One year ago today: February 15, 2017, um, Windows 17?
Five years ago today: February 15, 2013, 80% if my tips.
Nine years ago today: February 15, 2009, She wasn't all bad. (At first.)
Random years ago today: February 15, 2012, a generic post.
Bright and early over to the ReStore (Habitat for Humanity) shop in Winter Haven. They have a limited selection and it has been long picked over before we got there. There are no bargains, but the total price is still a considerable savings over the big box stores. Most of the goods are mislabeled or in the wrong bin or package, so you really have to know your stuff to shop there. If you made a half-day of it and had a list, there are some things to be found. Like this beauty of a set square, the small size I use most often, nice and yellow so I can find it, and only a dollar. It was obviously mispriced and it’s mine now.
My rates have not gone down, but that’s okay. The company I pay is the same one that is going to issue me a big fat check soon for insuring the goof that flattened my beautiful motorcycle. I won’t live long enough for them to see any real return on that, bunch of shysters anyway. Who else can come up with businesses and then pass laws that it is illegal not to buy from them? I really wanted most of the day off to putter around on my house but it took six and a half hours to get two hours work done. I told you before, this far out in the country, it is not the traffic volume that causes the bumper-to-bumper, it is the terrible design of the road system
And this part of Florida has no excuse. Unlike California cities and such that were mapped out before the advent of the automobile, most of Florida had plenty of time to observe and learn. Had they been so inclined. They could easily have taken the best practices of most of the US, since most of the highway system was paved long after the family car and work truck had become a household fixture. Today, the problem was in Winter Haven, where there is a service road which makes a shortcut to the route to Lakeland.
A quarter mile down that road, behind the first curve, you hit a bunch of road closed signs. There are no exits around the lake. So instead of putting the signs out on the highway, nobody knew about the roadblock until they happened upon an acre of cars and trucks all trying to turn around in a constricted space. The backhoe operators, well, you kind of have to be retarded to do that anyway, but they had these bewildered looks, like, what are all these people doing all around here? Where’s the sale?
Wisteria, 144 years old.
(Slow, but worth it.)
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Back home past noon, whew she’s a hot day. Time to run in that air-conditioner asap. I did see a central air unit, brand new, at the ReStore for $300. That’s just the outside unit. Problem is, I don’t know what’s involved so have no idea if that is a bargain. But a stationary unit for the south side of the building might just make sense. I also measured the available doors, bathroom counters, and appliances. The only water heaters were gas. I’m tempted to put a solid core exterior door on that new bedroom, but will read up on the advisability of that first.
Maybe even they took the long way around by sea, dodging the US Fleet by the expedient of only sailing during M*A*S*H* reruns and faking an atomic attack on Hawaii for diversion. Aw, what the heck, make it a real attack. After what the military and the media did to that poor sap who tried to claim he never heard the word “drill”, nobody on that watch is gonna dare push the panic button until the first hundred or so megatons have vaporized Pearl Harbor and created a brand new Hanuama Bay were Diamond Head used to be. And if they promised to nuke the Royal Hawaiian as well, they might find the average American to be a rather forgiving sort.
Anyway, as a military historian, this photo shows you the problem with allowing Hollywood directors to stage battle scenes. At least sixty tanks, all buttoned up so nobody can see anything up in the sky. Add no fuel bowsers, flak, missile, or infantry support, it’s the type of big fat juicy target that Warthog pilots have wet dreams over. Ducks all lined in a row. Even the ones that manage to run for cover aren’t going to find any on that road.
[Author’s note: without disparaging anyone’s beliefs, I’ve often wondered if an evil god wanted to rule the Earth, why would he choose subjects as fragile, cumbersome, and rebellious as humans? Would he not just wipe them out and populate the world with a better class of creature? I mean why does he go through all the trouble with humans?
And a good question I heard today was why do funeral processions go through red lights without stopping? I mean, what’s the rush?]
ADDENDUM
I spent hours doing the sound-proofing drywall with the two layers of tarpaper. Agt. M called, he’s adjusting to married life. He bumped into the staff from the old bakery, who quizzed him how to get hold of me. That’s odd, if you know me, the process is simple. I’ve had the same contact information for 17 years plus. Anyway, I’ll be in Miami next week without any time to visit anybody. It’s developing the opposite way around. You want to visit, you head out this way.
Which spurs me on to complete that bedroom. I went downtown for a few and drew up the requirements. The best quality of what’s in mind is the outlets 48” up the wall, paired with every second regular receptacle, but you don’t need to move furniture and reach behind something to find a plug-in.
I never would have guessed two years ago that I would look forward to driving down to Miami to do nothing. To sit around the condo, and that’s about it.
Last Laugh
(Meanwhile in India.)
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