One year ago today: May 22, 2016, a different world.
Five years ago today: May 22, 2012, it’s a Quasar.
Nine years ago today: May 22, 2008, painted hubcabs?
Random years ago today: May 22, 2015, six acres in Florida.
Things were cruising along too well. My fridge is acting up, that’s the one that came with the place. The same one I spent $60 to get the fan unstuck because nobody knew how to do that. It was freezing the wrong things, so I boiled all the eggs, that was my big morning. There was still time for a quick meeting and I’d have some unique pics for you except for MicroSoft Picture Manager. I’ll redo them tomorrow, but it was a neat clamp made from a 2x4” and a beautiful wire-bound file handle. You just don’t get that quality any more. Later, here is a picture before I clean it up. Yep, it’s a sad, sad day when a file handle gets top billing. But what the hell, did anything happen over your way either?
How goes the rock tumbling. I dunno, I’m as new at this as most of you. After 48 hours, I removed the lid per the instructions and inspected, without knowing what to look for. The action is slightly exothermic and the grit medium does form that greyish slurry with an aroma. The stones are cleaner but there is no evidence of them becoming any rounder. Sealing it, I realized that’s not much of a report for my readers, so I ran some numbers. That should impress you, ya think? Here goes.
The drum has an inside diameter of 4 inches. That means the circumference is 12.57”, which we’ll round to 12.5”. Since we don’t know what’s really going on inside the tumbler, let’s say the average rock tumbles at a circumference of 6.25”. Logic, the tumbling action must take place on the side of the can that moves upward, so let’s guess half. Each time the tumbler revolves, the average rock tumbles an average of half way around the can.
That works out to 714,000 feet. Which is 135.75 miles. So, a rock has to roll from Lakeland to Orlando twice to get polished, or roll down Mount Everest to sea level almost 25 times. Why, this rock polishing is almost as exciting as watching somebody get a haircut. I figured something else out as well. Anyone who polishes rocks on a big scale, like the big South African cans shown in this photo, would have a tendency to throw in any stone that looked remotely like it might turn out attractive.
The net result of that will be a higher percentage of polished stones that lack appeal. What happens to those? That’s what I figured out. It is called aquarium gravel. We looked at the return from Expedition 02, the trip to the railway trestle. I wasn’t there, the result is a bland and unproductive mix of similar rocks to last time. Somebody at the gathering end should be able to identify the likely samples.
Hilton Head Disney Hotel.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Wait, if you thought the file handle this morning was thrills-ville, wait until you see the hose repair. This is the hose that fills the bird bath, Agt. R thinks I spoil the birds. That’s just because he doesn’t buy the gourmet food and talk about setting up a brooding lamp to keep the little chickies all comfy. Seriously this hose was beginning to piss me off. How many times I walked back to unkink it, I don’t know. Anyway, I don’t mind repairing hoses, because you can remove and throw away the part that is making trouble for the rest, unlike girlfriends where you have to replace the whole unit.
So, tomorrow being the 21st anniversary of me leaving the phone company, we got to talking about that. As usual, people think the place is full of babes because so many women work there. They used to think the same about Sweden. Ha, I told you before, the ratios inside are the same as on the outside. Take all the women, say in my department, that is 393 of them. You’ve heard this before. Don’t even touch intelligence or personality, this is the phone company, not the Miss America pageant. You eliminate the too old, the too young, the too fat, the too skinny, and bypass the losers who are shacked up, knocked up, drugged up, or screwed up and what do you have left?
I’ll tell you. Maybe five babes in a good year. And just like downtown, there are 500 guys chasing the 5 good ones, so your chances of meeting one who isn’t attached are probably in the negative range. I never met one, not one, in fifteen years. I made a few friends, but that was it. Remember, the phone company does not usually hire women until they are over 25, so by then you are largely looking at leftovers. The average unmarried woman by that age usually has something serious wrong with her, and like Ann Coulter would say, quoting a few, or even a lot of exceptions, does not alter a statistic.
"Louis Pasteur's theory of germs is ridiculous fiction".
Toulouse University, 1872
The rails took a dark enough stain with one coat so I left it at that. I made some sample sticks with up to three coats, but the effect is so dark you can’t see the wood grain. It was neat working inside the shed, since we had our first summer rain shower and I could not hear it. I was snug as a bug inside and did not know a thing until a clap of thunder. So the roof was twice as expensive as planned, but it certainly does the job—and does it very quietly. I’ve misplaced the fancy chuck key for the drill press and replacements are expensive.
I got a hankering for Seminole chicken, with the lemon, so I stayed home. Made some beer bread too, there’s only one recipe I like and even then most I make is one loaf at a time. That’s why I’m sitting here with my tea. A good evening and for once, I did like you said and just pretty much sat here. This is not the destiny I had in mind, but since there is no guarantees it would not have been the same after a lot more wasted effort, I’ll just enjoy it and let some other guy pay the child support. There’s been an explosion in England and the leftist press is being very uncooperative with the details. They are carefully not referring to it as a bomb, but if it is, the English are not about to put up with it. They had their fill with the Irish, the new enemy isn't pretending to be your good neighbor.
And listen to the English scream to kick out the Muslims. That was neat to see because it was people obviously just experiencing their first face-to-face with the problem. Gee, Reginald, let's hear you go around labeling Americans racist when the problem finally lands in your own front yard, huh? Looks like the whole empire thing is coming home to roost. It's rednecks who will save America so maybe time for grow some of your own. Hey, don't look at me, you are the one who would not listen to Nigel.
Trump is playing politics again, and he’s right, he’s not very good at it. He should be sticking to business, the main reason he was elected. We don’t need to send the president to say, “Here’s guns, gimme money.” We’ve got legions of jarheads for that. You know something I don’t follow is this whole firing of the FBI guy. Is he the good guy or the bad guy? Myself, I take one look at the guy and you know he’s dirty. But at what? My impression is that he tried to establish a link between Trump’s election and the Russians, which everybody with a measurable IQ recognizes as left-wing propaganda. Then he got caught and tried to cover it up. That’s how little it gets my attention, so remind me to look at that in another week or so.
Last Laugh
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
