No fun at all

Other than the trip to Forks with life hasn't been a whole lot of fun lately.

R. called me up last Friday and the conversation didn't go well. It started out OK, but when I got down to questioning her about what she was doing, she went ballistic, screamed and yelled at me on the phone and finally hung up. After everything I have done for her lately, it really hurt to be told that I didn't love her and couldn't care less what happened to her.

The reasons I was trying to find out what was going on, are that right after I signed for her $5.000.00 line of credit, she quit her job or was fired. When she was over on Father's Day her behavior was pretty erratic. She has stopped seeing her friends, and is hanging out part of the time on Broadway.

All these signs point pretty directly to her being back on Meth. Breaks my heart. she has so much potential, but she is throwing it all in the toilet. She was using once before, but came home, got straight, got a job, moved out, got a car, and everything was looking up for the last couple of years. I guess her recovery was a lot more fragile than I realized.

Anyway, this whole thig has put Mrs A. over the edge. Having so many people dependent on us really puts a strain on her, but she is to the point now that the smallest thing is likely to send her off on a screaming tirade. Monday it was because V. didn't weed whack the front yard, yesterday because L. didn't do a load of towels. The minute the steam starts coming out of her ears, everyone else scatters like a school of fish when a baracuda shows up. Which of course leaves me swimming there all alone looking like lunch.

I am going to call and set up an appointment with a counselor. I hate to see her in such pain. It tears me apart to see her come home and tears start coming up in her eyes.

She and I get along great, and our relationship is good, but things outside our relationship are causing a lot of pressure on both of us.

I would do anything for Mrs A., so this is just a speed bump in the hiway of life, but I hate it when my head keeps hitting the roof.

PICS

You need to look at the pictures from the bottom up. chronologically. I tried to add a few more pictures last night but it was so flamin' hot yesterday I just gave up. I'll try to add a few more tonight

In the one picture is proof in color that Ed, the lead guitarist, will help on the setup under the right circumstances. That's him up on the ladder hepling rig the tarp over the stage.

What the pictures DON'T show is the thousands of big black flying ants.

Forks

Man, I am exhaustipated (so tired you don't give a shit).

This weekend was tiring, I got very little sleep, it was way too hot, and we had a great time.
Per my previous post, There was a show by Morning Light at the Olympic Correctional Facility near Forks, Wa.

Friday Mrs A. and I took the day off, with the intention of getting an early start (but not too early). L. had two medical procedures, so we didn't get out of town until 6:30. I would have been better off to have gone to work and saved the day of Vacation. Everything turned out fine for L.

So we ended up pulling in to the Hotel at Forks at 11:30, only to find out that the band had still not arrived. The guy at the counter wanted to hit the hay, so we put a note on the office door and he gave me the extra key to the other suite, which of course meant that I had to wait up for them to arrive.

They pulled in at about 12:30, so I didn't get to bed until 1:00. At about 4:30 someone started up a diesel truck right outside our window and woke me up, so I was running on about three hours sleep.

The weather forecast was for sunshine, so the band elected to have an outdoor concert, setting up on the soccer field. It turned out not only sunny, but it broke the temperature record by 11 degrees. It was 90. Well, unpacking and setting up the stage and everything was hot and dusty work. Not to mention that there was an invasion of these enormous black flying ants, which got into everything.

I was so hot that the band was concerned about the instruments being out in the hot sun. Mrs A. suggested that we borrow a couple of sheets from the facility. After talking to the guards, we scrounged up this enormous blue tarp. But what to do with it.

Since this was a daytime outside show, we weren't setting up the light show. I suggested that we take all the scaffolding that we normally use to mount the lights and use it to turn the tarp into a tent. It took an hour or so to get it set up, but it worked out OK.

There was a pretty stiff breeze, so it threatened to go parasailing a couple of times, and we had to retye some of the ropes when they pulled the eyes out of the tarp, but everyone was thankful for the shade.

April started losing her voice during the show, and had to ease up on the high notes, but she managed to make it through the show. They even introduced a couple of new songs.

Setting up the sound system was a real pain in the butt. We were on a slight rise over the soccer field, and there was a solid wall of trees on the far side. It provided this split second echo that distorted the sound. Because we were on a rise, the midlevel and high frequencies were going right over the heads of the audience, so we had to unstack the speakers and set them on the ground. Sound check took better than three hours, and with the hot weather and endless sound check, tempers got shot, and words were exchanged.

We came back yesterday, and took the long way around, to complete the Olympic peninsula Loop. We stopped at Ruby Beach on the way back, and spent a couple of hours playing at the beach. What a beautiful day.

When we got home the house was still standing and actually reasonable in order. I think this is the first time we have gone away and not come back to complete chaos.

K. is sick, has a nasty cold and congestion. We got a knock on the bedroom door at 3:00 that they needed to borrow the car to run him to the Hospital. His temperature was over 103 degrees, and his breathing was very strained. I thin it was overreaction to run him to the emergency room, but they are fairly new to the parent thing, and tend to think everything is a crisis. They were gone a couple of hours and came back and everything was fine. All the hospital did was give K. some children's tylenol, and we have plenty of that at home, but the women were not receptive to logic, and I didn't dare to tell them to calm down.

So I am sitting here kinda zombified this morning, and I sure a hell better remember to used Spellcheck this morning.

Goin' to Prison

That's right. Mrs A. and I are going to prison this weekend.

Before you jump to any conclusions, let me admit to obfuscating. No, that's not a crime, it is the act of being deliberately misleading. It is not the first time I have led my fellow bloggers down the garden path, just to get them off balance.

So long time visitors here are aware that Mrs A. and I are crew to a Christian Rock N' Roll band,

Morning Light . Their mission is to the incarcerated, so this weekend we are going to Olympic Correctional Institution in Forks Washington. It is about a six hour drive to get there, but a scenic drive. I hope to talk Mrs A. into taking the Z. That would mean that she could only take two suitcases, and me a gym bag (snicker). It also means I have to do all the driving, as Mrs A. is terrified of driving the Z.

We will be staying two nights in a hotel, accommodations provided by the Foursquare Church. Many thanks to them.

One of the things that Morning Light does is provide transitional help for people being released back out of Prison.

This is the first time Mrs A. and I will have gone to an adult facility. Up until now we have helped set up at juvenile detention facilities. I have to admit I am a little nervous. It's bad enough when the big door goes "Clang" at Juvie, but I know I will never be mistaken for one of the inmates should anything happen. I could also take care of myself and Mrs A. if anything happened. In an adult facility that would not be true. I know I am being overly concerned, but that's part of being a spouse.

Friday is also L.s surgery. One of the reasons she had to terminate her last pregnancy was that they discovered multiple lesions on her cervix. They won't go as far as telling her they are cancer, but the suddenly decided they needed to go in and remove her cervix. The operation is pretty much standard, but we will stick around town until she is clear, then drive out to Forks. It will be a long day.

I will try to remember the camera, and if I do, I will post pictures here next week.

If you are the praying type, remember us, if you're not wish us luck.

If you are a complete heathen have a beer for me.

The Rambler Part 1

I was pondering what to blog about yesterday, yesterdays blog being rather mundane. I mean, how do you top a pissing-on-an-electric-fence story? I couldn't think of a thing, so I decided to go in an entirely different direction.

There are certain cars that come into your life and for whatever reason become legendary. Sometimes for good reasons, sometimes for less than good reasons.

The Rambler was one of those cars that seemed to just accumulate stories. Even the way we obtained it was unusual.

JB was working at a place that mede fiberglass tubs and shower surrounds. They had gotten in a shipment of fiberglass resin that was contaminated. A half a dozen 55 gallon drums. Since the contamination would cause the parts to be discolored it was useless to the company. The supplier wrote off the resin, and the company said that anyone could have it that wanted it. We grabbed four drums.

My landlord had an alcoholic son, who couldn't hold down a job. However, he was a talented boat builder. He could use the resin to coat a couple of coulpe of double ended steelhead drift boats he was building. In return his dad would give us a 1955 Rambler station wagon, which was firmly entrenched in a field.

The Rambler had been sitting for a couple of years. It was butt ugly, a sort of mold green, with lichens growing on it. It looked quite organic.

They had been in the middle of doing a valve job on it when they had lost interest, but it was mostly all there, so we dragged it out of the field, and took it over to Steve's garage. They had removed the head and pulled the valves, which were in the back seat, but when we inventoried things, we were missing the valve stem keepers.

Off to the junkyard.

The junkyard was less than heplful, but we did find another flathead six Rambler. They refused to loan us tools or help us in any way, so we went back home and got the tools we needed. It took a quite a while to tear down the engine enough to get at the keepers.

Since the junkyard had been such jerks, and we were near the fence, each part we removed, we chucked over the fence. After a couple of hours, we went to the office with a small handfull of valve keepers. They charged us $.50 for the keepers.

We came back later and picked up the intake and exhaust manifolds, head and distribtor that had fallen over the fence.

When we went to install the radiator, it rattled, and was too heavy. WTF? We shook it, and hazel nuts started falling out of the bottom of the radiator. Some squirrel had been using it as his safety deposit box. Well, we had just broken the bank. We must have gotten a couple of pounds of nuts out of the radiator.

We cleaned everything up, put everything in place, and it started up the very first try. I was astounded that it had been so easy. Things are never that easy.

Steve took it down the street to give it a trial run. About a half a block away, there was a loud explosion, with fire and smoke gushing out from under the hood. It looked like a dragster that had blown the engine during a race. The door popped open, and there was Steve running down the street, ducking, waiting for the Hollywood explosion. It never happened.

After letting the car sit a while to make sure nothing was going to happen, we went down to see what had happened.

There were three of us working on the car at the same time. Someone had put the gas line on the carb and just tightened it a couple of turns, meaning to snug it up later, which never got done. The line had rattled loose and sprayed raw gas all over the inside of the engine compartment, and when it caught WHOOOMO!

The fire had burned up the seals in the carb and a bunch of wiring in the engine compartment. Luckily, we had all of these spare parts that has escaped from the junkyard, so after a couple of hours to set things right and make sure the gas line was tightened, the car was ready for the road. (To this day we still argue about who didn't tighten the line the first time.)

So The Rambler became our communal errand running grocery getting car of many uses.

Those old falthead sixes were notorious for blowing head gaskets. The head is about 1 1/2" thick, and if you overheat the car at all the head warps, and you have to replace the head gasket. The head is held in place by about 40 studs coming out of the block. Getting it loose can be a real pain in the butt. The nuts have to be first loosened just a little and then removed in a particular sequence to keep from warping the head.

We had done the initial torque down of the head, and were going back for final torque, when JB broke off stud #1 (the one right in the center of the head) flush with the top off the block. Crap.

We didn't want to take the head back off, so we took a bolt of the right size so it was a tight fit and cut off the shank so that it was just the right length. A tube of epoxy. Put some epoxy in the hole and hammer the bolt in place. Let it set for 24 hours, and off we went.

After a couple of months,we were driving down the road when BANG CHUFF CHUFF CHUFF. A small dimple appeared in the hood. The epoxy had given out and the bolt had blown out of the hole and put a dimple in the hood of the car.

No big deal, bolts were cheap. So we repeated the procedure. The only problem was that the fit wasn't quite as tight the second time, so the duration wasn't quite as long. Each time the duration was a little shorter.

We accumulated a nice series of dimples in the hood of the car.

When it got to the point that every other weekend we were refitting bolts, we decided we had to fix the problem. So we tore the head off of the engine to see what was up. It was a bit of a chore getting the head off without breaking it, because some of the epoxy had cemeted the head to the head gasket, which in turn was cemented to the block.

We futzed around for a while after we got the head off, and decided we needed to go get an easy-out to remove the remains of the stud. JB jumped in his truck while Steve and I waited.

I got a deliciously evil idea.

We were working in JB's driveway, and I lived right next door. In my garage I was rebuilding the engine from a 1940 Chev. pickup truck, which was all in pieces.

Even though the parts were not real similar to the Rambler, we grabbed the crank, rods, and pistons from my motor and dragged them to where we were working, and strewed them around. Lastly we draped an old towel over the engine compartment.

As JB pulled in, I saw his eyes get big, and he sat up higher in the truck, as his jaw dropped. He jumped out of the truck and was pointiing at the parts on the ground. His face went white, then red, then white again. His mouth was moving, but no noise was coming out. He kinda made a little hop and turned to point at another part.

Bu this time Steve and I were litterally rolling in the driveway, laughing so hard we couldn't talk.

Without saying a word, I got up and leaned over and took the towel off of the engine compartment.

Fathers Day

Hope y'all had a great Father's day. This was a busy weekend for Mrs A. and I.

Saturday was a two hour meeting at the Church for our upcoming mission to Mexico. Then Grocery shopping. By the time we got done we were both exhausted.

I had rented the movie "End of the Spear" so we put it on. Good movie if you can get past the violence. It is a movie about first contact with a violent tribe in the Amazon Basin by missionaries in the 1950's. No one had survived contact. The male missionaries make first contact, and end up getting killed. The wives and kids go in after and manage to work things out. It is based on a true story. The best part is at the end, when the credits are playing. The head of the Natives eventually flew up to the States and his perceptions of life in the US are worth watching the whole movie.

Fathers Day after church I watched the Mariners whup on San Francisco. Swept all three games.

Friday night game was a classic. The lead went back and forth a couple of times. Ninth inning, score Seattle 5 SF 4, Two on two out. Barry Bonds at the plate JJ Putz in Relief. The were both stoked and the crowd was on it's feet. JJ put two fastballs by Bonds. Everyone was on their feet. Putz lets go with a splitter and tied up Bonds, and the game was over. It was great!

So for Father's Day I grilled Shrimp Kabobs and Chicken Kabobs and ate until I couldn't eat no mo. Then Mrs A, and I watched 16 Blocks. Bruce Willis looked so old and worn out in this movie that I couldnt believe it was him. It was the right voice, but I couldn't relate it to the face. Really good makup job, since he plays a washed up Detective.

Any way, here it is Monday again. Hang on tight and make sure the safety bar is engaged, 'cause the Roller Coaster is about to begin.

SHOCKER II

Once I got started down this path, There was no turning back. Men, electricity and shocking results.

On the farm, the pasture was a half mile long with electric fences all around and separating the sections. So it was a couple of miles of electric fence. We had what was called a "Brushcutter" fence.

With that much fence, it was hard to keep up with the maintenance. Grass would grow up and touch the fence and short it out. One option was to send out one of us kids to trim the grass. The other was to upgrade to the "Brushcutter".

Electric fences are pulsed, like they are being turned on and off. The strength of the pulse is determined by the transformer. In a "Brushcutter" that pulse is strong enough that if the fence is brushed by a grass stem, it will cut it in two. It gives quite a jolt.

As kids we would fool around with the fence. We would see if we could jump up in the air, grab the fence and let go again before we touched the Ground. There was no faking it if you falied. I felt like you had been hit with the Cosmic Karma hammer.
When we were out in the field, sometimes you wouldn't know if the fence was on or off, so the best way to find out was to very quickly touch the fence with the back of your hand. You used the back of your hand, because the current could make your hand clench.

The worst I ever got was one day when I was fishing across the road. I was standing calf deep in the creek and reached up to grab a bush to help me get out, and grabbed the hot wire. I swear my hair was standing on end, smoking when I got to the bank.

When I got my draft notice, another friend got his at the same time, so we threw a big going away party. This was in Seattle just South of the Airport. One of our friends was renting a small house of about 800 sq. ft.. We packed that house full. It was an isolated house, with no near neighbors. His landlord lived next door, but on the other side of a horse pasture.

The house was crammed, and of course only had one bathroom. One of the advantages of being male it that the world is your bathroom. The ladies used the bathroom, the guys a comvenient tree.

I was in the back bedroom making out with my girlfriend when I heard this very loud roar from the front yard followed by a lot of laughter.

It was my friend Dave, who was jumping up and dowm bellowing at the top of his lungs and holding on to his whanger, which was flopping up and down. Now, Dave was a 6' 8" beanpole, and the sight of him jumping up and down bellowing was hilarious.

It seems he went a little farther out into the yard (Out of modesty?) to tke a piss than the other guys had. Because he had been drinking, he failed to see the single strand of silver wire.

I can see every male who reads this cringing. Probably along with some serious shrinkage.

That's right, Dave has pissed on the neighbor's electric fence.

Later he said it felt like he had burned the last couple of inched off of his works.

At the moment I was laughing too hard to ask.

Shocker

I was over at the Peanut Queen's this morning, and her blog started me down this path, so since she is royalty and I am not, we will blame this on her.

She was talking about using a cattle prod on the PK's left nut to stop him from snoring, and it reminded me of this.

When I was working in a different building, which has since been razed and leveled, we had a carpet that was really bad about building up a charge of static electricity. We had to go get stuff off of these metal storage shelves, and I swear I have jumped a spark at least an inch a couple of times.

Several of us got in the habit of carrying around a small piece of metal, which we would use to ground ourselves. You got pretty jumpy after the hundreth time you got shocked.

One of the guys I worked with carried around a silver dollar with him. He liked to walk up to people and show them the coin. Of course when he did, he shocked the hell out of them. He found it highly amusing.

One day, I had been up doing something or the other and was coming back to my desk, when I noticed the guy was sitting on the corner of a desk kinda spraddle legged. These were the old metal desks with a formica top. They had a metal piece of trim running around the edge. I wondered what would happen if I grounded myself on that piece of metal trim. It seemed to be running right under his crotch.

Yep. I jumped a spark about an inch, and he rose to the occasion.

YYEEEOOOUUUCCCHHH!!!

He did a little dance while hloding on to his package. I almost felt guilty.

Almost.

Going, Going, Gone

I picked up a bike when I went to the dump the other day. A perfectly good Huffy 18 speed girls bike. I took it home and cleaned it up. Yerterday, the next door neighbor was out working in the yard, so I went over and asked her if one of her girls needed a bike.

Her older girl, who is in the same class as V. had outgrown her current bike, so she could use a new bike. The lady next door is a single mom, and I know her budget is real tight, so I brought it over. She was real pleased. Made me feel good too.

It didn't cost me anything but asking and a little elbow grease to clean up the bike, and what a good feeling.

I didn't know that!

I'm a pretty competent guy when it comes to financial stuff. I've never gotten in over my head financially because I'm pretty conservative.

As I mentioned yesterday, I cosigned for R. to get a line of credit. Mrs A. and I were talking and she said she was talking to one of her co-workers at the bank, and the co-worker asked if I had voided the master on the loan application.

HUH?

It seems that when you cosign on the loan, if the master is not voided, the other party can apply for any other kind of loan, using the same master.

So if R. decided she wanted a new car, she could have waltzed into any dealership and bought a car, using the Master Loan Agreement as her collateral, and because I have excellent credit, they would sell her a car. Without even informing me. I would only know when it showed up on my statement.

The Master stays in effect for five years.

Now I love R. and I don't think she would do that, but it's a whole lot safer to remove the temptation. So I went down to the bank after work yesterday and voided the Master on the loan.

The Bank should have to inform you about this when you cosign the loan. I was completely unaware.

Monday, Monday

Which is, of course a song by the Mommas And Papas, which starts out "Monday Monday, can't trust that day". Kinda sums up my feeling about Monday.

Hope everyone had a great weekend. Mine was busy but good. Went to a retirement party with MRS A. for one of her co-workers. It was OK.

Worked on the Z, worked on the Mercedes, did some yard work, took a recycle trip to the dump for cardboard and newspapers. When I was there a guy next to me had a Huffy girls 18 speed bike in the back of his truck along with the garbage. I asked him if he was throwing it away. When he said "Yes" I told him I would take it off of his hands. It is a perfectly good bike, absolutely nothing wrong with it. I took it home cleaned it up and oiled the chain and it is just fine. I have no need of it, but I bet I can find a kid in the neighborhood who needs a bike. It just seemed such a shame to see it go in the dump.

I did something I swore I would never do, and that covers a lot of ground. I co-signed for a line of credit for R. She has supported herself for about three years now, has always paid her bills on time.

Well, she got a DUI. amd the court fees and lawyers fees came to almost $5,000.00. I told her I would not pay or loan her the money. She had until the last day of May to pay the fines and court costs, or they would put her in jail. I waited until the last minute before I told her I would co-sign on a line of credit to keep her from going to jail, but I let her sweat some first.

I got the lawnmower running yesterday. I have no idea how old it is. I got it from my dad seven years ago, and I don't have any idea how long he had it before that. It refused to run the other day, so I pulled it all apart yesterday, cleaned everything and put it back together. It started with the first pull.

Now comes the hard part: getting someone else to use it.

Grumpy

I am not a morning person. When we got married, I told Mrs A. "I am not very nice first thing in the morning, so it would be better if you didn't try to engage me in meaningful conversation first thing in the morning."

I stumble around, disorganized, and I have a hard time getting out the front door with all the stuff I need. We have evolved a check list. 'Badge" Check "Bug" check "Cell phones(2)" check "Keys" check "Wallet" check "Watch" check "Lunch" check. If I get out the front door with all of the above and matching socks, it has been a good morning.

Yesterday was not a good morning.

Since I get up at zero dark thirty, I have to be in bed and asleep by 8:45 to get eight hours sleep. This never happens. That may be part of the reason I am grumpy in the morning.

At 11:00 Wednesday night the phone rings, and it is L. "We are at the Supermall, and the car won't start." I had been sound asleep, so formulating a complex thought was nigh on to impossible, but eventually it registered that they wanted me to come down and rescue them.

I guess that's what parents are for.

So I didn't get a lot of sleep.

Blogger was screwed up all day. I tried to leave comments on my regular reads, but Blogger was having none of it. Every time something went wrong. That's why there was no post for yesterday.

I was perusing "Craigs list" yesterday and there was an ad for a 1966 AC Cobra Reproduction for $5995.




In the pictures it looked incredible, and the listing was brand new. I sent the guy and e-mail and said if that was the real price, I would be by with the cash the same day. I sent an e-mail to Mrs A. and told her I was going to buy it, that I would sell off a couple of other cars to get it. She thought I was kidding.

Of course the price was a typo, it should have been $59,995, but for a moment there I had visions of tooling down the hiway in my Cobra blowing the doors off of anything that dared to challenge me.

Sure it has no roof, sure it would get like six miles to the gallon, sure it would scare the pants off Mrs A., but for one summer, I would rule the road.

Oh well, for a couple of hours there I was wound up and excited. Heck, I would have come around and given you a ride you wouldn't soon forget.

But don't ask to drive.

Behind the curtain

The beautiful and vivacious Peanut Queen more or less dared me to tell the story of how I met Mrs A. She had posted how she met the Peanut king, and I told her it was nice to get a glimpse behind the curtain, so she wanted to know when she could look up my kilt......er behind my curtain. Kinda like "I showed you mine, now you show me yours...."
Bad Al, BAD BAD.

SOOOOOOO

I had been dating a Min Lao woman, and things had gotten pretty serious, but she wasn't up to the cultural challenges, so we weren't seeing each other. For probably six months, my son's fiance' had been trying to get me to date one of the women she knew at work, but I wasn't interested because I was "Otherwise occupied". She supplied a phone number.

After about a month of sulking and licking my wounds, I decided I was not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I saw that Karrin Alyson was at Jazz Alley, and I wanted to go see her, but I had no one to take, so I scrounged around and found the phone number. I figured that I had nothing to lose. If it didn't turn out we were compatible, I could still enjoy a good dinner and a good evening of music.

So I called her and set up a meeting at a neutral place (Zoopa's). We described what we would be wearing and figured out a time. We met. She was very easy to look at, and all the bits were in a pleasant configuration. I liked the way she walked, and the way she looked. We had pleasant conversation on the way to the club, had a nice dinner and drinks, and listened to some very nice jazz.

Her prior husband had dropped dead of a heart attack six years before. She had pretty much reconciled herself to living by herself. We were both really looking for someone to go places and do stuff with, because it is sure a lot more fun when you have someone to turn to and say "Look at that incredible sunset!"

The turning point was one Saturday, a month or so later. We both love hiking. She wanted to go hiking on the beach, so on the spur of the moment I decided to drive to the Ocean to Twin Harbors State Park.

I have always figured that if you want to find out what someone is REALLY like, take a multi-hour trip in a car with them. We had a ball. I missed the turnoff and we ended up going all the way to the Columbia River before I turned, anf then we went out to the coast and back up to Westport. We ended up being on the road for 6 hours. We stopped and got dinner, and went down to the beach, and went for a long walk on the beach just as the sun set. She found a sand dollar, and I asked if the knew it had angels inside. She gave me a "you're pullin' my leg" kinda look, do I found a rock and broke it open and showed her the "Angels". I think she still has them.

The sunset was incredible. I was exhausted by the time we got back to the parking lot where we had left her car.

I kissed her for the first time, there in the dark in the parking lot, and I floated home in the clouds.

Six months later we were married, and although it has not always been smooth sailing, it has been a heck of a trip, and I wouldn't have missed a minute of it.

You Tryin' to tell me something?

I got this image in an e-mail yesterday, and I couldn't resist the impulse to share it.
I really couldn't tell if it had been manipulated or not.
The message was that if you saw this, it was probably a good idea to just turn around and go home, because things were not going to get any better as the day went along.
Last night was a really good evening. V. had his new game, so he was entrenched in his room killing monsters.
L & N & K were gone camping.
I had BBQ'd on Sunday and we had leftover steak, so I cut it up real fine, and we had BBQ beef sandwiches. Mrs A. had made it back to work, and everything had just pretty much been dumped on her desk while she was out, so she was pretty stressed. So I popped open a bottle of Martini & Rossi Asti Spumante. Gormets would probably shudder. Asti and BBQ........
It was delicious.
We watched a little TV and when the Mariners game came on, she went upstairs, and I watched downstaris. The house was quiet. I could feel my body soaking up the quiet, and feel the knots unwinding.
The Mariners won, but it was only Kansas City, who has the worst record in Baseball. They beat them three games out of four. Any game that puts an "X" in the win column is good.
The evening was very pleasant. It is the way I had imagined our life together to be.
As soon as the game was over, it was upstairs for a little snuggle, slap and tickle, and a good nights sleep.
The world seemed a little sunnier this morning.

Up 'n Down

Mrs A. is not a good patient.
In fact the words "Patient" and "Mrs. A." do not belong in the same sentence. It has been very hard for her, because she has been laid up because of having a bunion removed, and it is DRIVING HER NUTS.
She is somewhat OCD. and she can't get her foot wet, so she has a hard time taking a shower and washing her hair.
This drives her nuts.
She hasn't been able to get around very well, so she can't vacuum or mop floors.
And this drives her nuts.
L. is a slob and never picks up after her kid. He throws food in the floor, it is likely to just lay there until either Mrs. A. or I pick it up.
This drives her nuts.
They don't have enough money to pay us the stipend we are charging them, but they have money to but a ferret,
and this drives her nuts.
She is bored out of her skull, because you can only watch so much TV, and she is sure that the house is falling down around her ears because she can't get up and clean it. Having gone through a similar situation when I got my shoulder operated on, I can sympathize. I try real hard to shut up and just take it.
So this weekend was up and down.
For the up part, V. got his progress report from school. We have been going round and round because at midterm he had three "F"s on his report card. So I started taking things away from him. If things didn't improve, I told him I would continue to take things away until there was nothing in his room but himself, his school work,, and a bare mattress. He would have to study just to have something to do.
V. comes in with his Progress Report. He has to be dramatic about it.
"Well, I didn't get any "F"s"
"That's great V."
"I also didn't get any "D"s"
"Super job V."
"I also didn't get any "C"s"
"No kidding! That is much better than I expected. You know that new game you've been wanting to get? Lets go down to Game Stop and I'll buy it for you."
So he has all of his stuff back, and we'll see how it goes. There are still a couple of weeks until school is over.
But all of the nagging and stuff actually payed off.

Ethics

So R. called the other day all upset. She has taken on additional responsibilities at work and they have caused her no end of grief. First of all, she hired her long time best friend to work in the office. Well B. is a new mom and was missing a lot of work because she couldn't bear to leave her daughter with someone else, and the environment at work was not fit for an infant, so R. had to tell her friend to shape up or ship out. It was hard for her.

She also started going out and doing estimates. There is a monitary bonus for every new customer you sign up. She started doing some of the book keeping, just ballancing the daily ledgers. She noticed that the manager, who is her friend and hired her, was taking money that she was not entitled to.

She called me to get advice as to what to do. I told her that even though it was going to be difficult, she needed to tell the owner of the business what was going on. The owner is an absentee owner, and is never around, so she had to make arrangements to meet him outside the workplace. So when she was out doing an estimate, she met him at Starbucks, and let him know what was going on.

He told her that she had done the right thing, and that they had been suspicious for some time and were about to do an audit of the books.

I have no idea where things go from here. The owner asked her if she thought she could do the job as General Manager, and she is hesitant to take it. It would be a real challenge for her. After all she is only 21, and there are around 25 enployees. A lot of responsibility.

I told her to grab on to the opportunity with both hands and go for it. Opportunities don't come around all that often, so you need to pounce on them when they do. It will look to some people like she ratted out her boss so she could get her job, but that is not it at all.

All in all, I am very proud of R. She made a couple of very hard decisions, and made the right call.

Somebody must have done something right.

Aftermath

Yesterday wasn't a whole lot of fun.

We got up at zero dark thirty to go check into the Hospital so Mrs A. could have her foot operated on. Just a bunion removal (as if any operation can be classified as 'just").

We checked it at 5:30 sat around for a couple of hours and were informed the doctor was sick. Sat around for a couple more hours while they decided what to do. Come back at 11:00.

So we went home and then came back. They finally got around to operating at 1:00, and the whole process took a couple of hours, and another hour for recovery. By the time we got out of the Hospital, 12 hours had passed. Mrs. A. was OK until around 10:00 when the drugs from the hospital wore off.

She had a prescription for Vicodin, but it just kinda takes the edge off the pain. Since she was uncomfortable, she was up and down all night. Every once in a while it was "Honey, are you awake?. HONEY ARE YOU AWAKE?"

She was there for me when I had my shoulder operated on, and I'll be there for her. That's one of the reasons for having a spouse.

And I promise I won't complain.

Really.

I mean it!

Who is that out there snickering?

Memorial Day Weekend

Hope everyone had a great weekend. Mine was OK but not the best I have ever had. It rained here in Alville most of the weekend.
The mission for the weekend was pretty simple. Get the Mercedes running well, and do a little work on the Z. Actually N. got the Mercedes running, and I just adjusted the timing and the fuel mixture.
N. had no mechanical skills whatsoever, so I have been teaching him the basics as we go along. I had stopped with the timing half done, and intended to finish up the other night. When I got home from work I went upstairs to change and I heard the starter going UH-UH-UH-UH, then stop, then start again. After a while I heard the engine pop, and about the time I got outside, it fired and started to run. N. came running up the walk pumping both arms and yelling "A win for the home team". I have never seen him so jazzed. I was actually proud of him. Maybe it will give him something to build from. At any rate, after we finished with the car, it was running pretty good despite the fact it has a regular screw filling the hole for one of the needle valves. They had no problems with it all weekend, and they drove the heck out of it.
The Z needed to have the differential tightened up. No big deal, but I spent most of the weekend waiting for a window in the weather to get out and do it.
So basically we spent the weekend laying around watching movies or puttering around the house.
Mrs A. is having foot surgery tomorrow, so I have to take the day off to drive her around. She is scheduled to check in the Hospital at 5:20 AM, so I guess we will be getting up at zero dark thirty (sigh). Take a day off work, and I don't get to sleep in.

RATS!

I have lived in the same house for 19 years. I like my house, it is a lot like me, a little run down but very comfortable and utlitarian. I have never before had a problem with rats. Until this week.

When I came home on Tuesday, as I pulled in the driveway, I saw a brown rat sitting on top of the garbage can. I hate rats. So I went and got the BB gun and made a nice neat little hole in his head. Crude but effective. I thought he was a loner, but I was wrong.

When I came home on Wednesday there were three more in the garbage. The kids are throwing stuff in the garbage, and not puting the lid back on, attracting the disease carrying vermin.

After chewing the kids out for attracting the rats, I set about to dispose of the vermin. I went and got the BB gun and waited in ambush. The had created a burrow in the rockery, so I sat out of sight waiting for one of the foolhardy to stick his or her disese carrying heads out. After I disposed of one. the others got the idea that it might not be a good idea to come out, and I got tired of waiting.

What to do now?

I was coming back down the stairs when I noticed a can of THRUST. For those of you not familiar with the product, THRUST is starting fluid for your car. Ifthe car is a little reluctand to start becuse you haven't run it for a while, spray some THRUST in the carb and it will probably start. It is basically ether in a spray can. HMMMM. Ether is also an anesthetic.

Spray the THRUST in the burrow. Wait for a couple of minutes, then drop a match. Whoomp!

I haven't seen a rat since.

BWAAHAAAHHAAA (evil laugh)!

Creepy Crawlies

I was talking about centipides and why the give me the creeps. I also mentioned earwigs. They give me the willies.

I think this is because of a Twilight Zone episode I saw way back when (in black and white). There was a guy who was in South America for whatever reason. I don't remember that part of the plot. What I do remember is someone dropped an earwig in his right ear as he was sleeping. Then they did something to drive it in. The guy ended up in the hospital, where they mornitored what was happening. The earwig was eating its was through his brain in an effort to find a way out.
The last scene is one of those good news/bad news scenes:

"The good news is that the earwig has come out the other side and you seem to be doing fine.
The bad news is it was female, and laid eggs."

It totally freaked me out. I was probably about 8 or 9 at the time, and that has stuck with me all this time.

I still can't stand earwigs.

STAR

STAR Chapter VI is now available. PQ if you stop by you should read chapter V, as you make a cameo appearance as the young STAR.

And the Survey Says......

I aced my assessment yesterday, so I can continue to fool around in the computing system, creating havoc wherever I go. I hate the pressure, because if you don't pass the test, they take your security away and you can't do part of the job. No pressure or anything!
When I got back from the test, there was an e-mail from Mes A. telling me that the Mercedes had blown up in the parking lot where she works. Since none of them are mechanically competent, I didn't know what to expect. I figured it must have thrown a rod or something terrible.
So when I got off work, I went down with N. to look at the car. Much to my relief, there was no large puddle of fluids under the car. Furthermore, when I grabbed the fan belt and reefed on it I could turn the engine over by hand, so it wasn't frozen or anything. N. got in the car and turned the key and nothing happened, so I started tracing wires, and it turned out that the hot wire from the key had fallen against the exhaust manifold and the insulation melted off, causing a dead short. They had also somehow lost the needle valve out of the carburetor so it was leaking gas. When they turned the key over, gas + spark= exposion.
So I did a quick fix on the wire, scrounged a screw, put it back together, and we drive it home. Took less than an hour. Unfortunately it is not driveable until I can scrounge up a needle valve for the carburetor, Or mabe barely driveable. I tried to get it running and retime it last night, but with the needle valve missing, I cant keep it running long enough to get the timing light on it.
Geuss I know what I'll be doing after work tonight.

Inquisition

I have a yearly assessment I need to take today to maintain my security level for working in one of the computer systems. It is a giant pain in the ass. I have not worked in that system in over two years, but I am due to rotate out of my present position the first of July, so it would be a good idea to have all the tools in my tool box.
I have enjoyed working as a Pit Boss for the last year and a half, but they are rotating this slot to second shift as of the first of July, so I told them to go ahead and rotate the hell out if it, but since I was a volunteer, they could rotate it without me. With all the extra people at home right now it would not be right to go to second shift and leave everything on Mrs A. Personally, it would be a way to get out of a lot of the crap, but it just wouldn't be fair.
So it's off to the dungeon for the red hot pinchers and thumb screws for the rest of the day.

MOANDAY

Just thought I'd get my whine out of the way first. I have a little trouble getting started on Monday. A 20 oz. Diet Coke with lime usually jump starts the day. What did people do before caffeine?

This weekend I moved my library from the basement to upstairs. Five bookcases and about 1,000 books. It took me all day Saturday to sort them and get them in the shelves. I surplused 3 bags of surplus books.

Mrs A. and I got into it yesterday over the Mercedes. It has a few minor problems. It needs a little TLC, but I bought the car, that doesn't mean I am going to buy all of the parts and provide all of the labor to work on it. Yesterday the muffler came loose, so it sounded like a tank coming into the driveway. She came screaming out of the bedroom yelling "DO YOU HEAR THAT CAR? IT SOUNDS LIKE CRAP!"
So naturally I yelled right back at her "IF YOU DON"T LIKE IT I WILL TAKE IT BACK AND YOU CAN BUY THEM A FUC%$#@ CAR YOURSELF!" Sometimes it seems that God lets no good deed go unpunished.
So the muffler came loose. big ripping deal. It will cost under $5.00 to fix and take maybe an hour. Trouble is Mrs A. knows nothing about cars, so everything is a disaster. The car dies because the idle is too low, and it is imminent disaster. It takes all of 30 seconds to turn up the idle screw. The timing is a little to far advanced, so It pops back up the carb. I haven't had time to adjust it yet, but the only thing that it could hurt had already happened before we got the car. It blew off the air cleaner and put a dimple in the hood. I'll get to it when I can.
So by bedtime cooler heads prevailed and everything was better, but I sure get tired of everyone checking under my sweatshirt to see if there is a big red "S" on my teeshirt.

Demons

In my post yesterday one of the words I was talking about was Demons. You know, the things that live in the closet in the back of your head. The ones that you really have no control over. I have seen otherwise controlled and rational people lose control over something like a bee, or a spider. I really don't have that many. As I mentioned I have a fear of going blind, but that is not usually on that sets me off, except if you knock my glasses off. I will flat kick you ass for that. It all has to do with feeling vulnerable.

One of the things that gives me the willies is centipedes. When I was overseas, I was sitting on an ancient coral wall at Nagagusuku castle, when something bit me in the ass. I rose to the occasion and saw a centipede about a foot long and as big around as your little finger come out of a hole in the wall. I did an inspired tap dance on his little forehead.

About 20 minutes later I turned white as a sheet, began sweating profusely and shivering. Since we all were medical personnel, they all knew what to do, but no one would suck the poison out, so they rushed me to the hospital, where they gave me a shot of epinephrin and benedryl (I think). I was in the hospital for a couple of days. The doctors said that the poison from that variety of centipede is about as venomous as rattlesnake venom. So centipedes give me the creepy crawlies.

And don't get me started on Earwigs.

Stuff and Nonsense

I declined the opportunity to go to work yesterday. I hadn't slept well in several days, and just got so tired I couldn't get up. I just rolled over and went back to sleep. Got up long enough to call in, and turned around and went back to bed. I didn't get out of the sack until 11:15. It was wonderful.

After I got up, the day was pretty hectic. The kids wanted to move from their present room an the top floor to a bigger room in the basement. The only problem was that the room in the basement was crammed full of stuff, mostly Ls stuff, but a little of mine and some of Mrs A.s. My main thing was that I had five book cases stuffed to overflowing with books, and so was the room they were moving out of. So with a log jam at both ends, where do you begin?

With the dump, of course. That and Goodwill. Mission mostly accomplished. I still have to make a trip to the dump, but stuff moved out of the way. Next empty the book cases. I must have about 1,000 books, so it is no small task. Plus one of the book cases is too big to fit around the corner going up the circular staircase, so we had to bring it up with ropes over the balcony off of out bedroom. We got all of the books upstairs and moved the book cases out of the way, then we had to move the stuff downstairs. The box springs was to big to go around the corner of the circular staircase, so over the balcony it goes. It's a whole lot easier getting things down than up, gravity doing most of the work.

The kids should finish it up today.

Now for the nonsense. L. is on welfare (Actually she is on ADC, but it amounts to the same thing). DSHS sent her a letter telling her that they were cutting off her benefits because they couldn't locate her. Now wait just a minute. If they couldn't find her, how did they know where to send the letter, and why do they call her and talk to her on the phone? Talk about the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing!

"D" is for.........

I was over at daphnewood and she was doing this thing where you take a letter of the alphabet and write 10 words down that start with the letter and explain what each on means to you. So she gave me the letter "D".

1) Delight: We should all never lose our sense of delight in the world. There is a whole universe of delight in a single flower. All we have to do is see it.

2) Destiny: A word that always sends me off on a mental trip. Are we determinate creatures? Do we have free will, or are we destined to a certain end?

3) Determination: One of my better character traits. Pure talent without determination gets you nowhere. Intelligence without determination gets you in the door, but no more.

4) Definistrate: Just because I like the word. It means to commit a political act of assisination by throwing someone out of a window. Another of my cache of useless information.

5) Demons: We all have them. Those things that live in the back closet of your head, and only come out at night. I have a great fear of going blind. Part of this is because I have terrible eyesight and part of it is because both my dad and grandfather went blind from Macular degeneration, so I think it is probably enevitable. If I can't read I'll go nuts.

6) Deck: I need to put a new deck on the house this summer. The old one is pretty rotten, and if I don't someone is going to fall through. This is the last major project I have left on the house. After this it will be in good enough shape to sell. But I have lived there 18 years, raised my kids there. I hate to let it go.

7) Dugout: AAHHH the days of summer when I played on baseball teams. I was always borderline first string. When I was hot I played a quite a bit, when I was cold I spent considerable amount of time in the dugout. I normally played second base, but I occasionally pitched. Lots of fond memories.

8) Dairy: My family ran a dairy in Northern Idaho. It is no longer in the family, but I have lots and lots of wonderful memories of the Farm. I have blogged some about them, and you can rest assured there will be more.

9) Dark: A lot of people are afraid of the dark, but I actually enjoy it. It is peaceful and quiet, and in general you aren't disturbed a lot. I like to sit out on the deck after dark and think.

10) Dog: Just because daphnewood said cat. I like dogs, but I also like cats, fish, birds, reptiles. At one time or another I have had a lot of different kinds of pets. Right now we only have one: Molly the shi-tzu. She is mainly Mrs A's baby, but I love her too.

So there we have my version of the letter "D".

If you want to use the concept, have at it, or leave a comment and if you ask nice, I will give you your very own letter of the alphabet.

Chapter V

Chapter V of

STAR is now available.

Monday: BLAH

I almost played hookey today, but I knew we had a Southwest airplane in our day today, and we have done so many of them that pretty much all of the bugs have been worked out. But I might take off Friday, since it is a down day.

I hope all you Mothers out there had a wonderful day yesterday. I dropped off a basket of begonias at my moms, and spent the rest of the day with Mrs A. I cooked a Pork Loin for her (her choice). Baked in the oven with a cranberry chutney glaze. It came out absolutely perfect. It all disappeared in very short order.

So Green Jean is home now. The car is so butt ugly it is cute. So far it hasn't had any problems, other than the fact it has a mechanical choke, and L. had never even SEEN a mechanical choke before, the result of which is she has flooded the car a couple of times, and I had to go out and get it started. The kids were driving it around all weekend. They tell me it is a real head turner. I kinda hate giving it up.

Well, grit your teeth, gird your loins and put your shoulder to the wheel...............

The Mercedes

So here is a picture of the 1972 Mercedes I went and looked at last night. Not a very good picture. I didn't take enough money with me to pay for it last night, so I have to go back tonight to complete the deal.

The good stuff: The body is almost perfect, only one small crease in the passengers side rear door. No rust. It appears that it had 76,000 original miles on it. It starts and runs, does not smoke. It is all there, and most things work. It has collector car plates, so you don't have to pay for tabs ever. It is old enough that it is exempt from emissions regulations.

The not so good stuff: The speedometer is broken. It has a very distinct vibration starting at about 40 miles an hour. It isn't real bad, but it is noticeable. It is missing one hubcap. The dash is absolute crap, and will need to have something done immediately. The glove box only works with the key, the latch being broken. The headliner is beginning to sag, the trim in the back seat is bad. And face it, these cars a butt ugly in a cute sort of way.

I think I will call her Green Jean.

Car Quest.

I spent a good bit of time yesterday perusing craiglist looking at cars. L & N cannot do much of anything without a car, and they have been borrowing one of mine to run errands and stuff. Since L got her drivers license, they are legal, but they have no car insurance. My Insurance will cover if it is an emergency. It would cost me around $250.00 a month to add them to my insurance. All indicators are that they will be with us for three or four months, so it would cost me $750 to $1000 to cover their insurance. Much better to take that money and go buy them a car that will get them around.

So, I am supposed to go look at a car tonight. It is a 1972 Mercedes 280 with a stick shift. There isn't supposed to have anything wrong with it. Don't think I'll believe that is true. It is $650, so if it is not at deaths door, it should do just fine. Those old Mercedes' are good for a lot of miles, as long as maintenance is taken care of. I'll have to take a real close look at it.

Mrs A. is going in to the doctors for a pre-op check with the Podiatrist, so I may be going alone.

Not just another Hump Day

It is a sad day in Alville today.

L. is going in to have her pregnancy terminated today. She has had three miscarriages and one stillborn, and this pregnancy is threatening her life. She has been into the emergency room several times. She gets so sick she can't hold anything down, even water. So she gets dehydrated and her blood pressure goes through the roof, and she ends up in the Emergency Room on an IV until they can get her stabilized.

I am basically pro-life. If you don't want the child, give it up for adoption. There are thousands of caring loving people out there who for whatever reasons, can't have kids of there own. They would give just about anything to adopt a healthy baby. In this case, With L.s life at risk, I think it is justified, but it is still a sad day.

The ants are coming!, The ants are coming.!

L is such a little drama queen. She is about 23 years old, but a lot of the time she acts like she is about 12.
The other day she was going into the closet to get out some shoes and she started screeching that there was a Carpenter Ant "Nest" in the closet> Took everything out of the closet and found one ant wandering around looking confused. I put an ant poison bait in the closet just in case. I have a reason for disliking carpenter Ants.

When my son was small we lived in a house that was originally built for the supervisors of the Renton Coal mine. The house predated electricity and running water, so all of the amenities were add-on. Some of the work was pretty bad. When we first found this house, it was condemned because of the septic system. I dug a new drain field for the septic system, and the department of health declared it fit for Human habitation.

It had Two bedrooms upstairs and one down. We decided to take the upstairs, and gave N. the downstairs.

One morning I was jerked out of a sound sleep by N. Bellowing "The carpet's moving, the carpets moving!!!!"

I ran downstairs turned on the light, and sure as shit the carpet WAS moving. A section about 18" square was pulsing up and down. I couldn't believe my eyes. I knew of nothing that could make the carpet pulse up and down like that.

With my heart in my throat and my hands trembling I eased over to the corner of the carpet and flipped it back.

There was a mass of Carpenter Ants several inches thick under the carpet, and they seemed to be trying to move the carpet out of their way. It was really creepy.

At any rate I flipped the carpet back over and did an inspired flamenco on the carpet. After several minutes I ran out of energy and stopped, and pulled back the carpet. The ants were dead or stunned or injured. I quick ran down to the lawn and garden store and bought some ant killer and spread it around. Trouble was I never knew where they had come from.

WHen I bought our current house, there was the stump of an old cherry tree on the property line with the house next door. It has a carpenter ant nest in it. I didn't notice it at first, but R. Pointed it out to me. I went out and she showed me a trail of ants heading towards my house. I told her I would give her a penny a piece for all the ants she could kill. She made a couple of dollars by the time I got the stump pulled and the infestation taken care of. I still see an occasional Carpenter Ant,, but I can't find where they are coming from.

In the back of my head I am still hearing my son screaming "The carpet's moving, the carpets moving!!!!!!"

Cinco de Mayo

Most people don't know that back in 1912, Hellmann's mayonnaise was manufactured in England.
In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Vera Cruz, Mexico,
which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York. This would have been the largest single shipment of mayonnaise ever delivered to Mexico.
But as we know, the great ship did not make it to New York.
The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost. The people of Mexico, who were crazy about mayonnaise,
and were eagerly awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss.
Their anguish was so great, that they declared a National Day of Mourning, which they still observe to this day. The National Day of Mourning occurs each year on May 5th and is known, of course,
as
Sinko de Mayo.

WHAT?!?!???

Sorry about that. I know this is a repeat, but I just couldn't help myself. A really bad joke bears repeating.

Shoes

Mrs A. is going to have to have to have foot surgery at the end of the month. We just had this confirmed on Monday. Like a lot of women, she has tortured her feet for years by wearing shoes that are ergonomic disasters. I have never understood women and their obsession with shoes.
I understand that you can't wear the same pair of shoes to church that you use to work in the garden, and probably need a different pair for fishing, and maybe one other pair for running, but the point of each of these is utility. They have to be comfortable and perform the function for which they are used.
Women can never have enough shoes. The closet may be stuffed with shoes, but when the adds come with the Sunday newspaper, ZZZIIIPPP they are all over the shoe adds. "Kicky little strap back open toed semisandals" in pastel colors nonetheless! Oh rapture.
I just don't get it.
Here Mrs A. is going in to have surgery, and all she is worried about is her shoes.. She is going around muttering "$%%^&&* sensible shoes", or ^%&*^%*&% orthopedic shoes".
Oh well, I guess that is one of the reasons women will always be mysteries to us male types.

By the way, chapter IV of STAR is out there is anyone cares to read it.

The Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch

When I dropped out of college, I went to work for Automix Keyboards in Bellevue, Wa. They manufactured information feed keyboards for phototypesetters. They were one of the first in the US to use computer-in-a-chip technology. I ran a flow solder machine and did general machine repair and maintenance for a printed circuit board assembly area. The firm was very high tech for it's time. They had a Dee System 8 flow solder machine that was so advanced it wasn't even on the market yet. They had bought it as a prototype off the floor of a trade fair. It was a very well designed and efficient machine.

The keyboards were all Reed Switch actuated, and very robust, but pretty expensive. They were combined with the interface machine that allowed a single person to produce a multiple font, multi-color document, like a small newspaper, from a single terminal. Basically you can do the same thing from any computer now, but at the time it was innovative.

Our product was expensive. The same technology that is included in every computer available for desktop publishing cost about $20,ooo.oo at the time.

The consoles we made produced tape, Magnetic tape or paper punch tape similar to Telex tape, which was then fed into the actual phototypesetter.

I was staying late, repairing the pump in a Freon cleaning system that had a bearing go bad, and ran into one of the head Engineers. I asked him what he was doing there so late. He was literally pacing the floor and muttering to himself. "Waiting for the @#$%^&* punches to come in."

"What punches are those?" I asked.

"The Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch" he replied.

"What the heck do they have to do with Phototypesetters?"

"You know how the Keyboards and consoles work?"

"Sure, they use magnetic or paper tape to feed instructions to the Phototypesetters."

"When you are making a paper tape, each letter of the alphabet is represented by a combination of holes in the tape .Little pins feeding through holes in the paper tape to read the combinations. If you make a mistake, you have to correct the tape by manually punching out the line on the tape, creating a null. When we designed the machine, we had to have a unique size and shape of punch to null out the holes in the paper tape. On of the guys had a punch that he had laying around the garage, so we used that. We started up the business with that one punch, and we found someone to produce additional punches."

When we went to Patent out system, they found that the punch we were using was already patented. That particular size and shape of punch was patented by the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch Co. and we were infringing on their patent."

The only address for the Perkins Co. was a P.O. box in rural Georgia. No phone, no address. The company sent a representative to Georgia to meet with Mr. Perkins. He lived in a modest shack out in the swamps. The punch was used to make a small hole between the tendon and bone in a chicken's leg so that they could be hung upside down for processing at the chicken processing plant. It had been invented by his dad as a young man, and every chicken processing plant had to have several. Replacement kept him as busy as he wanted to be, and he could work at his own pace. He made punches according to his own whim and time table.

If he wanted to buy a new pair of shoes, he could make up a couple of punches and mail them out to whoever was on the top of the order list, buy whatever he wanted, and stop until he needed something else.

Was he willing to sell the patent? Absolutely not, he had regular customers who depended on his product.

Would he allow us to manufacture the punches and pay him royalties? Absolutely not. He didn't trust us to maintain the quality control he infused in each and every Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch. What if inferior examples found their way on to the market place? What would people think? How could he trust us to faithfully report how many we produced?

So we were stuck with Mr Perkins. He produces the Punches at his leisure, and mails them out when he feels like it.

Here we were, sitting there with 10 completed units sitting on the loading dock, waiting for the punches to come in. We had no way of contacting Mr. Perkins except through his P.O. box, and no way to lean on him to step up his production.

I have always wanted to invent something like the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch that would give me the independence to thumb my nose at the world, live off the grid, and have just enough to meet my needs as long as I didn't need too much.

Gone

I am in a computing class today and tomorrow, so I won't be around to BLOG much, just on breaks or lunch. However, I am working on something for Wednesday, a mildly amusing story about the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch.

Hijacking

Someone hijacked my hit counter!

This is not the first time this has happened. In this case the counter content disappeared, but the box was still there. When I went into the template, the content had been replaced. If you clicked on the box in my blog, it took you to some travel site.

A pox on you, hit counter hijacker, whoever you are!

So I loaded a new one. No big deal, just a little irritating.

Handyman

Which is, of course a song by Roy Orbison.
Mrs. A. and I like rotissory chicken. We get one a couple of times a week. It is real convenient and tasty. About half the time we use the leftover chicken to make Chicken Caesar salad. This prompted Mrs A. to go out and buy a rotissory oven on Tuesday. Only problem was, that there was no outlet available to plug it in to.

Last night she comes in the door, and says "There is a box out in the car". The box is about 4' X 2' X 18" and weighs about 60 lbs. Being male and stubborn, I did not wait for someone to take the other end of the box, and consequently strained a muscle in my shoulder. The one I had operated on last October. I had already irritated it moving equipment at Echo Glen.

So I was faced with a sideboard cabinet/table to assemble. I am very good at that sort of thing, but it still took me two and a half hours to get it together. Mrs A. piped up when I was mostly done and said "You know there were two similar cabinets, and I think maybe the other matches the kitchen cabinets better". I made a very threatening gesture with the screwdriver.

I know she was just jerking my chain.

I woke at about 2:00 this morning with my shoulder killing me, and from there on just kinda drifted in and out. I had the wierdest dream, all about how I was supposed to be planning a wedding, and everything I did turned out all wrong. I don't even know whose wedding it was supposed to be.

Wierd.

Jumping to Conclusions

So we had a little disagreement at Alplace. Stepdaughter, boyfriend and Grandkid are living with us. They have been evicted three times in the last year, and have finally ended up with us. The arrangement is supposed to be temporary. We will see.
At any rate I know that they use drugs. When they were in Lakewood and we would visit, there would be paraphenalia and evidence laying around. What they do in their own place and time are not my immediate concern, but what they do in My place and MY time is.
I was sittin in the living room watching the tube on Monday, and a young dude that I have never seen starts walkin up the front walk. Nyk jumps up and goes outside and hands him what appears to be a joint. When Nyk comes back in, I ask him "Did you just deal dope out of my house? Because if you did you can pack your shit and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out". He told me it was not dope, just a hand rolled cigarette, and produced a bag of tobacco and papers. They got all huffy about they would not disrespect me by doing such a thing.
I pointed out that they had disrespected me enough to smoke pot on my front deck on Sunday, so it was only a small step. I think they were a little shocked that I knew. They of course blamed it on someone else. I just told them that I wanted to make it ABSOLUTELY CLEAR that if they stay with us, there would be no dope in my house or on my premises.

That aside, I went home after work yesterday and cut up a couple of pound of boneless skinless frier breast and put them on skewers with onion, green pepper and pineapple, basted them liberally with teriyaki sauce and sizzled them on the BBQ. Oh man, was that good.

Chapter III

Chapter III of my book is over at

STAR

for your perusal and approval or amusal and refusal. The pictures of the trip to Echo Glen didn't come out all that great. My digital camera definitely doesn't like low light. Also, we were not allowed to take pictures during the performance because if we included one of the kids in a picture, it would be a violation of their rights.

At any rate, they kinda show the process from truck to stage to sound check, to light check. The process took about five hours, which is real good time.

Over the winter John made a wiring harness for the lights, all taped up and numbered. It worked real slick, saved us a couple of hours of setup and breakdown.

PICS

Monday's Missives

I'm sore this morning. Mrs A. and I went with the band (

Morning Light

) to Echo Glen. Echo Glen is a Childrens Facility about a half hour East of Seattle, up in the mountains. Beautiful location. It currently housed just short of 200 juvenile guests of the state. Everything from drug charges to murder.
The band is all recovering druggies and alcoholics, and their message is that you can have a whole lot of fun without drugs and alcohol. It is also a Christian message. I really believe that it is the right message to the right audience at the right time. If we can help one kid turn his/her life around it is worth everything we put into it.
Mrs. A. and I have been doing this for a couple of years now, and it is a lot of work, and performing for the incarcerated is not the happiest venue. The band has 11,000 Lbs. of gear, and it takes several hours to set up a full light show and sound system. Bi the time we load up the truck, drive to where the show is, do the show, break down the set and load everything back in the truck, it is usually a 20 hour day or so.
The weather was very cooperative, everything went smoothly, and we had a good time.
Yesterday was so beautiful that I was forced to break out the BBQ for the first time this year. I BBQ'd a rolled rump roast. It was delicious. I insist on charcoal and a WEBER. Otherwise I will not be held responsible for the results. Let's let the fact that there were no leftovers for me to take to lunch today speak for itself.
No pictures yet. I haven't had time to transfer them from camera to computer.

Another Fine Mess

Which was always the line out of Laurel and Hardy, who were comedic geniuses. One of the few really good teams, and they managed to make the transition from silent film to the "Talkies".

I took yesterday off, because all hell broke loose the night before. The Ex is getting evicted from her apartment for not paying the rent. She quit working, just because she didn't feel like working. The former in-laws were trying to get R. to take her mother in. R. is living in a one bedroom apartment, and has a room mate (female) who sleeps on the couch. There is no room for her mom, which would violate the conditions of the lease.

R. doesn't want that side of the family to hate her, but there is no way she can be responsible for her mom (who is crazy). Her grampa had come over and asked her if her mom could't stay with her, and she didn't want to just say no. So she calls me up to figure out how to tell him no without there being any hurt feelings.

She is on the phone with me, in tears, and her mom shows up and is pounding on the door demanding to be let in.

The ex is being evicted today. Her dad has secured a storage unit for her things. She has no place to go and she has alienated all her immediate family to the point that they want nothing to do with her. I arranged for R. to pick up her mail. and told grandpa to back off. If that side of the family wants so bad to take care of her, let them rent her a house. The have the money.

Oh what the hell.

Tomorrow Mrs. A. and I go with the band for a gig at Echo Glen Youth Facility. It will be a lot of hard work and a lot of fun, and maybe something good comes from it. I'll try and get some pictures to post.

Nothing going on here

About the only thing going on here, is I have to go in and change the title on a truck I got for free. That's right zero, zip, zilch, nada. This will be the third trip to the DMV to try to get the title to the truck.

It was pulled out of a field. It was last licensed in 1998, and hadn't been used in a quite a while. It is a 1984 Ford F25o with a small block V8. No rustout, and only a little surface rust. And a collection of normal dents and scratches.

A family of mice had taken residence in the glove box, and had chewed up the old registrations into mouse confetti. I did manage to salvage a scrap that had the VIN number on it, which agreed with the number on the vehicle. So trip number one to the DMV. Could they give me the title? Not without a release from the registered owner. I didn't have any idea who that was, so could they provide me with the information? Oh no, you have to fill out for QXZ5678 Public discolsure form to get that information. I did, and the registered owner filed for a lost title, which she signed over to me. DMV visit number two.

I'm sorry, but you have no bill of sale. But I have a notarized statement that the title was lost, signed by the registered owner? Does this not strongly inply that they are releasing their interrest in the vehicle? Besides they gave me the truck for hauling it away! Oh, then you need a gift card.

The lady that was the last registered owner was nice enough to send me a bill of sale for $50.00, since I paid her daughter to bring the truck over to the house.

I now have $150.00 into the truck, have not gotten title to it, it does not run, it is not licensed and has not passed emission inspection.

Maybe free is not always a good thing.

Welcome to the Monkey House

Which is by the way a title to a book by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

It also describes our home lately.

Step-daughter L. and her companion and out grandkid are in the middle of finding new accommodations. So they are now residing in the spare bedroom. The last time this was tried, it ended in disaster. Mrs. A. and her daughter should not attempt to live under the same roof.

We helped them move on Saturday. They had been sharing a two bedroom appartment with another young couple, and it didn't work, so they came to us. Robert Frost in "The Death of the Hired Man" says "Home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in" . Right on brother!

While we were moving, I took a load out to the Blazer, and when I came back to find Mrs. A. out in the hallway, looking upset. I overheard L. yelling "You don't disrespect MY mom!". I went to Mrs. A. and asked "Can I go in there and kick his ass?" I really really wanted to. But she told me to calm down and not bring myself down to his level, so I had to forego the pleasure.

I was ready. I mean I was not happy with the kids moving in, I was not happy about having to move them in the pouring rain, and I sure as HELL wasn't happy with their punk room mate disrespecting my wife. I still thik I should have gone in there and made his nose point in a different direction.

Sunday was Easter so I went to Church to keep centered. I was in dire need of some Churchifyin'. Everyone survived so it must have worked.

Chapter Two

I have always enjoyed writing and telling stories. One morning a couple of years ago I awoke with a name in my head. Starling Albright Parker. I have no idea where this name came from. I don't know anyone with any one of these three names or anything close to them. So I began to wonder what I should do with this.
I began by making her a family tree, some physical and psychological traits. I started writing a story, but it had to be written from a male viewpoint, since I am, and that's the way I think. I have messed around with this for several years and it has gone all over the place. I am now trying to get it all into shape. So here is Chapter Two :

STAR

Bad News

Perhaps some of you out there did not get your anticipated visit from the Easter Bunny this weekend. Unconfirmed sources close to the White (Rabbit) House leaked this picture, and I felt honor bound to report as news the alleged death of a certain white rabbit.

TGTS

I can't just say TGIF, because today being Friday means nothing in and of itself. It is the fact that tomorrow is Saturday that is relevant. So Thank God Tomorrow's Saturday.

I woke up at 3:00 this morning, convinced that today was Saturday. I was snuggling back down for another bout of sleep, when this nagging little voice in my head said "If today is Saturday, what happened to Friday?" When I couldn't produce a single memory of anything happening, I heard Mrs A. stirring and new she was also awake, so I asked her "Is today Saturday?"

"No."

Crap.

Not a good way to start the day out. Next thing I knew, the alarm was making this rude noise.

This weekend is Easter, the second most important Christian Holiday. The whole thing doesn't hang together without Easter. If Christ didn't rise from the grave, he was just a very astute man and an amazing philosopher. Without the resurrection He is still the most influential Philosopher of all time, but falls short of Godhood. The whole shape of history and society turns on this single event.

I am cooking a pork tenderloin glazed with cranberry chutney with asparagus and a salad for Easter. Lots of people are coming, but I like to keep it casual, so any time after lunch people are welcome.

Happy Easter everyone!

Habits

I was thinking this morning (a chancy proposition at any time). I was pondering about awareness, and the limiting factor of intelligence on awareness.
The reason I got on this subject is that this is one of those mornings when I kinda stumble around mumbling semi-coherently and suddenly I am at work, without a whole lot of memory of what happened in between. A lot of the time we operate on this semi-conscious level where we are on automatic pilot. We form habits so we don't have to think about stuff. Studies in Hypnotism suggest that on a subconsious level we are aware of a whole lot more going on around us than we actually know. When hypnotized, some people can recall things at a great level of detail, in fact more detail than they would have been able to describe when they were experiencing the moment.
It has been suggested that our mind is aware of everything going on around us, and that it is the chore of consciousness to limit out awareness to those things we need to deal with. Some psychological studies go on to say that really intelligent people are able to further limit their outside perceptions to the point where they can concentrate on a single concept or idea to the exclusion of almost all outside input.
If this is indeed true, then the super intelligent must be able to exclude even the thing that they started out to concentrate on, thereby making themselves oblivious. Certain asian philosophies are built around this concept, and where you experience the state of truely being unaware of your own ego, you are in a state of oneness of the universe.
So when I was stumbling around this morning I must have been a genius guru.

Picture

The picture I included in yesterday's post has been published by our local TV News Station on their website. They have a page called "Weatherpics" off of the weather home page at KING5.com where they publish weather related pictures. At any rate, I submitted mine, and they included it. I guess that is my 15 seconds of fame.
On other news, I have started another blog STAR . I have been working on this novel on and off for several years when the urge hit me. As an incentive for me to get off of my dead ass and do something with it, I started this other blog, where I will publish it one chapter at a time. First I had to edit it to divide it into chapters, and then I will polish each chapter before I publish it. I just published Chaper One.
Go ahead and click on it.
You know you want to.

Avenging Angel

So double click on the picture to make it larger.

Right over the top of the pole you will see Washington's State Bird, the mosquito, only this one is the size of a hang glider.

The picture was found in the memory stick in a digital camera next to a exsanguinated corpse. There were small puncture wounds above the carotid artery. It has been rumored for years that there was a new variety of mosquito in the area, but this is the first photographic evidence of it's existence.

First observed by Pat O'Neil, he reported "At first I thought it was an angel." Well, Pat it may be an angel, but a blood sucking Avenging Angel.

Seriously, though. I took this lovely sunset picture at Lake Quinault last Friday. I liked it so much I decided to make it my wallpaper on my computer. When I did, you can imagine my surprise at what showed up. Some times I think it ruins what is otherwise a perfect picture, but other times I think it is what makes the picture special.

A real lesson in perspective, in more than one way.

Cinco de Mayo

Most people don't know that back in 1912, Hellmann's mayonnaise was manufactured in England.
In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Vera Cruz, Mexico,
which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York. This would have been the largest single shipment of mayonnaise ever delivered to Mexico.
But as we know, the great ship did not make it to New York.
The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost. The people of Mexico, who were crazy about mayonnaise,
and were eagerly awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss.
Their anguish was so great, that they declared a National Day of Mourning, which they still observe to this day. The National Day of Mourning occurs each year on May 5th and is known, of course,
as
Sinko de Mayo.

WHAT?!?!???

Pictures from Lake Quinault

Skunk cabage
A native American boat house
The dock at sunset
The Main Lodge
The Boat House
The fishing dock in the afternoon

Below is the view towards the Lake, down the side of the Boat house

At The Lake

It appears I have told an untruth.

Not a lie mind you, a lie being the intentional telling of an untruth. I told an untruth, but it was not intentional. This does not mean that I might not occasionally present the truth from my own unique perspective, just that in this case, it was unintentional.

The more perceptive of you will have already figured out what I am talking about.

In my buildup of The Lake Quinalt Lodge I said there was no WIFI. Since I am here typing on my BLOG, that must not be true. I brought along my laptop to work on a book I am writing, and (let's be honest) play games. When I fired it up, a message came on that there was a signal available, and did I want to use it. Heck yes!

Friday when we got here the temperature was up in the 60's the sun was shining,and it was gorgeous. For this time of year that is exceptional. We were tired fron work and tired from the trip so we went to the room and took a nap, then went for a short walk and went to dinner. I had the prime rib, she had the Salmon, and we had a bottle of Asti with dinner. When we finished I walked around and took some pictures of the Lodge the Lake and the Sunset. Some of them are good enough to share, which I can't do at the moment, since I forgot the adaptor from the camera to the laptop, which I figured I wouldn't need since I would have no Internet connection.

Today we went on a hike of about three and a half miles, mostly up and down. Mrs A has better legs, but I have better lungs, but we both did pretty well. I am a little stiff and sore this evening.

The other things we did, while they might be interesting, are not going to be shared. Suffice it to say people might wonder just why the people in 303 seem to always keep the shades drawn.

Of course this is the Rain Forest, so you can guess what it has done all day, but it hasn't bothered us, after all we came prepared with rain gear. And when in the unit, the sound of rain on the roof is very cozy and restful, since we don't have to go out in it.

Wait a minute?!

What's that?

You want to WHAT???

Guess I'd better sign off for now!

Temporarily Disfunctional

This is my current wallpaper on my computer at work. If all is well, I will be there tomorrow. That is the Amazing Mrs A. in the picture. In the background is Lake Irene in the Olympic National Park. It is a moderate hike of about a mile off of the road up the North Fork of the Quinault River. This day was perfect for hiking, so we had gone up the trail several miles, and stopped in at the Lake on out way back.

It was very serene there. There was a herd of Elk grazing in the rushes on the other side of the lake. A bumblebee landed on my knee, and sat there and let me pet him for several minutes. We did not see or hear another human being for the hour or so we stopped there.

It is interesting that women always want to know who the woman is in the picture, men always want to know where the lake is. Guess we are just wired differently.

So mybrain is leaving on vacation now, soon to be followed by the rest of me. I wont be posting for a couple of days, since there are no amenities like wifi or cable connections. The Lodge does not have television, and there are no phones in the rooms. There is no cell phone service. I will probably take my laptop along just in case I want to write on my book, but doubt I will accomplish anything. I am reading George R.R. Martins "A Feast for Crows" so it will be my first choice of activities after hiking and eating and naughty stuff (not necessarily in that order).

I'm taking the camera. hope to bring back some good pictures.

NO NOT OF THE NAUGHTY STUFF!!!!!!!

Lake Quinault

I remember a morning at the Lodge so clearly, it is a part of a little mental slide show I carry around in my head.

I had gotten up at 6:00 in the morning. We were staying in the Boathouse, so I went out on the veranda. It seemed like I was the only one in the world awake. The dew was heavy on the grass and there was just the faint smell of woodsmoke in the air.

I sat in a wicker chair and smoked a cigarette. It was so calm that the smoke barely drifted in the morning breeze. I blew a smoke ring and it held together for a long time as it drifted south.

Smoke finished, I got up and wandered down to the dock on Lake Quinault. The water was so calm it looked like a sheet of glass. Small fish were rising to the morning hatch, dimpling the surface here and there. Out in the middle of the lake, a bit of surface fog slowly drifted across the water. The far shore of the lake was obscured, cleared, was obscured. It was absolutely quiet.

I turned back to look at the Lodge and the rise of the lawn. Nothing moved. A sole set of footprints dotted the lawn. Mine.

I caught a suggestion of movement off to my left and watched as a pair of carp came out of the shadows, moving South, working the shallows. The must have been six or seven ounds apiece, moving with no effort, drifting along.

I heard a noise behind me, sounding like a splatter of rain and as I turned, caught the shimmer of a school of small fish jumped in a wave, a lot like when fans do "The Wave" at sports events. The wave of fingerlings jumping started at the North and went South. This was repeated multiple times, accompanied by a "Whish" sound as they jumped. No doubt there was a larger fish below them looking for his breakfast. I stood there, absolutely still, drinking in the moment.

Eventually all was still, and I wandered back up to the Boat House, and slipped in, to see you laying there, faint hint of a smile on your lips, hair spilled across the pillow.

I go back there to visit when things get cramped and complicated.

Happy Birthday Mrs A.

So today is Mrs A.'s birthday. She has now been 39 for several years, and I hope she will continue to celebrate her 39th for many years to come.

So the kids are coming over to celebrate her birthday, and it will be a hectic evening.

For her birthday, I am taking her to the Lake Quinault lodge for the weekend . No televisions or phones in the rooms. Lots of hiking trails and massive peace and quiet. Just what we both need. This is the place where we went for our first "weekender", where I proposed to her, and where we went after we were married. We have been back a several other times since. What a beautiful peaceful place. It is also out 3rd anniversary this weekend, so who knows, we may never leave the lodge.

Anyway, Happy 39th Birthday Mrs A., and many more.