family, friends

FT’s road trip, house #2, new fridge

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FT is on the road again, on a trek to Saskatchewan with TF.  So I’m on my own now for two weeks.  Nothing wrong with two old guys rattling across the prairies in a Pontiac.  They went last year, making this a now annual event.

This leads me to my next topic – travel.  I haven’t gone anywhere this year.  I’ve been working on the rental properties and the teardrop trailer, working only half days the past few weeks because of the heat.  Since Floyd’s leg started acting up, I’ve decided to take it easi(er).

The plumbing for the rear suite (formally called the garage) at house #2 is now complete.  It passed inspection just yesterday.  It is still a garage for now as there is still a bay door in it.  But that will soon disappear.  Next task: framing interior walls.

On my way back from trying to pay the Gutter Shop for work to be done at house #2 (turns out they closed down their storefronts, and Google hasn’t caught up to it), I stopped at Starbucks for a cup.  Nice day for a coffee in a shady outdoor area.

I bought a new fridge a week ago, and it finally arrived yesterday.  It’s a Whirlpool 18 cu. ft. freezerless fridge.  The problem is, it has to go back.  The fridge door is not reversible!  I haven’t seen a fridge with no reversible door for ages.  So I called, and they’re sending someone in the next few days to bring it back.  So I ask you, why would they make a fridge that 50% of the population cannot use?

Their explanation is that it is stainless steel.  …  What?  What the heck does that have to do with it?  I thought and have come to the assumption that people who want stainless steel fronts do not want extra holes with plugs in them.  There aren’t many fridges out there without freezers, so pickings are slim.  In the mean time, FT has opted for a normal fridge with freezer at the bottom.

the nuts-and-bolts of life (or, waste naught, want naught)

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As mundane a task this is, I’m sorting through Father’s bizarre method of consumable hardware storage.  He, presumably like most of the population, just threw a machine screw, washer, or not into a coffee container until which time, days, months, or years later, he would fish through the container to find the right size, material, thread type, and grade of hardware.

My way of dealing with his legacy is “fixing” it.  No, I don’t mean that in a terrible way.  Just that, to gain independence from our parents, we have to sort through stuff and make determinations of what they want to keep or abandon of the legacy left to them.  This is not just physical things, but ideals, habits, beliefs, etc.

My belief is that I should walk up to a container of organized smaller containers that are organized further until they become unique and usable items.  I should be able to stretch out my arm, read a label (mach 1/4″ med) (quarter0-inch, medium thread machine screw) and pick the length I want.  In the same bin, I want to pick a nut that is the right size to fit it.

I do not want to sit there in a shop, dump a bucket of rusted shit onto a table, and sort through it all to find that something doesn’t exist.  That’s horse shit.  As Trevan Wong would say, Remember the Seven Ps – Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.

So, this is my statement to the Old Man – thanks for leaving your shit for me to clean up.  I will continue to be my father’s son and do those duties.  The Book itself says to honour your parents.  This is my version of it.

the slow blink

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I have noticed this with almost all cats – certainly all my cats.

Why Cats Do the “Slow Blink” at Their Owners

I’ve used the slow blink thing as a way of communicating with them.  It seemed to show a message of trust, and, with strange cats, their tails usually stop twitching back and forth.  It’s nice to see this level of understanding with cats.  …  There are dog people, bird people, even reptile people – but I’ve always had cats – or, rather, they’ve always had me.

cleanup

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I’m back from Rosedale, BC.  I brought back a 4×8 U-Haul trailer stuffed full of things, like a band saw, Glenn’s memorabilia, Father’s antiques and collectibles, tools & electrical things, books & photo albums, and various other things.

Unfortunately, everything that was in the shop was covered in a layer of rat poop, dust, grease, and dog urine.  Laura had been looking after the property for two years since Father passed away, and no upkeep was really done in the shop.  I’m now in the throws of finding homes for all the stuff I brought back, but much of it had to be taken to a car wash to pressure wash all the poop and grime off.

The garage here is pretty much full of either things I brought back or the teardrop trailer I’m working on.  My room is also full of stuff from the house.  Laura packed all the stuff up into boxes and stored it in the crawl space under the house.  It amounts to about 20 cardboard boxes of stuff (dishes, photos, Glenn’s collectibles, etc.).  So for the next few weeks I’ll be dealing with all this stuff.

on the road … again

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This time I might actually make it!

The last time I attempted to get to BC to deal with Father’s house, I got a message from T stating that QR77 wanted to do a live radio interview with a member of our LC bamboo research team – that’d be me this time – so I returned to Lethbridge to make that happen.  The next time this happens may be in a couple or few weeks.

So I’m on the road again, heading to Rosedale.  I should make it there by tomorrow (Sunday) evening.  L is out of the house now, and so it is currently empty.  I’ll be talking with realtors about the property starting Monday.

The Princess and the Pill

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Mom told me a story.

“I put my foot in my shoe, and I could feel something in there.  I dumped out my shoe, and nothing came out.”  She checked her slipper.  Nothing.  Then she dumped out her sock.  Of all things, a pill came out.  Apparently, Floyd lost a vitamin-D pill a few days ago.  How it landed in her sock, no one will ever know.

However, she apparently hadn’t heard the story, The Princess and the Pea, so my comment, “You’re the Princess,” didn’t make any sense to her.  Floyd thought it was funny though.

21 cards (or Ace to Queen)

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Mom asked me to play cards with her and Floyd last night.  I haven’t done that in ages.  “Sure,” I said.  I put on some music, and Floyd dealt the cards.

The object of the game is to get rid of a stack of 21 cards by playing them, each person in turn, on stacks from A to Q in the middle of the table.  Sometimes we move one, two, or more cards during our turns, but most times we just take turns around the table and accomplish nothing – take a card to start, try to play, and finally discard a card.

We went around and around for 20 minutes without much action.  Mom & Floyd played several cards from their stack of 21.  Mine stood still.  I couldn’t move any.  I pointed this out to them.  “You haven’t moved any?”  “Not yet,” I replied.

I think Floyd took pity on me and played two As on the table.  My turn came around, and I used my first card.  Then another.  Then two As came up.  I used them to start two new stacks and built on them – A, 2, 3 … up to Q.  I kept playing.  Six or seven stacks were started on the table.  The cards just kept lining up, and I played them.

Why make an ongoing letter entry on this?  Not only did I win the game when M&F were miles ahead of me, but this is the first time in my life I used up the entire stack of 21 cards in one hand.