One year ago today: February 11, 2022, I like shopping.
Five years ago today: February 11, 2018, best birdfeeder ever.
Nine years ago today: February 11, 2014, they stare at you.
Random years ago today: February 11, 2015, not enough spokes.
Not that there’s any correlation, but a Los Angeles lady who advocated anarchy is dead. Killed in a purse-snatching by black robbers, who dragged her away as she tried to grab her purse back through their car window. Her web fund says they hope her killers are not given the death penalty. Yes folks, it is time to cull the herd. There is now a new class of people who had nothing to hide. Waiters (and waitresses). I laugh because this is the bunch who traditionally support government policy. Good, because they willingly put themselves on file by not knowing a setup when they see one. Under tax law, tips are not income, but gifts, but odds are they don’t know that either. It’s a case of play stupid games, with stupid prizes. By the time they figure it out, and the tax people know this, the tax will have become a standard.
I’ve found a few items I’m going to sell, including the Beat Buddy. It is just not workable for what I want and I never did connect with anyone who could program these things. I know the coding can’t be difficult but there is no place to show me how to make it into a workable object. Other than minor Arduino “blinkenlitze”, I’ve never programmed anything except what works on a computer. Nothing practical, tool-wise, is what I mean. I fixed the bird mister, which will make me very popular around mid-afternoon. The leftover pancakes from breakfast are in the woodpecker feeder—although they have taken a liking to the wildbird tube. Mrs. Downey is a polite tender eater. She has a gentle disposition and will share with the titmouses and the smaller finches provided they use the opposite side perches.
She’s small, just around 4/5ths the size the bird book says. She’s discovered she has peace and quiet momentarily if she uses the window side of the feeder. The other birds are wary of their own reflections. I identify with her choice because, as you know, I grew up in a confined space with a large family. Privacy was a pipe dream, and with seven others in the house there was never any quiet time. That many people meant there was always somebody in the background burping, farting, screaming, coughing, bitching, spitting, stomping, snoring, bellowing. Always somebody sick or moaning or pestering you for something. I wish I knew of some way to provide her solitude. I don’t dare tame her and bring her inside.
The sale of these items, which I hope includes the Town & Country, is meant to go directly into the Caltier Fund. That has now become a bit routine and I repeat the online transfer in of funds for investment is a far more unwieldy operation than the old postal-manual system. And if I didn’t say, takes five days longer. Let me double-check that. Yep, the funds in-transferred y’day will not appear until the 17th. I call it the Enron-gap.
Almond milk can no longer be called milk. It is now almond beverage. Too many Democrats were too dumb to figure it out on their own.
Afghan refugee camp
(in Pakistan)
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Three hours and fifty minutes, so I went a bit over today. I’ll pay the toll tomorrow, but I have a roof over the table saw. It’s only weighted down for now as the wind picks up. I think the roof, sort of a lean-to, will have to be extended to ten feed long and requiring an extra breaker. I have all the materials, including the wiring. For now I’m glad the saw is under cover. The ten foot length will tempt me to put th
e chop saw out there as well. Here’s a view of the area, with a temporary tarp and under the canopy with the saw.
I’ve completed the outline for my Prepper Navigation book. It’s not for everyone, but 10,000 copies sold would make me jolly. The format follows all the disgusting things I’ve learned about publishing from MicroSoft plus dozens more from the lame advertising and promo crap on-line. Like fireplace books, for every thousand sold, one might actually be built. Well, you can’t be the only prepper on your block less than totally prepared. Think of how many idiot Boomers got sold a Geiger counter. Now you’re getting it.
Hear that racket? I forgot to set out fresh black oil sunflower seeds for Mrs. Red. I just got out of the shower, but no delay allowed. Sopping wet, I was out there wrapped in towels. Last day I rigged up the time lapse camera to see how all those leaves are getting onto the laundry deck. No results. The one-minute timer is the wrong frequency to detect the movement. I kind of learned it is not from blowing leaves, but drifting. Does anyone know anything about countering that? Not me.
ADDENDUM
Mers-el-Kebir. Usually known as Oran, it’s a harbor in North Africa best known for the British opening fire on the French fleet anchored there after the Vichy government signed an armistice with Germany. This event came up because my filter detected references to the Morse code messages between the fleets. I find it astounding that nobody figured out the British had broken their secret codes, just astounding. I could find no video or audio of the transmission, but wound up reading it. Anyone who thinks it was Hitler who started the war should read what the British had to say. The British Empire was bankrupt and needed a war.
Few things could portray the British arrogance and attitude than the ultimatums they issued to anyone who stood in their way. The French were basically told they were liars for saying they would not join Germany or Italy and to turn over their ships to the British. Who had every intention of crewing them with English sailors and sending them off to war—which was in contradiction to the terms France had signed in the armistice. And, since the British were reading the messages, they knew damn well they were putting France on the spot.
The French did not figure out how the British had a reply ready for every communication from the home country. If there was ever an exchange of words that epitomized the arrogance of the English, this is it. Not only will they tell you what to do, you are insolent for not recognizing their right to do so. And those who think America was not already in the war on England’s side have their head up somebody’s arse.
What would I have done? I would have sent some fake signals and watched the British reaction. Report a bunch of submarines in the area or the approach of dive bombers. Once I knew they were listening there would be a number of options. Fake them out so the squadron could escape. As it is, the French did not even deploy a smokescreen. In the end, the British justified the attack in this way: The Articles of War state that a neutral ship under control of an enemy can be fired upon. The Germans told the French to obey the rules. Therefore, the French ships were obeying German commands. Open fire!
