Eye of the Draft Horse

Not Eye of the Tiger.

Hunched forward, with our shoulders firmly planted in the harness, head down, we plod forward.

Our task is never triumphantly complete. Each day brings another task, remarkably like yesterday's task.

Maybe there will be an extra potion of grain in our feedsack tonight. Maybe a well earned night's rest. Maybe not.

Our engines do not race the clock for time and distance.

Through sheer determination we plod. Through intertia we plod.

But behind the dull eye of the draft hourse, there is a beach..........

Abomination!

Today we have an event which threatens the very core of civilization! An event so disturbing it may shift the magnetic poles and alter reality!

OK, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration.

I am working both days this weekend, and that is a rarity. I considered it a personal success story when I could live off of my 40 hour a week salary. There are people here that work every available hour so they can buy all of the toys. Newer truck, bike, quads, boat. Upgrade the spouse.

What I don't understand is, if you are working all those hours, when do you get to play with the toys? And if you can't play with them, what good are they?

So I avoid ovetime whenever I can. But people get busy this time of year, and so I got thrown in the frying pan for this weekend. This is only the second time this tear, so I can handle it.

We have a Christmas party to go to tonight, but we will have to leave early, cause I have to get up at zero dark thirty tomorrow and rattle my chains out in the factory.

Not only do I have to be here, but they EXPECT ME TO WORK.

I can feel reality crumbling around me even as I type this............

Still Getting the Busy Signal

I sat down last night and typed up the Rules Carol and I wrote the other day, and printed them up . One copy for R. one for L., one for the refrigerator, and one to take to the therapist.

It's good to have everything all defined and set out.

I sat V. down last night and made a deal with him. He can play Warcraft, but I have his solemn promise that he will not be going over his time or getting up in the night and sneaking into the computer room to play. The agreement is that if he does it again, the game will be removed from the computer, and he will NEVER be able to play it again.

This isn't about playing a stupid RPG, it is about trust, and I explained to him that the implications go way beyond the computer. He will be eligible to get a drivers license (shudder) about a year from now, and if I can't trust him, he sure as hell can't take my car.

I have also broached the subject of Christmas Day with Mrs. A. I want to see all the kids and grandkids at Christmas, but she is still recovering from all the crap. She isn't nearly as resilient as I am. We have tabled the discussion until we go see the counselor on the 12th.

Things at work are pretty hectic as the first 737-700ER runs through the factory. They are even talking about bringing in extra support on the weekend.

Busy

Haven't had a lot of time lately to visit my blog or yours either.

I got an opportunity yesterday to buy a drill press for $50.00. A genuine industrial size 200 lb. five foot tall drill press. I have always wanted one, but they have always been a couple of hundred bucks, so when this one came up, I grabbed it. Vintage 1940s. but in perfect condition.

Today I had a meeting first thing in the morning, then the first 737-700ER loaded in Final Assembly today, and I am the designated point of contact for Electrical Problems. First of a customer/first of a model always means some emergent manufacturing problems, so I will be busy from now through at leaast the 20th, when it is supposed to roll out the door.

Gotta run, I need to put together a report on how the first day went.

SANTA"S BUTT REJECTED!

Here's what is wrong with this country. A little crASS commercialism gone awry. A special occasion brew, crafted in England for the Holidays, will not be allowed by the State of Maine to be distributed because they find it's label either objectionable, or they feel that it would appeal to minors.

I know that living way up North the way they do, it must be difficult to find things to do this time of year, but rejecting this beer for its name or label smacks of Puratinism, you know, the comcept that somebody, somewhere might be having some fun and it's not a good thing.

When I brought up the plight of the importer up to my fellow workers, they wanted to know if I had ever had any Santa's Butt. I had to admit that I was not that close with Santa.

By the way, special occasion beers are generally stored in large oak barrels called "Butt"s, so the name is a sort of twisted pun.

That's probably why it appealed to me.

Review

It was really nice seeing the Count Basie Orchestra on Saturday night.

If you like big band jazz, it was a real treat. Yeah, the music was of a different age, but it was the best there is at what it is. We had a great time. The food was good, and the music was world class.

Just what the doctor ordered.

I got out and did the repairs to my Z this morning, so it will be back on the road tomorrow. I love driving that car, and I have missed it.

Friday night Carol and I sat down and wrote out all the rules of the house. If the kids want to come here, they have to abide by the rules. It was a good exercise for us to sit down and write things out. We have discussed this a lot, but a thought is never complete until it is written down. It is also unfair to expect someone to respect a set of rules they have never seen.

So, we got it done.

Today R. came by to get some of her stuff, and I made her sit down and read the rules. Needless to say, she was not pleased. She told me she didn't love us any more and never would, she was going to change her name and move out of state.

Sounds like something a 12 year old would say.

Tough love isn't just tough on them, it is tough on us too.

Count Basie Orchestra

Count Basie Orchestra is coming to Jazz Alley this weekend.

I have made reservations for Mrs A, and I for dinner and the show.

With all of the crap we have been through recently we need and deserve to have a night out.

I'll let you know how it was.

But maybe not ALL the details.

The Count has gone on to blow some cool jazz with the celestial quior, but the band lives on.

Pick A card

You are The Hermit

Prudence, Caution, Deliberation.

The Hermit points to all things hidden, such as knowledge and inspiration,hidden enemies. The illumination is from within, and retirement from participation in current events.

The Hermit is a card of introspection, analysis and, well, virginity. You do not desire to socialize; the card indicates, instead, a desire for peace and solitude. You prefer to take the time to think, organize, ruminate, take stock. There may be feelings of frustration and discontent but these feelings eventually lead to enlightenment, illumination, clarity.

The Hermit represents a wise, inspirational person, friend, teacher, therapist. This a person who can shine a light on things that were previously mysterious and confusing.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Once Again I have stolen from Denny. If he didn't have such good stuff, I wouldn't steal it.

At the moment, it fits.

Thrill a minute

The ride to work today was a thrill a minute. If anyone was watching Monday Night Football they came to realize the word North is in Northwest.

The roads this morning are a sheet of ice. I have lived around snow most of my life, and I think today was the worst I have ever seen.

I snowed some yesterday, and then most of it melted off, Then it started up again, but the water under the smow froze up. Then some of the snow on top melted, but a cold air mass from Canada invaded from the North, and it did what they call a flash freeze. Created this nice ice sandwich with snow filling.

Maybe it is all a plot by the Canadians to take over Microsoft.

I only live four miles from work, but I live on top of the hill and work is at the bottom. Going down the hill isn't too bad unless the light changes and you have to pretend you tried to stop. I say pretend, because it is not something you have any choice in. You can try, but it ain't happening, so it makes more sense to run the light than try to stop.

Your brake pedal is not your friend. I like having a stick shift so you can use the engine as the brake without stopping the tires from rotating.

I was only out of control briefly, a couple of times, when I was testing conditions to see how things were.

They were bad.

I told Mrs. A that I didn't want her driving today. If she was dead set on going to work, call a cab. And I gave her an extra $20 to pay the cab with. Only thing ism there are no available cabs, since about a million other people had the same idea.

Stay warm, stay dry, stay safe.

SNEESH!

That's a combination of snow, sleet and slush, which is what we have on out streets right now.

It started snowing yesterday morning, snowed on and off all day, and for us quit last night about 9:00. Right here, the streets are bare and wet, but if you go a few miles North or South it is not so good.

I woke up and turned on the news to see pictures of upside down vehilcles, fender benders, and cars in ditches. Lots of school closures to the North.

V. was bitterly disappointed that Renton School District was having school today.

Mrs A. has to take her car in today, because it failed emissions testing. I knew it was going to fail, but that's OK.

So here's a little paranoia theory for all of you conspiracy theory types.

Car manufacturers have added all kids of sensors all over the car. One of them that fails all the time is the Oxygen sonsor. It reads how much oxygen there is in the exhaust, If the levels are too high, it suggests that you are not getting complete combustion.

This sensor goes bad all the time. So it tells you that it is getting bad readings. Why? Because the sensor is bad. So when you go get emissions tested the machine says you are getting an error message. Not that there is anything wrong with the way the car runs, but you are getting an error message.

So you have to get the car to the repair shop so they can replace the sensor. That will cost you a couple of hundred bucks.

Does it really change anything?

No. Well, it does change your bank ballance, but nothing else.

If you spend the money to replace the sensor, and the car still fails, you get a waiver because
you already spent X amount of dollars.

The don't charge you for the second test, so you take the first test, knowing you will fail, go get the car worked on, get it tested the second time. If it passes, cool. If it doesn't, show them your receipt, and you get a get out of jail free card, and get passed anyway.

What a crock.

Turkeytale

Blame this on Denny. After reading his blog today, I was inspired to put this together.

We raised all kinds of things on the farm.

It was primarily a dairy farm, but we raised chickens for the eggs and also for meat, pigs for the meat, cats to keep the rodent population down, dogs and horses for amusement.

One year we decided to try raising turkeys, just for the heck of it.

At that time I believed domesticated laying hens were the stupidest creatures on the face of the Earth. I was wrong. Turkeys have to be the holder of that dubious honor. A creature could not be stupider and still live.

We ordered a dozen turkeys from the supplier when we made our spring order for chickens, and they arrived at about the same time. When they ship the chicks, they throw in an extra, because they figure that one will die from shipping and handling. In this case all 13 arrived sound and healthy.

The instructions told us we had to teach the turkeys how to drink from whatever water dispenser we were using, because otherwise they would drown. You were to hold their head in the water until they swallowed and then take it out. Repeat once, and they got the idea.

One of the persistent folk tales is that turkeys will look up at the sky with their mouths open during a thunderstorm and die. I cannot attest to the truth of this, as we never lost any turkeys that way, but it strikes me as likely, seeing how dumb they are.

My little sisters decided that they would make a pet out of the extra turkey. Of course they named him "Lucky" and he had the run of the yard. Come slaughter time in the fall, Lucky got passed over. He grew to be huge. And mean.

The side yard was his territory, and he defended it fiercely. One of his major sources of amusement was to terrorize the dog. The dog at the time (Tschindi) was a half border collie, half coyote, and was the best mouser we ever had on the place. The turkey ambushed him almost daily.

Seeing as the turkey outweighed the dog by about 20 pounds, it was a pretty one sided battle. The turkey also ambushed anyone who wasn't paying attention. After getting ambushed a couple of times myself, every once in a while I would amble casually out into the side yard, and when Lucky was about ready to pounce, I would turn around and give him a good swift kick, and then run away before he could recover.

Down at the end of the driveway we had a power drop which ran the welder and a 120 volt outlet for an old beat up refrigerator. We kept fresh eggs in the refrigerator, which were for sale for 50 cents a dozen. My mother raised the laying hens, fed us all the eggs we needed and kept the "egg money" for little extras for her and the girls.

There was a box next to the refrigerator to deposit the money, so anyone could come by at any time to get eggs even if we weren't there. We trusted people to leave the money, and to the best of my knowledge no one ever stiffed us. If we were home, they would usually come by the house and have a glass of milk or a beer and visit a spell.

We were off at church on Sunday when someone came by to get a dozen eggs, and when we got home we noticed that the turkey was moving mighty slow. We went off on a berry picking expedition up Pack River, and picked several gallons of huckleberries.

When we got home we were greeted with a gruesome site. There were feathers guts and blood all over the side yard, and in the middle of them, chewing on a bone was the dog. He had figured out that Lucky was hurt and couldn't defend himself. He not only killed the turkey, he mutilated him. There was no piece left bigger than a pack of cigarettes.

He had paid that turkey back for every peck and every wing slap he had ever gotten, and looked mighty please with himself.

I get a certain satisfaction every year at Thanksgiving when we stuff the bird in the oven.

Happy Thanksgiving

I thought I'd take a minute to wish everyone a very happy Thanksgiving. I have a lot to be thankful for, and I am determined to keep focused on the good stuff.

I just went down and checked on the bird. It is getting close to done. Wrapped in Bacon, stuffed, and smelling SSOOOOO good. I give it at least another half an hour before it's done. My tummy is rumbling already.

It is another rainy Northwest day, but I am inside and dry and warm.

It is a good sort of laid back day. Just Mrs A. and V. and I. I watched Pinks until I got tired of it, and then Mrs A. turned to the dog show, while I am reading a classic John D. McDonald Travis McGee novel. No great aspirations or plans, except for eating turkey and dressing and deviled eggs and matbe some cranberry sauce.

I have tomorrow off, like a lot of people. But I absolutely refuse to participate in the madness of the day after sales. There is nothing I need so bad that I would go battle the crowds for it. I would rather go to the dentist than go out tomorrow shopping.

I plan to just hunker down and take it easy and let the world go on without me.

Hope everyone out there in the blogosphere is having a great day.

Banish darkness!

I stopped and looked over my blog this morning, and I came to the realization that even I am sick of my whining. Shit happens, so get over it and move on.

So I now decree Alville municipal code 1452397 which bans all whining for the rest of the year. I will think only positive thoughts, see the humor in all situations, and write only positive posts.

I will trust in the Lord and be thankful for the many good things in my life instead of the few negative things.

I have a loveing wife, who I need to pay more attention to. I have an intelligent and challenging grandson living with me who is a good kid, and I need to spend more time with him.

I am in reasonably good health, and have a superior mind. I am financially secure enough that I do not lay awake at night wondering how I am going to get the money to pay the bills.

I have a challenging and rewarding job. I am proud of what I do.

I have a whole bunch of family that would come running to my aid if I really needed help.

I have friends and faith, and a rock solid belief system that gets me through the toughest times.

I own my home, and while it is not payed off, another ten years and it will be.

So I hereby banish darkness and glum thoughts.

Nothing

So I got no idea what the fu*k is going on. R. was supposed to get a truck and come over with the last of her stuff.

Supposedly her mom was suposed to rent a truck and get the last of her stuff to my house. No surprise, it didn't happen.

I am so sick and tired of trying so hard to make things happen when no one else even makes an effort.

The list goes on and on and on, but there is no payback.

I give up.

Tough Day

I whined about the Special Assignment I got yesterday. It is a little better, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

I talked back and forth with R. and she was supposed to meet me at her appartment when I got off work so I could help her move the last of her stuff that she is putting in our basement. You think that someone who is unemployed and doing nothing could at least get her butt over there in time. After all I am doing HER a favor by helping her.

But you would be wrong.

When I got home the little light on the phone was blinking. It was the school. V. has been using inappropriate language in the classroom again. He got detention. When the teacher called home to tell me, he beat me home, and erased the first two messages. I got the third. I read him the riot act. His reasoning was that since he wasn't screwing up as bad as everyone else, he should get off free. No such luck. I kicked him off the computer until I feel like letting him back on. The little shit.

R. didn't get to her appartment until 6:30. Mrs A, was furious, but I told her to back off. What the hell difference does it make to her what time I go to help R. I told her she was being unreasonable, which of course was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

I went and got a load of her stuff, and brought it home. While I was there I told her she was not welcome at Thanksgiving. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I drove home with tears in my eyes. I spent the remainder of the evening leaking around the eyes. Tough love is hard stuff on everyone involved.

At least I am pretty sure that today will be better than yesterday.

Frustrated

Can I just go home and go back to bed?

I had a frustrating weekend, and am having a frustrating day. My boss has given me an assignment that is almost guaranteed for failure.

R. was supposed to move furniture this weekend, so I set aside Saturday for the task, with the instruction to call me Friday night. She didn't. She also didn't call Saturday morning. I finally called her at 11:00, and she returned my call at 1:00. I wantes to be DONE by then, not thinking about getting started. Sjhe said she was going to call a friend who had a truck, and get back to me, but she didn't call back until 5:00. By then it was too damn late.

The boss wants me to do an in-depth analysis of the Electrical Engineering releases for the first 737-700 ER. The damn thing loads in 10 days, and there are about 1600 drawings to check. He also gave me the names of five people wh are supposed to help me.

I sent them a meeting notice, and not a single one of them has replied.

The meeting starts in 15 minutes, and as far as I know I am flying solo, the plane is on fire, and I have no parachute.

Security

There is no such thing as security. Once you accept this idea, you can settle down and get on with living. Life is a state of uneasiness, just some times are more anxious than others. Even if you are laying at the beach cooking yourself in coconut oil, there is a little sentry parading around in your head checking the perimeter.

Yesterday when I got home, I needed to get out and check out why the clutch was not working properly in the Z (Despite the fact that it was raining like a cow peeing on a flat rock at the time). When I opened the double doors to the basement from the inside, I heard a scraping noise. I looked down and it was little pieces of trim going to one of the two little windows.

Someone had attempted to break into the house!

When the house was burglarized four years ago, that is how they gained entry. The doors have a vertical latch, a sliding catch and a 2 X 12 cross bar that I installed, so you can't just bust the window, reach in, and unlatch the door. The fact that the bar was in place says they couldn't get through.

But upon thinking about it, I decided I didn't like having glass in the window.

I had some 1/4" plexiglass laying around that was left over from some other project, so I cut it to size. Tight enough that it had to be helped into place with a hammer and a board. Then replaced the inside trim to hold it in place. And added a couple of extra nails.

Sure, you can still get in that way if you are determined enough, but you can ALWAYS get into a house if you don't care how much noise you make.

So I feel a little more secure.

But the little sentry in my head is on alert.

And I have given him live ammo.

CARS

I may have mentioned I am a Motorhead. Not a complete garage junky mind you, but I do love working on a nice clean well kept car.

This usually translates inot having a couple of projects. The downside is that I am working on and driving the cars at the same time. This reared its ugly head this morning.

Suddenly the Z didn't want to go in gear. I had to force the stick a little before it would go into gear. The clutch pedal also did not want to disengage. This means one of two things. Either I am leaking hydraulic fluid from the clutch, or the adjustment rod is out of adjustment.

I had an offsite meeting this morning, and when it was over, I could NOT get the car to shift into Low. I finally turned off the engine, and it slipped in to gear. I took it back home and switched cars to the Blazer.

The Blazer has no heat, so it is not my favorite, and it gets like 14 miles to the gallon. To fix the problem with the heat will be expensive if I don't do the work myself.

I should do something about the Blazer. Either fix it or trade it in on a new car. The practical side of me says to get a new Chevy HHR, which I like the looks of and is a good ballance of style and use. 3o+ miles to the gallon and a lot of interior space and it looks nice.

The not so practical side of me saw the new Saturn Sky on the road the other day and wants one real bad. Good gas mileage and a kick in the ass to drive.

Oh, whatever to do.

Insomnia

Mrs A. has not been sleeping well. This is both good and bad.

The bad thing is that she rolls over and asks "Honey are you awake? HONEY ARE YOU AWAKE??"

"I am now"

"Why do you think they did that?"

I am, of course supposed to immediately know what she is talking about. The scary part is that I usually do.

That is the bad part. Because she is having a hard time sleeping, I get awakened in the middle of the night, or early morning.

The good part is that she is now awake, and has to find something to do. So she does me. This is behavior I want to encourage.

So if I could cure her insomnia, would I want to?

Nothing weekend

I didn't accomplish a damn thing this weekend.

I am SOOOOO proud of myself. I haven't had a weekend where I could do nothing in so long that I had forgotten what it was like. I played computer games, read a book, watched football on TV (GO SEAHAWKS!!!).

The truth of the matter is that Mrs A. has a cold, so she didn't want to do anything all weekend, and it didn't take a whole lot to convince me to do the same. It was contintuing to be overcast and rain and cold, so we just retreated into our shells and closed the doors.

We were supposed to go places and do things, but never left the house. I think we were just gathering our strength before the race to the end of the year. After all THANKSGIVING IS NEXT WEEK!!!

No need to panic.

Just center yourself, slow your breathing, and try to concentrate on the good things. Go to your happy place.

Everything is going to be OK.