One year ago today: August 13, 2019, Difficult in Tennessee.
Five years ago today: August 13, 2015, drones, before required licensing.
Nine years ago today: August 13, 2011, 69 spelled backwards.
Random years ago today: August 13, 2007, hmmm, they play favorites.
The privilege of rank, I took the morning off. In this instance, I harvested my first radishes. I’ve got a dozen other chores but having the shed lets me catch up. In this case, I micro-weeded the planter and got my first handful of somewhat diminutive specimens. These wound up in a healthy breakfast spread based on avocado seasoned with popcorn salt. May the lure of the shed never wear off, I’ve not got my therapy exercise gear out there. Shelving has to be soon to keep the bench uncluttered. And the spindle to start the edge trimmer is a special built. The male peg is not quite hexagonal, so a 7/16” will not grab and a 15/32”
Next, I finally built my first box on the bench. This was to contain my hand staplers, so I made the interior shallow enough that the lid won’t close if anything bigger is tried. Here’s the view not showing that this unit, including the hardware, took less than two hours including the hardware. That’s double the speed I managed last box and it fewer things go wrong working at counter height. The hardware, including the carry handle are courtesy of one of those cardboard thingees they cover with vinyl and sell as a guitar case.
The wood is new-school, which should more appropriately be called no school—there’s damage there that needs undoing. This box contains several features you can’t really see from here. One is the top and bottom are fitted into slots called rabbets. New-school means videos that show how they magically line up and fit perfectly every time. Most Internet carpenters are level 99 nimrods when it comes to assumption about what you know. They show you how easy it is to cut the rabbets using a table saw. They don’t tell you that you should already be such an expert with the table saw that by now you probably have a table router. Yet, when you are starting out, “you’re supposed to know.”
GPS shoes. (See LED guide arrows.)
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Even better, in the short time of puttering with this box, note how it is sawn so the old nail holes add decoration, thank you, thank you, remain seated, I managed to slap together a second box out of previously cut pieces that, without the bench, was taking forever. How’s that for a 49-word sentence. And lI tended to the other plants, which are beets and onions. Here’s what I think are the onions, only 20% of them got this far. And the beets, talk about temperamental. They got the best and sunniest corner of the box, yet remained tiny weak stalks that fall over from the weight of dew.
But I need it as a desk clock and as with many early such products, the electric cable weighs more than the article. It won’t stand up on its own. So I thought to meld the two It does have a folding desk prop on the back but that was definitely some sort of afterthought. Or I could find something else to test my skill level. Like building picture frames with that inset for the depth of the backing, the trick has a lot to do with knowing where to make the cuts.
You’ve been nice so here is another shot of the stapler box in use. As ever, these boxes are probably several times stronger than they should be, a concept totally not understood by those who should know better. Yessir, that is lots of empty free space inside the box, this is designed with the user in mind, not to save shipping costs. The exercise gear is set up in the shed. Lots of space to swing the pulley system and the temp inside the shed seems to hover at a tolerable 80°F most the both day and night. I’m taking the mitchfruit tree down to the stump in stages, it is still around waist high. I thought the wood might be useful but the ants have got into the core.
Speaking of therapy, I have an MRI scheduled for tomorrow. It’s another hint they are going for surgery. This is what, my eighth or ninth scan in 15 years. I heard the minimum cost for this procedure is some $8,500. Real therapy is when I can connect up radio and music in the shed, maybe get my real bass gear out there. Playing a higher mix of new country music, most of which a just memorize because I can’t get into the groove, has me entering a new phase of my playing. This machine-generating disco bass lends itself to great improvement; it only requires a subtle touch.
In England, Nigel Farage has exposed the putting up of illegal immigrants in four-star hotels. The government has contracted the hotels for 10 years at a cost of billions. So I watch Nigel talk with the Australian guy to put an end to that countries illegal immigrant problem. That situation was similar to England, where France who was supposed to stop the illegals from leaving, was escorting them to British waters. There is a stop-at-nothing demand for people trying to get out of Arab countries. They book a flight to Indonesia, which has no passport requirements for Muslims. Once there by the thousands, it was a matter of piling on a boat and ramming it onto a beach in Australia, then setting boat on fire.
At first, the navy took them to remote islands until they clued in that is exactly what these people wanted. Hold that thought—what illegal immigrants want., because I say the Internet has changed that out of all recognition. Finally the Australians wised up. Load the illegals into big orange rubber dinghies, tow them back to Indonesian waters with just enough gas to get to shore. End of problem
Get back to the motive. History shows that people want to get away from bad countries and go to good countries. The idea was to get there, assimilate, and start a new life. The assimilation was important because it was an admission that where they came from was a loser place. When I traveled in the 80s, a lot of foreigners had heard about the good life in America, but had never in point of fact seen anything on it other than cheesy television reruns. The Internet changed that. They see what they want—and learn that America is a welfare state. They don’t need to learn a job skill or go there to work, just get there and live off the system.
They don’t even need to learn English. Even better, they let you form ghettos so no need to assimilate. Americans are so stupid we pay them to support the culture and traditions of the place so wretched they ran from it. The solution? I don’t know, but there is another Internet factor I feel is involved. Americans are free because they kicked out their oppressors, but this lesson seems not so well understood overseas—here’s the connection. When you talk to people overseas they generally hate America for destroying their old traditions by moving in with oil companies, mining companies, and all kinds of plantations. I’ve seen it so often since the arrival of the Internet that I cannot ignore it as a driving force. They can get back at America by showing up here and living off the system.
It’s a game of odds. There are exceptions, but they are far too few. Relax, it’s just my opinion and all I know how to do is play bass. Nor is this my only or final opinion on the matter and my purpose is not to define any behavior, but to predict it. If this difference escapes you, well, like the blog header implies this may not be a place you belong.
ADDENDUM
Not that anything can come of it now, but recently the local girl band is back in the picture, and by the looks of things, back in town. Yep, I remember how they asked me to play bass and stood me up. Seems they may remember that as well, one of their relatives half-asked if I harbored a grudge. I didn’t want to say no out of politeness, so I pointed out that there was more to it than not answering the door. The person was aware of the event (ah, so they were at home). I added that when they had invited me to play, I got a copy of their song list. Memory fails but I did not know at least a third of the music.
So I busted my chops for the next week to nail that music, seems to me something like nearly 30 hours of intense work. Plus I had turned down a couple other opportunities. Why is this bloggable? Many reasons, one is all this came completely out of the blue, another is the relative in question has heard me play. The girl-band has only heard me sing and I don’t bill myself a vocalist. Are there any conclusions here that could be jumped to? Maybe the band is not waiting till next year to break up?
This is not the opportunity it once was. Three years ago, I needed a local band, any one of them could have had me for the asking. And the girl band has lost their direction, big time. Also, I do not know if it would entail now putting up with a guitarist. The one they’ve got can barely manage better than myself strumming on a good day. Well, ladies, that’s what you get when you are talking when you should be listening. Put another way, while the dude you have adds nothing and actually takes away from your act where I feel I could have added a whole new dimension if you’d bothered to try.
And the polls, don’t forget the polls. They declare that Biden maintains a clear lead nationally. They being the MSM lackey propaganda arm of the far left. You know who you are, the Hill, NYT, Post, Huff, etc. The same polls that proved beyond doubt that Trump could never win in 2016. Did you see that asinine Huff reporter that asked if he regrets all his lies? That is definitely over the line and abuse of freedom of the press. Such questions are not allowed in a courtroom, “Have you stopped beating your wife?
According to Politico, Biden is ahead with 49% of the registered vote, Trump is at 42%. That’s the kind of stat you get when you select your sample data from die-hard liberal districts. You know, the areas where you send mail-in voting ballots only to registered Democrats. Ha, these people are squirming and all politics aside, how I love to see a bleeding heart liberal squirm. Want some real statistics? At Trump’s press briefing this morning, 20,000 people clicked on, while the turnout to Biden’s vice-president announcement was attended most by a dozen of the party faithful and some jokers who call themselves reporters.
Big media is scrambling for tidbits they can twist but it seems they’ve outdone themselves so often it’s become a pattern anybody can spot. They’re peeing their beds, I’ve always distrusted the leftist press since I delivered newspapers on my bicycle.
