One year ago today: February 1, 2022, things in cans.
Five years ago today: February 1, 2018, a generic day.
Nine years ago today: February 1, 2014, sold out.
Random years ago today: February 1, 1982, the beach in Pt. Roberts.
If the day goes as planned, I’ll be in Zephyrhills to pick up a burn barrel. The big fire concept was not that great plus having to stick around to tend the fire even after the flame part died down. Just a 55 gallon drum and a reason to drive out that way for the afternoon. This morning I need to finish raccoon-proofing the shed. With my renewed statin Rx and this work, my coffee consumption has leapt back to former levels of more than six cups a day. It’s a craving, but mostly my own fault. It’s how I get my dairy products, folks.
Why look, there’s the barrel now. Good photography, since this picture was not taken until tomorrow. I had to crop the edges to stop you from being distracted by my excellent cactus plant and brand new steps. Note the plastic food-grade lining of the barrel. This is good business, order factory honey by the barrel, add a few drops of coloring to darken it a bit, and siphon into small bottles. Slap on a label saying “clover” honey and sell it for $8 each to the city folk.
TMOR (to my overseas readers), most of America did not fall for the pandemic hoax. The media you see is leftist and known to be fake news. But this is America and they are free to do things like that. NPR has produced a series of radio-plays centered on COVID scenarios that are so pathetic I’ll describe one. It is this lady, Mitso, with an obvious Japanese accent, came to America to help us diversify. She is busy baking cookies for the children, using handwritten recipes that her own mother loving saved between the pages of the family bible. Suddenly the phone rings.
It is her brother-in-law, his thrice-vaccinated wife has been attacked by the COVID virus and he is rushing her to emergency. She had attended a climate change rally where some of the counter-protesters had brazenly been unmasked and is now fighting for her very life. Our lady’s husband returns from his job at the wind turbine factory and wants to make haste to his brother, who is now in the hospital praying for forgiveness. No cries Mitso, it is too dangerous. I turned off the radio.
The shed was dusty work, I finished the back of the shed, blocking any of the possible entries through the rafter ends. Good thing I left enough space there for a ladder along the fence. Most people would not have enjoyed the roughly 80 times up and down the ladder this week. I’ve decided to buy a small vacuum to replace the larger unit, which quit working just like that. This will be what, the second new vaccum I’ve bought in my life, so it makes the news. The nervy raccoons have figured out I can’t swat at them if the windows are closed, so I put some mouse traps on the ledges. They can easily get them off but first, that nasty sting.
Caltier Fund. We have a total of $22 return so far, but that belies the true value of this investment. It is consistent, protected, and monitored more that some would say necessary. But there is no such thing as a carefree investment. Keep your eyes open, or as I like to put it, there’ll be no Enron here. The related bank, I must say has really cleaned up their act. When we opened the account, they gave us fair warnings their system was being changed, and yes, it was a mess and you’ve heard me say so. Well, as of this week, they got it together. My estimation is they got rid of their millie coders and hired one real programmer to get the damn thing up to speed. And it is slick. Meshes directly with the ATM—a lot of people don’t know the ATMs do not belong to the bank and use a separate system. Caution, ATM deposits have a holding period.
Door knocker.
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I hopped in the van and it was 22 miles out to Zephyrhills for the burn barrel. No lid. If I forgot to record it, the trip to Melbourne last weekend round trip was exactly 250 miles. I don’t know Zephyrhills, but I’d say the building codes are a little more relaxed than around here. The guy is running a used truck tire business out of his yard. On the return leg I took a small tour of Plant City. Since 2018 and Tennessee, I’ve never really got back there for that planned walkaround. It has a nice-looking downtown. I drove past the old Silver Dollar, remember the barmaid that leapt over the counter? That place.
If it had not been so early, I might have stopped in Plant City. Instead, I took the scenic route, locally called the “New Tampa Highway”, on a map it shows as route 92. A balmy 82°F in the van, listening to the BKT murder-mystery and learning a lot about how and why cops so often lean on the wrong suspect. The 30 mile trip took me through an industrial area and by the looks of things, these are lean and hungry times.
The Home Depot in the south end (of Lakeland) has consistently good deals. I picked up $30 worth of lumber, enough to frame in the silo ceiling and put backing behind all the shelves. And insulation, all working together as a wee more anti-raccoon insurance. I’ve decided to put up at least a temporary canopy for the power saw, though the only logical spot for it means I’ll have to walk around to get to the back shed.
I’m back home after dark, my shoulders reminded me driving around and loading ten pieces of lumber is also work after a certain age. I checked the mousetraps and the raccoons are not only fine, they are now smarter. I think I’ll try these on the squirrels who get up on the roof. They will, of course learn to avoid the traps, but I think it’s important to keep them on edge. Nature is big, they don’t need to be raiding my birdfeeders.
The shed was dusty work, I finished the back of the shed, blocking any of the possible entries through the rafter ends. Good thing I left enough space there for a ladder along the fence. Most people would not have enjoyed the roughly 80 times up and down the ladder this week. I’ve decided to buy a small vacuum to replace the larger unit, which quit working just like that. This will be what, the second new vaccum I’ve bought in my life, so it makes the news. The nervy raccoons have figured out I can’t swat at them if the windows are closed, so I put some mouse traps on the ledges. They can easily get them off but first, that nasty sting.
