Finished A DIY
This one took me a while. It turned out to be a pain in the ass. But as a dedicated budgeteer, I refused to give up.
We have Hunter-Douglas bottom-up/top down blinds in three rooms, including the office. My wife calls the office ‘the snug’, but that’s another story ripe with reverberations about words and their meanings and intentions. Anyway, I pulled on the cord to lower a blind and it snapped. Thus began my DIY project.
That happened in May. I researched and researched and researched but couldn’t find guidance or parts about our particular blinds and how to fix them. In early June, I reached out to Hunter-Douglas. Through a two week session of correspondence with photographs, we learned that my honeycomb Duetto blinds were manufacturered before 2007 so they had a different mechanism from what they currently make. Coming through like champs, though, Hunter-Douglas identified the parts I needed and said, “We’ll send them to you.” And then did, no charge for anything.
The parts arrived at June’s end. Meanwhile, the snug, excuse me, office, is the house’s warmest room. It’s also our most used. With only a desk, wall-mounted TV, a few book cases, a desk chair, recliner, and accent chair, we spend hours each day in that room reading, watching television, surfing the net, playing ‘puter games, and on the phone. It would clearly and easily win a household poll for ‘most popular room’. The cats are there just because we are. That’s their M.O.
One reason this room is so warm is that it has a standard ceiling. Much of the house has a ‘high ceiling’. That lets summer heat climb. Yes, it doesn’t do much to help us keep warm in the winter. The other reason for this room’s warmth is that its big window, which takes up most of the outside wall, faces west. The sun starts blazing through it at 3 PM in the summer. It doesn’t stop until the sun sets five hours plus later. The weather station is in there. When it’s over 90 F outside, this room will easily climb into the upper 80s. We use a vertical electric fan to chill us.
I’d taken the blind down for repairs, so that window was exposed. I dealt with that by hanging a large white bath towel on the window via clothes pins. Didn’t look pretty — you should have seen my wife’s scowl when she contemplated it — but it protected us from the sun and gave us needed privacy.
The parts arrived and I commenced on repairs. All went well. At first. The DIY corollary to Murphy’s Law says, “If complications are possible, they will happen.” For me, the complications came when I tried sliding the entire thing back together. It would not go as shown in ten million online videos. Talk about aggravating. Infuriating. Frustrating.
My wife was sanguine. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
I shook my head. “I think I might have to take it in for repairs.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
That was in mid-July. I researched repair centers while studying the blinds. Every third day or so, I’d try again to slide it all together. I tried carefully greasing pieces, and I tried different angles. But in studying the blind issue, I became convinced that the top fabric piece was the culprit. It was hitting against the pull/cranking mechanism. I think, I decided, I might need to cut that thing. I really didn’t want to cut that that thing, though. It’s not just fabric; it is fabric and plastic, and holds the mounts for the spools and shafts which operate the up/down mechanisms. It keeps it all aligned. Besides, I tasked myself, how exactly are you going to cut it? Exacto knife? Pocket knife? Box cutter, carpet cutter, tin snips, wire cutters?
No, I finally said: nursing shears.
With the plastic/fabric slid in as far as possible, I picked up the nursing shears. These are scissors which hospitals use to cut away clothing when people come in with injuries. With them, I cut two inches on either side of the end of the recalcitrant plastic/fabric piece. Lifting it up, I slid the thing home and closed my little flap.
Well done, I exulted.
Except, the lines were now hopelessly tangled.
Aw, fuuuucccckkkk, I morosely groaned.
With some work, I untangled it all enough that I could mount it and close it 80% of the way, top to bottom. But I could not raise it from the bottom. I could lower it from the top, though.
“You did it,” my wife said when she saw.
I shook my head. “No.” I explained the remaining problem. Then came the gut-wrenching clincher. “I might need to take it back apart again.”
Eyes widening, she literally blanched. “Oh, no.”
I set my jaw. “I put it together once. I can do it again.” My fingers were crossed when I said that.
I left it like that for several days. Every once in a while, I gazed at it all and thought about what needed done, but I was chicken shit. I worried that I’d make it worse. Finally, sucking it up, I said, “Enough.”
I took it all apart again. I carefully worked on the lines and spools and untangled it all. Then, I put it back together.
I did it in the morning so the sun wasn’t beaming through the window. It was cool, in the high sixties as morning developed. I had the window open. Despite a cool breeze, I was sweating bullets.
But it’s up. Together. And it works.
Thank the DIY gods.
Twosdaz Wandering Political Thoughts
Just a few tidbits of interest sucked in the grey thinking thingies in me today.
One that was sort of interesting in the course of conversations about inflation, the stock market, tariffs, unemployment, moving manufacturing the U.S., and the economy:
Ford CEO says rare earths shortage forced it to shut factory
This happened back in June. Ford CEO Jim Farley said the slowing critical minerals from China into the U.S. has presented a challenge.
“It’s day to day,” he told Bloomberg TV Friday. “We have had to shut down factories. It’s hand-to-mouth right now.”
Trump has responded by claiming that he’s convinced China to send the U.S. the rare earth minerals without mentioning that China responded as they did when he shoved huge tariffs down China’s throat and stopping visas Chinese students. Mines are supposed to be ramping up rare earth mineral production in the U.S. (Wyoming, Texas, and California) but how long until that gap is closed? ‘Ramping up’ normally takes a while.
Meanwhile, the heat is on in D.C. over the Epstein files. Many, like Trump, asks, why didn’t the Democrats release the files when President Biden was in the White House? Well, first, the records were sealed by a court, and President Biden respects due process. But also, Trump ran on a promise to release them. MAGALand wants that campaign promise fulfilled. It’s important to them because it’s supposed to be all about how terrible the Dems are. The reality may be much different.
As usual, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. That doesn’t include Speaker Mike Johnson and other Republicans. When the going gets tough, they hurry away as fast as possible.
“We’re not going to play political games with this,” Johnson said in a news conference July 22.
Because Trump is a Republican, Johnson didn’t add, because we have mounds of evidence about how differently the Republicans respond to accusations about their bloated God. Instead, Johnson, ‘not playing political games’, called for an early recess.
Finally, one distraction the Trump Regime threw out in their “Squirrel!” distraction tactics was to accuse President Obama of criminal allegations. It’s a terribly pathetic and desperate move, but when you move against facts and truth, pathetic desperation is your MO. Fact checkers have taken to the Trump Regime claims and have come out with the results: ‘Simply doesn’t come close’: Fact-checker takes seconds to dismantle Trump’s Obama claim.
Fortunately for Trump and his Greedy Old Trump Party, often just called the GOTP, Ozzy Osbourne has passed away at 76. That will take some heat off them as the media and public turn their attention to Ozzy and his career.
Coffee Shop Buzz
Give me some chatter, baby. I like hearing the baristas tossing comments around as orders are given and taken. Add some background music, pop and rock songs which I sometimes know, hovering on my conscious awareness. Pump in some coffee making clinks, grinding, hissing, thumps, and clacks. All that together enhances my focus and concentration.
It’s a melange of familiar and forgettable noises blending into one sound, a combo which is easily shunted aside and ignored. It’s when a quiet rises and spreads that I stop my thinking and typing and look up to see what’s going on.
Sounds different from the norm will puncture my focus. Like, a child’s scream. A dog’s bark. A growing argument or increasingly loud disagreement. These all pull me up from under. But otherwise, with that coffee shop blend percolating around me, I think and type until, oh, damn, I forgot to drink my coffee. OMG, the coffee shop is empty. And, my ass has fallen asleep from sitting so long. And, I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago.
Those are all signs that it was a pretty productive day.
Floof Caddy
Floof Caddy (floofinition) 1. A person designated to tend to animals’ needs and manage the animal’s appointments. Origins: 1853, Scotland.
In Use: “Greatly annoying her, Lisa discovered she was the house dog’s floof caddy, picking up his toys, tidying his bed, cleaning and refilling his food and water dishes, checking his supplies, and while she loved Elmo, she really thought someone else in the house of six should be sharing those duties.”
2. An object or space designed or used to hold food or objects made for animals.
In Use: “After seeing a garden tool caddy on sale, Martha wondered if there was a floof caddy which did a similar thing, and then had a friend make one for her, based on her specs.”
Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts
News and views from across the newsphere.
Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts
Well, well, well. I think John Stoehr kicks a few relevant covers off the whole MAGAmess as it relates to Jeffrey Epstein files.
Donald Trump just blew his cover as the ‘real victim’ in new scam on MAGA | Opinion
The president is trying to change the subject after the attorney general closed the case on disgraced financier and Jeffrey Epstein. That’s why Donald Trump has lately been harping on Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell. Someone is to blame for some makebelieve problem and Trump wants to be seen as the solution.
But even if Trump were able to redirect the press corps’ attention, he is unlikely to change the dynamics under way among the MAGA faithful. Trump says Powell must go so that interest rates fall, but to the extent that MAGA base was ever motivated by inflation or the cost of living, it was a secondary concern. MAGA’s principal motivation is drawn from a cosmic story about the battle between good and evil, and with the Epstein scandal, Trump has raised doubts about which side he’s on.
Which story? QAnon. It’s the belief that Donald Trump is the epic hero in a secret war against powerful and malevolent (and Jewish) conspirators who have plotted with agents in the government (the deep state), corporations (wokeness) and the media (lies) to sabotage America. The end of the story was supposed to come when Trump released the Epstein files in advance of executing God’s enemies.
Read more here…
Stoehr’s piece of thinking tickled me. I knew MAGALand was infuriated by how the Trump Regime is handling the Epstein Files. Trump promised to release the files so they could know the truth. MAGAts want the files, specifically, ‘the list’, released. The List is supposed to be the smoking gun, the evidence of all the deep shit that Trump has been claiming the hated Democrats and Liberals have been doing in secret while creating and managing their vast shadow government, where they control the weather and scheme against the pure Christians and whites who deserve a nation unsullied by non-whites, a land where education isn’t tainted with facts and truth that makes them queasy.
But after detail after detail is put out there about the Epstein file, Trump finds himself increasingly angry, defensive and isolated. He’s flailing to make the rest of the world turn the damn channel. But as Stoehr points out, MAGALand can’t; to disavow the Epstein files as Trump demands means that they must also disavow the entire fabric of the QAnon universe.
Pulling that thread would unravel their fantasy. MAGALand knows it; Trump is trying to pretend it isn’t true. But if MAGALand is forced to accept that the Epstein files lack all the damning evidence that Trump has claimed is in it, they might be forced to confront, how else has he lied to us? They might even start realizing how much Trump duped them and used them. They might even question if Trump was sent by God. As one of Trump’s far right supporters, Nick Fuentes, said, “You are fat, you are a joke, you are stupid, you are not funny, you are not as smart as you think you are,” Fuentes said, later adding, “This entire thing has been a scam.”
That could be the end not just of Trump but of all those others who spread and supported his fictions. For him, for them, it’s less about if Trump is in the files; it’s more about the Democrats not being in it.
Fingers crossed that this all blows up. Frankly, I don’t give a damn any longer who might be in it.
Floofologica
Floofologica (floofinition) – Inability to rememember a name or term associated with animals. Origins: 1970s United States.
In Use: “One struggle with caring for Sybil’s pets for her while Sybil was on vacation was Chloe’s floofologica. Of the three cats, two dogs, and single bird, the only one whose name she recalled was the bird’s, Amber, because her favorite drinking beverage was amber ale.”
Satyrdaz Wondering Thoughts
I’ve downsized my coffee shop drink. As a familiar there, the baristas are prone to making it as soon as they see me and likewise ringing it up while confirming that I’m getting ‘the usual’.
BTW, I’ve always liked the expression ‘to ring it up’. I’ve written about it before and how it seems so archaic. I haven’t been in a place where the cash register rings with a new purchase in a while.
Sidebar aside, I’ve been educating the baristas about my smaller drink size. Today’s barista said, “May I ask, is it caffeine or price..?”
I smiled. “Nope. It’s waste. I noticed I wasn’t finishing my drink. I’m a boomer and was raised not to waste.”
The twentyish barista said, “Oh, I totally get that. I don’t waste at home. I’m the only one who eats leftovers in my house. It’s crazy, but I don’t want to waste anything.”
“You might be an honorary boomer,” I said.
“Maybe.” She glanced around and leaned forward. “It sure doesn’t come from my family.”
The 11/22 Dream
Young, I was outside at a gathering surrounded by friends and many other festive souls. I was waiting to begin a trip, but I didn’t know any details. Seated at a small white table with matching chairs, people would come by and say hello or they’d pass and I’d call out greetings. It was all very carefree and relaxed. At one point, I decided to make some of my hair light blue. Then, tiring of it, I’d wiped the blue hair almost completely out, leaving just a streak of light blue.
On the white table were three tall glasses with ice. I knew that these had been Long Island Ice Teas, and I’d consumed them. A fourth glass was 3/4 full with another Long Island Ice Tea, but I’d decided not to drink it. Besides those was a flat white napkin thick with light blue; that had been my hair before I wiped it off.
I’d met a new person, a young man named Robert. We chatted and got along. I started calling him Rob or Robby. Then I heard someone called him Bobby. I asked him about it and he said, “Yes, I prefer Bobby.” I said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bobby was going away, to the same place where I was going. But Bobby had all of his details about when he was going and how, and he was leaving the next morning. People asked me, “Why does Bobby know but you don’t know. That doesn’t make sense.” I shrugged it off but it began to bother me.
Several things I did know was that I was leaving on 11/22, and that was a week away, and I was flying, and someone else was making my arrangements. I decided to try to find out more. I brought out my laptop and then inserted my hard drive, which I’d removed for safety. But then, I lost interest in knowing, thinking, they will tell me and there’s no hurry.
Dream end.
