He wondered and worried, would hotel rooms begin emulating air travel pricing, monetizing everything? He wondered if there would be a day when he reserved a room but that doesn’t mean he has a room – just like buying an economy airline ticket or even rental cars (see Seinfeld for more). He can imagine going online to rent a room and being offered upgrades. Ten more dollars for both a bed and chair in the room on top of what you’re paying for a preferred floor and location, size, and view. Twenty-five more for pillows, sheets, and blankets. Go for the Deluxe Room Plus – it includes complimentary coffee and a television, just fifty dollars more.
Friday’s Theme Music
As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.
It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.
I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.
Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.
Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.
Wednesday’s Wandering Thought
He didn’t know why they were called ‘hair balls’ or ‘fur balls’. What his cats expelled were little fur logs.
Furgs.
Tuesday’s Wandering Thought
He watched some workers using a backhoe to move a mound of dirt. That’s just what I need to clean the kitty litter box, he thought.
Dishwasher DYI
TL/DR: fixed the dishwasher by taking some of it apart and testing and cleaning things.
“Look at this,” my wife stormed. “These dishes are not clean.” Profanity followed. I think she’s been around me for too many years.
Yes, our GE Profile dishwasher has been giving us poor results a lot recently. It’s six years old but we generally only run it once or twice a week. Which, actually, could be bad for it. I learned from research this week that some systems use a count to recalibrate things.
I found and wrote down the model number and serial number. More research was done. Youtube videos were studied. We ran the machine for troubleshooting. Hot tip: with our machine, at least, there’s no need to run an entire cycle. If that’s not desired, just use whatever cancel feature is set up on your machine. With our machine, turn the start button on as if we’re going to start it, then hold the start button in for more than three seconds. When that happens, the cycle is canceled and the pumps drain the dishwasher.
Our symptoms beyond dirty dishes emerging from the clean cycle was also the soap not getting fully used/dissolved or even dispensed from its compartment on the door. Not to blow my own coronet, but we’re frulk (shorthand for frugal folk) and buy our dishwasher pods at Costco. But doing research, it appeared that the upper and lower arms might not be spinning.
To test the arms, it’s recommended that you note the arms’ positions (some companies refer to the arms as wands) and run the dishwasher for several minutes. You then interrupt the cycle, open the door and see if the arms have moved.
No. They hadn’t.
Next step is a little trickier. There’s a door latch sensor, I guess you call it at the top center of the dishwasher opening. Slipping a long but slender screwdriver in and holding the door open permitted me to see if the arms were spraying at all, or if anything was spraying, in fact. ‘Nother hot tip: if you do this method, make sure you’re ready for a little water to the face if the spray arms are working. Also be ready to pull the screwdriver back fast.
From all of the research and pondering, including listening to it, I concluded that I had to put the diverter assembly. In point of fact, it would be the last thing we did. Our DW uses a four port diverter with two tiny magnets. If they get gnarly, they can cause a problem.
So I removed the racks. We have three: a bottom one with the utensil basket, a top silverware drawer, and the middle rack, with bottle washers. The middle rack was a challenge. It’s an adjustable one and doesn’t use the standard end clips or levers. Instead, two hex screws, one on either side of the rack on the raise/lower mechanism, hold it in place, 7/16″ in a tight, tight spot. Once they’re removed, tabs are slipped out on either side, and then the drawer is pushed backward to clear quarter inch pegs.
After the racks were taken out, I removed the lower arm (turn the plastic locking mech to the left), unclipped and removed the water conduits, unscrewed and removed the micro filter, and then the macro filter. Now I could get to the diverter assembly, which sits in the bottom of the DW basin, in the middle. Two screws secure it. A third, which holds the water conduit to the utensil basket in place, had to be removed to free that conduit so that I could turn and free the diverter.
With all that done, I took a toothbrush and liquid dish soap and cleaned it all. I ran water through the wands and conduits to ensure they weren’t clogged or blocked. Then it was all put back together and a test conducted.
Yes, I put the screwdriver into the latch.
Yeah, I got a face full of warm water and water across the kitchen floor. But I laughed because it looked like success. I put the arms into a parallel position, noted that, and ran it again for a few minutes.
And yep, they were moving, baby.
It felt good to fix something again, but this one had my back and neck complaining after I was forced to work on my knees, bending in and reaching across the DW basin to undo things, remove them, and then put them back. After finishing, I told my wife, “Baby, I’m starting to feel like I’m beginning to get old.”
She replied, “You’re JUST STARTING to feel that?”
Yeah, I laughed.
Weaving
He follows, and then he follows.
Each leading and following
Looking to the other to lead and follow,
Pausing to see where the other is,
More comfortable and reassured after knowing this,
Going back to join them, waiting,
Changing paths, creating intersections,
Following and leading,
Friends and not masters,
Weaving memories of entwining lives together.
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
I’m beginning a new DYI. Our GE Profile dishwasher stopped delivering the desired efficacy. Six years old, though, very old in modern appliance age, I guess it’s showing its age. Troubleshooting was done last night and I think I’ve identified the problem. Repair plans are in place for later today. Since the dishes were still dirty after three washings, my wife and removed the dishes. She washed them, then we dried and put them away.
I remembered when Mom bought her first dishwasher. A white portable unit with a faux blonde wood top. This was in the late sixties when we lived on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, PA. Purchased from Sears, I think it was a Kenmore but I’m not pos.
The dishwasher was on wheels. She parked it over beside the backdoor where its top was useful for storing napkin holders and the salt and pepper shaker, along with pens and a notepad for the phone. Cherry red, the phone had been updated to a pushbutton device. Hung on the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, the phone had an extra long cord which let Mom cradle it against her ear as she cleaned, cooked, or sat at the dining room table or in the living room.
Her new dishwasher really pleased Mom. She employed it every night after dinner. Eventually life forced her to move, several times as it turned out as fortunes waxed and waned. Eventually the dishwasher was sold. She lamented its absence and when she finally bought a house for herself a decade later, my sisters and I came together and bought her a new portable dishwasher. Eventually, my brothers-in-law, both in construction, renovated her house for her, including the kitchen, and the dishwasher was installed under the sink, where it remains.
As I remembered all this and talked with my wife, she pointed out that her Mom never had a dishwasher. Always did it by hand. We often ‘did the dishes’ as it’s phrased when we were visiting.
Funny thing about dishwasher one and two. Neither gave her any problems through all those years, even though that second one has now been in service for almost thirty years.
Different times, friends, different times.
