One year ago today: August 10, 2015, Trump isn’t backing down.
Five years ago today: August 10, 2011, the chilly breath . . .
Nine years ago today: August 10, 2007, the lady known as Lou.
Random years ago today: August 10, 2009, aw, it’s Tat.
MORNING
Nothing like an 11-hour work day and a 3-mile hike in the rain to get me in the mood for a day off. Meaning I just slept through 15 hours. And that’s all the stats for this morning. I’ve meticulously checked the red scooter and there is no critical damage. The only loss is the nice big reflector on the jockey box. And I don’t deliver pizza, much less drive at night. Thus, I’m not getting any new wheels out of this accident—there was not enough damage. Cosmetic damage don’t count, this being Florida. And that is one old, old scooter. The estimated mileage is 25,050 which in Honda-miles is well over a half-million.
In fact, the original paint job is so worn off, you can see the marker and tail lights through the side of the scooter. Hey, added safety. I didn’t buy the wheels to pick up fancy dames. This, in south Florida, is as prudent as not driving at night. I like self-fulfilling prophesy. Like the guy who said, “Be yourself. Everybody else is already taken.”
Now, the question is, should I still report the scooter incident? You see, the guy who hit me did take off running for some reason, and he could be pretty sure there were security cameras covering that lot. If I was the CSI type I’d be more than curious to know. But the local fuzz are more preoccupied over high-profile take-downs and celebrity busts. Yet, they too must have their off moments to “handle the chronics”. That’s an old phone company term for quiet times when they make you re-test the problem circuits. I’ve fixed enough of those to know in theory they can be worth tackling.
I have the option of attending a nurse’s bingo later. I think I will, for a couple of hours. It’s downstairs from my clinic and there are a few cuties in there I’d like to probe internally. They always give away tons of free stuff, a lot of it pretty handy. Check in later, after siesta.
Silver has persistently kept above $20 per ounce for a few days already, prompting me to put it back on my live feed. Did you know, in terms of real dollars, most industrial metals have dropped in price rather steadily since the 1870s. When supplies get low, rather than a surge in price, it is usually the case that some substitute or new process is found that diminishes demand and hence prices. And as I point out with dismay, there have not really been many really new inventions since the 1940s when the Allies bombed the source into rubble and embarked on “globalism”. I could have used a nastier word.
The dog dance.
NOON
I read in more detail about bird diets, with the motive of seeing that cardinal in my yard again. It says to feed them strictly black oil sunflower seed. That sounds messy, I’ve found that commercial budgie feed is a very good, if somewhat expensive, lure. And I found a recipe for suet, that all-time bird favorite that nobody has a clue what it is. Nor have I ever heard the word in conversation. The same source says to check the holes made by the woodpecker. If they are square, that is unique to one species—and I did once see square holes in a tree on a nature walk on Anacortes Island so long ago.
The link above is also informative and practical. For instance, the suet log is best in the winter. During the summer, the suet can melt and the abundance of food may cause the suet to attract pests, which includes starlings. Anther hint is to mix capsicum pepper into the feed. Squirrels hate it, but apparently, birds can’t even taste it.
There, see how you always learn something from this good old blog every day? Painless trivia. Where else can you get the real recipe for bannock? I can still remember before I was four years old having entire meals of just bannock and butter. My favorite was bannock with peanut butter, which was pretty much the only “candy” in bountiful supply before we moved to town. There is a lot more to keeping kids ignorant if you want to keep them on the farm than most city folk imagine.
In fact, I wonder what would have happened to me if I had not been the paper boy. I read that paper, except for sport and such, cover to cover every day in the old hotel lobby. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but that does not seem to be a barrier to anybody becoming, say, vice-president during the 70s.
NIGHT
I missed the bingo, not thinking it would take me 55 minutes to drive the 9 miles. The prettiest nurses get off work an hour before I arrived and were gone by when I made my entrance. I did get some goodies, but also got a reminder that this city has a rush hour that clogs even the side roads. And it is not your regular volume delays; it is piss-poor drivers. Merge means merge except in Florida, where it means speed like a maniac up to the orange barrel and cut in front. Primarily a Cuban custom, but once one clown does it, . . .
I’m just telling it like it is. If you don’t agree, pull your head out and look for yourself.
So I went to Dunkin, a joint I don’t usually hang out. It’s full of fat older men pretending they are computer literate and women who take five minutes each to buy a donut and a coffee. Must be nice to have time on your hands. Why they should get civilized, like myself, and be working a crossword puzzle. Or in this case, reading a 700-page textbook. Alas, the prerequisite for the latter means getting educated, so that isn’t going to happen. Not in this age of phones that are smarter than their users.
The high point was when one of my offers seems to have come up with the money for this place. Scheduled for tomorrow, that would spur me into getting up to the cabin this weekend, taking the long way around through Tampa. On hearing this happy news, I went home and wrote a four page letter to Marion. That’s how things go around here, well, most of the time.
And that’s a wrap, with an eye toward how silver continues to misbehave. It is currently flat-lining at over $20 per ounce, well into the danger zone. Please let this be the year it goes insane, if only for a couple of days. I’m still tinkering with the idea of a silver home delivery service. You buy it at spot and I’ll deliver it anonymously for $3 per ounce. Minimum, say, 5 ounces, preferably 10.
ADDENDUM
Ha, I rejected the Ghostbusters sequel immediately after seeing the trailer trying to glamorize four, shall we say, low-budget actresses. Serves Sony right for dishing up politically correct movie castes right when that hooey goes into disfavor. And I’ve not been a Sony fan since the “user manual” incident, where they charged me a dollar a page to photocopy and when I got home, half the pages were in French. Remember that one? 1991, I think.
Last Laugh
Return Home
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
