One year ago today: September 10, 2025, $12 a pound.
Five years ago today: September 10, 2021, I liked that tree.
Nine years ago today: September 10, 2017, the dreaded Folger’s
Random years ago today: September 10, 2015, of excellent quality.
Another slow day pending, I’m not starting up well this morning but I got a reprieve from Mrs. Red. It turns out she also likes cookie and cracker crumbs and I scrounged just enough in the freezer. Yes, keep you open bags in the freezer if there is room. Or Florida will get you. I had scheduled a documentary on the Great Dismal Swamp. It’s peat bog young George Washington once surveyed. I wanted facts on how they have brought it back after draining it so bad it caught fire. What a disappointment half the narrative the same old. VIDEO HAS SOUND!
It was a droning millennial spiel about slaves, old Indians, and climate change. It irks me further that this crap is churned out with your tax dollars. I’m crawling back in the sack, talk to you later. What? It is later already? And I have news that I can’t say, but I’ll sure describe the scenario. To start, here is a video of my DIY doorbell. I eliminated the trip switch, reasoning that whoever presses the button isn’t going to stand there holding it. The bell only needs to ring once to get my attention. If they hold the button anyway, it will ring as shown in this video, it has sound.
Yep, that is my salt shaker in the background, and some other junk. This is my work counter and oft-times breakfast table. I am a morning person, though the latest variation is how I crawl back in the sack till past eight. And the coil in that video is from the old electric nailer that went on the blink.
This is a fine situation, I have news that makes my day, but I can’t share it. So I’ll describe a hypothetical parallel. Whenever you try to get ahead, there will be people who appear out of nowhere to trip you up. For no reason or gain, they hate you. We have one and she is a 4F (fat, female, forty, flatulent) so I don’t like her. But that just means I don’t associate with her. However, the Reb does not recognize as many varieties of losers as I do. Well, I have some news.
The 4F just went off the deep end. Causing a big scene, turning over tables, and barely avoiding arrest. We just heard about it because, funny thing, our lawyer in California was at the same event. He won’t say anything much except in person, which will be a few days. The more serious this is, the happier I am. I have no qualms gloating when self-appointed enemies get their due. I promise you the details when it is over.
In celebration, I wired the Reb a handful of cash to go out on the town. Chooks and Lillie get steak or lamb tonight. Myself, I’m going out to the shed just because. First, I’m going to play bass a bit. Up to ten years ago, I grabbed the bass and played, I did not need to limber up. That’s changed. Five years back I did need to warm up or I’d miss notes or not quite get some riffs. Now, I need to prep [a few minutes] and even then, I’m not what I was. Missing notes is worst. It’s sad what the ravages of time have done to this old paper boy.
Just a few hours later, there is more news. Caution, this is fourth-hand information. The 4F has proven a master at playing the victim. Her angle was “poor innocent me”. This blows her cover. Innocents don’t upset the furniture. What makes me most happy is that the 4F figured she was immune from consequences, but some smart aleck set her up. That is all for now.
Simple black leggings.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Buoyed up with the rare good news, I was three great hours in the shed. Nothing outside today but desert bugs. The shed design has two large doors to swing open, one on the northwest the other southeast. This allows the prevailing wind through. The path up to the north is in complete shade from my wind corridor and the church. The air is already cooled by the time it enters and this effect is enough that one fan is all that’s needed to keep each room just cool enough. So I made up some boxes and small shelves.
[Author’s note: these are the first two pre-production boxes that have no designated purpose yet. One has thumb holes, neither have any finishing, not even a light sanding. These soak up too much stain even when it is free, up to eight times as much as the now-standard fake box.
These are the K-box, which are not slapped together. They must still follow the rules to come out looking like this. For example, they are each from a single picket, an important consideration stemming from differences in lumber dimensions.]
Because talking to Howie earlier, I notice four of my side fence pickets had pulled away from the rails. This is maybe a four minute job, I walked to the shed, grabbed a drill and four screws, and the pickets are back in shape. I’d been standing still for a while, then fixed that fence and the activity was enough to drain me. Yes, my system is that hair-trigger and I had to stop completely except to shuffle back into the cabin for a snooze. Is this my destiny?
I’m back with zero energy, let’s check the news. A mosque burns down in Texas. After the protest in Dover, the British government banned the balaclava (ski mask). So the protestors switched to the burkha. Maybe the Brits got some balls left, after all? DOGE is still around and has exposed Chelsea Clinton received $82 million in tax-free government grants. A black couple whose son was killed by another black driving a U-Haul at 100 mph has sued U-Haul. They claim U-Haul was responsible for the truck going so fast.
Hours later, I’m still weary, but not sleepy. A short time ago, I read about the Knights defending Malta, today I learn Mel Gibson is making it a movie. That cannot be done accurately without revealing it is Whites against non-Whites and the Knights are known to each kill as many as twenty Turks.
ADDENDUM
Another lame production are the government videos about research along the Nazca Plate, the seamount off the coast of Chile that got my attention last day. What useless crap, the area is not undiscovered, it is unexplored because like that part of the world, there is so little there to be bothered with. Okay, so they discovered new species. Of slugs, worms, and bottom-feeders. They could metaphorically do the same in Minnesota. All the narrators have stereotypical accents. Very little science is presented in these disgusting propaganda pieces. Full of token Hindus, Asiatics, Semites, Aboriginals, and mixed-breeds gaslighting the entire storyline.
Later, I have seen the ending of the “Red Planet, so I turned It off. Instead, I finished the DIY doorbell. Here it is without the wiring, but in working condition. With some decoration, laser-provided. The printing is a generic robot club tag and a small plaque informing the reader that this design has won "0" awards to date.
