Dog Bites, Rugs, Dentists, & All My Children

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Diane’s had enough of Panzee biting on her tail, and said she’s getting to smell pretty bad. I suggested that it would be OK to take her to the dog groomer because Ozzie gets to go about once a month. Panzee has never been so I think it’s about time. Now, however, we need to wait for her tail to heal where she’s removed all of the hair from about a 4-inch patch. In an attempt to help her out a little, before we realized she’d ripped all the hair out, we gave her Benadryl because the vet said we could. That was information for Ziva, but it works for Panzee, too. That seemed to help a little with the incessant biting and chewing. Then came the odor of blood, which Diane can smell, but I can’t. Luckily, Jeff and his friend, Marc, came by so we had extra hands to find out what was going on. I tried to look, by myself, but Panzee reminded me that she’s got really big teeth and she’s not afraid to use them. There was no touching the tail. No way. It took 220 lbs of Jeff laying on her to keep her from biting me. Instead she nipped at Jeff’s cheek a few times which was just fine with me. She didn’t break the skin so we know it was just warning nips.

With all the manhandling, the tail was accessible so Diane squeezed about half a tube of antibiotic salve on the wound then we put down some gauze and wrapped it up with paper tape. When it was all done it looked like Panzee had a scrunchie on her tail. She didn’t seem to mind, once we let her go, but last night, after everyone went to sleep, she slipped it off the wound so she could lick it. We switched from Benadryl to aspirin yesterday to help her with the pain. That’s OK, too. I checked. Since she relocated the scrunchie we decided to get her to the vet for a professional decision about how to proceed. I’m guessing she’s going to wind up with one of those Elizabethan collars. She’ll hate that.

Yesterday we unrolled the ‘new’ 9×12 carpet Diane got that I don’t think I’ve mentioned. It’s mostly purple and is for the living room. We unrolled it in the garage then she made me vacuum it 15 times – on each side! That’s true. With the good side down to start, I ran the vacuum over the back to knock as much dirt loose as I could. When I folded back one side there was an incredible amount of fine dust on the floor. I vacuumed that up, unfolded the part I’d originally folded, then folded over the other end and repeated the process. I did that 15 times before there was no evidence of dust. I did this in lieu of shampooing it which, it turns out, was a stellar idea because it would have just coalesced into mud, I’m sure. Before the last go round with the vac we replaced the bag. I’m here to tell you that it was super full and weighed more than any vacuum cleaner bag I’ve ever had the pleasure of changing. I bet it was 10 lbs, a testament to our eBay vacuum.

Now the rug is rolled up and stored in Lydia’s room until we decide if we want to move furniture around in the living room again. Right now there’s a large plastic matt on the floor, the kind people put outside their Winnebago’s to keep as much dirt out of the rig as possible. It’s mostly purple, too.

This morning I had my scheduled cleaning appointment at the dentist. After my hygienist, Cheryl, was done I talked with Dr. Grimm and arranged to have one of my teeth pulled. It’s one I never use so I decided to get rid of it. That’s going to happen in September. I figure by then I’ll be able to save enough money to have it done.

At lunch I read my book, on my iPad, like normal, and Diane was watching All My Children on Hulu, on her iPad. She uses headphones while watching All My Children so it won’t annoy me. Then all the sudden she started shouting out random letters, and various cast names which concerned me. I watched for a while and figured out that she was answering questions that were being shown on the screen. She finally realized that I was perplexed with her tourettes-like behavior and started answering the questions silently, occasionally pumping a fist in the air to indicate a correct answer. After that it was much easier to concentrate on my book. After she was done she removed her earphones and asked me a question. I shouted the answer. She smiled, an indication that I wasn’t in trouble for being rude, that she understood that I was merely replicating the manner in which she was spouting her answers to her quiz. Then all was quiet. Lunch was done and it was time for me to get back to work.

At the bathroom, on which I’ve been working forever, I managed to get the new valve installed and one of the four exits connected to the tub filler spout thing. Jennifer was my guiding light, keeping me focused to get that far. I’m using PEX to connect it instead of using copper tubing. PEX is much simpler. There’s no danger of getting burned and I already had the tubing. Just needed to get the connections. Right now I’m three connectors shy of success. ACE didn’t have the ones I thought I needed so I just purchased some that I randomly removed from the racks. Tomorrow I’ll take back the ones I didn’t use and see if they have the ones I really need. I’ll figure it out, one way or another.

Now dinner is done and I’m sitting in the Man Room with Lydia and Jeran who are watching Merlin on Netflix. Diane and Jennifer are at either Safeway or Fred Meyer, cruising the isles, shopping for things to eat.

It’s a good day to be me.

Bathrooms, Rose Poaching, Diabetes, and Dead Chicken

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Greetings from the BRRR – that’s Bathroom Renovation Recovery Room. Daniel and I worked all day yesterday rebuilding a wall that we had to partially dismantle in order to remove the offending tub. I suspect a “real” carpenter could have knocked it out in a couple of hours, but we learn as we go. The end result is a wall much sturdier than the one we started with, before removing the tub. All that remains is for us to get the tub in place and nail it to the wall, put down some roofing felt, cover it with plywood, install the linoleum, install sinks, re-plumb the tub, install ceramic tile, paint walls, cleanup .

It sound like a lot, I admit. At the rate we’re going, I figure we should be done before school starts in September.

I guess I should take some pictures for those of you who would really, really like to know what we’re dealing with. I’m sure it’s the majority of you; maybe 3-4 of you.

A couple of days ago Diane talked her Mom into going over to the neighbor’s house to poach their roses. In their defense, the house is empty and is being prepped for sale. A guy comes around once a week to mow the yard, but he doesn’t do anything with the climbing rose-bush which reaches to the upper deck and spurts out dozens of blossoms. Deer love them. Here’s what it looked like when they made their break for freedom …

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Again, in their defense, they trimmed the roses up very nicely. We had one of those roses on our house when we moved in and it was taking over the upper deck so I cut it down to the ground. It grew back, but I won’t let it get taller than six feet. We argue a lot when I’m mowing around it and I usually wind up with new wounds from pushing it’s arms away as I mow past it. It’s almost like black berry vines that can snag on pretty much anything and leave memorable slashes on arms and legs. I’ve learned it’s not wise to trim anything with thorns while wearing shorts and with bare hands. It’s just not healthy.

Speaking of health … I have another dentist appointment tomorrow morning at 0800. Kinda early for that kind of thing, but I like to get to folks like that early in the day before they meet any mean people and are fresh. When you make afternoon appointments it’s a crapshoot as to what kind of attitude you’ll encounter. Normally, they are all professional to the end of their work days, but I’m not taking a chance of having someone snap when they have my mouth pried open and they’re using extremely sharp tools. For my own wellbeing, I always check the tools for rust before they go to work. This does, of course, please them no end.

Now for the downer … I got the results of my last retinopathy test and learned that I probably have diabetic retinopathy, the leading cause of blindness in the USA. I just learned of this today because we didn’t pick our mail up yesterday. There’s no real danger of me going blind any time soon, as long as I obey the rules and watch my BS level. Diane tells me I’m full of BS most of the time, but I have a meter for that and my BS levels are very low compared to life long diabetics. Those are Type 1 folks. I’m just Type 2. I never get 1st place.

Today was very pleasant. Not too hot, not too cold. We took Diane’s Mom, Jean, to church at 0930 then Diane drove us to Longview, Washington where we had lunch at Sizzler. We always get the all you can eat salad bar because it includes dead chicken. I really like dead chicken. Especially legs. This Sizzler has only legs and arms. They have no idea where the rest of the chicken goes. It’s possible, I suppose, that there’s a rehabilitation center somewhere for legless and armless chickens, but I doubt it. Considering the size of the chicken legs, you’d think they came from either an olympic chicken weight lifter, or really old chickens that just keeled over because they got too fat. They look like they came from turkey’s, but they are definitely chickens. Maybe they’re from the Amazon – they have big things down there. Regardless, they are very tasty and it only takes 3-4 to fill me up. To give you an idea how un-normal that is, I can eat about 12 pieces of a normal size dead chicken. Honest, I can. Ask Diane.

I hope everyone is enjoying whatever type of weather you’re having. If it gets too radical, one way or another, you can always visit Oregon to get refreshed.

Cheers.

Independence Day

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First, I hope everyone has arrived safely at your destination for this annual celebration and that you are close enough to see the pretty fireworks well, but not so close they hurt your ears and eyes. They can do that, you know. We stride for no injuries to, at, and from where ever you’re going.

Us? We’re not going anywhere except our porch. From it we can see tons of fireworks all across the horizon from Portland around to La Center, Washington. Admittedly, the displays are just teeny tiny little pops on the horizon, but we can see them. Then there are always the neighbors who pop off all manner of illegal fireworks in the neighbor hoods below us. So, it will be a festive evening of startling noises, bright flashes, and barking dogs.

Diane’s busy making potato salad for our 3-fer lunch with her Mom. I love it when she cooks pretty much anything. I especially love when she finds a good-looking recipe and ad libs the ingredients because she doesn’t have everything called for. It’s always excellent and a taste treat. My favorites, in case you’re wondering, are her meatloaf, sloppy joe, beef stew, pork chops, steaks, bacon, pancakes, eggs, cheese, milk, mashed potatoes, and crackers. There are more, but I’ve run out of nouns for the moment. All I ever make is chicken and noodles for the mashed potatoes, as you may have seen in previous blogs. Oh, yes! I make omelets, too. Actually, it’s only omelet because I always make one huge one that we cut in half – 6 eggs and two handfuls of grated cheese. Sometimes three.

I got to sleep in this morning because Diane got up with the dogs. They slept in, too. Probably because it was their first night without guests in the past three days. We had Ziva and Daisy while Jeff & Heather took the little girls to the beach for a couple of days. Tiana would have gone, too, but she’s at Kiawanis Camp on Mt. Hood this week. Fun for all.

The guest dogs were good as gold and they got along great with the normal residents, Ozzie and Panzee. They even shared the big dog food bowl and water. The cat ignored them, which was perfect, because the only cats they chase are the ones who run. Breezie knows the rules of survival. Plus, she has claws and they know it.

Yesterday Daniel, Jeran and I worked at getting the floor replaced in the bathroom we tore apart. The girls, Jennifer & Diane, made a trip to Lowe’s at Delta Park in Portland to get a new tub and linoleum for the floor. The next event is to put the tub in place they rearrange the plumbing because the new tub is about 4 inches taller than the old one. So, all the controls and exits need to be moved up the wall. It’s copper pipe so we’ll have fun with that. It requires a torch and I just love to do things that allow me to use my torch.

It’s almost time for my noon nap so I’m going to quit.

Again, everyone stay safe.

Old Toilet Paper Rolls, Shower Nozzles, Urinals, and Other Stuff

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I’ve always had a penchant for endowing inanimate objects with sentient emotions and feelings. I don’t know why, I just do.

This morning I discovered that my toilet paper roll was down to the last few sheets. As I was about to throw it away I wondered what it must be like for them, being stuck on a small cardboard tube for months on end, buried beneath layers and layers of siblings who they know will find the light of day long before they do, and who will find release in the sacred bowl of water, to be recycled into nature. Then, as they bask briefly in the light, perhaps they reconsider and decide that maybe the sacred bowl of water isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s heard rumors, and little toilet paper screams, as it’s siblings were swept away, never to be seen again. Maybe it’s OK to be tossed in the dry recycle bin and spend what little time they have left basking in the light. Consider this when you reach the end of your roll.

Then there’s the shower head … do you think the water coming out of it is from it’s nose or mouth? Either way, do you think it hurts them if you get the water too hot? Does it get lonely if  you don’t use it? When it drips, is it sad and crying, or does it just drip because it’s old?

How about urinals? What do they think about while hanging on tha wall with their mouth wide open just waiting for some guy to come along and, well, you know, relieve himself into the back of it’s throat? What kind of life is that? Probably OK, since that’s their purpose, but do you suppose they gargle in the middle of the night? Maybe that’s what it’s doing when you press the “Please Flush” handle. Maybe it should be “Please Gargle”.

The worst is toilets. I won’t even go there because with the previous thoughts in your head I’m sure you’re imagining all kinds of things right now. I’ll just say that they at least have the capability, with help, to close their mouths once in a while. That’s got to be at least a little bit of relief.

I explained to Diane what this was going to be about and she wasn’t pleased so I’m sure I’ll hear about this.

Today I put the carburetor back on the truck and it started without blowing up so I won’t have to go back to the doctor right away. It’s only bolted down with three bolts for reasons explained yesterday. It may remain that way for the rest of it’s life. After I did that I reattached the gas tank to the old D22 and am taking a break from the 90 degree heat before connecting the gas lines. When that’s done I’ll go get some gas and dump it in the main tank and see what I can do about getting it to start.

Sure hope it doesn’t blow up. If it does I’ll probably have to go back to the doctor anyway. Diane will insist.

Softball, Ospreys, and a Quadrajet Carburetor

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The fun-filled weekend is over and we made it through another Monday. Unlike before I retired, Mondays are perfectly OK with me. I can deal with them much better now. Monday’s are actually just like Sundays. We just don’t go to church.

I needed to add an addendum to the rant from yesterday where I cried that river about bad calls, and such. It’s mostly about Lydia and Jennifer who, after all that activity, made it back to town just in time to assume their 12 hour shift at the fireworks stand that is sponsoring the high school girls soccer team. Lydia is playing when she starts high school next year. Wow! High School. Wow! Jeran’s in the 8th grade. Wow! Cedric is a sophomore. Wow! He’s 16 and doesn’t care if he drives or not! Wow!

The deal with the fireworks stand is that it must be ‘manned’, or ‘womaned’, 24 hours a day for security purposes. So, that’s where Lydia & Jennifer spent last night, from 9pm on. For both of them, the fun didn’t end until this afternoon, after VBS at their church. Jennifer teaches and Lydia is a counselor for what they call Pacific Camp. I think that’s correct. I’ll be alerted if it isn’t. For sure. Needless to say, they were both very tired this afternoon. Lydia fell asleep while laying on the floor painting her nails.

While at the games in Albany, we spied a nest on top of a couple of light poles for the field. In this one I caught an Osprey female and at least two youngsters. Before it was brought to my attention, the female flew in with a fish for the little raptors. They eat well from the nearby Willamette River.

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If you’ve heard about the rifles raffled off for the St. Helens softball program, you might enjoy is this one …

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For the tournament, the girls were allowed to put whatever they wanted on their jerseys. This is Abby, and her initials are AR. Yes, it was intentional on her part to point out the AR-15 association. I asked. Kinda cool, I thought. Lydia put “Walnut” on hers because that’s one of her nicknames. Another girl had “Peanut” because she’s the smallest on the team. Some actually used their real names, too. They had fun with it.

Today I decided to get a carburetor kit for the pickup’s Rochester Quadrajet. It’s been around a while and I thought putting some new parts and gaskets in it might perk it up a little.

So, I disconnected all the hoses, linkage, and wires then went to remove the four mounting bolts. I discovered that three of them were only about finger tight, and the other one broke off just about flush with the intake manifold. It was a “Hmmmmmm” moment for me and caused me to sit and mull things over for a while before I figured a course of action. For sure I needed a bolt extractor tool, which I found at ACE. I also needed a part for the PT to eliminate a rattle in the rear. I got that at Carquest along with the carb tune up kit.

back at the pickup, I drilled out the center of the broken bolt, per instructions, then hammered the extractor into the hole. When I turned it, after soaking it with liquid wrench, the extractor broke off. Fortunately, I had another one, just a bit bigger, so I enlarged the hole hammered in the new one. I hammered it in really good, to the point where my 1/4 socket wouldn’t fit because I’d flattened the top. So, I meticulously filed the offending flare off the top to the point where I could just feel the socket catch the corners. Then I hammered the socket onto the extractor.

When I finally got to the point where I could work the ratchet, the bigger extractor also broke. The first broken extractor came out of the hole pretty easily the first time, but not the second time. It’s sticking above the intake manifold about a 1/4″. I figure that since the broken bolt was the only thing holding the carb in place before I started this evolution, that I could just eliminate that offending hole and secure the other three. Then it would be three times as secure before I started. So, I’m not too worried about the broken bolt at this point.

Thinking I would move along with the project, I took the carburetor out back and took all the screws out of the top that held it together. Then I tried to get it apart. I couldn’t do it. I suppose with a hammer and my screwdriver I could have accomplished that seemingly simple task, but I just wasn’t up to it. Whoever put it together last time must have glued everything together.

I’m to the point now that I think, considering how things went, that I could just set the carb on the engine and it would work just fine without any of those bolts that hold it together and hold it down. Maybe I’ll try that just for fun to see what happens. Maybe not.

At this point, the carb is back together and I’m just going to put it back on after I figure out what to do about the broken extractor. Maybe I’ll get my torch out to heat it up and see what happens. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I need to burn all the gas off the top of the engine that I spilled when disconnecting the fuel line anyway.

I’ll let you know how that goes. Maybe from the hospital.

Good thing I’m insured, huh?

Chaos for Khaos

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OK, team. The day started out just great with an 11-2 win at the 10am game. Then a short break before beginning their sixth game of this weekend at noon. I know, for some of the hardcore softball Mom’s and Dad’s out there, that doesn’t sound too tough, but by noon it was around 91 degrees and the second team they played today had only played 3 games all weekend. Interesting.

I’ll just give you a few pictures so you can get an idea of how the second game went from the perspective of the umpires.

Abby stealing second.

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Ball bobbled just before Abby hit the bag.

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Base ump called her out and told our coach that she slid too early.

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What does that even mean. Is that really a rule? These pictures covered about 1 second of time in that game.

Another really bad judgement call was by the home plate ump. It was a passed ball for the catcher so our runner was sent home from third. The catcher got the ball to the pitcher about the same time our runner slid and collided with the pitcher. The pitchers mitt was on the ground under our runner and the ball came out of her glove. This was visible to everyone on our team, but not the ump who was on the other side of the play. He stood there for about five seconds, without moving around to see what was going on, enough time for the pitcher to pick the ball up and bring her mitt out for the ump who then called our runner out. That was about the fifth inning and would have given us a 2-0 lead.

There was an uproar from everyone on our side which resulted in admonishment from the home plate umpire that we weren’t allowed to question his calls. Even bad ones, apparently.

The game went to the bottom of the seventh inning where the opposing team scored two runs and the game was over, 2-1.

Now that I’ve said all that, ensuring that you just KNOW I’m a whinnie loser, let me add this. Our girls team is not a tournament team. They are a composite group of selected players from two different recreation teams in St. Helens. All the other teams who played this weekend are tournament teams and our girls beat three of them quite handily. They held the last team, an all-star team, scoreless for 6 innings.

I understand that the umps can only call what they see, but sometimes you just have to wonder if there isn’t a little bias going on. A little lack of effort to “get it right.” Know what I mean. Of course, the same is true for all sports where judgement calls can sway the course of a game.

Gotta quit now. Sorry for ranting. Please forgive me. The girls played just great and we’re proud of them. An, honestly, had those bad calls been against the other team, I would have honestly commented on decision. It wouldn’t have changed anything for them, just as it didn’t for our girls.

Team Khaos in Albany

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Today was brutal. Both for the girls on Team Khaos and for those who came to watch. The first game was at noon, right about when the temperature hit 112 degrees, then continued through to evening with the last game ending about 9:30 pm. They played four games. Won the first, then lost the second which put them into the losers bracket. Then they lost the third and won the fourth. Weird brackets. With the final win they continue playing tomorrow starting at 10:00 am. Even with the two loses they have a chance to win the whole thing with four wins tomorrow. The two losses today were in the heat of the day and the girls were just drained. The first three games were back-to-back-to-back – 15 minutes between games that lasted an hour and 45 minutes each.

After the third game they got a short break during which they ate, finally, then had a chance to play in the pool and unwind a little. The result was astounding as they ripped the last team 9-0. So, they are going into tomorrow with a positive attitude that could yield results a lot different from today’s.

Daniel and I kept the scoreboard current during the first three games. It was in the outfield and totally in the sun. So, I’m burned nicely, although Dan did the lion’s share of the work.

It’s 10:30 pm and time for bed so I’m quitting.

Oh … it wasn’t really 112 degrees. Just felt like it. I think it was more like 90 or so, but that’s hot to someone who’s really comfortable at 60 degrees. Know what I mean?

Softball, I-5, Heat, and Albany

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So, here we are in Albany, Oregon. That’s about 100 miles south of St. Helens. Normally that equates to about a 2 hour drive on the freeway. Then, consider that today is Friday,  next week is 4th of July, our trip south was directly through the heart of Portland, and everyone in town was hell-bent on getting out of town. Oh, ya. We didn’t leave home until after 3 pm, ensuring we would hit the big city at rush hour.

Now, I know you folks on the East Coast can’t imagine that traffic through Portland could possibly be as bad as, say, Boston, or Hartford, but it can. Really, it can. Rush hour in every large city is the same, the world over. Some cities just have more lanes of it. Portland only has 4 lanes each way, not as big as many cities, but congested just the same. I think there are a special breed of people who are bred specifically to make everyone else’s life in a traffic jam just a little more miserable, or to add that little element of excitement making those around them wonder if this is the day they’re going to die.

For me it was not a problem because I don’t have to contend with those drivers, or get caught up in the moment when someone makes a foolish pass, or cuts me off, because I’m not driving. Diane won’t let me, as many of you know. I’m a professional passenger everywhere I  go, unless it’s down the hill from home to ACE and back. Maybe a trip to Warren for something, but no long trips. That’s fine by me. Because of my diminished status, I get to navigate and just sit in my seat. I’m pretty good at both of those, except when I get my arm in front of the right side rear view mirror at the exact moment Diane wants to look at it.

Thankfully, the worst traffic was heading North on I-5, so we found the trip better than we thought it would be. Still, the two-hour trip took us about 2.5 hours. Not a bad delay.

The temperature, in case you’re wondering, made it up to 94 as we left Portland, but the weather folks will only claim 85. Silly. They only count the temperatures at airports, not on the freeways.  Does that make sense? I think not. In Portland’s case, the airport is right next to the Columbia River so it’s always going to be cooler there. Silly.

We’re in Albany, as you may recall, because Lydia is playing in the ASA state tournament for 14U teams. We arrived at our Super 8 Motel hungry, so checked in and headed directly out for dinner at Sizzler. It wasn’t the best dinner we’ve ever had, but not the worst, either. Jennifer, however, suffered from the two bites of ice cream she had. Lactose intolerance is a terrible affliction. Diane has it, too. Not fun.

Once back at the motel, Diane and Jennifer decided it was time to head for K-Mart for some needed items. The kids were playing in the pool so I went down to watch and enjoy some fresh air for a while. Sounded good at the time. The pool, however, is in an open patio which is surrounded by two wings of the motel. The result is a venue with sound reflective abilities that rival some really nice music halls. In this case, however, the source of audio wasn’t music, but the excited laughter of five kids playing Marco Polo. I only knew four of them so attempted to keep my corrective nature in check, letting them play and make noise. It was just fine for about an hour, then an entire herd of small, softball playing girls descended on the pool causing the noise level to increase dramatically. I can only equate it to what it must have been like to sit in front of one of those huge speakers at a Def Leopard concert. The main difference between the two was that I was experiencing the treble cleft far more than the bass cleft. Very skreechadelic, as Austin might say

At last count there were about 25 kids in the pool so no one was really swimming – there wasn’t enough room for anyone to attain a prone position. They all had to stand upright.

There was a negative aspect to yesterday’s trip that was brought to our attention around 9:30pm. I actually had it all documented, herein, then lost it when the WI-FI signal just “went away” making it impossible for the blog to auto save the data. Sad, but true. So, I’m going to have to rely on my notoriously bad memory for what happened.

It’s simple, really. After battling our way south to Albany, then digging in near the freeway, it was discovered Lydia was missing her sports bag containing all the things she will need today in order to fulfill her obligation to the team. No shoes, no glove, no helmet, no bat, no nothing. The bag containing those essential items normally resides in the back of the Walters’ SUV. That’s because 99.9% of the time someone driving that SUV takes Lydia to and from practice.

Except the last practice when the family SUV wasn’t available and Lydia got a ride with someone else. She took her bag to her room, and there it sat. All the way back in St. Helens.

So, as it was getting dark, Daniel headed north to retrieve the bag. The plan was for him to secure the bag, sleep at home, and return this morning in time for the first game at noon. We could only hope the hoards going north had dwindled to a navigable size so the trip was a reasonably easy one for him. As we were leaving Portland yesterday, the north bound jam was taking drivers at least a couple of hours to transit the 18 miles from Tigard to the Washington border Interstate Bridge. That’s really not unusual for that trip because people who live in Washington and work in Oregon do that every day. It was just compounded by the extra people heading north for cooler air.

Now it’s 10:15 Saturday morning. Diane are sitting next to the pool while the boys play in the pool and the hot tub. We’ve not heard from Daniel yet so don’t know his status. He was to meet Jennifer and Lydia at Bryant Park for the first game. Diane and I have 1.5 hours remaining to enjoy the shade before we must extricate ourselves and head for the park. We have umbrellas, so we’ll survive.

Just heard from Jennifer that Daniel made it back OK with the necessary equipment.

Now I’m stopping.

Painting, Gluing, Brakes, and Weeds

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I’ve almost got Diane’s bathroom finished. As many of you know, it’s one of the projects I’ve been working on for the past 4 years, between other emergent projects that demand attention. Now all that’s left to do is apply a bit of touch-up paint and it’s done. I thought about sneaking into the room this morning to do that but figured I better wait until Diane is alert enough to realize there’s wet paint in there.

Yesterday, while various parts of the bathroom were drying from whatever kind of adhesive and/or paint I had applied, I did a brake job on Dan & Jen’s SUV. Yes, I can actually do stuff like that once in a while. Jeran helped me. It was a simple matter of replacing the front disc brake pads. Les Schwab wanted around $300 but I did it for $40. The difference is, Les Schwab insists on replacing perfectly good calipers so they can guarantee the work. Since I don’t guarantee anything, I didn’t have to do that. With Jeran’s help the entire process only took about an hour and the only injury I received was when I moved the work light and burned my arm. Apparently it gets really hot.

Then, after all that work, Diane made me go outside and pull weeds until I could barely stand. She didn’t make me do it, but seeing her out there all alone, pulling up grass, tugged at my little heart-strings making it necessary to participate. I’ve been wanting to hack down all the black berry bushes threatening to overrun the house, but just haven’t had time. Today I made time. My reward for the effort is scratched arms which made their presence known when I showered and rubbed soap in the wounds. That works almost as good as Old Spice for finding injuries.

At this moment in time I’m waiting for 0900 to roll around so I can go have coffee with the ‘guys’. After that we’re going to go repair a crack in the church parking lot that sprouted weeds. Since I still have two hours to go, I think I’ll just read my book for a while. I’ll set an alarm, too, because I know I’m going to fall asleep. I always do this early in the morning.