One year ago today: January 20, 2019, sleeping with dough.
Five years ago today: January 20, 2015, everlasting.
Nine years ago today: January 20, 2011, ‘loud’ typists suck.
Random years ago today: January 20, xxxx, WIP
Cold, clear, and windy. That’s as close as we like it to get to winter. I picked up the final batch of lumber for the coop, another $5. That structure has now set me back $41 so them chickens had better learn to like it. Actually, it must be nice by local standards as anybody who sees it is moved to comment. It’s 11:00AM and just getting warm enough to get back at it, hoping to finish it today. I went over to get the neighbor, explaining the hens will not stay put except for feeding. And they turn their beaks up at chicken feed, though the squirrels enjoy it to no end. He says confinement is the answer.
We’ll see, maybe I can finish the chicken coop by today. Notice in this picture how, when the panels weather, they will blend with the fence in the background. I still time to time hear ugly comments about the building inspector, but it always takes years for anything to be done about a bad situation at City Hall. Biggest beef is that he knows so little about building codes. Folks, that is why he is officially not a building inspector, but a code enforcer. He’s an idiot and relies on inspections done by other people. Bureaucratically, he doesn’t have to know code, only whether or not there has been an inspection. What a pathetic goober, I just stay clear of people like that.
There is another rumor that he is never seen in public outside of the job. I know he doesn’t attend any local celebrations nor frequent the library, civic center, coffee shops, or night spots. Since in a town this small it is impossible to be that much of a loner and there are no private clubs. This doesn’t signal to me he is a loner. Rather that at some time in the recent past he’s had the shit kicked out of him.
Most of this project has been making that roof. All the angles and such, I got about half of them wrong the first time. Some of them fit barely well enough. I must master this because I measured very carefully and sometimes I was 2 or 3 inches out. It seemed impossible, so I used a smart stick and marked the pieces, still to have errors.
Speaking of errors, did you see that CNN report that 51% of the Senate want Trump remove?. Wrong, it was 51% of the people who were asked or who responded. CNN is known for interviewing bedwetters. Get ready for another season of politics for sale. This should be amusing, since the only candidate who doesn’t have to come up with dumb-goof talking points and show up in a clown suit is Trump. What America needs is a party that does not want to control the tax system, but eliminate it. Say, whatever happened to Ann Coulter after she started criticizing Trump for inaction, rather than the people who were hindering him. Did she marry a stock broker and move to New Jersey?
Mars north pole.
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I got some of the detail work done, like the hatch and the gable vent. The rule of thumb is the vent is 10% of the floor space. I’m slightly over. I need another 20 cedar pickets, since I decided to finish the gables and some other parts with the same material. Next, I stopped for coffee and to post the blogs, the morons at Google are okay if they know the location but will not activate my mobile device. I go through all the motions, confirming it is me and entering the six-digit code. But all that does is result in a message saying they still can’t confirm it is me, time and time again. It’s obvious what the Google boys really want is a freshly donated sperm sample.
Look up what has to be done to canola (from “Canada oil”, which is really rapeseed oil) to make it non-poisonous. The Canadian government says the oil is perfectly safe. And every Canadian knows the word of their government is as sound as their dollar. It also depends on how much you feel you can trust liberals when they tell you what is good for you. They know so much about what is good for you most of the time they don’t even bother to ask if you are okay with that. Besides, not being okay with their agenda is, like, hate speech.
Want to be on overnight billionaire? The next big market is, I predict, anonymity. Anybody who can provide it will be rich in a wink. Americans didn’t miss their privacy until they gave it away. It’s been several years now with an announcement of stolen data, cyber attacks, and security breaches. These people learned the hard way and now, if they want any hint of secrecy, they will have to pay for it through the nose. I’ve mentioned how so many of them mistook profiling to be a form of ID. They thought they could always change their phone number, or not tell anybody they moved. They truly don’t understand the implications of profiling. Let me give you an example I created and like to repeat.
You push the button to get a receipt from the cashier. Ah, but it isn’t just a button, it is a bio-recording port. It measures 1026 characteristics of your press. The timing, the texture, the pressure, the angle, your body temperature, pulse, fingerprint, the roll, your skin conductivity, the salinity, bacteria count, trace elements, body mass index, and over a thousand other unique identifiers that only the sickest of modern minds can contrive. All of this goes into a permanent profile that you have no control over. When the IoT becomes commonplace, it does not matter if you change your ID. Every ATM, elevator button, touch screen, door knob, keyboard, alarm clock, doorbell, and jukebox will know it is you.
It was a chilly day out there, saved only by the power of the sun. As soon as it got even shady, I had to pack it in. I snapped this photo of the gable vent for you. It is possible to crawl under the coop at this time and stand up inside. This reveals lots of gaps and entry spots for everything from mosquitoes to snakes. I may go the extra distance and line the interior with something that blocks the obvious openings. Or buy spray foam and block every spot I see any light coming in. And don’t let me forget this weekend is open house at the Rendezvous. I should go experience the show on principle alone. I’m not much for primitive camping. I walked in stocking feet from my bedroom which has an insulated floor to the kitchen, which does not, and that was enough roughing it for me.
Later, we have a real cold snap. I’ve learned two things. One is that you can never find the controllers for the electric blankets when you need them. And two heaters on full will trip a 20 Amp breaker. Both bedrooms have a dedicated 20 Amp circuit for the air conditioners that will double as heater lines, working the theory that the two would never be used at the same time. But I have not invested in the heaters, as they would just be in the way until the rooms are finished. Today and the rest of the week are slated to be like Montana. Bright sunny skies but freezing at ground level.
Tomorrow is slated for coldest, which might work out. The chickens are living outdoor and this could be the opportunity to get them inside where it’s warm for a few days. Of course, I’ll keep you posted on that. Strange, when I got the mobile hotspot, my other cell phone account, same company, reset itself to the 18th from the 9th. I still get messages thanking me for my payment, then the service cuts off 9 days later. These are the people who think they can send spaceships to Mars?
Something even scarier. In Denmark, two men operating a website were arrested and given something called a “conditional” prison sentence for, guess what? Merely talking about copyright infringement. They hosted a site that never infringed a thing, but merely offered “instructions, information, news articles (and) links to sites”. Danish thought police. Then again, Europe has always been “a breeding ground for reprehensible political philosophies”. In a move that emulates Canadian law, the Danish Supreme Court even invented a custom crime to fit the accusation. “Contributory copyright infringement.” What’s next, Copenhagen? Arrest some paper boys?
ADDENDUM
It’s cozy here with a pot of apple cranberry tea, let’s do the rounds of Craigslist. First, musicians. I see Abbey Road is again looking for a bass player. That band can’t keep anybody and don’t look at me as they don’t return messages. It’s a Beatles tribute but I’ve never seen the full show. Same with that guitarist who wants to front a power trio. His ad seems to reappear looking for another two flunkies every year. His song list is your standard Petty-Vaughan-Clapton psychotic mix.
There is a country rhythm player advertising, but he’s way out in the boonies east of Winter Haven, beyond my radius limit. But I asked for his song list. That funny looking little man who comps everything is now billing himself as a “50s & 60s rock band”. I wonder if he’ll fool anybody. What’s this, a new open mic in the south end. The advertised deal is you sign up and the stage is yours for 15 minute. Hmmmm. There is yet another dude who sings and plays but he is adamant about doing Irish/Scottish folk most of the time. In my experience, it goes over okay but quickly wears thin.
Later, I think I’ll contact the open mic place and see if they’ll commit to that 15 minutes on stage. That’s more than I need to sell my act. I don’t frequent that part of town much due to traffic. I’m itching to play bass again on stage and you never know, there could be tips. Novelty is the key in the blah Florida musical wastelands. Without going overboard, you need something unique in your act--that’s besides your own belief that it is unique, there, Glen. When they say you can’t get ahead doing the same as everybody else, that kind of means your song list, guys. You see, there are too many people doing the same list, and not only are they the overwhelming majority, most of them are better than you.
Since there are no real musical contact spots any more, as in bulletin boards, Craigslist has become the default despite its woeful inefficiency. However, open mics can be even worse as they are, these days, often emceed by types trying to recruit musicians not as entertainers, but as customers. The location given would get heavy competition from Ybor Cigar, a venue that has become your standard show bar for 1970s clone bands. That’s both the music and the musicians.
