One year ago today: August 28, 2015, . . . some blond bimbo.
Five years ago today: August 28, 2011, $65k per year.
Nine years ago today: August 28, 2007, the bridge riddle.
Random years ago today: August 28, 2012, the da Vinci exhibit.
MORNING
This is a black imitation rose. Is this some new Halloween fad I’m unaware of? It struck me as some Millennial thing, you know how they like to anthropomorphize old monsters because it takes brains and creativity to make new ones. That’s the “Bride of Frankenstein” bunch, how original. But it does fit in with their Lilbtard indoctrination that vampires and such need love, too. It is a rare teen these days who even wonders why the bad creatures never commit suicide. Just Millennials.
Hence, 6:30 is about as early as I’ll get underway. These days that means making toast and coffee. And radio news, why I’ve almost got JZ converted away from TV. He’s got that total TV syndrome that if you aren’t watching, you are missing out on something. That is indoctrination at its worst. I see Glascow airport is finally arresting drunk pilots. And the Pope is going to visit the Italian village buried by an earthquake as soon as he can get away. (Get away from what? Blackballing Donald Trump?)
Trump is doing the wrong thing—listening to advisors who say soften his stance. Don, Don, they would say that, wouldn’t they? You are winning on a strong ticket with the huge get-tough majority. The dumbest thing to do is start weakening by picking up points with the special interest minorities. That type of Balkanization is what drives the Libtards. They would love to see America break up into hundreds of individually helpless cults who will never agree on anything. And nobody said break up the families. If they want to stay together, kick the whole bunch out.
Harsh? Consider the consequence of not doing anything. My stance is easy to follow. On issues like immigration, if the majority of voters on election day say kick them out, then out they go. Compromise has obviously not worked and anyone who says otherwise should be forced to walk through the east end after dark. And wearing the same blinders they must have on to claim crime has no color. I’ll tell you what was creepy. The news this morning says the murder of those nuns in Mississippi was “not motivated by robbery”.
Most of China.
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NOON
I wiped out the day’s pictures trusting MicroSoft. I should know you never trust the way that system handles files. Never delete the original of a copy and paste without confirming that files is actually copied. This morning we went to BK instead of cooking and then took the van to the south end. Here’s the pub set table at Big Lots, but I’ve got to do some unpacking before I get any furniture this size.
As shown here, the table has only two chairs, but is big enough for place settings and food on the table. Plus, if I get to the kitchen renovation, there is the option to stick this smaller table into a breakfast nook. We drove around the area, exploring a bit. Last evening, I forgot to mention, we saw a terrible mess on the road. Some driver shot at least 45 mph out of a side street in Plant City and T-boned a mini-van so hard it flipped on its side.
Clear, dry, straight, level road, bright overcast, marked intersection. Both late-model vehicles. The police had just got there and already the driver evidently at fault was lying on the pavement playing the victim. Maybe Mr. Sharpton could enlighten us what really happened here, because we sure know what it looked like.
I’m saying I may just take a week off and sit right here, reading. The pressure is off, although we all know that is prime time for something else to go wrong. Most likely, however, I’ll start putting in a few hours per day until the job is complete.
I’ll be working alone. JZ always underestimates the time things take, plus he is less methodical than I am about writing out blueprints and taking exact measurements. He is also less opposed to correcting mistakes caused by doing things out of order—something that I can barely imagine. Yes, I know that I should build that new bathroom wall as soon as now, but I’m not building that or any wall until the floor is level. See what I’m talking about?
JZ also never makes models, where my desk is cluttered with cutouts, samples, diagrams, and printouts. This causes JZ and many others to conclude I want everything perfect before I start, which leads to the other problem—I often want to start a project and make plans as things progress. So what good are all the plans if I still have to stop and take measurements? All I can say about that is go in the room and see the results for yourself.
NIGHT
Here is your first view of the rafters. Again, notice how spotlessly clean the construction was. And zero termite damage. This is the roof of the bedroom, which is destined to be covered with vapor barrier and R-30 insulation. Relatively, this will be an easy insulation job, probably less than eight hours. There are no obstructions and only one electrical cable (just visible lower right) to the central light fixture of each room. No cobwebs.
Nor am I sparing the expense. Insulating my floor, a completely different event from leveling and reinforcing the joists, is a $212.83 operation for materials alone. Look at the picture again and spot the long 2x4. That was hand picked to be the straightest piece of lumber from that lift. Think of it as the jig that will be used to absolutely straighten the joists that were notched last month. That operation too them to within a 1/4”, this will take them to within 1/8”. Because that is how I want it.
I took a one-hour scooter tour of the area. It is great old mansion-style houses all around me. There is no property that the wrong kind of people could even move in to. It may take longer than I thought to memorize the street system. I bought some murder mysteries, made myself a pork chop sandwich, and plunked down on the sofa. I’m considering a better radio antenna since the evenings pull in so many stations I can’t lock onto my favorites.
I’m further aware that the nicer I make this place right now, the better off I’ll be when I turn 65. Nothing has really gone wrong yet, but there are troubling signs everywhere. And if Trump gets in and puts a stop to the more deliberate corruptions, we’ll see woes. The sheer numbers of people on the take is rampant.
This begins the longest stretch I’ve been in the house by myself. For the first time, I no longer give the other guy first pick of everything and I like it. Tomorrow I find my music files and start rehearsing again regularly. It’s been nearly three months that I’ve played, but not systematically learned new material or polished my older numbers. In fact, it is only 9:02PM so I think I’ll play bass for an hour. Later, dudes.
PS I just had to come back and tell you. You know Rundgren’s “Bang On The Drum”? Well, it took some derring-do but I actually figured out how to play that accordion riff on the bass. (Yep, if you go back a ways, I did play accordion.) The bass riff, like that bouncy accordion sound, does change key where your music teacher would have a fit, but with some tricky fingering patterns I’ve got it.
Even the bass solo sounds better, as in more full-sounding, when I add in the accordion notes. You know what I like even more? Those goofs that bastardize a good bass sound by using their fingers instead of a pick would have real difficulty with this arrangement because it is hard to turn one’s right hand upside down. In fact, a lot of guitarists would have trouble with that. Ha! Now you just know I’m going to push in on stage.
ADDENDUM
This is a point at which I would normally review my will. I would never rest in my grave knowing the government got a penny more of my property than they were entitled to over some technicality. I also read what tactics have been successfully employed to contest wills and the most used to day is omission. That’s correct, somebody who is not mentioned in the will contends they have mistakenly been left out. I thought about that, for it is exactly the sort of tactic that my family would use.
Therefore, much as it is against my gut feeling on the matter, I may have to list all my disgusting relatives on the document. Including that aunt who begrudged me toast and jam when I was 18, but left property worth hundreds of millions to strangers as park land. This is the predominant characteristic of my family. They are very, very, very, very, very, very kind to strangers.
Last Laugh
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