The Lickity Splitter

It’s called the Lickity Splitter.

I found it in, of all places, the WACO Air Museum and Aviation Learning Center in Troy, Ohio. While that museum is dedicated mostly to the WACO airplanes made in town a century ago, they also have a few pieces related to general local history.

Note: I dug a little deeper after I wrote that line and the internet tells me the man who patented the design was a fella named Clayton Brukner who was once the head of the WACO Air Company. This rings a bell for me – I think I read it on a museum sign and then promptly forgot.

Anyway….

This is a log splitter that was produced by the Piqua Engineering Company. The sign says they started making these things in 1958 and it was basically the Cadillac of log splitters back in the day.

The Piqua Engineering Company opened in 1942 as a manufacturer of airplanes and producer of parts for the US government during the war. Postwar years led them in different directions to make neon signs, dumbwaiters, paper bailers and log splitters, among other things.

Oddly enough, there’s one for sale in an online auction. Click here if you wish to place your bid but do it soon as the auction ends on March 22, 2023. It’s in Brooklyn, Mississippi. I found one that sold a while back for $1,100.

By the way, I never thought that I would be writing about a log splitter but I found the picture from my day at the WACO museum and couldn’t resist asking the question that so often travels through my mind. What the heck is that?

Piqua Milling Company

I break for great old industrial buildings. The Piqua Milling Company in downtown Piqua, Ohio made me go around the block for a quick looksee.

It appeared vacant when I visited last summer. The fact it’s still there and looking so great is probably a miracle. It would make a fantastic restaurant or even an inn or brewery.

Here’s hoping someone does something amazing with it before it’s too late.

Stained Glass

Stained glass is best viewed from the inside. It’s impressive from the street but extraordinary when the light shines in. This window is from this church I visited in Piqua, Ohio last year.

Stained glass has been documented in churches since the seventh century so there’s a long tradition of using this inspirational art. Not only is it beautiful, the imagery can be used to tell a story.

Rain has moved in so today probably won’t be good for adventures or for seeing light stream through the stained glass of an old church. Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy this day.

Stained Glass

Stained glass is best viewed from the inside. It’s impressive from the street but extraordinary when the light shines in. This window is from this church I visited in Piqua, Ohio last year.

Stained glass has been documented in churches since the seventh century so there’s a long tradition of using this inspirational art. Not only is it beautiful, the imagery can be used to tell a story.

Rain has moved in so today probably won’t be good for adventures or for seeing light stream through the stained glass of an old church. Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy this day.

The Open Road

The open road is calling my name. There’s a little road trip on the agenda this fall and I seriously cannot wait. It has been a long, hard year close to home and it is time to see some new things.

I’m hopeful that the social distancing and other Covid safety tactics I already employ will help me stay safe while out traveling.

This picture gives me hope. Blue skies, a fabulous barn and open road- what more could a gal want?

This Is Why We Adventure

Walking down the street in Piqua, Ohio, I stumbled onto an old Episcopal Church made of stone and adorned with gorgeous stained glass. A pickup truck out front served as work space for two locals who had removed the church’s antique front doors for repair.

After stopping to ask if it was ok to go inside, I climbed the front steps and passed through the opening where large red doors with enormous ornate hardware should have been.

Natural light flooded through colorful stained glass in all directions, giving the sanctuary an almost other worldly feeling. That alone was worth the visit but I was greeted by another surprise, a man playing the piano with the confidence and grace of a trained concert pianist. I stayed for just a few minutes but he never stopped playing, agilely transitioning from one song into another without a break.

Normally I would say that churches are best enjoyed in solitude but having this space filled with extraordinary music made the experience so very special.

I chatted with one of the woodworkers on the way out and learned that the pianist is known around town, always scruffy, always carrying the nap sack I saw resting next to the piano, and possibly homeless. This possibility made me sad. The thought of anyone being homeless is horrible and it seems such a shame that a person with this kind of talent would be down on his luck.

It was a good reminder to not judge a person or place, especially when you don’t know the entire story. The woman I spoke with said that she sees him around town but was amazed when he showed up one day and began playing song after song.

This is why I wander small town side streets and backroads It is these peaks behind the curtain and the surprises around the corner that make it worthwhile. The glimpse inside the church and the powerful gift of song from someone that locals know as a street person made my day. It gives me cause to keep going, to keep looking for the secrets that our world holds and to keep looking around the next bend.