Diane’s Birthday & Little Kids

Posted on December 20, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

On this day, a few years ago, Diane was born at Emanuel Hospital in Portland. I think her Mom was in the same room my Mom was a few years earlier when I was born in the same hospital. Maybe we even had the same doctor and he created the link between us the allowed us to find each other and know the search was over.

Diane has weathered the years far better than I have. Some of you might think that it’s because she knows how to use makeup better than me, but you’d be wrong. I know how to use makeup just fine. It’s just that she hardly uses any at all. Still others may think it’s because she’s been pampered her entire married life, and you’d be correct. I pamper her to the point where she gets really tired of me doing things for me and tells me to leave her alone. I’m finally starting to get the message and we’re getting along much better now. Finally, after all these years. Truth is, I’m very lucky she spent the time to coach me through the rough parts. And, she raised our kids pretty much all by herself since I was gone a lot during their formative years. She was the boss and disciplinarian who got results. Not me. For all that effort I will be forever grateful to her. For that, and for agreeing to marry me and embark on that journey.

To celebrate the day we (Mom, Me, Diane, Jack, Wynette, Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran) had an early dinner at Fultano’s in Scappoose. We spent two hours visiting and laughing. Jennie gave Diane a card that made her cry. Jennie knows how to do that. I have a photo to prove it, but it’s hidden somewhere in the ‘cloud’ and I can’t find it. I will, eventually, then I’ll add it. We all had a good time, as we tend to do whenever we all congregate. Jeff, Heather, and their children were missing from the party because they had a previous engagement, but they came by the house later, after we got home.

Regarding that visit … my namesake, Jerrie Anne, is a busy little person. She, Gilligan, and Baylee came in full of energy, but the older two listen to reason far better than she does. Anything below 4 feet off the floor is fair game for Jerrie. She’s good about giving up what she picks up, but she doesn’t hesitate to grab something again right away, over and over. It’s a fascinating quest of discovery for her and an arduous, tiring effort for whoever has the energy to keep track of her. I tried it for a while but quickly discovered that it’s really good I’m not placed in a position where I must do it long, and often. She’s a lot like Jennifer in her actions at the same age. I applaud Jeff and Heather for the energy they expend to keep all their kids safe and happy.

I’m getting more tired thinking about it. So, I must stop.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.

Coffee Makers, Hot Tubs, and E. Collars

Posted on December 19, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I’m here to tell you that I’m bona-fide expert on the inner workings of Bloomfield Model 9012 coffee maker. I really am, and I’m really sorry I didn’t become an expert on it far sooner. You see, for years the church ladies have been mopping up water that’s been leaking from it, and complaining about how it doesn’t brew a full pot of coffee. It just didn’t work like it was supposed to. With my newly acquired expertise I discovered that the problem was three aging silicone tubes that cost a total of $14, including shipping. Over the years the ladies have probably mopped up 3 times that cost in wasted water. So, if you happen to own a non-functioning Bloomfield Model 9012 coffee maker, I bet I can fix it. Maybe not for $14, but I can fix it. Some of the parts cost $150 but they are stainless steel and not likely to fail unless someone, you know, hits it with a nail gun, or maybe it gets dropped in the parking lot just in time for the garbage truck to run over it. Things like that. Something unusual. Something rare. I know I’m getting all cocky about this, and I’m just guessing because the parts are in transit and have yet to be installed. I know, however, deep down in my troubleshooting soul, that they will solve the problem. Here’s the coffee maker when I had it all ripped apart …

Now, about that hot tub. I’m sure you are all wondering what’s going on with it, right? Well, it’s been driving me nuts for about a week. Really. Absolutely nuts! I don’t know if I mentioned that I got a new pump for it or not, but I did. It arrived very quickly after I ordered it online. I love shopping that way and it’s surprising how often I order the right ‘stuff’. This time, it was the perfect fit and the pumps went back in just great. I plugged everything in, energized it, and watched it go through the start-up process then actually start priming. I was more than excited, as I’m sure you can all imagine. The tub has been unusable since mid summer because of many error codes, and the one of the pumps failed in a magnificent, really noisy manner. I still kinda worked, but you needed earplugs if you had any desire to sit in the water. Then the error codes stared up. I got new temperature sensors hoping to resolve the error codes, because that’s what the internet told me to do. When I replaced them water squirted up out of the holes in the heater, which is located inconveniently directly below the circuit board that controls everything, and drenched it. Yes, I had the power disabled, and tagged out so I could be reasonably sure I wouldn’t get electrocuted. Still, I was careful, except for the water. My compressor was upstairs, in the garage, and the hose wouldn’t reach anyway, so I could use it to blow the water out of, and off, the circuit board. Working with computers, however, has caused me to ensure I always have a can of compressed air lying around somewhere, so I used that to dry things off. In my experience, you can recover from things like that if you clean it up quickly. After blowing it all out, I left the cover off and didn’t go near it for a few days. Finally, I couldn’t wait any longer and had to turn it on to see what would happen. Sadly, it worked just like before, but with more noise. That’s when I ordered the pump. I guess that brings us up to today, in a roundabout manner. As stated above, everything appeared to start-up properly, then I got the dreaded “dy” error code which the internet told me means the heater doesn’t think it has enough water in it. Then I started playing with the wires, switching them around, trying to make the new motor run at both speeds, but couldn’t. I spent a lot of time on the internet researching this, moving the plugs all over the place, but couldn’t get it to work like it used to. It would heat for a bit, then error out and stop. Frustrating. Then I did a really brave thing and swapped the pump connections on the circuit board as a last-ditch effort before emptying the tub, pulling it out into the yard, and giving my chain saw a little workout as I cut it into tiny little pieces that would fit in the recycle bin. But, wonder of wonders, it worked. I was hung up on the belief that the motor I replaced was Pump 2 when, in fact, it’s apparently Pump 1. It’s been running for a few hours now, and last time I looked the temp was up to 88. So, there’s a very distinct possibility that Diane is going to get her one and only birthday wish. All she wants is for the hot tub to work. She just loves that thing and sits out there in the freezing cold, reading books on her iPad as it floats around on the styrofoam float I made for her.

Her birthday, incidentally, is tomorrow, December 20th. I forget how old she is but it really doesn’t matter because she’ll always be 21 to me. That’s how old she was when we got married, I think.

I learned something new today when I fell up the stairs. Yeah, I know. That’s pretty lame, but it’s less damaging than falling down the stairs, believe me. What I learned was that in a fraction of a second you can hurt multiple parts of your body at exactly the same time. I was carrying something, apparently heavy, and when my right foot slipped, I simultaneously stubbed my left big toe really hard, smashed my right thumb between a step and whatever I was carrying, and slammed my left elbow into another stair. All at once, and they all hurt equally so I couldn’t figure out which one to be more concerned about. Ultimately, I just serenaded them all with the sucking ‘S’ noise you are supposed to make when you get injured. I was unable to get up and hop around, so I just sat there making that noise. I don’t know why because there was no one around to hear me. Still, it’s the right thing to do, and it helped give me something else to concentrate on while the pain subsided, as it eventually did.

Then I went on about my business, doing whatever it was I was going to do, whatever that was.

This afternoon I made a trip to ACE to get “stuff” and got to talk with Jack for a while. That’s always a plus when I got to ACE. Some times he’s not there so I have to find things all by myself. One of the things I needed was a large wood bead-type thing so I could repair a nut cracker Diane got for Jeran. It needed a new hand, which are made from large wood bead things, and it needed something to hold. So, I got dowels at ACE, too, to make that happen. Now the nut cracker is holding a staff atop which sits a brass fitting used to unite two pressure hoses, a wire nut, and a silver bell-shaped piece of metal I found. Here’s the result.

Yes, his right hand is way bigger than his left.

On the way home from ACE I stopped at Diane’s Mom’s house to fix the lights I strung up for her. She wasn’t worried about them, but I was and, by golly, I was going to fix it. Oddly, I knew exactly how I was going to do it, too. The problem was I had six of strings of lights connected in series and the first string kept blowing those tiny little fuses in the pronged end. So, I got an adapter that would accept three plugs and hooked them up so only two were connected. Now they work. Then I helped her clean her bathroom fans. The one in the bathroom she uses was a little dusty, but the one in the guest bathroom looked brand new. I didn’t find that odd at all.

After getting all that stuff fixed, I decided to start tearing my work bench apart. I took out almost two dozen lag bolts from the boards then pried them off. Under the first couple of boards is a two foot section of a beam that was placed, I presume, to add substance to the 2×6 planks above them. There may be another couple of spots that have a beam underneath, but I haven’t checked, yet. To get the back surface board off requires me to remove the peg board. To get the peg board off required me to remove all the tools on that side. Additionally, I had to relocate the shop light that’s been hanging from a couple of peg board devices for a couple of years. I was attempting to nail it to a beam in the ceiling when it ripped itself from my manly grasp and smashed up against the wall, shattering both lights and covering the old Playboys I forgot I had with tiny pieces of glass. I could see the Playboys once I removed the top boards. Once the light fell, I just called it a day and quit. It was almost 2200 anyway.

Here’s how I left it …

Oh, ya, almost forgot. Today was the day that Panzee’s PCP said we might be able to remove her cone of shame. The doc never called back so we just decided to do it and see how things went. Instead of being really happy about getting it off, so she could lick her butt, or scratch her neck, she immediately went to work on her knuckle and quickly had it all irritated again. So, I put the cone back on. She sat very calmly through the process as if it was something we do every day.

Also, here’s a photo of the little gloves to which I added beads. Normally I just work in solid colors, so the designs on these posed a singular problem with regard to bead colors. Still, I think they look OK … as little beaded gloves go …

Coffee Pot, Mixers, and Sizzler

Posted on December 16, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

So … I managed to totally dismantle the church’s Bloomfield Integrity Model 9012 Coffee Maker, right down to the last bolt and screw. I was really proud of myself and it was especially fun when I showed Diane all the innards, where the water circulates before filtering through the coffee grounds. Really gnarly. Knowing this, would you drink coffee that was made using this machine?

Herein lies the true value of a coffee ground filter. However, I’m guessing that from now on many of you may seriously question little chunks of stuff you find in your coffee. Don’t just assume it’s coffee grounds. Me? I’m OK with it. Doesn’t bother me at all. I figure it’s just as good as taking a calcium pill once or twice a day. What could it hurt? Especially if the coffee is laced with Italian Sweet Cream creamer. As I tippy tap across my keyboard, all those parts are soaking in the sink in a mixture of vinegar and baking soda. The chemical reaction is churning all those particle loose and will probably, also, dispose of the liquid wrench I had to use on some of the extra tight fittings.

Then there’s Diane’s mixer. It’s a Kitchen Aid that we’ve had a long time and it’s served us well. So, it’s worth it for me to at least attempt to fix it. That, and fixing things is just something I enjoy doing. OK. Trying to fix things is something I enjoy. Actually, taking them apart to see what makes them tick is the best part. Sometimes I just take things apart, see what’s going on, then put it in a box and hide it in the basement. It’s always fun when I find it, sometimes years later, and try to put it back together. The challenge begins when I come up with missing parts that were removed to fix something else. When that happens it all goes back in the box for another day.

Anyway, here’s what the inside of a Kitchen Aid mixer looks like. I was amazed at the amount of grease covering the gears, right over the top of the mixing bowl. Tasty.

This afternoon, as planned, Jack and Wynette stopped by so we could all carpool over to Sizzler in Longview for lunch. You may have heard me mention it before because it’s a favorite trip for lunch after church. I cannot recall ever going to Sizzler on a week day, so this was special. It was a food oriented celebration of 51 years of wedded bliss for J&W. They would have gone yesterday, but it was foggy. Like normal, we had an extremely good, laugh a minute, time. The food was just a bonus because we’ve had many extremely good times just visiting in each other’s living rooms. Unlike Sundays, Sizzler didn’t have the monstrous fried chicken legs, just the wings. They were still good, and I ate six of them, but I missed my legs. Love those things. I had a taco, and two servings of spaghetti, too. Then, when I went to get dessert, Jack told me that Diane said to “surprise” her with a dessert, so I did. I got a soup bowl and filled it with at least a pint of ice cream, then buried it in chocolate and butterscotch topping. I had to set the bowl on a plate because it was almost running over the edge. Diane was surprised and, I suspect, won’t ask me to do that again. I wound up eating a lot of it after I went back to get her some bread pudding.

The day isn’t quite finished, yet, as Diane is going to visit her Bunco Babes at 1900 and I have a Lions Club board meeting at 1900. I’ll be home shortly after 2000, but she won’t make it until 2200, or so. That leaves me home alone for a couple of hours.

I think I’ll paint something.

The Past Three Days

Posted on December 16, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Over the past three days …

I crocheted beads on little gloves for little girls
attended a cantata at Warren Community Fellowship Church during which 32 choir members from 3 area churches gave us an incredible performance
Diane sustained a potentially fatal mixer injury when her mixer jumped off it’s stand, in the midst of a mixing frenzy, and hit the floor causing very moist spice cake mix to leap from the bowl scattering it all over the kitchen, and causing Diane to whip around real fast to see what was going on, wrenching her back
I helped pick out, deliver, erect, and string lights on the Christmas Tree for church
I cleaned off my work bench
attended the annual TVCC Christmas Party at Finley’s Funeral Parlor
had lunch at Fultano’s Pizza joint in Scappoose after church service
fixed Diane’s Mom’s Christmas Lights and sustained a potentially fatal injury in the process when I tripped on a rock and slammed into the house

If you’re OK with just highlights, you can stop now because the remainder of this missive is just detail.

Crocheting – yes, I’m “that” guy. I crochet. My Aunt Bert taught me how when I was 8-years-old and I’ve done it off and on ever since. I’ve made lots of doilies, a few table clothes, afghans and scarves. Oh, I make snow people, too. Lately, the activity of choice has been crocheting pretty beads on little gloves for little girls. This is the year for home-made things for Christmas. We’ve talked about doing that for years but it never seemed to happen. Until now. I’m finding that it’s something I should have been doing for years. It’s fun.

The Cantata at Warren Community Fellowship Church was great. As mentioned above, there were 32 singers from 3 area churches. Three of them are singing with our church for our Christmas Eve service. They are Marion, Crystal, and Tiffany, three generations of their family. All have incredible voices but Tiffany, the youngest, tops them all with her vibrant, crystal clear soprano. And, she plays the flute and works at Starbucks. A unique array of talents. Tiffany’s Mom, Crystal, is our choir director for the second year in a row since Nancy retired from that job. We only have 12 voices in our choir, and wouldn’t be able to do a cantata, but we have fun just the same. That, and we sing Hosianna, a traditional Swedish tune, in Swedish. Acapella, too.

The Fatal Mixer Injury was particularly interesting. Diane was making an upside-down fresh apple cake to share at the Saturday evening TVCC Christmas Party. During the course of making this tasty treat she said she turned her back on the mixer for just a couple of seconds. That’s all it took for the mixer to skip a beat and leap to its death on the kitchen floor. Cake batter flew everywhere. Startled by the noise, Diane jerked around to investigate and wrenched her tender back. I was in the East Wing of the house and heard the crash, but not the scream, so didn’t bother investigating. I hear noises all the time so they don’t startle me much. Especially when they don’t happen right next to me. By the time I made my way to the kitchen it was all cleaned up and the mixer was on the counter. I received a synopsis of the events which ended with news of the mixer’s demise. Curious, I plugged the mixer in, turned it on, and was treated to a lot of nasty grinding noises causing me to quickly turn it off. I took it to the basement and dismantled it discovering that a critical element was busted and needed to be replaced. With the help of a quick internet search I found and ordered the necessary part. It’s on the way.

The Church Christmas Tree was donated by Rod and Sandy who own a tree farm and go to our church. A month or so ago it was determined that Saturday, the 14th would be the day a group of Bethany Men would go get the tree. At 0950 I arrived. Bill was already there. We only had to wait a short time before David appeared with the pickup needed to transport the tree. Bill and I led David to the farm then went to select the tree. Fortunately, for Bill and I, there was a beautiful tree, already cut, leaning against a post near the entrance. Our job was done so all we had to do was get it back to the church. Once there Bill and I herded the 15′ tree from the truck into the church and got it installed in the incredibly heavy tree stand, then installed the angel and all the lights we could find. Considering our job done, we left to pursue other endeavors for the remainder of the day. I went home and cleaned off my work bench.

My Workbench has been the source of much grief to me over the years so I decided enough was enough and just had to clean it. At this point in time, all 17′ 2″ of it are mostly bare, awaiting my undivided attention to dismantle and rebuild it in a more useful configuration. First, 17’2″ is just too long for a reasonable work bench. That, and it’s too tall to work at for any length of time. So, I’m going to dismantle it and nail it back together. Also, all of the surface boards are bolted down with screws so the top isn’t flat. I didn’t notice that until I removed everything. We’ve been in the house since 2007 so I’m sure you can see how I might forget what that horizontal area looked like after six years. It’s been covered with ‘stuff’ for that long. Doing this will involve the use of some very sharp, powerful tools. I’ll try to remember and take pictures and I’ll let you know how it goes if I can still type when it’s all over.

The Annual TVCC Christmas Party is always a raucous affair where we have more fun than legally allowed by old people. TVCC stands for the Tualatin Valley Cruiser Club which has been around since the PT Cruisers debuted in 2000. Diane and I are charter members of the TVCC and participated as club officers for many years. Over the years the club became more about people than PT Cruisers and many life-long friendships were forged during that time. Diane and I have attended almost every Christmas celebration that has been held in various locations throughout the greater Portland Metro area until we finally got settled in at Finleys Sunset Hills Mortuary. It’s a very large facility near the Portland Zoo and has two advantages over past venues: 1) It’s free because one of our members runs the place, and 2) The neighbors don’t complain about the noise. Steve’s the member who facilitated this arrangement and we are all very appreciative.

Fultano’s Pizza you’ve heard about before. It’s a relatively new joint in Scappoose that we’ve visited a few times in the past and we’re very happy with the service and food. Yesterday, after church, that’s where we went with Diane’s Mom, Jean. It was her turn to pay so we picked a place a little higher on the food chart above McDonald’s or Taco Bell. The wisdom of our choice was reaffirmed, once again

Mom’s Christmas Lights were a topic of discussion on the way home so while Diane and Jean hunkered down in their chairs, I went back out into the cold to play with electricity. I knew what the problem was that caused them to stop working so it was an easy fix. One of those tiny little fuses in the pronged end of the cord overloaded and blew it’s brains out. That’s why fuses are surrounded by glass – so their brains won’t splatter all over like Diane’s cake mix did. That would be awful. I knew where Jean hid the spares so replaced one of the two in the first string of lights and, viola! They all lit up, just like I knew they would. The lights are on a lace leaf maple tree so it looks like a huge umbrella when the lights work. During the process of curing the problem I went under the umbrella portion, where I can stand erect, so I could get to the fuses. After replacing the blown one, I tripped over a large rock, stumbled about 2 steps, then slammed into the house with my right shoulder. My main thought was that if the house hadn’t been there I would have fallen flat on my face and problem broke something. Thankfully, the house was there and broke my fall so that the only thing injured was my shoulder and neck. I deemed it to be a temporary injury that had potentially fatal results at the onset of the events leading up to the crash. Later, Diane said she heard the crash but thought it was a car door, or something, so stayed wrapped up in her chair not feeling an urgent need to investigate. I think that was pay back for me not investigating the mixer crash event. That’s fair. When done, I returned to the house innards, to warmth, and sat in a rocking chair to rest, recover, and visit a bit before we headed home. About that time, the lights went out again so I think I’m just going to stuff a piece of gum wrapper in the fuse slot and call it good.

Now it’s Monday morning and I revel, again, in the reality that I do not have to get up to do anything, or go anywhere, unless Diane wants me to. If you must travel to work today, I bless you all with a safe trip there and home again. I can do that. Bless people. We all can, actually. It doesn’t always work, but it’s a nice gesture and, when it does work we can say, “I did that!”

Now it’s time for my morning nap.

Politicians Are Not Ordinary

Posted on December 13, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Hey there! I got an answer from Senator Merkley about the question I asked regarding a statement he allegedly made that concerned me. I say “allegedly” because it was in an email that I’m pretty sure he didn’t write, but I bet he thought it was OK. In it, he referred to how his efforts were to help “ordinary” Americans. My question to him was, “how do you refer to other Americans that you don’t view as ordinary?”, or words to that effect.

Here’s the response … not an answer …



Dear Jerold, Thank you for your email received on November 23, 2013, sharing your thoughts about my recent e-newsletter, the Oregon Report. I have made note of your perspective and appreciate your feedback. Please know I benefit greatly by hearing a wide spectrum of opinions expressed by Oregonians. I listen carefully to and weigh these views as I study each issue and decide how to best advance policies that help Oregonians and their families. Thank you, again, for sharing your thoughts with me. All my best, Jeffrey A. Merkley United States Senator

	Facebook	Please note that any reply to this email address will be sent to an unmonitored email address. To contact me, please visit the contact page on my website.
	Twitter
	YouTube
	E-newsletter

Just another canned email that didn’t address my question even a little bit.

Or, maybe it is an answer because he considers me just an ordinary American who will be perfectly happy that he responded at all. The fact that he, and his minions, didn’t address my question directly tells me a lot with regard to their effort to communicate effectively.

Or, maybe they were just too busy to be bothered with trivial ‘things’.

Yes. That must be it.

They are all just too busy wrapping things up so the senator can go on his Christmas … oops, sorry … holiday vacation.

I’m proud to be an Ordinary American.

Considering that, yesterday I told Diane that I think I’ll run for president the next time we have an election. She said, “where are you going to get the millions of dollars you’ll need to fund a campaign?” A simple statement that speaks volumes about what’s wrong with the majority of non-ordinary Americans who run our country. You can only get elected if you have money, or you know someone who does and they’re willing to spend it on you.

That’s sad.

I rate that right up there with movie ratings on the news. The only factor pertinent to this report is how many millions of dollars a movie made when it was released, not how good or enjoyable it is. They are just relating the money to popularity.

Same for politics.

OK. Now I’m done. Maybe the Secret Service will show up this time.

Speaking about that, during my last career, I worked with a retired Secret Service agent who was one of Nixon’s personal guards.

Go figure.

Jack’s Birthday

Posted on December 12, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

This is mainly for everyone who forgot that today is Jack’s day. I called his cell phone and sang happy birthday to him like I do for all my brothers, every year. This time it went to voice mail which is OK because he will be able to play it over and over whenever he wants. Over and over. I’m sure he’ll do that.

Since it went to voice mail, I knew where he was … working at ACE. He doesn’t answer his phone when he’s on the floor. It’s a punishable offense I suspect. Anyway, I had to go there to get ‘stuff’ for one of my on-going projects, so had an opportunity to sing to him in person. Made him smile, even though it was just the two of us in aisle 27, near the plumbing stuff. So, he’s another year old and, for another five months will be 6 years older than me, as he’s always been.

I bought him a set of Stanley screw drivers that were on sale for $1.99. Of all the things in the store, that’s all he wanted.

Here’s a picture of his birthday party from five years ago. I think he’s the one in the middle.

What a guy.

Happy Birthday, Big Brother.

My Root Canal

Posted on December 11, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I haven’t had a root canal in quite a while, so a few months ago I decided to make an appointment to get one done. That took an initial appointment so my dentist, Dr. Grimm (his real name) and I could agree on which tooth he should work on. He applied something super cold to various teeth, to see if any of them made me jump out of the chair, and he hit it on the third one. We agreed that was the tooth.

So, the appointment was made for today, at 1300, and that’s where I spent my afternoon visiting with Tracy and the good doctor. All of the dentists I’ve visited in the past palmed off root canals to another practice that specializes in them which incurs another office visit. My dentist, however, is a many of many trades and works in an office that provides all required services from start to stop. I like the change because it’s going to get done faster and I’ll only have one guy to blame if things go south on this tooth which was put out of its misery right at 1310, or so. That’s when I got the needle. A really long one.

After Dr. Grimm was almost finished, Tracy was kind enough to snap this photo of me on my iPad.

I was pleasantly pleased to note that nothing was hanging out of my nose. That’s one of my main concerns when I visit the dentist because I know, for sure, that’s where they always look first. I guess that’s a little weird, but I’m OK with weird, as most of you know.

The red and white things are probes that are stuck into the roots so they would show up nicely on the x-ray Tracy took. Three roots were cleaned out so I don’t know where the blue probe went, unless it was deemed unnecessary for the x-ray. After ensuring himself things were progressing as planned, the Good Doctor proceeded to fill them with nifty little sticks of gutta-percha which is a latex material used to waterproof underwater cables during the last half of the nineteenth century. When it was first used in dentistry is not documented on the link, but I suspect it was not long after companies began making latex gloves for surgical procedures.

A large industry, whose name escapes me at the moment, was created around the many uses for gutta-percha, including a niche for dentists, and latex gloves used in many surgical procedures, including those for dentists who do not like slobber on their tender skin while working on teeth.

Latex gloves became very popular and, as all popular things do, also became a problem when it came time to dispose of them. Considering that anyone in the medical industry, and those who refinish furniture, use these gloves in mass quantities, you can appreciate what a burden this created for the dumps littering the world. Burning them wasn’t a solution, either, because doing so created a medical problem for pretty much anything that breathes. So, someone began collecting all the discarded latex gloves, melted them down, and began making condoms out of them as a way of helping curb the soaring world population and to ensure young girls still in school did not become impregnated before her parents told her it was OK to do so.

One day an enterprising dentist accidentally melted a brand new latex condom and, through a process only he knows, discovered that it worked well for filling reamed out roots in one’s teeth. Through this humble beginning, dentists quickly resorted to using virgin gutta-percha because none of them wanted to waste their expensive condoms by melting them down. Then, too, there were suspected cases that some dentists were using used condoms for this purpose. Such dentists were relieved of their rights to practice dentistry and forced to become lawyers who could only serve as pro-bono public defenders.

Now the process has been refined to the point where little, tiny gutta-percha slivers are used to obturate the empty space in the roots of a tooth after it has undergone endodontic therapy. Discovering that caused me a to question the use of that term, therapy. I mean, c’mon, they’re drilling large holes in teeth. How can that be therapy? Then, after a bit of serious thinking, I could only agree because they are, after all, ‘making it better.’ And that’s therapy, right?

Dr. Grimm filled three roots with gutta-percha, then broke out another entire set of little tiny rasps and began scraping the nerve from a 4th root he had found. Thankfully he found it before it was all closed up. Once done, he filled the 4th root with gutta-percha slivers, then applied a nifty little tool that melted them into the holes, sealing them from further incursion by bodily fluids. Then he topped it off with something else. I don’t know what it is, but it dried very quickly, it was ground off a bit, and I was sent on my way to schedule my next visit for the crown. That’s going to be on January 15th.

If you’ve read this far, not knowing just a little bit about how my little head works, most of what you’ve just read is not true. Not all, just most. I leave it to your discretion as to what parts you wish to believe.

Again, if you read this far, thanks. I appreciate it.

Panzee, The Hot Tub Project, & Other Things

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I’m learning something new so I will have something to fall back on when I finally retire. Again. It’s fixing hot tubs. I figured since Don got me through an engine tune up with the old truck, I gained enough mechanical experience to fix pretty much anything. So, I removed one of the pumps from our hot tub to see if I could figure out what was making it sound so bad. It used to be just fine but late last summer it started making kind of grinding-squeeling noise, and it would not kick over on low-speed during the start-up process. It just hummed, and quit, hummed and quit, hummed and quit, etcetera.

Since the weather was hot back then, I just disconnected the power and set it aside. Now that it’s terribly cold out, Diane reminded me how much she likes the hot tub and how nice it would be if it worked like it’s supposed to. I could only agree, so pulled the pump I thought was making the noise, and tore it apart after a bit of internet research. I still find it amazing how much information is available out there about anything you want to know. Very specific information, too. I just love the internet.

I took a bunch of pictures in my shop but none when I had the pump motor in pieces so you’ll just have to get your photo fix with this one. It’s just a bunch of license plates I removed from various vehicles we have owned over the years. What’s missing are the ones from Okinawa, and one from Rome, Italy and Florida. When we moved from Okinawa in 1970 we went to Rome and shipped a 1965 Thunderbird Landau. When we licensed it we had to turn in the Okinawa plates for AFI ones. That’s for “Allied Forces Italy”. Since we didn’t ship the car home, we didn’t get the Italian plates. Then we moved to Florida, then to Guam where we had to turn in the Florida pates. While in Italy, it became fashionable to firebomb cars with AFI plates because the bombers thought they stood for American Forces Italy. Consequently, many cars were destroyed that belonged to many other countries. This was during the Nixon era, 1970-1973.

Anyway, here’s that photo with the missing plates …

I’ll also throw in one of the pump, even though you can’t see much of the pump except the end that has the little spinny thing on it that flings water through the pipes. That other gray piece is the spinny thing cover.

Once I got it all apart, I couldn’t find anything wrong with the bearings, and there was nothing interfering with the spinny thing, which is really the impeller. See, I really knew what it was.

Now, here’s one for all you folks who have really neat shops. My work bench is covered with “stuff”. Lots of it. And I can find things when I need them. Diane can’t. So, she doesn’t even bother to look most of the time.

The floor is pretty well covered, too.

Honestly, every horizontal surface has ‘something’ on it so when I want to do anything, I have to move things. Naturally, when I move stuff, it’s to the next place I want to work so I have to move it all over again. I keep telling myself that I’m going to devote a day … OK, two days to a clean up project and remove anything I haven’t used in six years. I’ve actually done that once. Put everything I didn’t need in boxes, then set them aside, admiring my handy work. It was good to have a clear work bench, something I’ve only enjoyed when moving to a different house. Then, years down the road, I need something and guess what? Yup. It was in that box I filled with things I didn’t need. I’m really glad I didn’t give it away.

I have another motivation for cleaning up the shop. The work bench is too high and needs to be lowered. When I was younger, in my 50’s, I was taller and it wasn’t a problem. Now that I’ve begun to shrink I find it more difficult to with my arms sticking straight out in front of me. So, I’m going to lower it to counter top height.

Maybe lower.

To a level I can work at while sitting in a comfortable chair.

Then I’m going to start a new hobby.

It’s called, “Put Stuff Back From Whence It Came”.

I think I’ll get bored with that one pretty quick, like I usually do, so the best option would be to just give all my tools to Jeff and Daniel, then borrow what I need when I need it.

Now, about Panzee. We visited her PCP this afternoon and she was given the sad news that everything looked pretty good but to keep it that way she will need to wear the Cone of Shame for the rest of her life. Since she really doesn’t know a lot of English words, she took the news well. That, and because the doc gave her a treat.

Actually, she’ll only have to wear it for the remainder of the year. By then I suspect she’ll have a bald ring around her neck, and all the moulding around our doors is going to be all nicked and dinged from her running in to them. She used to be careful but she’s discovered the cone will give if you hit things hard enough so she just powers through whatever she hits.

My concern about all that neck jamming is she’s going to need months of chiropractic therapy to fix it. We’ll have to get a referral.

It’s Freezing Out There

Posted on December 7, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

It’s very cold here. No snow. Just cold. Nice clear skies to ensure the nights are colder yet. As I sit here, it’s 14 degrees out back. This morning is was 9 degrees so I made a wise decision to work in the basement. With my table saw, and I’m proud, and happy, to report that I still have all my fingers. I must admit that I am very careful when playing with my saws regardless of what many of you may have come to believe over the years. It’s when I plug them in that things get dicey.

I blame it all this cold on Global Warming. With all those icebergs melting the cold had to go somewhere. After savaging the midwest and eastern portion of the country, it has finally come to visit us. We did have snow the first day, and some of that is still in residence around the house, but the clear skies only serve to provide magnificent sunrises and sunsets. No snow in site. All that stuff is south and east of us in places like Foresthill and Nampa. I know that’s true because neither Kathie nor Steffani fabricate things. At least I don’t think they do, anyway. If they do, they do so with compelling evidence to support their (possibly) false claims. I choose to think they are both honorable and do not fib about such things as I would tend to do.

During the past three days Diane and I have watched at least 5 Christmas movies in our copious free time. I think at least three of them record every day, so we will be in the Christmas spirit for quite some time. I’m gonna have to make more fudge.

Jeff, Gilligan, and Baylee paid us a visit this afternoon and we had a terrific visit. It’s always fun to see them. Heather was home with Tiana and Jerrie Anne who are a little sniffly. We wish them a quick recovery.

It’s currently 2200 and the temperature is 9, again. It’s supposed to drop to 7 before morning. I must remember to bring the hummingbird feeders into the house before going to bed so they’ll be able to eat tomorrow. We still have a bunch of them flittering around the place which amazes me considering how cold it is. This time of year their colors are far more brilliant, too, than in the summer. I wish I was quick enough to get pictures of them, but they always evade me. Though I can’t capture their images with the camera, I have them stuffed away in my little brain for future reference.

I do realize it sounds like I’m whining about the cold weather, but I’m really not. We are very fortunate to have mild weather, all things considered. Many of you have colder days and nights with all the snow that normally comes with it.

I hope you are all safe and warm.

Now I must go to bed and do my best to rid my memory of the worst Honda commercial I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you’ve seen it. The one with Michael Bolton standing on top of a Honda, bellowing? That one.

Snow!

Posted on December 6, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

KC! I was only a day off. Here’s what the tree looks like when it’s getting dressed …

Not the best angle, but I’m still in my jammies and slip on slippers that I didn’t want to slip in. The road was covered when I got up at 0700, but the grass is taking longer. It’s 25 degrees and the flakes are the tiny ones that always seem to come down forever, not amounting to much until you look away for a little while. Kinda like watching a pot boil, you know? Nothing happens until you find something else to do.

One project I have is to yank a pump and motor out of the hot tub and find a place to get one or both fixed. I think the motor is OK and the pump has one of Diane’s hot tub toys stuck in it causing it to make horrible screeching noises. It’s not conducive to a pleasant visit to the tub. Getting it fixed is Diane’s only request for Christmas. So, it will happen. Maybe not today, but soon. Yesterday, when I told her the pump was on my project lest for today she said “but it’s going to be 20 degrees tomorrow. You should have done it today when it was 31.” After analyzing that for a bit, I saw the logic in doing it when the air was warmer, but to my little brain, freezing is freezing any way you look at it and I’m going to be cold no matter what. So, today it is.

As soon as I have another cup of coffee.

On another note, I must admit that I unintentionally lied to Panzee yesterday when I got her in the car for her 3-day visit to her primary care physician. After unwrapping the wounded area, the doctor reapplied a looser wrap so the damaged area would dry out because it was weeping a bit. That meant the cone of shame had to stay, and I told her it was coming off. Now it’s on until Monday afternoon. She didn’t seem to harbor any animosity toward me because of my lie, so I think she’s actually getting used to it and thinks it’s just the way things are going to be from now on … no more scratching her own neck and ears, or licking her tired old feet, or her butt after and eventful trip to the yard. Nope, those days are gone and someone else is going to have to take care of those things. Yup. Someone else.

By the way, KC, how’s that new San Franciscan elbow doing?