April 25, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 25, 2019, a generic post.
Five years ago today: April 25, 2015, guess which questions.
Nine years ago today: April 25, 2011, remember 500 gigabytes?
Random years ago today: April 25, 2008, Picayune Forest.

           Bonus. The neighbor asked if I’d fix this broken link in his fence. Sure, I have the tools. Then he paid me $130. Not bad for two hours easy work, though is was pretty hot and I did have to, you know, expend effort. And sweat, yeah, it was hot. That means I now have the new Tennessee compound miter saw, see photo and some treated framing lumber for the shed. Plus 20 new fence pickets, my box material of choice. I wonder about that neighbor guy, he is helpless and feeble—and only five years older than me. He’s not overweight or anything but I doubt he has gotten any real exercise for a long time.

           I also picked up some basic plumbing pipe for the shower and sink planned for the shed and its solar heated water. This will drain to a buried pit in the back yard, I have proper blueprints for the project. And I have just enough 1-1/2” PCV left over, including a U-trap. That includes taps and some fixtures which I either bought at the thrift or were the wrong size once I go home.

           The birdhouse blind. After careful thought, I decided not to mount the purple martin condo on the roof, but on top of poles made from the plentiful tree trunks from pruning in the yard. I had one handy, the other I finally got up the ladder and topped that grapefruit tree in the back yard. The one Mitch liked so much, but it was so dead the bark was girdling. I put it out of its misery, but recycled the longest piece for the birdhouse. It would have wanted to go that way. But I’m not soon to forget how many people promised they would help me trim the trees that have not shown up in years.
           Here is a view of the new lean-to area with some fence panels up for privacy. I don’t distrust the neighbors, but prefer to do this kind of work without anyone able to peer in casually. The neighbor might make a good ally in the sense that he “remembers” things being there for years that I know I just put in. He still isn’t convinced I build most of these things from scratch. As shown here, the panels are not permanent, secured only by a single screw along the rafter. Behind here is where the all the plumbing and electrical will proceed. Oh yes, I’m glad I planned ahead with all the extra (and more expensive) scaling for expansion.

           There is a spare breaker for each section of the shed, with capability to handle twice as many 20 amp outlets than required by code. The plumbing works off the tree stump, you remember the one that the tree grew around, proof that it’s been there for many years before me. I’m opting for ground-contact treated lumber, I’ll need only 13 pieces. I have all the 12-2 cables, switches, outlets, boxes, and cover plates and this time the know-how to do it right the first time.

           The flooring will be solid oak, the only legacy from the original house. I’d like to do more, but folks, the pieces are just not in good enough shape after so long. I’ll try to preserve the look and finish as long as it doesn’t turn into a major restoral project. I’ve go enough of those already. Drop back tomorrow or so for a view of how I’m attaching that tree stump water supply. It looks like just another garden sprinkler connection. See how the American system creates its own enemies? I don’t recall voting for code enforcement, hell, I don’t even recall being asked.
           What do I hear? That it is my onus to keep on top of these bylaws? That is why if I saw the code inspector’s house on fire, I would call the fire department. On Monday morning, after I took time off to stand in line to find out if I needed a permit. I just know he would have wanted it that way.

           And I have something more to say about how insipid it’s become. I am a speed typist, and have been since I was 14. I’m sure some would argue the point, but I believe in the millions of words typed since then, I have a touch for what is standard. I could even claim my attack [the characteristic pressure and angle I use the keyboard] is as generic as it gets, having used just about every brand of typewriter and keyboard in existence. Yet, when I use Bluetooth™ keyboards, certain letters appear double. I type an ‘s’ and get ‘ss’. Or I type an ‘n’ and get ‘n’ and a space. What is it they know that I don’t? How to type with my thumbs? Some new typing method I never heard of? I guessss we’ll n ever kn ow.

Picture of the day.
Rannoch Moor railway station.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           You could say that healthful eating from Tennessee has its benefits back here in the Sunshine State. Here is your non-GMO chicken scratch. They are so spoiled on wild bird seed they pick at this product, there’s one of the six grains they won’t touch. It isn’t the milo. For those who don’t know from reading this blog a lot, don’t feed wild birds seed that contains milo. It gives the birds heartburn. Matilda, the red hen (actually brownish orange you’ve seen the videos) loves to play with this food. Must be some primordial instinct. But hey, who doesn’t wuv the contented clucking sound of a happy chicken?

           I took another look at the list that guitar player from Lakeland sent me a while back. All new country tunes I’ve never heard. I gave some a listen back then but it was mostly slow music. The concept here is that this new country may be complicated to record, but it is easy to fake live. There are only three or four basic themes, all copies of rockabilly. Now that my solo act is ready, it is tempting to slap together a quick version of his list. I’ll explain.

           Normally you get guitarists who claim to be versatile, but they do a lot of comping. It’s a guitar-centric list, nothing but what you would expect from a guitar player. He groups the tunes by artist, duh, three people just clapped for a Toby tune. Forget the crowd mood, let’s play another Toby. You know what I’m talking about. I’ll step through the list, so far it’s a ton of slow grinding tunes with horn sections—I wonder if he knows what playing in a duo is even about. But then, as a guitarist, his secret plan is to expand until he gets his dream backup.
           His list is mood music, nothing to fire up a crowd. I grew up ignoring Clapton and still never heard of “Bad Love”, which is a pretty drastic condemnation. By tune 18 of his list 58 (I normalized it with a spreadsheet), it is the usual. Not a list of what people want to hear, but a list of his personal favorites. You can’t get more guitar-brained than that. It’s similar to bird-brained, except the chickens don’t need to prove a thing. Here chick-chick, actually, I have them trained when I clap.

Last Laugh