The Muse

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

I Wouldn't Call This Navigable



Imagine you live in Oregon. You have a stream running through your property, ah a nice stream, a small stream, perhaps, it dries up in the summer. No matter, if that stream was navigable in 1859 you do not own that stream, no dredging, building ponds, or altering in any way.

Hold on, I have reason for telling you this.

Navigable means by whatever mode of transportation they used in 1859, floating logs downstream—a common practice then, a canoe? It’s navigable. Perhaps it was used only seasonally. No matter. Perhaps now it is now a mud flat. No matter. You own only up to the high-water-mark.


I wonder if this was ever navigable.




In Oregon navigable water is owned and controlled by the state—same as it was for the original 13 states.

I learned this fascinating fact on my first day toward becoming a Real Estate Agent.

Yes, that’s the next order of things. Both daughter and I decided to go into this business together. Now whoever hires us will get two agents for the price of one. And we will work our butts off. 

Well, I have 150 hours of study ahead minus 39 minutes, 23 seconds, guess I better study.

I have to mention this, on my blog, The 90 day millionaire challenge, May 10, 2014, I suggested we follow Daughter Dear’s suggestion and write down one business plan a day for 30 days.

Here is what we both agreed upon—become a Real Estate Agent.

We have signed-up, committed ourselves.  Now I need to jam all that terminology into my head, and, then—horrors —a final exam.


P.S. If you have any interest in becoming a Real Estate Agent go to http://www.the90daymillionairechallenge.blogspot.com and click on the upper right corner. It will give you information, no signing up needed.

More to my liking



Definitely a navigable river. A sight I often saw as a child growing up alongside the Columbia River in Oregon





Tuesday, May 20, 2014

The Stuff Dreams are Made of


In 1938 it wasn’t Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Hitler or Mussolini that commanded the headlines. It was a little crooked legged horse named Seabiscuit.

Read Laura Hillenbrand’s skillful, exquisite  book  Seabicuit  for a an account of an underdog that inspired a nation.

A little horse with crooked legs who liked to sleep more than anything was used to train other race horses to win, by letting them. That is until a former cavalry horse trainer, and a crippled one-eyed jockey taught him that he was the winner.

In a match race against the proposed fastest horse in American and Triple Crown winner, War Admiral, Seabiscuit left him in the dust and gave the country something to think about except world conditions.

I’m back watching horse races after a few year hiatus, and rooting for the little guy.

I don’t know which inspired me the most, California Chrome or his 77 year old trainer. I first read that Art Sherman was 85, that inspired me, but checking, I guess he is only the kid of 77. I was figuring I had a few more years to come into my own—just lost 7 years. In 1955 he was an exercise jockey for the Kentucky Derby. This time he was a winner of it.

Okay, here is what inspired me:

California Chrome’s owners bought his mother, Love the Chase, for $8,000. Some told them that was too much for a horse that had won only one race. They bred her for $2,500, and she produced California Chrome. So for $10,500 they got a race horse that won millions.

The trainer Art Sherman said that it takes 11 days for a horse to recover from a race with the magnitude of the Kentucky Derby which he won.

Two weeks later he won the second leg in the race to the Triple Crown, The Preakness, and that was including his 11 day recovery and traveling over 2,000 miles from the west coast to Maryland on the East Coast.

I heard that the morning of the race he had a cough. I said, “Well, as with the stories of the great race horses, they had an injury or something that further handicapped them.” He won anyway.


I bet on him, won $80.00 and took my family to celebrate at the restaurant PF Changs.

To life,
Joyce

P.S. Feel like shouting? Go to the little wolf picture below, click, and give us a shout. The Sacred Wolf Pack is a place for creatives to meet and mingle. Ta Da.