June 22, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 22, 2025, surprise attack, my eye.
Five years ago today: June 22, 2021, drywall day.
Nine years ago today: June 22, 2017, soy sauce parking.
Random years ago today: June 22, 2012, the ‘skis’, ha-ha.

           Happy Barbarossa Day. It’s probably coincidence, but since USAID has been defunded, a new spectrum of candidates have begun winning Central American elections. Naturally, any who don’t support commie narratives are being called “far-rght”. The Democrat claim was USAID was building schools and hospitals, but so far that is seven elections which have not gone their way. Howie was over for a backyard chat, he’s finally adapted to retirement. It took the required year.

           There’s a little gossip. The lady across the way has been refused a city permit to rebuild the back of her house. It’s really just the kitchen area that has fire damage. It’s shooting up to 94°F today, don’t expect much. The other house across the way has been listed for rent, so the rumor goes. This neighborhood isn’t swank, but expensive enough to keep out the worst. Let me grab some more news with my coffee.
           Here’s Memphis II relaxing in his wee chapel house, happy as usual. He reminded me Greta said the world was supposed to end y’day. I built Howie a special box to hold carburetor parts. He worked a long time on those things so he’ll need a project box to keep things in. And I figure a specialist knows not to work on more than one such device at a time. And what better to keep organized in that circumstance. Everybody likes real boxes. Oh, and I was again complimented on the rustic appearance—see addendum.

           They have locked up the Texas woman who herded goats through Wal*Mart while chugging Margaritas. Most did not know it was a crime. I’ve got most of my battery gear on chargers around the house, I really could use a yard sale. I may have solved the “caramel” aroma stumper. The clinic gave me an antibiotic called Betadine, a topical bactericide for the incision site, which I apply if I know I’ll be working bare-chested in a dusty environment like the shed. It has a slight medicinal whiff until mixed with inevitable Florida perspiration. I only suspect it from y’day, but it makes more logic than anything else. And I do want my red shirt back.
           I am supposed to list my activities, a promise I made myself while stranded in that hospital. That was a time recently when the tiniest effort was something to be proud of. Maybe I will, but instead I had a blast listening to Tampa Commie Radio. They featured a one-hour broadcast gaslighting some local girl sports team who forfeited a game rather than play a team of queers. Complete with paid “callers”, the theme was how the girls embarrassed their coach, home room, and most of the state education system. For they said, the girls were total failures at accepting the realties of how the world had changed. How the school had worked so hard to turn the athletic department into nice people.
           Now, Tampa isn’t without its moments. One slipped right past the censors, I almost spewed my diet root beer in the shed. You see, the SpaceX public offering created 4,400 new millionaires. It was speculated many were plumbers, truck drivers, carpenters, and electricians. So one of them called in to see if this new status automatically made them into the rich so hated by the Democrats, or if they had some form of grace period to adjust.

Picture of the day.
Dakota Johnson.
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           A pending storm again threw us some cloud cover, but it stayed dry and I spent a lot of time outside. Well, outside in the shade, nobody wise really stands around in the summer sun. I dug out the sawzall, but cannot find the box with all my spare blades. My plan is to dig out two small linden tree stumps that are in the pathway to the laundry. Howie brought over his weeder and took down most of the grass—except that one spot I’m leaving natural. I call it “Little Texas”.
           My favorite coffee chair makes it easy to set up the laser and keep an eye on it. I’d rate today average on my energy scale, so after siesta (I really did nap this time) I worked in the shed until 8:30PM, which is dusk. I have a plan to test a way for the printing to stand out on dark wood finishes. I saw various how-to clips of people making pieces out of crazy glue and baking soda. My plan is similar. I will combine two factors to see the results. And it is something new and different, and for me anything beats sitting around. So, let’s experiment.

           This is my idea. If you look at the logo burned into the wood piece, you may notice it bites into the wood. This can be enhanced by running the laser for two, sometimes three passes. After than, the beam gets a bit unfocused. The first part of the problem is that the laser burn in one dark color. If I stain the wood or yagasuki it, the logo no longer stands out. I immediately thought to fill in the lettering with a light-colored compound. And the baking soda came to mine—but I did not care for how the compound had to be scraped and shaved. Once set, it becomes hard and brittle.
           Then it hit me. Water Putty. The container, shown here, says “sticks, stays put – will not shrink”. What do you think? It dries to a pale yellow. I won’t do this today, it is already past 11:00PM and I want a chance to read the fine print, maybe look at this stuff on-line. The container says it can be molded and painted, but can it be mixed with color? On-line, apparently nobody knows.

           Canada’s departure tax has how hit 50%, but just you try to get that information in clear understandable form. This is the tax you pay if you leave Canada go live elsewhere. It is deemed that you have sold all your assets and property at market value. There is no getting around it. It cannot gifted, inherited, registered, incorporated, or disguised in any way—and even if you succeed, there is a law against that, too.
           I warned my Elliott, the inventor guy from British Columbia that this was on the way in 1995. Like a true Canadian, he guffawed that could never happen in a country as free and nearly perfect as Canada. We had a falling out some years ago, so I don’t know how he’s doing, but he’s aware I was the one who warned him to get out of that shit-hole 30 years ago. He did not listen. He always talked about retiring on an island in the Channel, and probably could afford it having lived in his parent’s basement his whole life. Well Captain Canada, not no more.
           Meanwhile, the rest of the country is boiling with hatred of some sort, my guess is the eastern politics. It’s a trend I attribute to Trump, not a single socialist cause has advanced since he defunded USAID. Not one left-wing candidate in the entire Americas has [since] been elected. Coincidence? Perhaps.

ADDENDUM
           It’s been just over year since the Z-box design, without a single sale. But look what we’ve learned, and that brings me to reporting the compliments. Today was even better, in the sense the party went on to say they did not like the fancier boxes. (They hooted when I reflexively referred to that as the ‘Elvis finish’.) In my best conversational style, I’ll write down what I’ve learned that makes the boxes rustic. By no means does today’s box get that way by itself.
           There are distinct differences in the boxes a year apart that do not result from the original design, in fact, I use the same jigs. They are hanging on nails in the cutting shed and have never been modified, but it now takes four jigs instead of two. These encompass both cutting and drilling. The other contributing factors are, including some I’ve recorded before, the selection and cutting of lumber. It must average 11% moisture but not less than 10%.

           Each piece is now hand-selected. And each box is made from one picket for color and dimensional consistency. The board must be cut within four days of purchase, and must be fastened within a day of being cut or you will get cupping. Boxes longer than six inches must be stapled, not pinned, and the corner joints must be glued. Most lumber has a good and a bad side, the good side faces outward.
           The wood is also selected for grain that runs long and parallel. There is no wrap-around or “waterfall” effect, but this is the stage where the logo is etched, so be careful what is out and up. The pieces have to be carefully matched up to achieve the best and most consistent effect.
           A certain amount of cupping is expected, but the wood rarely warps or twists. I now use clamps to force the wood into shape, but move fast and you don’t have to wrestle with it. I’m watching “Flyboys” in sections now, for like many “TV” movies, I’ve seen parts of it when I came in to start my gigs (in the old days, which was usually around 8:00PM), so that’s around half-way through what is called prime time. I guess it follows I'd see that part of many movies.

Last Laugh