April 19, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 19, 2025, old RAM chips.
Five years ago today: April 19, 2021, full K-cup deployment.
Nine years ago today: April 19, 2017, gimme 5 mouse clicks . . .
Random years ago today: April 19, 2010, Canan, Arduino, & early Trump.

           Read today’s addendum to know why I’m happy. Not energetic, in fact, I’ll make a pistachio pie and call it a morning. I truly don’t know if I can make today worth a thing. I could work some boxes, which compares well with what the rest of “over 40” central Florida does for excitement. The birdfeeder was empty this morning, so up goes the game camera—but the birdies could really just have been that hungry. Let’s get outside since the only other action here is I have some cherry jello setting up in the fridge.

           Fooled even myself —I got lots done, plenty of good exercise and it is just noon. The neighbor started a motor at 8:59AM, so I fired up my air compressor. Before I knew it, there I was busy as ever without even thinking of therapy limitations. There was lots of light work, one aspect of carpentering is you accumulate scraps. I avoid some clutter by trimming everything down to the same size and burning the rest. Yep, my mess is organized.
           Here is something you’ve never seen, [which is] a bit of usual for this blog. It is a saw pony graveyard. These are relics from the early days when I was seeking something to sell. This was designed in Tennessee with some built here to test modifications. The lumber was untreated, so this is the result of a few years in the Florida weather. The legs rot away from ground contact, but are easily replaced to make handy work benches that last long enough. These units were sturdy enough so they’ll get painted.

           I filled the birdfeeder, cleared some space, and tidied up, committing to no chore that could last more than a few minutes. But, hallelujah, I did not need any breaks. Did not even think of it. That’s a quantum leap, boys. Here’s a view of that Tennessee bench that never did get repaired. I am salvaging the spindles from the old chair back. They are all the same size and tapered, so just maybe I can repurpose them as caddy handles.
           Shortly later, here is one of the scrap wood caddy handles in place. Works fine for around here. These are made using as much standard cuts and sizes but are a different concept. The bad lumber is evident, the build requires staples, brads, and screws, something I will try to get away from. The brads are a rare (around here) 2-inch length, needed to pierce the lumber around the handle bracket and lock the handle in place. There is no glue, the brackets must be screwed on, as the largest brad that won’t poke through can be yanked apart. Back in the ‘50s. this was called “empirical design”.

           It’s sadly a forgotten trade secret, to build something that works and lasts. Today, everything has all the strength and endurance cut away right from the design stage. The last three generations of engineers would not know any other way. Finally, there is a short video on a question I’ve asked for years. How do all these mall shops stay open when nobody is ever seen buying anything? My conclusion is they are a front for something.

           Taking a bit of inventory, I have not brought in any new pallets in a while. The supply has dried up, which compounds itself since that causes me not to go check as often. I’ve also grown fussy about the pallets and get tempted to build a device that pulls them apart at the site after hours, leaving the junk. I tend to take only the best pieces. I now have some competition though I’ve never seen them. I shall not be prying anything for a while. For now, I’ve lots of scrap and no pallet wood.
           My LifeVest began beeping, saying it cannot be used and to contact the head office immediately. I’m duty-bound to report all this, but personally I hope they are saying the lack of issues means I don’t have to keep wearing it. Somehow I know I’m winning some ground back. The numbness in my fingers has abated well in the past 48 hours. My leg sore is finally diminishing. I an delighted how my energy lasted all this day.

Picture of the day.
Ball screw.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           By noon, I’m still chugging along fine, but decided to quit while ahead. How about as heavy a meal as can be managed? Here’s my shaker of umami, the primary ingredient is salt. I opted for a bowl of chicken fried rice with this and curry. No sense making more until the taste buds convalesce from that January anaesthitic, I won’t let you forget. One bowl, that’s all I could scarf, that is, maybe 2/3 of my quota. I settled for a helping of the jello. I am really off my tracks.

           How about another prototype? This is one of those carts for a small oxygen tank. The tanks must be too heavy for some, it is a sturdy little contraption. So what give here? It’s ground magnet. That round disk is a super magnet from an old 15” bass speaker. As seen here, it is resting on top as I rig up a better mounting underneath. Like a small broom, the magnet sweeps the ground of the three locations where I confine most of my work. I’m expect a lot of drill bits.
           Because nobody has yet designed one that stays in the drill They are too busy gluing their palms to city pavements. If you search for info on this topic, there are plenty of GenX sites who actually tell you to replace the drill. It would seem between them this is a valid option, get it, people with brand new drills don’t search as often, duh. It makes sense in a millennial sort of way.

           Remaining cautious, I opted for a documentary and some pistachio pie. I can better taste “soft” food, so why not. The video was about PT boat design and their employment in the Solomons. The worst loss was from running aground, 18 boats. Only two from enemy shore fire. The USA built 600 of these, sending some to England and the Soviets. Add in some Bearded Viking videos, he builds small projects I like to view and the guy has a sense of humor. Adadabbaglue. He found a lot of wood in abandoned lots along with his wife, as he puts it.
           Has the US really put an Iranian tanker out of business? A shot through the engine room is the rumor. A Chinese robot has run the Beijing e-Town marathon at three times the speed last year. This is not good news for people who have nothing but athletics, and they are everywhere. The Iranian “Shahed” drone, with the lawnmower engine, is being cloned out of cheap Chinese plastic and, says the Ukraine, makes great target practice.
           LiveScience (no link due to security issues) has finally published the spectrometer study of dark matter. It isn’t really dark, but anyway, it suggests the distribution of matter is not entirely random. They released a map showing 47 million galaxies. Not stars, galaxies. I’m settled in and watching a DVD called “Over The Red River”. Worse acting, a string of clichés. The old noble savage Indian on about his land stolen from “sea to sea”, oceans that he heard in legend only and could not point to, but does play a mean Chilean flute. The lady with no food crossing the desert, can this get any worse? At least it is half over and nobody has turned queer yet. But the painted desert backdrops are the worse ever.

           This is, by a large amount, the longest idle time of my life. Even including the busy times a few hours like today, I’ve never done so little for so long. Oddly, the Internet came to the rescue, because otherwise I would be in the library. A subject that’s interesting this time around is bushcraft. Videos of people who make temporary outdoor survival shelters. Some of them are kind of permanent, so I like the ones made of branches and twigs. Blizzard survival, though I never plan to witness anything like that ever again. And they call that a blizzard?
           I don’t know why they got my attention, especially the fold up stoves they carry along. Complete with stovepipes and they always have a pan full of meat to fry up. Myself, I’m okay with weenies and beans. And what is with the flint and steel? If you are taking along all that camping gear, throw in a lighter or some matches. One guy was making burritos. What’s next? Pizza?

ADDENDUM
           It only took 15 years, but I woke up this morning with one of the final navigation steps figured out. Up to now, I had memorized the vague steps and carried on, like 100% of the people I went to college with. It was the confusing process of looking up the LHA or MA (same thing). I always had to do it twice because of how frequently I got it exactly backwards. And this morning it clicked, it made sense. In my brain, I turned one of the triangles upside down, and there it was. I won’t be able to employ it until I find my Sight Reduction booklet, but meanwhile, let’s learn something new. Because it is Sunday.

           It is 07:57:17 on the morning of April 19, 2014 and we have chosen the star Schedar because, if it were visible, it would be in the northern sky. We have not taken a sextant reading, that is not our purpose here. In one of those blog coincidences, I see I’ve chosen this day before, exactly one year ago. The arithmetic gets crazy, the star is above a point W675° 80.3’ and N56° 37’. That’s equal to W316.3248° and N -56.5929 Googlespeak. Now over to the map.

           We are in Russia, in some bushes by a farm field. There are low-lying treed areas nearby with what looks like snow in the shadows. This is way northeast of Moscow on the Volga. We have a nearby town, Gorodets. No, make that a medium size city, with a stadium and many apartments. Populaton 30,000. Let’s delve further.
           The place was once abandoned, but is now near a big hydroelectric dam and famous for wood carvings and embroidery. Lots of carved window frames. The road across the Volga dam is the only connection to the outside except the railroad. Their Craigslist page is full of insults from the Ukraine, who appear to call them Rooskies.
           There appear to be no pubs or nightlife in Gorodets and I could not find a picture of one single young pretty woman, not even the usual ads for Russian brides. Maybe Gorodets is the Russian version of Lakeland, Florida. Get out as fast as you can after you turn 18.

Last Laugh