There's a Tree in my Living Room

There it is.  The Fredlund Family Christmas Tree, V31.0

Odd tradition, killing a tree and covering it with lights and ornamentation.  What would people think if you hacked down a shrubbery in June and dragged it inside?  But we don't have to worry about such things, because we get a pass on our crazy behavior due to tradition.   Good thing.

One often sees lovely stylistic trees, all decorated according to a theme.  Ours is not one of those.  It is more of a free association tree with a heavy dose of family history.  Because the sheer number of ornaments we stash for potential display, it is impossible to get them all onto the branches.  Tastes and interests change, so our tree looks quite a bit different every year.

Gabriel?

We're big on angels.  We've got lots of them.  

I believe you can see an angel from every angle.

A fine gathering of angels at the top of the tree.
The musically-winged one presides over the preschool-generated
self portraits from the time when our kids were little angels.
Have the halos gone missing?

A cute little one.

We got this one from the Hallmark Company of Kansas City, Missouri.  We have procured a significant number of our ornaments from that fine producer of heartstring tuggers.  We've done our part to keep my friend Wes employed, and to keep those annuity checks rolling in for John.  

You don't have to thank us...we're just doing our part.  Or maybe you could send us some BBQ sometime...it's just not the same here.

Another Hallmark creation.
Santa rotates around inside the ornament, powered via a plug substituting for a light.
I wonder if the patent for the plug is still in force.

One of my favorites, this ornament reminds me of
the little blue car I had as a boy.

And still have!
Thanks to my kids for getting me a new airplane hood ornament.

And I suppose this really isn't all that much different,
although I don't have to pedal quite as hard.
But the MG could use an airplane hood ornament.

Here is the "Kids on Santa's Lap" ornament.
My out of focus photography provides a nostalgic touch,
don't you think?

We're also big on soccer ornaments.
Soccer Santa must have been the victim of a hard tackle.
He's losing control of the ball.

The photo of our dog is appropriately placed next to an angel.
She was a sweet soul.

Another historical marker above the festive tree skirt.
Skirt not kilt, so I'm guessing it's a female tree.

Icicle Santa, not some Hobbit nonsense.

 

Bobby, not Robert.

We picked up our English Bobby ornament in London when Bob and Coleen and their kids graciously invited us to stay with them.   Our luggage was lost, so we went to a department store to get some pants for our son.  While shopping, the clerks insisted that we take our daughter to "The Grotto," so she could see Father Christmas.

"So," said the jolly fat man, "you're here all the way from America. Tell me, little girl, what would you like for Christmas?"

"My luggage," deadpanned Kate.

"Oh, how awful," he replied.  "Air Canada?"  I had to smile at the correct insight.  Maybe he does know who's been naughty.

Pretty good coverage.

I accidentally discovered the secret to successful light stringing a few years ago.  The non-uniform distribution of not-quite-enough lights made me go to desperate measures.  I took the partially functional icicle lights I had removed from the house and stuffed them into the center of the tree.  Even without great care in placement, the central glow augmented the exterior illumination and distracted attention from my errors, eliminating further tedious fussing with light placement.  

Since then, I've started the process with strings of partially functional lights near the trunk.  

Another angel, made long ago by one of our kids.

The bird on purple, also made by one of the kids. 

I got the birdhouse ornament for Mary in 1995 and hid it away really well so she wouldn't find it.
I finally found where I put it in 1998, when I went to hide something else nearby.

And even though this illustration does not adorn the tree,
Our decorations would not be complete without a juvenile rendition of Santa.
Yes, I drew it...you can guess when.

Bankruptcy

Contrary to all the public statements I've made up to this moment, it has become apparent that is it time for my family to file for bankruptcy.  Not the garden variety personal kind. No, that's not for us.  We've decided to take advantage of the benefits of Chapter 11, Reorganization Under the Bankruptcy Code.  That's right...Corporate Bankruptcy.

As the CEO of my family, I've kept us on a path of certain financial ruin for many years.  We only bring in so much, and it has been obvious to everyone but me that I've overspent my means and more.    Against our best efforts, factors beyond our control have continued to negatively impact the family's liquidity position.  Oh well, it is what it is, right?  Pretty much unavoidable.  Market conditions have changed, and we were just unable to change our way of life quickly enough, though we tried valiantly.

I know this is a blow to all the family members and everyone who knows us, but with your support and the help of the United States Bankruptcy Court, Western District of New York, we'll get through this and soon be in the pink again.  And maybe even in the black.

We are constructing a plan that will ensure the future health of the family, and expect to emerge from bankruptcy very quickly.  We are taking a significant step toward enabling our enterprise to complete its transformation to become a better family.  But this difficult time will be painful for many.  

I'm afraid we'll have to make some changes.  In particular, all of you to whom I owe money are out of luck.  Sorry, I really wanted to pay you, but there just wasn't enough to go around.


Those of you to whom I've loaned stuff, please give it back right away.  I need it.  Regardless of the fact that I might also owe you money, I need my stuff back.  It's part of the whole bankruptcy thing.  Complicated.  And don't worry.  YOU'll be paid.  Eventually.

Those of you who have loaned me money in the past and also have legal documents that say, "I'll give you my stuff if I can't pay you back," let's talk.  That stuff isn't really worth what you think it is, so you'd be better off letting me keep it and paying you back some other way.  Perhaps I can give you a few of these blogs and we'll call it even.  Good idea, eh?

And for those of you who contributed to my projects with the hope that I might do well for both me and you, well...tomorrow's another day, and don't let the sun catch you crying.


Another painful aspect of this process is reflected in the fact that we have had no choice but to terminate the services of our children.  Kids, please don't take personally the fact that you have been impacted.  I know you'll understand that the legacy costs of maintaining your wellbeing and any potential inheritance just became untenable.  As a reflection of how much I care for you, an outplacement service has been retained.  I'm sure you'll find that there is life after this family.

For standing by me, and to encourage her to continue to do so, I am announcing that my lovely wife will be receiving a retention bonus, paid out of funds that would otherwise have gone to our creditors.

My trusted advisors who never mentioned that I was on the road to ruin are to be rewarded for their loyalty.  They'll be paid from sale of all the stuff I get back.  A long series of wonderful dinners at fine restaurants will be scheduled.


Though it pains me deeply, from now on, all my travel will be on public transportation.  The private car will be sold, and I will ride coach.  I may just stay home, or perhaps bum rides from my handsomely rewarded loyal advisors.  

And as a final reaction to our new reality, we will be switching from Charmin to generic single ply toilet paper.  At least for our guests.

I know this is a shock to all of us, but with continued good efforts and the help of the Bankruptcy Court, I'm sure that we will emerge from this to become a stronger and more competitive family.  That I stay at the helm even though I am the one who drove us into this iceberg is completely irrelevant.  My experience and knowledge of the workings of this family will serve us well to insure a better future...particularly since I expect performance bonuses as I guide us out of these dark days. 

I look forward to the day when this family is revitalized by our transformation and restructured to become a formidable unit... leaner, with a healthy capital structure, a strong balance sheet, and positioned for a successful future.

Thank you.

--- Randy

More reasons for spending time in the Adirondacks

Bob and I paddled across the stream that runs by the dock.  Our intent was to circumnavigate (clockwise!) the big swamp about a half mile away.  There is a feature that looks man-made running across the width of the swamp, but no trail to get there.  We'd both seen this unnatural anomaly on the satellite view in Google Maps, and wanted to know what it was.  

But first, we took a short bushwhack over the hill to hit the snowmobile trail that runs along the north edge.  What's a bushwhack, you ask?  That's a hike with no trail.  You, your compass or GPS or dead reckoning, and your legs.  I advise wearing long pants, no matter what the weather.  

The last time I was on the snowmobile trail, it was a wreck.  The 4-wheelers had turned it into muddy hole after muddier hole.  It was ugly and not fun to walk on.  But the DEC must have done something to let them know they were not welcome, because the trail had mostly healed, and walking it was a pleasure.  We soon came around the east end of the swamp and up the little rise that leads to a pretty little meadow.

I saw a bear out there once.

Very peaceful place.

Years ago, my next door neighbor Pete told me that there was once a town in this vicinity.  "Be careful you don't fall into an old well," he cautioned.  I had searched several times for the remains, but even though my imagination could easily place buildings on the grassy high ground overlooking the meadow, I found little evidence of a town.  "There's a huge old boiler there," he said.  You can't miss it!"  Maybe Pete thinks too highly of me.

Bob and I had walked out into the meadow for a better look, and then decided to make a bee line for the feature we wanted to explore.   After consulting his GPS, we set out on a course that ran straight toward the mysterious feature of the internet.  Bob stumbled across a couple of small gauge rails buried in the weeds.  Soon after, I found a wheel mostly buried in the soil.

Rail wheel from long ago.

Bricks under the grass next to my hiking pole.
Yes, the poles really save a lot of pain for old hikers.

Our tack continued into the small gully formed by the stream flowing out of the meadow.  There, under the sumacs, was the boiler.  Just as Pete had indicated, it was huge.  It looked a lot like a locomotive without anything attached to make it motive.  A locostationary?

Has not moved in a long, long time.

Bob giving the boiler scale.

120 years ago, nearly the entire Adirondack region was clear cut.  The logging companies cut down every tree they could lay their saws on.  It is likely that this boiler was used to power the saws that cut the logs into planks, since there was no appreciable waterway nearby to float the logs to a sawmill downstream.  The small gauge railway was probably used to move the boiler in, and possibly also to move the sawn wood out.  

Why it was left behind is a mystery.  Perhaps it was no longer functional, and the value of a few tons of scrap metal was not enough to move the miles to claim the prize.  But now it's yours, if you want to drag it out...

Minimum flow, maximum beauty.

We did manage to get a view of the feature we had seen on the computer.
Kind of a letdown.  
It may have been a dam at one point, 
but beaver engineering downstream put the whole area underwater.

Bob heads up the hill away from the swamp.

Next stop was a pretty little unnamed pond.
As we came down into its watershed, 
you could see that this rock was surrounded by water.

Looking out across the marsh.
Late September is a great time to hike.
In the summer, the deerflies and mosquitos would have carried us away.

Bob is plotting our next move.

Little white flowers dotted the meadow.

A hardy hippie dandelion?

We followed the deer path that skirted the pond.

Fine accommodations for oversized rodents.

And they put on a nice show on the far side of the little pond.

The three of them were happy to play as we watched, a comfortable distance away.

Usually, when I have seen beavers, I catch a glimpse and then they're gone.  These guys were happy to go about their business as we watched.  We got tired of observing before they were done.  There is no trail near this pond, so maybe we were so foreign to them, they didn't know that humans are bad news.  

And I can only describe their business as playing.  Swimming this way and that, separating and coming back together.  Splashing for no apparent purpose.  

They treated us to a not-quite-synchronized swim.  

Compared to much of the country, it's wet here in the East,
even when it's dry.  I had not rained in weeks.
Back on the trail, we were glad to use the boardwalk.

But even though we made it back to the trail, we had to contend with obstacles.
The beavers had put their dam right atop the trail, and also built another downstream,
making the usual route out of the question.

So we cautiously crossed the top of the dam.

Industrious.

I'm really glad they like wood, not flesh.

Fine "mouthiwork."

Looking back, the trail marker on the tree was ludicrous.

One last glimpse of the swamp on the trail back.

We trekked upwards of 8 miles, and slept well that night.

But wait, there's more !!!

What's that in the water?

Chippy Swimmer!
I had no idea they swam.  And relative to his size,
this was the chipmunk equivalent of a human swimming the English Channel !

Did I mention the fall colors?

My next door neighbor Pete finally put his canoe in the water!
Oh,  never mind...it's the reflection.

From my dock.

A mile and a half upstream, looking toward Kane Mountain and Camelhump.

And the parting view from the human dam downstream.