One year ago today: December 9, 2022, riding shotgun.
Five years ago today: December 9, 2018, it’s not candy.
Nine years ago today: December 9, 2014, on using the F-word.
Random years ago today: December 9, 2011, no hand grenade.
Wide awake late, I watch some documentaries on home remedies, sea life, and log-splitting tools that would never pass OSHA. The meeting with Ray-B is in five hours, so I talk about the videos. It is impossible to find many without fake climate change talk, as if we didn’t know they get a government grant to push that nonsense. I’ve noticed a new theme is emerging, that Japanese and Indonesian fishermen, who are scouring the oceans raw, are more “humane” than Americans who practice conservation. People who live on islands are nicer than Americans who do not. And honey, which I normally do not consume, seems to be the primary ingredient of thousands of health concoctions.
I arrived my usual ten minutes late. We talked an hour and he is not programming tax code. I read that into what he said, my bad. Ray-B is working tax software tech support, as he says, it’s the closest thing he’s had to a tech job in ten years. You could not pay me enough to answer phones for a living, but you are welcome to test that theory. He’s still got that tinnitus, it’s been a month now and the doctors find nothing. My one bout of that was a few days and it’s enough to cause other problems.
We talked about Canada, the Koran, and women. He did not know the Koran is not chronological, that it is printed in order from the longest verses to the shortest. This results in plenty of evil, as Islamists are taught from birth that the last thing said is more important than anything said earlier on the same topic. What’s the legal term, I forget. At any rate, it means Mohammed is often quoted out of sequence, as later is life he was kicked out town. It was then he wrote most of his short, hateful passages.
Saharan dust in Portugal.
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Ray-B remains on the depressed side but he knows he’ll bounce out of it. I had wanted to take in the flea market they have near the library on Saturdays. He was no-go on that, I went over myself and I actually did see one good-looking woman, extremely rare in central Florida. One thing Ray-B and I yakked about was dating clubs. You may recall I tried one that was supposed to be highly selective of the women they admitted. Their idea of quality differed significantly with mine. Say what you want about on-line dating, if you don’t check it out at least once, you are not living in today’s world.
Ray-B thinks with my ability to organize and define, I should do an expose on dating club women. I’m inclined to say I’ve already done that but with women in general. Just because I don’t marry some has-been lady to make my life miserable doesn’t mean such women don’t have a role in this world. I’m watching an old movie, “The Sea Wolves” in portions, something to do with submarines and cavalry charges. Many later movies have the same theme, that quirk in British and American thinking that the whole world doesn’t know that “special operations” mean the dirty work. That if the government denies these programs exist, they are not complicit.
Here’s a potential papaya tree. I’m so tired of picking up dead papaya leaves but it’s the fastest growing tree in my yard. This one was the survivor of probably sixty sprouts. This is not from the batch of December 3, but found in a pot near the potato plot (not planted yet). I got home in mid-afternoon and did the siesta route, waking up over eight hours later. So cancel any dust vacuum or Karaoke plans. I was out and to help me stay asleep, I’m reading a book on German social and foreign policy around 1905 to 1915. No sleeping pills needed.
That’s misleading, it was a fascinating era and it is British propaganda that the Germans flubbed at colonialism and diplomacy. It would be closer fact to realized the middle-class, or the merchant class, got a slow start in Germany because of the huge early influence of the Marxists. The middle-class was given the same distaste and treatment as the communists for an unsually long era from 1870s onward. Much German planning of the day was in reaction to the British strategy of blocking any growth of continental powers.
Ray-B was right. Except for the sight of that one woman, the flea market was dull. It’s all city-approved booths retailing Chinese-made shiny junk and $40 jars of honey. All the prices were equally insane. I was scouting for stuff I could make and sell, which has always been a competitive market though I still try. There were some serving trays of dyed wood made into American flags and some wine bottle holders, for people whose wine bottles require such treatment. No music and the food vendors were those carnival trucks.
I visited the used book store to check the DVDs and priced out 22 caliber ammo. Stopping for coffee, I sketched out the frame for the vacuum, then went home for more coffee and more of the same. Don’t anticipate much momentum from here while I revamp the finances to allow for a drawn out battle with the insurance companies. As expected, that is looming up as the largest issue and I believe it will take the last of my resources in a drawn out clash. Even if things don’t go so badly, I know to prepare for the worst. At this point, I’m basing my plan on 24 months ending January 2026.
ADDENDUM
I’m re-reading selected chapters of my Arduino book. The fact is, the device is not anywhere near as educational or versatile as I once imagined. I can look at most of the “new” circuits and actually imagine the gates and relays that make it operate. I’ve reached another barrier as there is no real information about this level of operations. What I have read says others don’t imagine the events as I do yet there is nothing wrong with just accepting that they work. Well, until things go wrong, but nowadays they don’t fix, they blame.
