June 6, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 6, 2022, that troublesome carburator.
Five years ago today: June 6, 2018, a year & a profit.
Nine years ago today: June 6, 2014, bass is not easy.
Random years ago today: June 6, 2005, their ceaseless efforts.

           That was JZ on the phone. Some bunch of pals I got, he says he’ll be amazed if I can repair the John Deere. The guy is out of touch, he forgets the long history of the robot club and things that got learned. To JZ, this is skill you learn at trade school. Nonsense, I say, it’s like sex, you get it 90% right the first time. Fortified with a big bowl of porridge, I’m going to document the repair just to remind him I don’t sit around watching the cowboy re-run channel. I got into town 5:00AM this morning and slept just until 10:00AM, noticing how the lawn was now knee-deep in weeds. Howie was over by 10:30AM with his mower.

           I displayed the fuel pump and learned it does not require an overflow. The float valve on the carb, says Howie, is enough to regulate the flow. The Chinese instructions are horrendous, causing me to connect the pump up on the robot club test bench to decipher things. Here’s what I found, which made the instructions somewhat logical. The pump, when powered, runs all the time. You can hear it running and the sound volume varies with the fuel pressure in the hose. I tested with a power switch, but am now thinking it could be directly wired. It only has to function when the motor running, so why bother with a switch.

           Now that I know it runs continually and makes a noise loud enough to hear when the motor stops, save an expensive switch. Before continuing, here is an excellent view of the storied “bright red Georgia clay” splashed on my well and side panels. It ain’t so bright when it is dry but use your imagination. To be clear, none of this wiring or pump as yet has taken place on the tractor. This is bench testing and making sure of procedure. And it has me tired.

Picture of the day.
Abandoned pickle factory, Detroit.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           That nap turned into two hours. I’ve wired up the in-line fuse and am now searching for my always hard-to-find tray of spade ends. It’s in the shed, but the shed is twenty feet long and twelve feed wide. The good news is I stepped on the scale and I’m down six pounds from all the exercise in Tennessee. I have no Internet yet, I wasted a trip into town y’day. I would stop doing business with foreigners if I could, they have no respect for people’s time (other than their own). To them a sign that says open 9 – 5 is merely and idle suggestion of intention. In that sense they are the original millennials. They never told you to take off an hour and drive to their shop to find they’re closed by 4:00.

           I moved many of the potted yard plants into the shade before I left. The oregano somehow loved it the best. Here’s the stand, nearly two feet high. Too bad it is not a hardy species. The aroma is great, but you have to get close or get confined. It is a sharper smell than the oregano you have on the spice rack.

           Let’s check the feeds. The left is in a panic as Trump’s rating continue to soar. They are so far behind on their bills, they cannot allow Trump to even run, as their normal ways of cheating would become so expensive, it would bankrupt them. There is not that much they can do now that most of their dirty tricks have failed. Nothing has even touched Trump. They’ve spent a long time putting laws in place to stop opponents, my guess is they will have to twist and turn to fit Trump into one of those corners. Another thing, Americans don’t understand how one old ugly Hungarian has the money to topple the entire US political system in favor of the commies, yet hundreds of billionaires in the Republican camp can’t seem to get a damn thing done. (I know, the Democrats have used the taxpayer money to buy the system, but still, if money talks, the Republicans have enough of it.)

Last Laugh