One year ago today: June 23, 2021, the new welfare subclass.
Five years ago today: June 23, 2017, shark’s teeth.
Nine years ago today: June 23, 2013, two hours late.
Random years ago today: June 23, 2011, 2,230 miles.
Sunup to close to noon, I used the cooler morning to rake most of the front yard and gather the back leaves and deadfall into heaps. I love the new air compressor for keep tools clean as all the sheds that don’t have a tarpaper lining have shown themselves to be dust traps. The humid Florida air is an unknown to me, but it causes visible vapor to spray from the compressor and any valve. I confess I did not oil the old pancake compressor of 2015 after every use and it finally seized up. I salvaged the pressure gauge and regulator, so expect new on that once I decide the best spot for the compressor to set.
My plan is to brave the heat and see what can be done with the washing machine. It is set on the deck, I believe I mentioned the plumbing is there and ready, although I’m still missing my CPVC cutter that I so carefully put away. Somewheres. My goal is to at least get the cold water running and run an extension cord over. The electric socket is mislabeled at the sub-panel, so I’ll rope the guitar player tomorrow if I can to find what works.
I’ve discovered he is working his way through college, same as I did. He’s capable of heavy labor, since the reason he canceled the first practice was a chance to unload ten tons of bamboo off a 40-foot trailer, a two day job. Good, that could mean he does odd jobs and my kitchen floor is not level yet.
The new neighbors on the northwest are not the best. They seem to be burglarized a lot and I found out at least one explanation. The lady’s daughter is a user and regularly raids the yard despite a restraining order. This struck me odd in this neigborhood, which is all settled and elderly as far as that goes. Until this morning when I saw the daughter. If you presumed 30-ish years old and reckless so did I. Nope, I heard the cops talking and the daughter is 57. Well, they got her this time.
No bake cheese cake.
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It required two trips downtown but I have the washer tops operating. But not the washer, it looks brand new but something is haywire. I think the drain pump is stuck on. Six hours and I sprained my other shoulder. Remember the collision, I fell first on my left, then flipped to my right. That rarely bothers me but it sure is bothersome for a minor condition. The bad news is there is something wrong with the washer, the drum does not fill, the water runs directly out the drain. It’s some kind orf sensor, I’ll bet.
A weekend off sounds good. I have no choice, as I did sprain my shoulder--folks, it really hurts. I managed to get a hitch my back as well. Let’s chart the weekend for working on my memoirs. Coffee, check. Eggs, check, Rice, check. Muffin mix, check. Hey, on that last one make it a half check. Let’s take a closer look at that label. There, in the lower right hand corner. It says six muffins. I thought the package felt light when I bought it, what a sneaky burn. Let’s see Biden blame that one on Putin. Yes, the red wave is coming.
For the record, I’m really in pain. Another percent and I’d check myself into emergency. And it is my left shoulder and shoulder blade. Now I have a matching set. The washer is not that heavy, I loaded it into the van myself. What have I done to myself? And tomorrow is slated for first rehearsal with the new guy, no nickname yet. Wait, his last name is Wilson, for he is now Wilford. Wilford, play that guitar, he responds well to instruction. I have a moment, here’s why I think that is important.
At some point in the past we must have talked about band formation, because he remembers my coaching. Items like, if you must choose between nailing the song better or pleasing the audience, choose the audience. He must have been listening because he knew I have justified that by pointing out it took too long to shoot for perfection, and that there are some general basic rules that make the path smoother. You may remember one such rule that says when in doubt, play “drums” on the guitar. Boom-chicka, boom-chicka.
