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Yesteryear

Monday, September 5, 2022

September 6, 2022

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 6, 2021, bye-bye Australia.
Five years ago today: September 6, 2017, Florida gas hoarding.
Nine years ago today: September 6, 2013, on silica gel.
Random years ago today: September 6, 2015, borrowed money.

           A dry dawn, the day after I described it. I was out there before sunrise with a mission to catch up. Well, almost. I’m an early morning person but not a mid-morning type. I dismantled the last two pallets, threw on the laundry and traced out why that dedicated outlet won’t work. I cleaned the van, you know it has that same non-sensical setting as the Town & Country. That stupid setting where you can lock the driver and passenger doors but the other three doors stay open. Many a time you go back for the spare key to find the side door was always open. Worse, unless you test the doors, there is no way to tell by looking if they are locked when you want it. I got the outdoor search done for that roll of solder. If I can’t find it today, the pipes may be getting treated to the finest silver robot alloy.
           It’s butterfly season, who also like the yard, and another mystery flower is in bloom. I set up a tray to try cloning the Madagascar periwinkles. I’m back inside for coffee and that’s it unless I take a load out of the dryer. Maybe watch a bit more of this silly movie, which I’m beginning to suspect is one of them stealth religion movies making the rounds. I’m far enough into the movie to spot none of the women are really all that good-looking, usually a tip-off. If I don’t see a teenage babe soon, I’ll really get suspicious. The best actors so far are the bad guys.

           Moments later I get ready to go shopping and the door handle breaks on the KIA. On-line I find out this is not uncommon, as the entire latch is made of plastic. I’ve been millennialized and it is not even noon. I found the piece that broke off and right now I can tell you the factory knows this is a problem. I can’t fix this today so it is fun going in through the passenger door to open up from the inside. Maybe it’s just me but if there was one part of a door handle I would make out of solid metal, it would be the working part.

Picture of the day.
Mother Theresa statue.
(Now St. Theresa.)
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           I can’t put the new saw under the canopy without moving something else out. I have 2x4” lumber left from the tree house. Yes, it was that big of a treehouse, so I have enough to build a small spot. It will be in the way no matter where I put it. Pricing out these blades that came with the saw rings up $160 and most of them are brand new. Maybe put the saw in the red shed for now. The logic is I also have a pile of leftover end pieces that could potentially be siding. I’m recalling this shed the Reb & I saw in Smithville, wish now I’d taken a picture. It’s like shingles, except not beveled. Not today, however. We got within 1ºF of the record hot and nobody was outside much past noon.
           That’s when I proceed to mess up my day. I have only one sleep mode and that’s deep. Deep and relaxing, so I use an alarm when I just want a nap. I forgot. The upshot is this throws my circadian rhythm and now it is now 9:30PM. Guess who is wide awake? Even reading about the string quartet in “The Yellow Admiral” failed to make be doze off. I’m half done the book and the style of writing has changed slightly. But it’s a chore following the talk and expressions. They go on about (I think) things like a broken marmalade jar. In another guess, I suspect the book is influenced by some actual but unnamed ship. One of the crew who plays a left-handed oboe falls from the mast and is buried in two sentences, but they get another jar of marmelade.
           The paragraphs are now longer and the story has moved to some ships that are blockading France. There’s quite a bit of information if you are into sailing ships, it is kind of quirky how steamships were around but this book assumes sails will be forever. The inside cover has a chart so you’ll know your mizzen from your spanker. Chances are you’ll read past many figures of speech without knowing. It took me a moment to realize they meant difficult by saying it was like trying to “explain the tides in Timbuktoo”.

Last Laugh