If perfectionists were awarded medals, Russ would have stole the gold.

My hub's talent for fixing things is amazing. In the thirty-plus years we have been wed--I find it unbelievable that only on an extremely rare occasion have I ever been able to break something, he couldn't fix. This is outstanding for one simple reason: I can break almost anything. I don't even need to touch it, I can just look at it. Computers, toasters, microwaves, cars, boats, you name it. I can break it. No brag, just fact. With this knowledge, I'm sure you'll understand why I can recommend his work, If it's broke--if anyone can fix it--he can.

     This is particularly true in the field of electronics. He has dazzled me with his ability to "Breathe New Life Into Old Radios"  many times; that's what inspired our catch phrase. Rarely, does he deem any grande dame beyond hope. A bit of plastic surgery here, a rewound cap there. What sets him apart from nearly all others: He can not only fix the electronics of the old radios (every radio in the Old Radio Museum works because of his efforts); but he can renovate the cabinetry with the eye of an artist.

On this website, we have a Before and After page, It isn't a page that gets many hits, but I would highly recommend clicking on this link. (It's a slide show.)
http://www.russoldradiorepair.com/beforeafter.html
(It's noteworthy: Not only did Russ restore these old radios, he made every one work!)

So......there it is. I wanted everyone to know what an excellent job Russ does. (He wouldn't tell you; he's too shy.) But, I'm not! 

Hope you'll think of Russ' Old Radio Repair the next time you need/or want an old radio repaired, restored or perhaps would like to purchase one. There.

Till next time,

Regards (with a wink),

Best,

Sue
phlog's blog

ps. Too funny, When Russ discovered I blogged about him--told you he was shy-- he came up with an idea for a blog. Isn't that something? Soon to follow, I'll be blogging about an American Beauty--it truly is. Also, something made my day today.. more about that later.    Best, Sue

      Every time I walked by them, I felt bad. Had it been two years, maybe  three, that I'd dug up the irises; decided they were root-rotted, then tossed them onto the burn pile? At least that long. I recall my surprise the following spring when healthy green, blade-shaped stems sprung up from the soot and ashes. 
     The garden heap exists on a part of our tree farm far from any landscaping efforts. There were no well-groomed lawns or pampered perennials- only huge, old neglected oaks- surrounded by many years of shed leaves; and buckbrush starts  attempting to trump our land clearing efforts. It wasn't a place I went to- unless I wanted to discard the unwanted. 
      One fall, after digging the irises to divide them, I'd decided some of the rhizomes didn't look good,. They looked old- not worthy anymore. Perhaps they're infected with iris borers, I thought. I made the trek to the discard stack. Once there, I had given the rejected irises an grand heave-ho.

     How could the irises have survived the fires?  I'd  tucked the question in the back of my mind and there it stayed- until yesterday.

     Yesterday--although it rained heavily--I found myself toiling away at a newly conceived landscape project; it's purpose to enhance the entrance to the Old Radio Museum. (The Model A Club had scheduled a visit; I wanted to spiffy the grounds.) I had planted a few hardy primroses and heavenly-scented hyachinths, but the area still looked sparse. As I stood there, drenched in rain and knee-high in mud, I accessed the situation. I find gardening, like other outdoor activities, inspiring.  The answer--like the first daffodil up in the spring--came to me almost immediately. I knew what I needed to do.
     I grabbed the mud-encrusted shovel, and slogged through the wet ground to the burn pile. I dug around the dozen or so proud survivors, then extracted them from the fine black powder, careful not to injure their roots. The rhizomes appeared to be healthy; the pale roots exceeded a foot in length. 
     After planting the irises under the oaks, by the primroses and hyathcinths, I felt much better. I knew they belonged there. They had lived a long time and survived difficult circumstances; they deserved a good home. I picked up the barely recognizable trowel, shovel, black plastic plant pots, and threw them in the wheelbarrow.      
     When I looked up, as I lifted the flat-tired, conveyance's handles,  I saw the Old Radio Museum. I  knew why the antique pieces of electronics mattered--they, like the irises-- had earned, a special place in history. If not for their longevity, for their survival.

Has a revelation, such as this one, ever occurred to you? Love to hear about it.
Till next time.

 Regards,

Sue, phlog's blog

In an interesting twist, I happened to be looking for Russ a birthday present; March 5th is his birthday. I saw the old photo, thought I'd order a print, and surprise him with it on his birthday. I forgot about it; we went on the trip. We found on our expedition, among other things, the radio (shown above).

Several days after returning home, the print arrived. As I looked at it, I noticed the radio looked familiar. It was a 1921 Westinghouse RC--the same radio we found on the trip! How about that?

Have you had any interesting experiences such as this? Please send them along on the Comments Form. I'd love to share them.

Regards,

Till next time,

Sue
phlog's blog

A pair of a bluebirds flitted around the nesting box, that hangs on the old oak, awaiting their arrival. They know if they don't claim their temporary home first, a tree sallow might.

A ground squirrel, it's tail curled high behind it,  scampers across the lawn. Songbirds break winter's silence with joyful choruses.  Crocus  burst though the soil,  reaching for the sun. 

 Later blooming plants,  in various stages of awakening,  yawn at the sudden bursts of activity--but return to their slumber. The acreage around the Old Radio Museum seems to indicate, spring is here.

Regards- and Happy Spring!

Till next time,

Sue

phlog's blog

So here we are. We worked hard to get to this point, We realize we've been fortunate; we want to give something back. Here's what Russ' Old Radio Repair offers.

Today, I would like to re-visit the topic, what we like about old radios. Big news first though-- we now have a  Pinterest page. Take a look!  http://www.pinterest.com/russoldradios/pins/

Okay, back on topic. What we like about old radios. Bob, you inspired me today--and gave me a chuckle too. I thank you.

Bob said:  I know what my wife would say! ...... Old Radios,  my favorite thing about them is .....they keep my husband busy and in his shop :)  

I can certainly appreciate that!  Here are other great comments we received:

Rick Zolla                                ...the great memories they bring back.
Jim Hamann                          They work.
Mark Floyd                              They glow in the dark and sound terrific. (6V6's in push-pull)
Dooley's Treasure Chest     Don't forget the smell. True.
John Williams                        the audio is better on some old tubers without breaking the bank.
                                                     And might still be working when the sdr are DOA. Have  ts520 and 
                                                     sr46 that's many many yrs old, and use everyday,
                                                      I have many radios, many sill use the old glass stuff...its cool using 
                                                      a radio that's 20 to 50 yrs old.

Thanks for the input everyone!  Enjoyed your thoughts. As matter-of-fact, I think I'll make this an ongoing feature. If you  think of anymore, please send them to: Blog Comments. I'll save them up, and when I have enough--I'll share another batch. (Almost) better than chocolate chip cookies! Just as sweet.

Till next time,

Regards, 

Sue
phlog's blog

The ink has barely dried on this blog.  A heap of magazines are aging in a basket on the kitchen counter,  a stack of books are piling up on a table in the living room. I have a problem. I am a wordaholic.
 There, I admitted it. That is suppose to be the first step to recovery, but frankly I don't think there's much hope for me. I wrote a book, have written several magazine articles, numerous newspaper features...and now, this blog. What do I write about? What don't I write about? Humor is my favorite genre. Favorite topics? Scuba diving, Fuzzy and Woolley, R Bar S (our tree farm), traveling, old radios--anything and everything I find interesting, with the hope my readers will also. I tend to have a slightly skewed view of things; I'm not sure if this works to my advantage or disadvantage. I prefer to let you, the reader, make that call. In that regard, I love feedback. I can't speak for any other writers, only myself.
For me, I get a real kick out of writing and sharing with others what I've written. I feel like the kid in class that couldn't contain herself. Visualize this. I'm sitting in the front row of my second grade class, my left arm holding up my right arm--which is frantically wriggling as I profess-- "I know, teacher, I know."  That's what being a writer--communicating the written word--feels like to me.

The other thing, I already alluded to--is I love to read, thus learn. I have only one complaint; it seems I can never find enough time to do both! As matter-of-fact, I recently read an interesting article about mindfulness. I had intended to blog about mindfulness and old radios today, but I guess it will have to wait...

till next time.

Regards,

Sue
phlog's blog

Minimalism--a term referring to styles displaying pared-down design elements--is a popular trend in home décor. It is in one word--simplicity. Everything must have clean lines; be clutter-free, sleek and simple. 
The concept strips a household to the bare bones. It suggests austerity to me,  I can see only one advantage. A look so understated, that it defies time, might at times, serve a purpose.
Most of us can recall a decorating trend from the past we now find laughable. The yellowish-brown shag carpeting that wilted underfoot in the family room, the dark faux wood panels that heralded the den, or the pink mini-roses wallpaper slapped up in the bedroom. It's understandable how an new idea could develop to buck the backlash of a timeworn trend.

Minimalism offers stone cold hard granite, sleek stainless steel, concrete and lacquered surfaces to create a modern aesthetic. More (as I'm referring to an older aesthetic) or (maximism as Russ refers to it) offers warmth, softness, and a pleasant comfy surrounding. An ascetic, I'm not; I have to admit I love comfort.  And, I don't think of myself as old-fashioned.

I have an anti-gravity chair, a Keurig K60/K65 Special Edition Brewer and an iPad. But to be truthful, on a foggy, chilly, winter evening,  I'd much rather lounge in an overstuffed chair with a cup of slow-brewed tea and a good book. I want the reassurance of things familiar--like an old friend. I want to turn on the old radios and listen to music I've heard before. I want to know that in a world--where change happens at such a fast pace,  at times it seems almost possible to get thrown off--that some things are still predictable; that they haven't changed.

 Minimalism is full of adjectives that seem to me  to be antonyms of what creates a home. I'll take old radios, warm kitties, soft blankies and sink-in-so-deep-you-get-lost plush chairs over minimalism-- any day.

Till next time,

Regards,

Sue
phlog's blog

What do you think? Are old radios a good decorating idea?

It began as a joke. Russ had reached a milestone birthday--won't say which one;  I decided to brainstorm a memorable gift.  Applying a thought process far too convoluted to explain, I came up with an idea.

I'll take one of his favorite things--old radios, and make them related to his age in a humorous way.
I scurried to the craft for supplies. Paint, precut letters, wood glue and a flower (to serve as a wink.)

Let's see...Old Russ' Radios, Russ' Old Radios, how could I make it confusing enough to be mistaken as Old Russ' Radios?   I scooted the letters around, tried different configurations and finally arrived as the sign below. That's it,  I thought. The sign still graces the entryway to the Old Radio Museum today.

What do you think? Did I nail it? Let me know.

Till next time,

Regards,

Sue
phlog's blog