June 20, 2025

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 20, 2024, silly human..
Five years ago today: June 20, 2020, one switch, $72 bucks.
Nine years ago today: June 20, 2016, watching silver.
Random years ago today: June 20, 2013, yes, but I have cash.

           First day of summer and we have an inquiry. Bee boxes, which I once looked and and know nothing about. I will take a look. The design has frames for the honeycombs and queen excluders and sliding, fitting pieces. Mind you, it depends on the price, this came from a relative of Agt. M who raises bees. I see boxes for sale at $125 but I could not produce those, then again, I do not have a laser cutter.

           It’s a mild day so opted to tackle that challenge with the box bottoms. True, cutting three slats instead of two is an extra step, but an easier step than custom fitting that third piece. All calculations came out to 23/69ths, so I went metric and kept cutting pieces until they fit. I may have got somewhere, the actual measurement is not 73.3mm, but 73.78. Behold, the first seven boxes fit. Here they are in a stack, which is likely why people see beehives.

           This batch is the first with several changes, the most prominent being the bottom cuts. There’s photo nearby showing the three equal size pieces that demonstrate how much better the box looks. Another change is that although the bottoms are no longer necessarily from the same original board, they are a matching set of their own.
           What you don’t see is the process. These pieces have to be cut a special way, including that 0.48mm extra. Why? Because if you look closely, the factory edges of this fence lumber are not that exact. These three pieces are cut to slightly oversize for good reason. They have to be tapped into place very lightly to keep the corners square and so that any flex in the wood tends to seal up the cracks. This box view is a great example of how this works and showing a better general appearance, to boot.

           These boxes are now made from hand-picked lumber with most of the knots chopped out. I’m learning plenty about working with small pieces, the first lesson is I’m no good at it. I mean in the sense that I can make this boxes, but I can’t make a profit. Unless you’d pay $11 for this, I break even. This is the box JZ thinks should be made larger, but the longer side pieces cannot be over the length where they can flex. We were not taught in accounting school that after a certain stage in the design lifecycle, even tiny changes become progressively harder to implement.
           Five hours today has my hopes up. Mind you, that was slow hours as I’m still a bit cramped. I watched my performance and other than moving between the tools, I can see this casual effort is enough to quality as good daily exercise. Darn rights I know that is important, though I foresee the day when eight pickets from the truck to the shed are going to take me eight trips.

Picture of the day.
Pituffik Space Base.
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           Any news? Disney has become a ghost town. Israel’s knock-out blow against Iran did not work, as missiles retaliation continues. And more missiles continue to get past Iron Dome, I told you the US models were too damn expensive. Seems to me the katyusha method still works. It seems 24-hour outlets are now closing at night in certain neighborhoods. I’ve no news from Roberto, the guitar guy and I’m hoping he has not made the error of trying to go solo in Polk County. The guitar player market is saturated and leaking at the diapers.

           Here’s me proudly walking out to the truck full speed for lumber. I did it! Three pieces at a time. Enough work, I decided to drive out to east Bartow for Karaoke. Yep, I got flashed, though by the mother, not the daughter. One of the odd aspects of the local shut-down of most Karaoke clubs is how it has caused both the best and the worst to descent upon that one remaining location. It becomes a strange country music backwater where the best and worst show up.

           I arrived early, around 8:00PM with some writing material, yes, I will write in a club if there is nothing else going on. There wasn’t, but I was there to ask about that lady who was such a good dancer. You see, I’d promised her I’d let her know when I could dance again. Yes, I found where she hangs out these days and will go say hello. I was a dance instructor, you know. Tonight, I got no rest from Karaoke. Usually I won’t bother if there are no gals in the crowd. There was only that lady who flashes (they are not bad for her age) and her daughter whom she protects like a hawk. (But one again, I’m “safe” because I do not hit on anyone.)
           The attendance was sizeable enough, but not singers enough that in an hour, so I was called up several times. And I chose two [new tunes] as first-fime tryouts, “Only Daddy” and “Diggin’ Up Bones”, aw, you guessed. The jockey knows me and which notes give me trouble, so he helps out knowing I’m a bassist, not a singer. Here’s where I point out what can go wrong. This is this old couple that show up and sit on the bench beside the stage, not drinking, not smiling, and not even talking to each other. I’ve seem them before and pro courtesy aside, these couple are terrible singers who have made no effort to improve. Their hobby should be more like predicting when their guinea pig will yawn.

           I don’t know these people, but they get up there and do terrible renditions of these 1930/40 jazz nobody’s heard of. And they are up often, as they put their names in separately. It’s a weak, grating sound, they stand there like statues reading the lyrics. Contrast with my style, where I know everybody in the place to see them and I sing only genuine fast country classics, “Everybody on the dance floor, this is a foxtrot.”
           They must have had lemons for supper because tonight they sat there staring knives a me. Bah, after my family, I have nothing to do with such sour-ass people and this is not their private club, which they mistake for a funeral parlor the way they sing. They seem especially annoyed that I know the lyrics, reading them to see is I make any mistakes. Deal with such people by shrugging them off and tonight, they got shrugged like never before. The crowd went alive and the granny was flashing. (Um, her back is toward the audience, so usually only the DJ and myself get the show.)

           The build process is now shifted from construction to appearances. I now pay attention to ever smaller features, such as how the final piece is tapped into place just enough to pinch other seams together and how the slats are, like the sides, now cut from a single board to preserve the grain pattern. Even the best selected lumber of these narrower pickets will develop cracks but they are hairline and don’t affect the utility. Most of these e-boxes are presently used for my own storage needs.

Last Laugh