May 7, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 7, 2022, I’ve seen Eufala.
Five years ago today: May 7, 2018, a rambling post.
Nine years ago today: May 7, 2014, I need a house.
Random years ago today: May 7, 2017, 16,242 miles.

           The pace this morning made up for any foot-dragging this week. The tools are moved for the post holes, Howie found the fuel pump for the tractor (albeit at twice the price), I transplanted a corn stalk that decided my doorway was a good spot, cut some panels for the silo interior, qne managed to lose a needed section of copper pipe. Eighty degrees by noon and I’m going downtown for supplies. A full day already. Earlier, I wrote some letters so remind me to drop those in the box. Will I have energy to dig those post holes in the north yard? Only more coffee will tell.

           I put up more panels and biscuit joined a shelf for the silo, it’s on the clamps just now. At 1:30PM I’m taking time off. Grab an avocado for lunch and a quick inventory shows I have $80 for materials. The A/C in the van sounds pretty good right about now. So does a cold beer. It remains to be seen how I reconcile these temptations. Howard agrees, sell the hot dog cart, he realizes it is as much work as I described. True, he has family, but to me that only says reliability becomes an issue.
           Later, this picture is some wild corn sprang up near the door. I had dropped some popcorn seeds there a few months back. It is now transplanted to near the step, see if it takes. The other photo shows the blue tarp over the air compressor lean-to. I think I will remove the part of the chain link fence that runs along the building. It just gets in the way. These photos reflect the focus on yard work when the spring and fall weather make it possible.

           That drawer I slapped together in the white shed is the handiest thing. But I also remember the half-day of screwing around to get it to work. Somehow I psychologically am more organized with drawers than shelves and bins. By 2:00PM I have not moved, this heat is something else. The bedroom A/C is worn down, that’s the temp unit I set up a few years back. It now has one setting which is “FULL BLAST”. And it is calling me, ever so gently. Am I ever glad I made a double batch of muffins last day. Did I tell you I switched to oat milk for baking? I know it’s been getting a bad rap, but milk is even worse now that labeling laws have changed.
           Oat milk makes for a lighter end product. I tend to spike muffin mix with everything from craisins to sunflower, so it’s not like I’m skimping on nutrition. I’ve never drank it as a beverage, it kind of looks wimpy. But I made French toast with it this morning. Measuring out the work bench area for the north yard, I have most of what I need already. The hillbilly found a source of long pallets, he says the stretchers are 12 feet. If so, it’s work waiting for that. And switching to fence posts works quite well for most places where an 8-foot 4x4” post is not really needed.

Picture of the day.
Near Quartzite, Arizona.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Remind me to get more black oil sunflower. The birdie paradise is drawing them in batches when it gets this warm. The best motivator is hunger so I’m hoping the recent friendliness of the red cardinals isn’t a sign of anything wrong out there. I’m feeding the cats again next weekend, it’s time for Howie’s birthday do over in Orlando. His band has not been playing much since COVID. Did you hear the idiots in DC are going to try another pandemic as their rating fall to historic lows. They’ve stepped up the mass shootings but that only partially works any more as the population is suspicious how these crazies show up so well-equipped.

           Bud Light sales continue to slump but that horrid near-beer is still the top-selling American brand. The parent company is trying all manner of tactics but they are unlikely to get anywhere. They’ve put the marketing idiot, herself a masculine-looking thing, on leave and released commercials of young people frolicking about. Here’s cans marked down 50% and I’ve seen it advertised for 31¢ a can, which including delivery is probably at cost. If only Americans could unite like this over some relevant issues.

           My siesta turned into an afternoon in the sack with just the fan humming away. Another 18 year-old blonde babe has been murdered by her black boyfriend adding to the conviction that these women never learn. Nor are they getting any sympathy from other women who view mudsharking as being a traitor to one’s race. The media has portrayed these mixed couples for years as normal and happy, it is appalling how many women fall for that. In a year, one might see two or three such couples in real life, and the women are not beauty queens.

           My monthly search for the cheapest property that meets my criteria came up with a house in New Mexico. I would have skipped it but that is the exact area I once drove by sidecar for hours barely seeing traffic on the highway for hours, that was Halloween, 2013, a highwater mark for motorcycle adventure. That’s back when it was still safe to drive by uncovered vehicle before the Democrats brought back crime. I don’t recall a town named Des Moines but it shows as one of the nine smallest in the state. The blog mentions Dumas, another place I don’t recall. A map search shows no Dumas, but I don’t make these things up.

           Later, I worked past dark and got two of the posts in the north yard done. I managed to get one clear space more than 8 feet long so I don’t have to shoehorn lumber the way I do now. They must have sprayed, the mosquito count was way down. If the hillbilly had shown up, we’d have gone out to Bartow for a few cold ones. There’s no motive to go by myself, see how Tennessee has me spoiled. Now I won’t go out as much unless I got a total babe along. I thought, let’s be fair. It isn’t Tennessee, really. Tennessee only changed the frequency.
           There is a website called mantelligence along with some related crap that publish lists of signs that a woman does not like you. I’ve compiled the top ten of what surprises me that so many men have to be told.

1. Tells you she has a boyfriend.
2. Takes over a day to text you back.
3. Tells you she is not interested.
4. Avoids all physical contact.
5. Shuns any hint of more than friends.

           Pardon me if I laugh. I’ll repeat the same criteria I have for meeting women that I had when I was 18. I want an immediate, positive, exclusive response, or I just move on. Life is too short. That’s immediate as in she like you right now, not five minutes from now. Positive, as in no barriers, and exclusive, there is nobody else in the room. Sound harsh? Nonsense, it works for me and helped me avoid 99% of the bullshit other men put up with. Naturally I think it amusing to hear of how badly other men are at this. More for me.

ADDENDUM
           The Yesteryear feature remains easily the most popular feature of this blog. A Florida Democrat, who once had to have “sex” defined for her, has stated that parents are unqualified to determine what is pornography in the schools. Another is Colorado has moved that White business owners be taxed and the money given to Black business owners. To the people who crow this sort of thing would never happen in their countries, I reply, “Quit telling us your problems.”

Last Laugh