Category: miscellaneous

Wednesday’s Theme Music

We got rock. And coffee. Day is looking good so far.

Spring is holding onto Ashlandia. Up to 54 F now on this Thursday, May 24, 2023, with the weather dregs insisting that the mid to upper 70s is possible today. Well, a blue sky has shown up. Sunshine is plentiful. Wind has stilled and smells less like winter. Maybe we’ll see those temps. Wonderful walking weather or working outside until it’s dark weather.

Still snow up on the crests around us. That doesn’t mean much. Between altitude, latitude, and longitude, they’re in a different micro-clime. Same if you drive up or down the road more than four miles.

I enjoy the long days of sunlight. Looking forward to and not looking forward to summer solstice. Exciting ’bout it because, hey, summer is here! Carries a load of popular memories and high expectations based on who I was and what used to happen in the summer. But as an established adult, summer arrival ushers in the shrinking of the daylight. The reversal begins. Not right away, but the days will grow shorter. Sunset will arrive a little earlier. Sunrise starts poking in a little later. Ah, c’est le vie.

So I have the patio door-rescreened. Everything is cleaned up, re-installed, looking good. I’m pleased. What mesmerizes me are the floof reactions. They cannot simply walk past the new screen and in through the cleaned frame et al. They must stop and in-teeennntttly sniff it all down. Not just once. Several times. The looks on their faces when they do. They become thoughtful. “What is this? What happened to the smells from the previous residents?”

Part of the reason the screen became so torn up and the area a little dirtier than approved is that I’d installed a cat door there. That’s removed now. But with something like the cat door, I had to pause to remember when it was bought and all the felines that graced it with their feet and fur as they passed through. So many different styles. The criminal type, carefully sneaking in, lifting one corner first, peering in, not making a sound. The blasters, charging through like they’re bursting through a defensive line. Oh, and the undecided, entering half way to stop and look around like they’re realizing, that’s not the door to Narnia. A small subset of the tail-placers existed, too, the cat which would enter or leave, but stop just on the other side, leaving their tail in the other side. Such sweeties and lovelies, all, and so missed with their unique personalities.

The Neurons brought up a 1983 song by Simple Minds, “Waterfront”. This was wholly due to Papi the ginger zing. He tapped on the slider for entrance. When he came in, I discovered him soaked. “Is it raining?” I asked. His reply was to sweep against my legs in a full circle, wetting my calves, and then head for a kibble bowl. So I went out to look. No rain. Must’ve been a sprinkler.

But The Neurons were busy by then, singing “Come in, get out of the rain.” The whole course of the song began seconds later and remain full-throated in the morning mental music stream experience. You know, when I first heard this song back in the day, I thought it was a new song from Tears for Fears. It has that beat. Could be right out of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” to me.

Stay pos and you do you and I’ll do me. Been drinking the coffee, doing me. Off to do other me things now. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

DIY, Again

This DIY project was about replacing a screen on a patio door. The screen door was on the bedroom slider. Long ago, Quinn, the gorgeous and sweet long-haired floof who shared our domicile, decided stretching out and scratching his claws on it was wonderful. Quinn was smart. He quickly discovered that we didn’t like it. Therefore, he restrained himself from scratching when we were around. Once in a while, he’d start, then jerk to a stop with a look at us that said, “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were here. I’ll come back later.”

When Papi, the current ginger-in-residence, joined the household, Quinn thoughtfully taught Papi how to use the screen. Papi then came to understand that plucking on the screen when we were in bed at night and he was outside would bring us to the door and open it for him.

Naturally, all this scratching and plucking damaged the screen. Damaged is such a simple word it feels dishonest. They tore that booger up. So I watched some videos and replaced it. Hardest part was getting the door off the tracks. This was one recalcitrant door. Years ago, my wife said, “Can we take that off?”

“Sure,” I replied, flexing. “Normally you can lift up, clear the bottom tracks, and slide the door away.” As I mansplained this, I attempted to demonstrate. The door would not go. “Sometimes you need to loosen the screws.” I found the screws and loosened them, then tried again.

Wouldn’t clear. I couldn’t even see the bottom wheels so I couldn’t push them up with a flat blade. Frustration set in.

I’d try to remove the screen door every other year or so. Nothing, nothing, nothing. This is the year, I decided. 2023 was the year for freeing the door and replacing the screen.

It was a battle. I completely removed the adjusting screws and lifted. The theory was, raise the door as high as you can, expose the wheels, and use something to press them up into their recess so they clear the track. A putty knife is normally recommended.

It wasn’t working. The putty knife wouldn’t work — couldn’t see the wheels enough to press them in. They just weren’t being exposed, no matter how high I lifted the door, which, of course, was limited by the frame. Eventually, after searching through my possessions, I found a plastic square that’s used for edging when I’m painting. It’s actually a very shallow wedge. By lifting up one end of the door, I made enough space where I could shove the wedge in. Um, wedge it in, as it were. Then I fiercely dragged the door with the wedge under it, gently tugging the door outward, along the track until one part of the bottom wheel assembly cleared the track. Next, I used my putty knife to hold that up while continuing to tug and drag.

Sweaty job, but it worked. After that end was done, I did the other in the opposite direction. With the bottom wheels out of the tracks, removing the door was ease itself.

The screen door was set flat on the patio dining table, spline pulled away, then the screen remains were torn off. Phase one done.

I’d already measured the screen and purchased new screening at Ace Hardware downtown. I could have replaced the entire door rather than the screen. That would have presented some challenges but would have likely been easier and less time consuming. But the current door and wheels were in good shape, so that seemed wasteful. I don’t like to waste. Besides, the new screen material was less than ten dollars compared to some larger price for a completely new door.

Working methodically, I laid out the screen, strung the spline along the groove, and set to work. Beginning on the bottom, I set up the screen to match the opening, providing some overlap, and then inserted some spline on the bottom edge as a place holder. Next, I worked one side, doing the same, pulling the screen tight. So it went, around the entire door. As I worked, I’d pulled the screen tight across the door and push the spline into the groove to hold it until I was satisfied.

My spline tool was a bottle cap remover. Narrow, curved, it wouldn’t damage the spline as a screw driver would. A spline roller would have been ideal but I didn’t have a spline roller and didn’t buy one. I just didn’t want more stuff, especially when I didn’t believe I’d replace another screen. I’m sixty-seven years old and this was my first. I don’t really see another one in my future.

Also, I’d been through my tools recently. In there I found tools for removing car oil filters, oil plugs, and doors for setting points, and gapping spark plugs. As I’d had American, Japanese, and European cars through my lifetime, I’d had to buy tools to account for differences. However, you know how long it’s been since I changed my own oil and filter, or sparkplugs. My last several cars didn’t even have points in that sense, having been replaced by electronic devices. I just didn’t want to add another special tool along them and the Koehler facet tool which I needed to buy to replace their ‘washers’.

So the spline roller was nixed but the bottle cap remover worked well. After I’d done my initial placement of the spline and wanted to push it in deeper, I brought in some diluted dish soap. Dribbling as I went, I lubricated the channel, making it easy to put the spline fully and uniformly into the channel. After that, I trimmed the overlap screen, cleaned off the tracks and window, and re-installed the screen door.

Huzzah. Felt good to get another thing done. On to other matters, like the sprinkler heads.

Cheers

0

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

Among the many differences between him and his wife were how the butter knives were put in the dishwasher. She always put the He figured that since the dishwasher utensil basket’s design dictated that the spoons and forks had to go in handle down, putting the knives’ handles down made sense. All handles down. Uniform, standardized, and probably the ay to get them clean, since that’s how it was set up for the other utensils to be cleaned.

She always put the butter knives in with the handles up. He pointed out his reasoning. She responded, “It doesn’t matter.”

Probably didn’t, but he remained mildly annoyed.

Just mildly.

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

It’s election day in the U.S., one more time. The culmination of hopes, dreams, ideas, complaints, arguments, debates, and discussions about spending, revenue, who is charge, and what’s going to happen next but on a smaller scale than then ‘national’ elections.

They, the omniscient bureaucrats, put it into motion years ago and now we are here, on Tuesday, May 16, 2023. Ashlandia is enjoying lovely sprummer weather. Top temps struck 88 in my slice of the realm yesterday. Late afternoon showers put a damper on that. Timer and settings were for set for four minutes and light to moderate, so that rain was gone almost before you could smell the petrichor. Then thunder boomers commenced. Tucker was unbothered but Papi did a concerned low to the ground jog into the house, sitting down by me to keep him safe. Poor fellow.

It’s 62 F now, 8:30 in the AM. The usual routines have been fulfilled. Coffee is brewed and awaiting entrance into my alimentary canal, which I shall do as soon as the cooling is enough. Sunrise was well before six meows. Not true, really. Papi was in and out, meowing each time for assistance. It’ll be 84 F today, sunny and cloudy.

My biggest news was my cougar sighting. Happened at 10:45 PM. I like going out in the late evening to breathe the air and admire the celestial existence above me. Don’t turn on lights because that would ruin the moment — enough lights already on along the street, thanks — but do carry a small flashlight. This time, when I walked out, I saw an animal in the street start and do a lazy trot up the hill, a cat-like trot but waaayyy bigger than any cat I’ve known. About twenty feet away. Totally silent. Did I mention big? What was really striking was it’s looonnnggg tail.

I flashed the light at them but was too slow. They’d gone up around the corner. My concerns were for my cats. The front door was open behind me. Tucker was saunter-washing — two steps forward, pause to wash a paw, continue two steps — so I closed the door before he was out. Papi was already out, so I called for him sotto voce because I didn’t want the cougar to respond to my whistles, kissing sounds, and name-calling.

As I did that, I thought, did it look like the cougar had something in its mouth? Papi is just a little fourteen pounder. Amuse bouche for a cougar.

Then I went back in, related all to my wife, who was in bed, reading, and got my sword. I figured that if I’m to save Papi from a cougar, a sword would be useful.

I’d bought the sword a few years ago for Halloween. It’s made of wood about half an inch thick, thirty inches long. Stupid me gave away my ball gear, including bats, because I was no longer playing and some youths would make better use of it. Now what was there to ward off a cougar? A broom? Well, yeah…but, you know…image. The sword was better.

Papi didn’t return for hours, but he finally did. Found him on the back patio. He looked like he had a story to tell, seemed ready to spill on an adventure, like, “Damn, you wouldn’t believe the size of the cat I saw. They must be giving him a lot of treats. Cat that size probably just takes his own treats. I wish I was that big. Then I’d show that little dog next door.”

Cougar sightings aren’t unusual for Ashlandia. They’ve been spotting all over town, along with their kills, and kills being made. All is well, for now, though.

Today’s music arises from errand running yesterday, dropping off ballots — Oregon is all ‘mail-in’ but with drop boxes — pick up library books, mail a bill, and buy romaine. Meghan Trainor’s 2022 song, “Made You Look”, came on the car radio. Spouse turned it up with the comment, “I like this song. It’s fun.” I agree. Nice throwback doo wop vibe to it. Short, though, but fun. The Neurons liked it enough to loop it through the mental music stream. Thought it a good song for a cougar sighting — “I made you look.”

Stay pos and carry forward. The coffee has just been tested and The Neurons are pleased. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

The Cheating Dream

What a dream, I’m telling you. Began with my wife and I on a spiritual pilgrimage. We stopped at a small place that seemed to be built inside a cave. They were studying odd phenomena. Included were a series of three holes in the cave’s walls. The holes were square. They didn’t know how they got there. People studied them to see if they were changing or static. My wife suggested I should study them because she thought me good at analyzing things. At the group’s insistence, I gave it a shot.

The holes were very dusty. When I looked into them, I could see that they slanted down and to the left. They seemed to have a flap door on the right side which could cover them. That was part of the controversy. Discussions were revolving whether those flap had always been there, and if the holes were now dustier than they used to be.

I’d glanced at each of the holes when I approached them, then went to the first one on the left. The group provided me sketches which the group had made, so I could look for differences. The first two were examined and no changes were seen. But I immediately saw changes on the third hole, on the right. I pointed it out in excitement, asking a member of the group if he saw the change. This hole was also lit from below. I was intensely interested in climbing into the hole and going down into it, but was also afraid of what was there. I kept leaning in, listening while watching for differences.

My wife had been behind me to my left while this was going on. Now she said, “I’m going to look around. Remember that we need to make a decision before 8:30, and then we’ll go.” Then she walked off.

I kept studying the hole. Suddenly I realized that it was 3 AM. Time had flown past. I was alone. I asked, “Where is my wife?” I walked around looking for her, complaining to myself but aloud, “We were supposed to make a decision hours ago, and leave. Where did she go?”

Opening a door, I discovered my wife in bed with a young white man with short blonde hair. He was very skinny, no one I know from real life.

When the door opened, they separated. Realizing it was me, the man was whimpering and trying to get out of bed and run.

He fell onto the floor. I stormed across the room and grabbed him by his head. He screamed and started crying. A small, round, white table was beside the bed. I prepared to slam his head against the table.

I stopped myself as I bent to do it. He was part of this but what would hurting or killing him do? I paused, thinking about that.

My wife grabbed my arm. “Michael, stop. Please don’t hurt him.”

I turned my head toward her and snapped, “Don’t touch me.”

She pulled her head away and stepped back. I let go of the man and turned toward her. “You did this,” I said. “You started this.”

Dream end.

It took me over an hour to go back to sleep.

0

Friday’s Theme Music

56 degrees F at this moment. Expecting the mid to upper 80s before the sun’s Ashlandia sojourn ends. It’s Friday, My 12, 2023.

Today’s heat is a prelude to a week of it. What irritates about many of these weather changes is how it jumps into hot weather and collapses into chilly weather with little warning. Why can’t we hit the middle ground and stay there for a while.

I know, I whine a lot. Everyone complains about the weather but nobody does anything. I said it here first…

I’m feeling better in a psyche way today. Dropped some anxiety and stress. I naturally gravitate to being those things although I’m weirdly known for being calm in an emergency. Three things resolved that were affecting my stress and anxiety. Got my retired military ID — now known as a an Identification and Privilege Card — issued at last. Been trying for almost a year. Picture looks pretty good, too. Look like a sea captain in it.

Second, first annual physical since I passed 65 years old. Hell, first annual physical in a looonnnggg time. Nothing untoward discovered. As part of my general hypertension, I suffer white coat syndrome. Getting the appointment out of the way was a relief although they IMMEDIATELY scheduled one for next year, so I’ve got THAT to worry about.

Third, sadly but painfully true, is that the death watch for Uncle Bill is over. Reminders of immortality, sadness about changes, another milestone in growing older all seen and felt with one strike.

I was watching my boy, Papi, an aloof ginger floof, as he watched the street traffic yesterday. He can’t help but get into a position to see what is making that noise? What is coming? Then, as the noise-maker closes in — runner, biker, walker — with or without dog — street cleaner, he turns and flees to the porch’s safety, hides behind a post and leans around, continue to watch. If he sees me watching, he comes over to be let in, and then walks around the house demanded to be let outside. The back door is open this morning, letting him come and go.

Weird song The Neurons thrust into the morning mental music stream. From 1967, it’s called “Tin Soldier” by Small Faces (not to be confused with “One Tin Soldier”, which is a totally different song). The roots to hearing it today aren’t clear. Although I had disturbing dreams, I can’t pinpoint anything from them which would call the song out. My best guess is that the mid to late 1960s was time spent around Uncle Bill, so the The Neurons expanded the sphere, bringing this song in.

Stay pos, if you can. Can be difficult, I understand. I think a cuppa coffee is in order for me now. Let the pouring commence. Here’s Small Faces. See you on the flipside.

Cheers

0

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Alexa said, “Your cat, Papi, is at the front door asking to enter the house.” He answered, “Open the door and let Papi in, please.”

“Letting Papi in,” Alexa replied.

It’s really the best thing that Alexa does for him.

And then he woke up.

0

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife exercises three mornings a week. Been doing this since we moved to Ashlandia in 2005. Friendships have developed through the years. A coffee clatch after class — which I call the zoo — was added a decade ago.

Today, she came in and handed me half a package of Trader Joe’s dark chocolate espresso beans.

“Where’d you get these?” I asked.

“Deborah. She said she can’t stop eating them so she’s giving them away. Everyone took what they wanted and told me to take those home to you.”

“That’s kind of her.” I sampled three.

OMG good. I understand Deborah’s decision. The damn things are addictive.

0

Learning

One of the finest aspects of having a partner is the impact it has on learning and memory. In my case, this spot is filled with my wife, a woman. She’s smart, reads many books, and researches matters. Most of which she researches involves women rights, social justice, and health. She shares all that she learns with me, often piquing my interest to go read more on the subject. Not infrequently, some of what she teaches me ends up in some character in a story. For instance, she taught me two things today.

  1. Men have more collagen and thicker skin than women, in general.
  2. Women donate more kidneys but receive fewer kidney donations. When you think about it, it kinda makes sense. If men are having kidney problems, they can’t donate them. So the next step would be to look for information to vet that.

We also act as memory augmentation for one another, covering the other’s weakness. She’s great with social memes, voices, faces, poetry, cooking and baking. I’m passable with math, science, history, pop culture, and technology. It works.

I think it’d work for most, regardless of gender or pronoun, sexual orientation, and maybe even political persuasion. Everyone should at least should not have the right to try taken away from them. Who knows what we all could learn?

3

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑