One year ago today: August 30, 2015, the house that started it all.
Five years ago today: August 30, 2011, Slow, adults ahead . . .
Nine years ago today: August 30, 2007, 3500 amphicars?
Random years ago today: August 30, 2012, an obviously incredible day.
MORNING
Clean country air, that’s the ticket. Or maybe I’m just trying to justify sleeping through eleven hours solid. If this is true retirement, I more than like it. I told you I’d get better with the new camera once I had time to fiddle with it. Here is a stitched panorama that finally gives you an idea of the size of the dead tree I’m dealing with. Sixty-two feet. (There is a second dead tree around half this height in the front yard.)
A second, smaller woodpecker has taken up residence nearby, but the beautiful northern cardinal has disappeared. JZ says he can still hear him, but no sightings. In the background you can see some deciduous trees, those are on my property. The big oak trees behind them belong to the neighbor.
The blue tarp is covering my old oak floorboards.
I took to the library to investigate the specs for my new bathroom fan. It lacks any ventilation but the window and has all the telltale signs of over-humidity. The mirror and window fog during your shower and the paint is flaking slightly over the drywall seams. Yes, I took into consideration the size the bathroom will be once the wall is moved, but thanks anyhow for the reminder.
The bathroom air volume will be 440 cubic feet. Can anyone remember the formula? Shouldn’t the fan be the size that completely recirculates the air in five minutes? Or was it seven? Darn, looks like I’ll have to go the library again tomorrow.
The final floor adjustment is going to take a number of days. But I want it so level that JZ and Agt. M could play pool on it. This project is continually reminding me of something I did not pay attention to before. These guys do not often undertake projects that last more than a day. And tend not to have over one project going on at a time. This, folks, is why larger ventures require a supervisor.
Hence, I went downtown first and made sure I had sandwich and coffee fixin’s to last the weekend. By the looks, I have done nothing yet, but you can bet there is a ton of preparation work that needs to be in place first. In this sense, it is akin to programming. People who sit down and start typing right away are the timewasters. Just you wait and see. I’m also getting conflicting messages on what is the proper material to vapor-proof the room.
Europe’s oldest tree.
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NOON
Working more with the new camera, here is a sort-of close-up of a berry bush growing in my back yard. No samples, please, since I don’t know what they are. And one solitary bush is not enough to make a pie. But should I discover they are edible, that would make for some interesting muffins.
I hauled out the bass for some past due practice. On a lark, I did that Melanie tune “Brand New Key”. Unfortunately, there is no signature where I can sing the entire song in falsetto. What I’ll do is see how well I can compromise. Falsetto is like the poor man’s yodeling. And the theme from Hogan’s Heroes is added to my break song list. I found a great ad for a country band seeking a bassist. Then noticed their zip code puts them up near Daytona.
Have you seen that lame political ad of the gimped kid who says Trump made him unhappy by mimicking the reporter who slammed him? (Trump makes fun of everyone who tries that.) Listen to me, you spoiled little bastard, is there anything else on your wish list you would like served warm while you are bellyaching? Did Trump hurt your feelings, aw, you poor little thing. Shouldn’t you be sending a message that gimps are not above ridicule when they mean-mouth others, just like the rest of us? Or is the real world a little too tough on you?
The little shit wants a president that makes him feel good. Hmmm, let Hillary get in, bankrupt the country, and sonny-boy, you won’t be feeling anything at all. Trivia: Obama won in every state that did not require voter ID and lost in every state that did. In many of the states where Obama won, the voter turnout exceeded 100%.
AFTERNOON
Here’s your first peek at the smart stick. Laser straight, but guys, if you can afford it, get a self-leveling rotating laser. I got mine to work but was it worth the hour of hassle? I don’t spend that much time a year talking to fat broads. Mind you, the leveling is proceeding fast now, although again I took my time. This is all still new to me. I’ll show you how it works tomorrow but I’ll tell you now.
You see, this stick is carefully measured to be straight and stand the correct height above the floor end plates, which are known to be level. Anything in between that is not straight sticks up or sags down. In my case, they all stick up—it was my observation long ago that the center of the floor had bulged where the world was convinced the corners had settled. That was Me: 1, World: 0. For a change.
The notch depth is now easy to estimate, and I’ll back off a tiny amount, which will be abraded away with a power sander to level. That sister joist is not attached and won’t be until the joist is level with the smart stick. From the work we did in July, we know that we can make these adjustments very accurately. I’m also anxious to get that subfloor down to start unpacking. So I can have space to set up my Fishman PA and music practice gear in the living room. Just because I don’t own a TV doesn’t mean the space goes to waste.
NIGHT
Here is your mystery object for this evening. No fair just saying it is a counter. Yes, but what kind of counter and what is it used for. I’d never seen anything like this before. I’m informed it is “old school”. Sure looks it. No clues except what’s here. Hint, it is clearly well-constructed and that is a pretty fancy table it is resting on.
Well, everybody else, I mean. I actually switched to country in 2006. (Roughly, I mean, it didn’t happen overnight.) Prior to that I played, let me see, can I name the country tunes? I hesitate to call Johnny Cash country. To the unsophisticated, he sure sounds country, but his music is considerably more original and breaks too many rules. Let me recall what country tunes I played before 2006. I’m thinking . . .
Let’s see. No, that was Buffet. Nancy Sinatra, that’s pop. Orbison is close but no cigar. Cancel Marty Robbins. Funny, my list is now 80% country and I don’t recall a single country tune I played before 12 years ago. Hey, at least unlike some guitar players I could name, I am capable of learning a completely new style of music. And no, it isn’t because “bass is easy”. Any guitar player that likes can put it to the test with me.
For that matter, let me explain something. I have Grade Eight classical piano. I know that looking at even the most sophisticated rock and blues notation, it is equivalent to around third grade piano. When I play bass, if the syncopation, passing notes, harmony notes, and fills are analyzed, I play at around a fourth grade level. So, if you are a guitarist, don’t tell me bass is easy.
Ah, I hear somebody commenting that I’ve often said my ex-wife tuned me into country music while we were in a band back in the 90s. Yes, but I didn’t play any. Our song list did not contain one country number. She got me to listen to the music while she played it on the stereo, I never played it in the band. Let me check my files to see the first country piece of music that I learned, as opposed to following along some guitarist who was trying to play country. BRB.
Here it is. Yoakum’s “Guitars & Cadillacs”. That song was on my list in 1989(?) but I played it as rock music. I did not set down and learn it as country music until much later. If there was another candidate, it would be “Memphis”, and I forget who got the hit.
ADDENDUM
Awright, awright, I sat down and really tackled the problem of flooring space in the bedroom. At any given time, only half the floor is available. Getting things right entails a lot of moving things back and forth, which is a frustrating part of any renovation. I solved the problem tentatively by temporarily laying the flooring sheets “sideways”. They’ll have to be moved again, though not until I get unpacked. I can’t find my computer cables, butter knives, and half my shirts.
Here’s a photo of the view from my parking spot in the morning. Just anyone try to convince me moving out of Miami to here was any mistake. This is the lake, the lawn, and notice there is no soccer game, nobody sleeping on park benches, no protest going on, in fact nobody. It is just there, peaceful and quiet like it should be. May this beautiful view never become what the Liberals want to turn it into. Not in my lifetime.
Last Laugh
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