Ides of January?
Packing for QuartzFest at Mile99. Dump and Fill. Main engine
start. Build air. A few more odds and ends and tomorrow at
the Food Bank. All I have to do is remember the sugar bowl
and the telly antenna.
Imbolc
What conventional tea do you get at a convent?
I'm trying to remember from whence I bought my previous
batch of Triple Leaf Relaxing Tea when that question popped
into mind...
Another thing that came to mind this morning was your
determination to simplify. Cut down on the junk. Divest.
Actually that came to mind yesterday whilst I was standing
at the fleece market and paying for the two silver cups. I
don't really need these, said I to my Self. Yes,
but you do really want them, the devil echoed.
So this morning I commenced to compose a list. In mind, mind
you, not on paper; leave no evidence on leafs blowing in the
wind that might come round to taunt or haunt. All the things
I have not used in a year? Some things I've not even touched
in a year. Some I've not even thought about for longer than
a year. They all have to go. Then there is my horror-scope
this morning: "Your dreams inspire you to set lofty goals
today..." But then the seer gives me a way out with "... yet
the strength of your convictions counteracts any
discouragement that may surface if you don't accomplish
everything..." With that I suppose I may as well get
started. But first a cup of tea and a little more list
making... Tea? Oh yes, What tea in a nunnery? Why, Constant
Convent of course.
Another thing to think about would be Painting The Bus. Mike
sent some ideas on that idea.
All went well with the getting ready, right up to start the
motor one more time just to be sure. Didn't start.
RRRrrr-Rrrr-rrr-clunk...
SKP Escapade
Busy hectic draining expensive exciting encouraging
enlightning and educational are all a few of the words I
would employ to describe this past week at the 55th SKPade.
Emotional too at the closing ceremony which evoked a
familial bonding. Some 850 rigs arrived for the week at the
Pima County Fairgrounds indicating on the order of 1600 or
so attendees. Plus a few hundred day visitors including
quite a few members of the general public. Over all as many
as 2000 including staff and fair ground employees.
Lots to do. For me this whole week was a Bucket List Item in
participation, promise, expense. While I found most of the
seminars to be targeted at a level that did not interest me,
I did find some of them informative if only to learn what
some people don't know.
I spent more of my time volunteering. Helping out with the
Special Event Ham Station W7E, driving shuttle cart to carry
attendees to and fro between events and far flung camping,
assisting “Too Crazy Ladies” to close shop and hitch up for
departure... And of course meeting other participants,
especially other Hams. There were some 35 check-ins at the
morning radio nets and about that many at the Show&Tell
Ham Radio Lunch. Now I need a week to clean up after.
But first there is Pi Day. This one "The
Pi Day of the Century" to be perzact. What do you make
of that? 3.141592659...
Works out to just about Pi for breakfast. Or brunch. On the
14 of March 2015 at 9:26. We could have done it again in the
evening; a bedtime snack. But there was no pie left by then.
Pretty much a thousand dollar week. And I've only just
scratched the surface of necessary repairs to the front end
of The Cat Drag'd Inn. Nita had a hip replacement; Rosemary
had two finger knuckles replaced. The Cat Drag'd Inn needs
her ball joints replaced but despite being almost as old as
me she doesn't quite qualify for Medicare. But you can help
make up for the lack of socialised auto repair. See the link
to PayPal in the fine print right at the top of Letter List on
the index page.
Back to Tonopah. Mike and I spent a couple of nights at Train
Spotter Hill, along the tracks between Gila Bend and
Maricopa, watching trains, counting cars, picking up trash,
finding geocaches, and making a pie.
Back to Tonopah, to a pile of mail, and the same ruts from
whence I left. Paul says Welcome Home. Thank you Paul.
Hurricane Hazel is beside herself with the excitement of
getting back to her social work amongst the avian and rodent
communities.
CleanUp is Taking Longer Than a Week.
Going on a fortnight and I've yet to do the laundry. I did
manage the dishes but it was a case of do them or eat off
paper towels.
Food Bank
Dandy. Productive day at Food Bank. Fixed a few things.
Salvaged a few things. Tossed a lot of junk to the
scavengers. There is a certain perverse power pleasure in
having such awesome responsibility. It grieves me to throw
away stuff that would be saleable if only I had the parts to
effect repair. But the parts cost more than the Thrift Store
would realise from the sale of the device/appliance. And
there is no place here to store parts so I canna even
scavenge from one against the likelihood of repairing
another later. Not to mention that there are always too many
choices. Belts for vacuums for instance. Usually it is the
belt that is broken that drives the spendthrift incompetent
to donate the vacuum in the first place. And televisions.
Lose the remote--go buy a new telly. What am I supposed to
with a telly that has no remote?
Yesterday there was a TiVo box donated. No remote. You canna
even turn the box on without the remote. Not to mention that
the box is useless without a contract. And if you take out a
contract you get a new box anyhow. Best I could do was
salvage the hard drive. The rest goes to the scrapper. And
the hard drive, while a standard 40GB PATA [not much use in
this day of 20-30GB operating systems] is of some weird
format that makes the content invisible to a normal
computer. Probly end up removing the platters and making sun
chimes.
A perfectly nice, good quality blender/food processor was
donated. Stupid microprocessor control... Most likely failed
SCR. Who needs ten speeds in the first place? Most people
don't use all the speed choices on their bicycle never mind
on their blender! One speed. Two at the most. I could have
made the blender work. If'n it were mine I would have put in
a simple toggle switch: On/Off. Done. Useful. No... this one
got tossed in the tip.
I did manage to repair one upright vacuum yesterday. Hair
ball clogging the hose where it bends between the floor part
and the upright part. No suction. Messy job, all that dust
and hair. 150$ vacuum new might fetch 10 or 20 in the thrift
store.
But right about then stupidity struck. Packing away tools
and the day's haul of food I had to put some stuff in the
cooler to keep it frozen. Atop the cooler was a cat-carrier
sized shopping bag containing a several years collection of
Maine Public Radio tote bags along with a few others from
different sources. I put them on the roof of the truck so I
could get at the cooler. A little voice I often ignore said:
Don't do that... And I ignored it this time too.
A few miles up the road to Fry's Market and I reached behind
the passenger seat for my sack of tote bags. Not to be
found. I just knew where they were. I headed back and on the
way made a hasty call to the food bank to ask someone to go
look in the street. No sign of my tote bag collection.
Days later I wrote to Maine Public Broadcasting Network:
“Several times over the past umpteen years I have donated to
MPBN and received a tote bag in return. Thank you very much.
They have been most useful over the years. Now they are
gone. The natural ones with Maine Public Radio emblazoned on
the side, the black ones with the colourful MPBN logo... All
gone but the green one with the zippered side pocket which
fortunately was elsewhere the day stupidity ruled.
“I don't listen to MPBN from here in AridZona, DX is not
much use in FM radio, but I still donate annually just
because on occasion I catch Dick Estell on some other
channel and because one of these days I Shall Return. So...
I miss my MPBN tote bags very much. How much of a donation
will it take now to replace at least two MPBN tote bags?”
And surprise of surprises: Bill McCue, Membership
Specialist, MPBN, wrote back: “...I'm also going to send
another popular tote bag to you because your email warmed my
soul on this frigid Maine morning. Please accept the tote
bags as a token of our appreciation for your continued
membership.....and of course - you know we'll be looking for
money again in the future!”
I have reservations for the occasion at The
Dead Roach Ranch in Driggs IDaho. Just on the north
side of town. My safe
eclipse viewing gadgets arrived in the mail yesterday.
Today is not too early to make reservations if you want to
ride along on this expedition. Needless to say I canna make
much of an itinerary until I know who is going to ride with
me. Chicken and Egg sort of thing, eh...
April Fools?
I am fascinated and dismayed how I am in receipt of more
greetings on and about this date from my extended family of
Pen Friends, Hams and RVers than from my kith and kin. But
then I have never been all that good about sending greetings
to others, near or extended, so perhaps this is my karma.
TinyTruck had a run in with some bees a few days ago. Headed
eastbound on Indian School Road. A car passed me going the
other way and right behind it there was a dark cloud coming
at me, as if clots of mud were being thrown off its wheels.
I ducked, a splattering thudding rattled on my windscreen.
Bees! A hundred at least I counted later the splat marks as
I cleaned the debris.
Happy Easter Sunrise here right about now. A little cool for
a pagan dance around the henge but warm enough inside.
Perhaps at sunset 'twill be warm enough for a reprise.
For this occasion I'm mostly Ok. My PSA and my weight are
back down where they belong. I've had to give up my daily
ale and I fast for three days once or twice a month (at
least I like to believe I do anyhow...) to get the weight
down. PSA meds are 90$ a month but I pay only about
eight-five cents between insurance and "extra help".
Somebody else's taxes make up the rest.
But the side effects of the meds are worse than the original
problem. Itchy eyes, runny nose, nose bleeds. I find my self
taking extra naps. Hurricane Hazel is busy with her
social work among the avian and rodent communities. She
specialises in population control and various track and
field fitness programmes. She is also showing me how to take
naps almost anywhere. No bed required.
Learning to Fly a QuadCopter...Thanks Jon!
First
Cross-Country flight Ends at The Bar
Happy Big Wind Day
Yesterday was Roadside CleanUp with the Friends of Saddle
Mountain. Fascinating... Amazing what some folks toss from
their cars along the road. One item of interest this time
was three brand new still in the wrapper "Lifestyle"
appliances and one that was named after an ancient wooden
horse. The usual clutter of aluminium cans and brown glass
bottles make up most of the weight. The cans we collect in a
separate bag--they're worth a few cents each at the scrap
yard. Scraps of tyre, and pizza boxes from the nearby truck
stop, are other high-count items. The heaviest item this
time was an industrial yellow "chain hook" with one link to
a six inch by 3/4 eye bolt. Another item of interest was a
gasket set and invoice for a rebuilt filter assembly
destined for the nearby power plant. (Prob'ly tossed with
the beer bottles and pizza box... Might explain why they
have been off line recently.)
12th
April each year is observed as Big Wind Day- the day
when the highest wind speed ever was recorded at 231 miles
per hour by the staff of Mount Washington Observatory. So
this day has been a holiday ever since. Sources say that in
1996, Australia recorded a non-tornadic wind of speed 408
km/h but Mount
Washington has historical precedence. So there! 231
/is/ bigger than 408.
This is also National Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day. And
"Drop Everything And Read" day? Read this: Jon Lingel,
Observer on Duty at the Mount Washington Observatory on this
day in 1970, was the first person to my knowledge to make a
big deal observance of this affair. Party-Party-Party was
his motto and we didn't have to look far (even tho the
visibility was often at least 90 miles) for a reason to
celebrate something.
A Taxing Day
Last night there were FIVE javalina in the yard. Trampled my
lily, upset the birdbath, left foot prints (and right ones
too) all over the place. FIVE! Three pig ones and two
littl'uns. The whole fam damily. I went out twice and threw
rocks. Tried to use my sling shot but couldn't hold that and
a flashlight at the same time. I'll try strapping the light
to my arm...
Prob'ly more than one list but this lists about sixty of
them from QNA to QTR. But none concern what one might be
wearing. TXTrs have shorthand for NIFOC and I have
used NIFOR when running RTTY on Field Day. But I think the
time is nigh that we have something in keeping with the
tradition of Q-Signals. A Q-code to equal NIFOR. I propose
QNK to mean the same as NIFOR; or QSR if you want to add a
little Spanish accent. Needless to say if you send a
QuestionMark following the QSR it would be the same as
asking: Are you?
Yesterday at the
Food Bank where I volunteer--fixing donated things for
sale in the Thrift Store--the manager was extolling my
wizardry to a couple of visiting benefactors. At one point
near the end of her laud I stood up from my work to take a
bow and said to one of the visitors: Quick! Pat me on the
back before everyone forgets why... Got some pats and some
chuckles...
MayDay MayDay...
TinyTruck is in want of new lower ball joints. L.F. tyre is
seriously worn from misalignment. Bus still waiting on parts
for her problem. Filling fell out of my tooth #12 and will
cost several days of pain and angui$h to replace. But that
will be better than the top-of-the-line PO$H treatment of
the preferred plan.
May The Fourth Be With You
This is
International Star Wars Day. Anyone for a marathon
viewing of the double trilogy? Towel Day
is up next. May 25th. Grab your towel and hitch a ride. But
first...
Revenge of The Sixth
All my problems pale next to the affair with my sister
Susan--her birthday is the day after mine. Following in the
footsteps of the brother gone before her, my sister Susan
went into hospice care this week. I talked to her yesterday.
Doped to the hilt, she is feeling little pain. Hard to
understand her speech--slurred, random, missing words. I
thot I'd get started early to spread the grief around a bit.
I didn't miss the two brothers who died this past year, we
never were all that close; but I am going to miss this
sister. Her doctor doubts she will see another Mother's Day.
The older I get the more dead people I know.
|
Greetings Pen
Friends, Virtual Travellers: 
I do not know what I may appear to
the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy
playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then
finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary,
whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before
me. 
