One year ago today: January 20, 2024, $1 per hour raise . . . .
Five years ago today: January 20, 2020, a bit kernelly.
Nine years ago today: January 20, 2016, they don’t serve coffee.
Random years ago today: January 20, 2001, yep, same girlfriend as today
Writing before noon, Trump is not President yet. But the momentum is there. Much focus is on the 200 executive orders rumored to be signed the first day. I’m watching the pattern of those orders—they are ones that are not only popular, but chosen to be very difficult to ever overturn. One I like is the mandated return to work for all federal employees. Work at home has resulted in productivity ratios of 17%. Huge government offices are heated and vacant. The Democrats planned on foot-dragging the border wall again, but this time Trump is not hiring contractors. He’s sending in the military.
The anti-Trump protests this time around are a freak show at best. I get about as far as looking at the ugly women, I admit it. The airwaves are full of libtards claiming they were “misled” rather than admitting they were wrong and apologizing. It’s a spectacle. The Pope, who has admitted zero black Africans into Vatican City, says the deportations are a disgrace.
This photo shows my splint in action. Note how the angles keep my finger at a natural position but leaves the tip free to type. The black tape? It’s purpose is to keep the splint in place when I wear it overnight. Sometimes I cut off the finger of an old cloth glove and stretch it over for looks, but anything that works. It is now T-minus 2 hours, I’ve posted that this is the second time in recent history that every person will forever remember what they were doing at the moment Trump takes over. Or as some smart aleck said on Gab, Trupm “is immortalized.”
Of course, the Democrat lunatic fringe has gone ballistic over the deportation preparations. They were counting on retaking power and granting the illegals citizenship to secure their votes. If you didn’t know, 1/3 of the refugee family DNA showed they were unrelated.
Check in later, we are back to arctic weather for another week. But by noon today, I imagine things will be pretty hot around the White House. Meanwhile, you get household news. First, the boxes. If you’d like, look back at y’day and you may notice something about the lumber. It has gotten much smarter since when I started. It now cuts where I tell it and stays put where I set it. Best of all, it does not argue back like it used to.
The miter joints have learned to behave and get along much better and I’m pretty sure the lumber held a secret meeting and decided to take stains more evenly. Maybe wood has developed its own version of A.I. Next thing you know, I’m fixing biscuits and gravy and what’s that sound. Aha, we have the missus varmint in the live trap. Enjoy, the aroma, lady, since you are about to get a free van ride to all the adventure you could want. I get the feeling my luck has been changing lately, which is fine, since I don’t count much on luck. And when I get any, it usually makes my investments go up.
Llano Estacado.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
This afternoon was complicated, but I’ll tie it all together. The budget constraints for the past four months have been due to the events of Valdosta. But the purpose of a budget is to weather these storms and I found a tow bar for the Hyundai, tentatively. I need it connected so I went over to Roger’s place to see if he can do that. Yes, and while there he showed me the problem with the small lawn mower. I could not believe it, a 1/4-inch hole in the bottom of the gas tank. Not a small hole, but almost big enough for your little finger. Figure that one, this is a metal tank and nothing could fit under the housing to puncture it. One squirt of gas and it fired up with barely a tug.
But, he says, the riding mower, even in ace condition won’t sell for much more than a hundred bucks. To get rid of it I need that tow bar to move the KIA as the space where it got parked is too narrow. By now it is noon and I’m famished—but for something I have probably not eaten in eight years. Sliced salami sandwiches. First I drop off missus rat, good riddance, then I have to drive all the way to Bartow as I forgot it was a holiday and the local mail slot is only wide enough for letters. I had packages of vacuum tubes.
Let me re-word that. I don’t as a rule eat sandwiches except for grilled cheese, which is kind of in a category by itself. Add a craving for those fiery hot Egyptian vegetables you get in the jar. How, one wonders, can they ship food here from Egypt that is cheaper than the local groceries? Mind you, the version they sell here is maybe 1/5th as fiery hot as the real thing.
Remember Adel Sami George Habib, my math professor? He never went beyond his Middle East habits, I recall how his fridge was empty except for one large jar of water, which he set fo ice cold. And a box of oranges. Everything else he ate was bought fresh daily. I lost track of him many years ago. I tried to locate him last year, but he’s gone. He ultimately took a job in Canada with the postal service, but that was in Alberta. And Alberta is (or was) as staunch defender of private information. They don’t allow even death certificates to go public for 50 years. Ottawa, of course, hates them for this.
So while out there, let’s stop in Eagle Lake because that Dollar Tree has better materials. One favorite is a wood panel wallpaper. Since I don’t know how to apply veneer, it’s great for bottoms. It’s stayed cold, so I spent $20 and got home, where it required 3 sandwiches to get me back in the game. He still lacks a nickname, so we’ll call him Roger. He can weld and he made a small electric cart like I’d once hoped I could do. I think I’ll horse trade with this guy, as I have th club welder which is in much better shape than what he’s got. I drank three large mugs of hot cocoa and it’s nap time. I don’t know if I’m happy or sad this constitutes a big day for me so far.
Noon passed quietly. No horns, fireworks, or sirens. I’ve put in some time catching up on my memoirs, presently focused on January 1980. Young and impetuous, that’s a good observation. I was new out on the west coast and like many, viewed it as an opportunity to start over, away from the corrupt “eastern” influences that determined your fate at birth. I would up working across the border in Canada, and discovered Vancouver is on the west coast, but it sure as hell was not LA.
ADDENDUM
A condition that has not bothered me in ages is back, finger joint flexor stiffness. Not pain, but like an internal “clicking” sensation. It affects my pass playing, but is caused by computer work. Instantly I placed the splint I made years ago, much nicer than the $20 store-bought type that immobilize the finger. Mine has a flange that transfers the motion to the whole hand, so I am typing with it on right now. It is on my right pointer and lets me know that is, by far, the most overused finger. Even picking up a coffee mug is rough without it.