One year ago today: October 20, 2015, taxi: $6.40 per mile.
Five years ago today: October 20, 2011, the women go feral.
Nine years ago today: October 20, 2007, see dotcom of same.
Random years ago today: October 20, 2006, a DNS transcription.
MORNING
I see you’re back for more homespun information and yarns on how this house now owns me and not the other way around. That wire gizmo found in the back yard, or did I forget to mention it? It was folded up and lying in the grass. I got it to work and am only guessing it is a plant stand. If you look at the close-up of the scroll work, it seems far too elaborate for just that. It has little hooks that fit through nuts and the whole unit is quite solid. A folding, welded plant stand? I’ll paint it up and see if I can think of what it was for. Don’t look too close or you will see my door frame and siding needs painting and the steps are in need of replacement.
I found the seed that the birds don’t like. It is called milo, I’ll look it up but never heard of it before. The birds peck around it until it blocks up the seed cup. This will never do. The manual says to vary the birdseed and allow it to run empty once in a while to keep the birds on their toes, well, okay, the book never said that. Birds maybe have talons, not toes. What do I know?
[Author's note: I learned milo is another name for sorghum. Here is a quote from the birdseed site:
"This grain is available in both red and white varieties. Because it is large and bulky, it is less expensive than most other types of birdseed, but it is less appealing to most bird species. Very few birds will eat milo, though it is a favorite food for doves, wild turkeys and pheasants. Milo is often used as a filler in bulk commercial seed mixes, making them less valuable because much of the seed will be wasted."
Way to go, Publix.]
Say, would you like any giant grapefruit juice? You’re looking a little gaunt these days and this stuff is really good for you. This is freshly squeezed, not that reconstituted goop, and no sugar. Don’t need any because it is all from the juiciest and sweetest first squeeze around the center. Because my hands were getting tired. Help yourself. I have lots. Really, lots. Have all you want. I’m not going to throw it out. If you like, I can put some in a jar for you to take home.
After a bit, I see that I must have slept funny. That’s the only time I get a stiff neck. Now I can’t look to the right. I’ve got all that muscle cream and heating pads but they only work when I’m applying them. So sit back and see what I get done by way of research. I’m not going anywhere until this eases up. Let’s hope it is related to this flu that is taking one day per symptom.
Lake Baikal.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
NOON
Way to go, Hydrofarm. The company that builds a timer with no identifying labels on the container. Good luck trying to find the manual. I did, but no thanks to Hydrofarm. I want a security light, it turns out I have their grow light. It’s called the TM01715. This information is not easily found. I made it as far as the library, by then I couldn’t tilt my head upward either. Well, you know, it’s the kind of pain that you have to wait out.
True, Johnny Cash is my musical influence, but I have a stage influence as well that I don’t think I’ve mentioned. Probably because I don’t actually behave like him on stage except short quips over the microphone. I can’t really intermingle comedy with my music, as I tend to take each tune very seriously. Even when doing a humorous song, I stick to the plan. My stage influence is the grand master himself, Victor Borge.
I don’t really use any of his lines, since they target a more sophisticated crowd than you’ll ever find at my gigs. Pardon me while I go grab a glass of grapefruit juice. Okay, I’m back. If you watch Borge you’ll see three distinct patterns. Most often, he’ll make a statement that is taken a certain way and follow up with a word that throws you the curve. Next most frequently, he pokes fun at the music, which I just said I can’t do while I’m playing. His third technique is to say something and stop. The pause conveys the punch line. This one, I do all the time, except I don’t wait for the audience to laugh.
For some reason, I thought that was important information. If you don’t see the connection, please, I invite you to watch any video you can of his performances. His rapport with the audience is always a masterpiece.
So as to not stay cooped up, by later I went up to the BK for a caramel sundae. That’s not really diet cheating because this morning all I had for breakfast was three glasses of I’m not going to say it. And some croissants. That’s it. Then I left a message for JZ to call, I have a cherry picker, also known as a bucket lift, for $250 per day, plus $100 for delivery and pickup from Tampa. But first, I’ll re-contact my original bidders and see if they’ll give me a discount to just fell the tree. I’ll chop it up and haul it away myself. Stay tuned on that one.
NIGHT
Mercy, that shoulder hurts, the strained muscle kind one day after I tell you I don’t get those. This is not work related. You have my permission to take the evening off yourself. Get a good book and a cup of tea. Shut off that TV and sit in a real chair and learn something new. I have the Concise edition of birds and feeders and after that, a pile of dollar DVDs from the Thrift.
My plan is now that I’ve found a consistency to the part of the house that sank, I may be able to simply raise those parts with hydraulic jacks. But without JZ here to explain why the idea is crazy, I’m taking a chance. There is a balance when we work together, where Agt. M would just jump in and work the levers and fix up any collateral damage later. I’m behind schedule, but not worried. I know a considerable amount more about fixing floors than the rest of the gang. And a far better understanding of the flex that remains in old timber.
That’s this picture, with the level. If it’s a repeat, that’s because I’m now measuring the wooden shims required to level the south wall. That also explains the chainsaw oil. The electric chain saw, now that I’ve use it a bit, requires refilling with oil approximately every five minutes of use. Nobody panic, five minutes is a lot of cutting. My plan is detailed last day, but I’ll repeat that. Slice the 4x4 sample to form two 12”x12”x4” square ground pads. This is to prevent the jacks from simply sinking into the substrate.
A second twenty-ton jack will suffice to raise a 6 to 8 foot wall section and slide the shims into place. I now know how to measure this very accurately with the laser. And it is either a two man operation or I’ll be doing an awful lot of walking back and forth. My concern is how the two sections of this building are joined. That is one end plate I don’t want to have to replace if I don’t have to.
The winning combination seems to be to level the original floor as much as possible, then install either sister joists or new joists 16” on center to being the structure into alignment. The slow progress is understandable once you realize that each joist must be custom fitted. If this decent weather keeps up, I’ll probably have something to write about by early next week.
ADDENDUM
Looking north through my trees, this is the view toward the preacher’s house. (Actually, the preacher’s son, but that takes too long to say.) Notice the intense shade in my yard compared to the vacant lot back there. Also see there is a small vehicle parked there. When I moved in, the underbrush was so thick this scene was blocked. And part of my concern with the tree limbs is sometimes those vehicles will park under them to stay cool. My oak branches extend some twenty feet out over that property.
I just watched the worst video of what looks like the 1970s. “Hollywood Cop”. It’s a flagrant copy of all the clichés of that decade, right down to the ex-wrestler now a bouncer at a strip club who writes out the bad guy’s home address for strangers. A third rate actress who can outrun athletes. While she’s wearing cowboy boots. The catch is, this is not a spoof.
So boring, I read up on DOS database structure while it was playing. There is something none of these textbooks explain that is important to the operations side. It’s been forty years since I first worked with this and I still don’t know the answer. The question is, why do databases open and close the file each time you use a record? The programming overhead is enormous. Would it not make more sense to open the file, perform all your tasks, and then close it when you are finished? I’m talking DOS here, which is a single user environment.
For that matter, I never understood why DOS programs run differently on different computers. Nobody’s ever explained that to me either, not that it’s made any difference. I can still program. DOS is quite intuitive compared to that bizarre OOPS coding that turns everything backwards to the delight of those poor saps who love C+.
I’m adapting to a more circadian lifestyle, which I’ve noticed is done mainly by the very rich and very poor. Of which I am neither. I used to automatically wake up at 5:30AM when I worked, but that’s not the same thing. I mean the rhythm established by the sun and moon, not the alarm clock. In America, there are only two classes of people who can live that naturally. The rich and the poor. The rich because it is healthy and the poor because they are physiologically driven in every matter.
Last evening the minimum temperature in the yard was 63.7°F. That was cool enough for me to throw a blanket over myself. What a rare occurrence that has been since 1999.
Last Laugh
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