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Yesteryear

Sunday, August 1, 2021

August 1, 2021

Yesteryear
One year ago today: August 1, 2020, St. Augustine.
Five years ago today: August 1, 2016, fixing the floor.
Nine years ago today: August 1, 2012, my last big bingo.
Random years ago today: August 1, 2004, five gallons per day.

           JeePee is outside in his castle. Despite the worry that he can escape all that easily, I designed the frame so the metal mesh goes between the wood, not just up to it. While he coulg gnaw through wood with those incisors, it would take so long and he’d just finally hit steel. By now, he definitely knows the venue and crawls around in true turtle free-spirit fashion. Good morning from Tennessee. A lovely day, at 72°, it will get hotter but for now even I’ll spend a few hours out there. Just in time, there is a hot spell on the other side of the mountains. JeePee is dead center in this picture, can you see him?
           That reminds me, I was expecting at least some mountains on my diagonal trip through Alabama. I found some rolling foothills for maybe 50 miles, then back out onto flat farmland in the northwest. If there are rugged mountains, they are in the part of the state I’ve never been, as in up near Chattanooga. A bit of research says it was the Tennessee River I crossed when bypassing Decatur. There’s a dam near Muscle Shoals that creates a pretty large lake. If they would put some decent signs up (no, not advertising), people would go take a look. I would have, I like scenery of the sort.

           Here’s the shed, packed to the gills with nobody remembers what. There is a bicycle in there, and some Halloween ornaments that are not likely in good shape any more. Where I don’t mind spiders, other’s have a real aversion. So I get to be the one who goes in first. Note the idyllic setting, this is typical of her yard, not mine. I live in the jungle, she lives in a forest. If you don’t know the difference, try weild a machete for an hour.
           I repaired the electrical in the porch for the nth time, I should have run a new breaker in there years ago. But really the landlord should do things like that so maybe if he paid me. Now that I know how much work is involved. By now I would have told you this whole place was wired by Mickey Mouse. My ulterior motive is if she throws out enough junk from that shed, I will finally be able to rig up a small work area with a bench. This is what passes for excitement at my stage in life, but don’t judge too harshly, I worked a long time to be able to take it easy on demand.

           Once again, the Arizona audit people are losing their psychological advantage by taking so long. Now, if there is fraud, the news has to be volcanic. This has dragged on far too long, the only high points is when Trump drops a hint every other week or so.The upsurge in vax and mask mandates tips up off the Biden bunch are beyond desperate, if not fighting for their lives. Don’t brush that off, there are many who think those people should hang for what they did to people’s lives and businesses in their now-exposed grab for power. My thinking this their skills are doding questions could soon be applied to dodging hot lead.

Picture of the day.
Helena, Montana, 1907.
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           Have you seen that joke they are making of the military? Look it up, it is below my blog standards to give much press to morons who claim to lead the army but wear a welder’s mask because he’s afraid of catching a flu. What I have for you is a tale from the trailer court. Part of this community surrounded a small graveyard, maybe twenty plots. But they are Civil War era and that gives them special favor in this country. Some society as retained to keep the place in condition and it appears they have not done so. They act as if it is up to the community to rake and mow, all they do is come by and, I dunno. Inspect? Anyhow the work was not happening.
           We sometimes peek in to see if anything got done. Now I have a graveyard story for you. You see, the place got quite overgrown, so some well-meaning ladies from the community went into the graveyard and cleaned it up. They raked up all the leaves and stones and carted it all off in the trash. What was left as a nice little graveyard, with one wee little hitch.

           You see, they had raked up what they saw as rubble. After 150 years this included broken chunks of old gravestones. Here’s one they missed, born 1841 died 1920, but it’s anybody’s guess who it was or which grave it once belonged to. They thought they were tidying up for the historical society, who finally arrived horrified at the scene, partiallycaused by their own delay and negligence.
           That folks, is why you always double-check on volunteers, natural-born idiots, and people who staff information booths, or you get stuck cleaning up the mess. Now speaking of a mess, I got the shed cleaned out. Never thought I’d get that far without some help, but I had the doggies lying in the shade for moral support. I found the water leaking problem that was getting to things stored in there even up on shelves. It was the flooring. Normally this activity isn’t bloggable because it is not big deal—until it has to get done. Shown here, I’m pointing to where the deck has separated from the shed walls at the far back, hardest spot to get to.

           It is now patched but I would not say permanently repaired. Think of the situation. There is no routine maintenance on this property, nor do we know if the shed was put in by the current owner or previously. But they messed up. If you look through the crack you see some concrete blocks behind the floor plate that should be underneath it. That is what turns it into a big deal. I am no burley construction worker, I’m a bass player with a permanently disabled shoulder. And the Reb weighs what a woman is supposed to weigh, so using an 8-foot log as a lever to raise a shed while shoving concrete blocks into place is not our chosen path.
           I can’t wear a shirt in this heat, so I went behind the shed through the bushes to clear a path. Yep, poison ivy or oak or something. That’s where I see the original builder gave up with the blocks upon finding you cannot dig into that soil without a sharp spade. You will not see any pics of the Reb & I working a shovel, but it happened. We got the flooring high enough and flat enough to pass muster, that’s it. Let the next guy worry about it now, it will last as long as me anyway. The shed is so cheap, it has no real frame. What looks like framing is only held in place by nails through the exterior panels, there are no top or bottom plates. For the work done today, I would have charged $300.
           Then, a two hour spell and right back into moving stuff around, what to keep and what to chuck. By this time of day the mosquitos and gnats are immune to repellent. I assured the Reb by 6-ish, if we were not out for dinner again, come look for me over in the lounge. We construction workers like out Budweiser and this sort of activity gives a fellow a deep, deep thirst. I have a theory on that. If you do construction work and stop for a beer, you must not change out of your work boots or put on a different shirt. If you do, the beer will taste funny and never be as ice cold as you like it. Put it to the test.

Last Laugh
(Chicago train.)