November 29, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 29, 2022, far too luxurious.
Five years ago today: November 29, 2018, that’s “NEW” law . . .
Nine years ago today: November 29, 2014, how many ugly ones?
Random years ago today: November 29, 2012, somebody finally called the cops.

           A quick contact with Florida reveals my system down there is equipped more for survival than for emergencies. Yes, I barrel-arsed out of there early that Sunday leaving a trail of errors. My property tax envelope got dropped in the wrong mail slot, I forgot my fancy music stand outside, I’ve got a squirrel in the attic and one of my prize avocadoes may be a goner. Despite the two payment drops, mail and utilities, being adjacent at the town office, I still had to mail them a postage stamp before they’d pick it up and put it in the right bin. I will remember that.

           The morning was gone doing the best I can to prep this place for the Reb. The new hired help is not going to know the drills for the pets and laundry and the oldest doggie needs special care. However. We have things back on as even a keel as possible and I’ve changed priorities for the next six months. Like the Reb said, next time let her know when things are so demanding in Florida, ha-ha. This has not dampened our spirits.

           The SONY camcorder gave out. It is loose wiring where the USB toggle goes into the casing, probably not reparable. You are now seeing pictures taken with the smart phone, which have to be “detuned” even on their lowest setting. There’s not sense using massive resolutions when the end product just gets displayed on a monitor, which maxes out at 92 dpi. There’s JeePee glad to see me. It takes forever to train a turtle, in this case around five years to react to the dinner bell. I prepared his meals a week in advance in case I leave tomorrow. He loves sweet potato and chicken.

Picture of the day.
A Life of Labors, the CD.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           At 4:00 PM I braved the 80mph Nashville freeway traffic to go get the Reb. It’s not wonder so many of these drivers, when they try their stuff in Florida, wind up in traffic accidents so soon after they get there. Staying at the house in Franklin did the Reb a world of good but she’s arrived at the stage where pain-killers do a generic job. They don’t address the dozens of jolting temporary pains of a very long healing process. After considerable talks with her people, the Reb is going to include meat in her diet until at least this process is mainly over. I’ve often wondered if vegetarians took inordinate time to heal from lack of protein.
           The doggies came along for the reunion, they’ve been with me almost exclusively since the 12th. They can go ballistic when she returns and I can’t allow them to jump this time. Instead, they seemed to instinctively know to avoid all but gentle contact. Now me, they expect a daily romp and the cold has chosen now to get at my ancient back injuries. You should have seen me trying to manhandle the Reb’s suitcase into the van.

           Rather than face that traffic, I opted to drive all the way down Old Hickory, around twenty miles. For once I was happy that rush hour moved so slow. They’ve given her two types of sling, the regular one that hurts your neck, and the prop, which hurts your side. We had planned a dinner at the sushi spot but instead I made fried rice at home. Here’s a quick video of getting the doggies tired at least a bit so they don’t want to play all the time. I’ve got the place all winterized now, there is a duct that has to be blocked on the north side of the foundation or the floor inside gets cold spots.

Last Laugh