as needed for normal life. Such as changing light bulbs, fixing your bike, installing new things in the house and many other such things, that to me are trivial, but to her were almost impossible…
I have still been there for her by phone and talking her through how to do things, but she is basically on her own and she has had to do somethings that she has never done before. I am proud of her and I mean very proud of her; Sveta has bought a bike and she is installing accessories that she deems necessary. She has installed a mirror and a bike computer. Then she told me, with me able to hear the happiness in her voice, “I even used a screwdriver!”
We live in a world that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses; Sveta is trying to learn and become independent and I support her in that 100%, for I will not be here forever, in fact I understand that I am living on borrowed time and every second and ever day is precious and a blessing for me…
Coming to the village was multifaceted for me; I can survive with nothing and be happy, but most in this world can not. I needed to hone my internal skills and gather my soul back to its roots. This has happened, but I also have seen Sveta, who needs to grow and develop internally and externally, do just that. She needed to become independent, yet still able to be a partner. Partners have to compliment each other and that is a good way to look at Sveta and I…
I am proud of Sveta and the statement, “I even used a screwdriver!” Means even if I (Kyle) die tomorrow, I have accomplished something very important and Sveta is “that” very important!
Have a nice day…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
Long underwear, heavy socks, long sleeve shirts, coats and hats are necessary now. Last night hit 9 degrees Celsius and in another day, it will be 12 degrees during the day. This is perfect weather and Boza and I love it…
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All hunters are out in full force this morning, but either they killed all the ducks (No, still a bunch left,) or as our famous “Gay Duck” is doing, hiding in the reeds. He went through this last year and knows to stay low and safe. Looks like he taught his friends to do the same, for this morning I heard a bunch of them making very low level quacking noises in the cattails and such. No practice flying for the next week or so. The hunters will basically be done by next weekend on Sunday. They are mainly weekend warriors…
I wonder if we can weaponize the ducks as they could be classified as rebels and maybe we can arm them to fight back? Just a thought…
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I have been looking for the perfect wood finish. Most finishes, unless you use oils, will scratch off of a finely sanded wood project as you use it. Then you leave a light colored spot. Now I realize that there is good finishes to penetrate and solve most of that issue, but expense is a problem for me. Money does not grow on trees and priorities have to be set. So what ever I do to finish wood products that I have worked on, needs to be reasonable in price to do and kept in a jar with a lid to use until all gone…
I created such a finish…
First off I discovered the idea of using coffee and teas as wood stains. I worked on that and perfected how to mix and apply just right, coffee and tea solutions. It stains beautifully and you are able to have degrees of stain ability from light to dark, all according to your desires…
The cane on the left is a medium height waking cane. More length than a standard cane, but not a staff or walking stick. It is a left handed version only. I was surprised by that, but after looking at it, I should not be, for the bends are conductive of that hand usage…
Now coffee alone just does not do the job. There needs to be something to deepen the depth of staining and lasting ability of the color. I grew up with a grandma who made everything herself. I knew about oil and vinegar to redo wood floors with and it works, just plain works. I myself use to care for my wood floors with vegetable oil and vinegar and the results were always amazing. Now if you have poly floors and other synthetic such finishes, this will not do the job, but real oiled and finished floors, this is the key…
Therefore after studying the internet for several days and seeing coffee as a stain and even tea as a stain for wood of all types, in variant degrees, nothing about mixing coffee, oil and vinegar. Oil and vinegar many such cases of doing that, but with coffee, No!
I stain the cane above with coffee three times. Then I took the coffee and experimented. I use one part coffee (Strong as an ox version!,) one part 10% vinegar and one part oil. I lid the jar and shake real good. Then shake as using it and dip a rag and just wipe the wood down. I let dry for a few minutes and then with a clean towel, rub it down. Rub hard and let sit for 10 minutes in the shade. Then reapply three times more. The final application, just allow to dry completely and then later, buff as hard as you can with a clean cloth…
The vinegar makes the oil penetrate and yet dry properly, the coffee adds more stain and is not necessary if you stain with coffee alone, I wanted a darker cane…
So, soak wood with coffee, until as dark as you like, then apply vinegar and oil, that will seal the color and allow a slight satin effect to the wood once buffed. The resultant effect is a none slippery dark colored wood and it smells just like coffee only, for once the vinegar drys the odor of vinegar goes away…
Now coffee will not penetrate some woods as well, thus if you use the mixture I said above, the vinegar helps the coffee to penetrate and the oil also. Then as it drys, the color is left behind, with a oil that has been preserved by the vinegar…
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Well I am going to stick with Windows 10, it is no more intrusive than Windows XP through Windows 8.1 and contrary to the “Doom Sayers,” all Windows products phone home. Either get use to it or learn how to turn it all off and block everything with a better firewall, than what Windows uses…
It is fast and after I tamed it, it is good. The only thing that amazes me is that I have already had over two gigs of updates to install. This is just amazing, a brand new operating system and the updates are literally non-stop. Makes no sense, but then it is Windows, so I guess it does make sense…
Well it is time to get moving, it is now 7:30 a.m. and I have things to do. Have a nice day…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…
As in my first article above in the link. I pickled beets and some carrots. According to my grandma’s old recipe, they could be eaten on Sunday and only get better from there on out. Well?
They are so good…
I am forcing myself to only eat 6 chunks of beets and two chunks of carrots. I truly want to eat all 8 liters, but would not survive if I did. Between too much sugar and vinegar, I would be done in, but well preserved… 🙂
Purple mouth and fingers; Ooh Ya Yummy…
Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…