August 6, 2106

Yesteryear
One year ago today: August 6, 2015, due diligence scam.
Five years ago today: August 6, 2011, Gillette RFID mystery
Nine years ago today: August 6, 2007, they got Chinese crosswords?
Random years ago today: August 6, 2014, a mindless cult following.

MORNING
           If you aren’t used to it by now, the new place, “509” or “the cottage” or “the cabin” is dominating the airwaves. Until I’m settle in over there, have fun watching me make all the mistakes. I have not bought a house for cash since I was 23. And, you know, some of the cash from that original house found its way into this new acquisition. I awoke at 6:58AM, this time the sunrise got me into the kitchen for coffee. My gawd, I’m reverting to living on the farm. Except this farm has no grunt labor. I mean, do you have any idea what time chickens get up in the morning?

           I cleaned the yard and stacked the lumber from the old oak floor. That’s the first mistake, see picture. I piled it where it was convenient. Underneath the big dead tree. Now I have to move the lumber again when it comes time to cull that tree. Duh. And raking leaves until it got too hot. There seems to be a storm every afternoon around four-ish, which everybody in Florida will tell you is a freak occurrence. Actually, it got too damn hot so I zipped to the library to plan the electric. The back bedroom is getting near that stage.
           The main move was a decision to insulate before proceeding. The previous occupants, I now learned it was six years back, simply ran the A/C full blast 24/7. I’ve determined that’s not a wise idea for the future. And I took more detailed looks at the remainder of the interior. I’ll give you a full report on Sunday (tomorrow). The insulation immediately cooled the place down to sauna levels, meaning I got a huge amount of the labor done.
           Of course, everyone wants to know about the floor. And I can only give partial feedback because this trip I did not work on it. It didn’t need work to be usable. Merely walking on it shows it has settled properly—as planned for any doubting Thomas types. The task now will be to make it level and that can wait. Right now it perceives as level and that’s good enough for a comfy interior work area.

Wiki picture of the day.
Gaddafi.
He was not a dicator.
NOON
           The kitchen will be a challenge. The cupboard space is very limited and the drawers don’t slide from the warping of the floor. I’ve decided, initially, to go with a “pub set”. This is a small table with two chairs. I ask myself how often in my entire life I’ve had big company. Maybe five times. Because I have no budget for feeding the crew and my home life is my refuge. Which reminds me, the lady from the old bakery is back from Hungary and left me a message. That was thoughtful.
           I picked up some nails and other hardware, putting a healthy ten miles on the Jamus, that semi-famous bicycle from ten years ago. She still works fine. Of yet, I still don’t have the data needed to project the utilities on 509, but right now (uninsulated) it is averaging $60 per month. And the A/C is only run on weekends. So that insulation quickly becomes a priority. Thinking that over, I spent two hours tiding up. The real estate lady came over and I showed her the progress. Like I mentioned, the fumigation completely removed the “old house” aroma and she commented how it now smells of new lumber.

           At this point, I decided to insulate the entire room, leaving the bottom of the batts unattached so I can run the new electric. Shown here is the early stages of the full insulation, I'm holding my hand in the window to shield the exposure sensor so you can see the wall better. The electric will require two new circuits for a total of three. Code says the A/C must have a dedicated circuit, and meeting the requirement of one receptable every six feet would overload the existing line. So I walked over and talked to the neighbor, Howie. He’s been keeping an eye on the place and has been mowing the lawn. It’s actually like an extension of his own lawn and he’s got a ride-on mower.
           I later did more insulating, deciding not to tarpaper the south wall. There is a huge chance that unless I run out of money, that is where the sunroom will be attached, so I didn’t want to create extra work or waste materials. The existing bedroom layout means there is no place to place a bed against the wall without blocking a window, so the north window I’ve measured out to move to the east wall. Think, a beautiful double window facing the sunrise. Plus, a bed against the north wall would leave, in my live, an unprecedented 5 feet of walk space around the rest of a queen-size bed. That’s luxury.

AFTERNOON
           Then came the rainstorm. The room was only half insulated. Y’know, that’s a task that is more time-consuming to do right than most people allow for. No, you can’t just stuff the batts in the wall. And the way I do it, I tape every seam (masking tape) and every tiny rip or nail hole. What a fun experience in the room when the insulation deadens the sound of the outside, but not quite enough that you don’t know it is out there. Quite different thn the hailstone-like effect of the old place which had a metal roof.

           During siesta, I listened to the radio. It’s AM US Armed Forces Radio. (You can listen on-line but I don't.) I should point something out. No, I did not grow up gathered with the family around a radio listening to old Dwight. For that matter, I’ve never listened to any radio in my youth except when a Beatles song came on. The most I’ve listened would be on some long distance trips in the old Cadillac, and NPR for “Prairie Home Companion”. And even then, only because it came on when I was normally working on my accounts.
           Hence, I’d describe my radio-listening as far from scheduled, but more opportunistic. AM radio cackles and sputters, but it is the only Florida station that does not play pseudo-rap jungle music. So yes, when Gunsmoke, or the Lone Ranger, or The Twilight Zone comes on, I’ll listen. The reception is terrible at 509, so I’ll have to rig up a tunable antenna or something when I get settled. I know very little about AM antennas, but I know we used to twirl around with the radio when I was a kid to get better incoming.

NIGHT
           The treat above the frost line is that the evenings get cooler. And that alone makes the new place a more inviting place to stay in. I took measurements and such. One error was my plan to wall off the old living room into a bedroom once the sun room is ready. I had not taken into consideration that the only heater in the entire building would not be in that room. Agt. R, that’s the new contact who you’ll hear more about, says no problem, that he’s lived here his whole life and never needed more than a couple of space heaters.

           For some reason, ever since JZ mentioned pie on our last trip, I’ve got a craving for pumpkin pie. I don’t even care much for pumpkin. But I believe you should, within reason, eat what you system tells you. This makes sense because over my passive interest in ancient history, you never hear of famines except in areas that became agriculturalized. Think about it, allowing for the fact that nomads didn’t record such events, but the bones were carbon-dated and other artifacts just don’t show any wide-spread deaths from starvation in hunter-gatherers. They didn't even pass down a song in legend for any such calamities.

           [Author’s note: what I’m saying here is that I think if the paleontologist’s found anything, it would be evidence of any remotely like malnutrition. Common sense tells us mankind did not survive and evolved as cavemen for millions of years having some type of chronic food deficiencies. In fact, it seems more like mankind was able to break the number one rul of Nature by continually dying of old age.
           So, if I want pumpkin pie, I’m gonna get pumpkin pie.]

           This distraction got me to cut myself on the index finger while reaching into the nail pouch. That’s enough, I thought. I biked downtown to find the new club completely packed for a Saturday night. Rare. I found a place in the corner and watched the antics. A table of middle-aged women with puffy upper arms showing were checking me out. I smiled. And went back to work. I was busy sketching some of the measurements just written.


Last Laugh

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