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Yesteryear

Monday, June 29, 2009

June 29, 2009

           These are strange days, harkening back to the era of “Russian weather control”. I’m only talking the weather because it has been raining heavily for a week and the forecast is yet another week on the way. Or as Carlos would say, the chance of rain is “sixty per cent out of a hundred”. Here is a lousy picture of the flood, a river running right down the road, ankle deep.
           I do not own any boots. The fact is, that water is warm and it is best to just walk in it barefoot. Oddly, Millie appears to be afraid of rain and will often bark at the thunder. Never seen that before, not in the ten years I’ve been here. Alls I know is the cat just curls right up and goes to sleep, which is most of what she does anyway.
           I see the guys across the way were moving on short notice, but nobody told me they had no place to go. Carlos was getting ready to crash on the living room floor when I got in late. No, no, we have space (now we do anyway) and we put him up in the Florida room. His buddy, Jay(?) was going to crash in the van, so we broke out the air mattress and let him camp in the living room. Strange how things work out, but Wallace knows them and they are fellow musicians. I put on the coffee.
           That reminds me I need another few hundred bucks to finish the Florida room. It will never be as comfortable as a fully air-conditioned and insulated part of the house. Still, it is quite habitable. I’ve been sleeping in my real bedroom and I never realized how nice it is. No birds on the roof, no rain noise, no neighbor noise, the A/C gives a hum that blots out everything. And no sound of tree branches scraping the walls. Sigh, but nobody will disagree we have to take in a renter for a while. What a racket when it rains, it gets too loud to hear anyone talking.

           I’m slapping together a computer from spare parts for Alfredo. That will cut down on the surplus gear I’ve got around the place in various states of disorder. Here’s trivia for any rye whiskey drinkers out there. Rye is only one-sixth of the grain that goes in the pot. The rest is corn. Kind of makes you wonder about people who say they don’t like bourbon, but who will drink rye. You dummies, that is why the label on the rye bottle tells you it is blended. Do you know what the Apaches called corn liquor? Tiswin. Rot-gut.
           I admit, I was reading about corn, in regards to its use as a bio fuel. During which I stumbled across the major uses of the grain. Mostly, it is livestock feed. If you boil the corn in water and hydrochloric acid, you get corn syrup. Don’t say yuck to hydrochloric acid, your stomach is full of it. The first step to refining corn is to soak it in water for a few days. And don’t throw away the steep-water, it is used for making penicillin. In all, I conclude not to consider corn or any food grain as a viable source of engine fuel.
           Wallace has noticed our gutters are not working right. Somebody as to get up there and clean them. I saw an ingenious contraption in a magazine that collected rainwater in two 55-gallon drums. The water was used for toilet flushing and made a significant impact on the total water usage of the household. This water came from the rain gutters. I like such ideas.
           But I don’t like everything. How about those guys who were sitting around and saying, “Say, Luigi, this vinegar doesn’t taste bad enough on its own. Why don’t we strip some bark off a balsa tree and throw it in the vat?” At least that’s my version of how it went.
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