37 degrees

Today was hot.  It reached up to 37 degrees today.

When I left work today, the van said “22”.  I knew that must have been in the shade.  On the drive home, I watched the reading quickly go up and stop at 37.

heart scare

I woke up at 3:30am to a fire alarm.

Okay, so it wasn’t a fire alarm but, rather, an alarm clock.  It was F‘s.  He’d had it for several years but no longer wanted it.  It’s one of those folding travel clocks, wind-up, of course.  Because I collect old pre-antique things (vintage, you might say), it was a nice addition to my collection of clocks and other such devices.  I had no idea I had set it for 3:30am.

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

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.

inside looking out

If I were a wild animal, I don’t think I’d want to be in an enclosed area.  But in Parkbridge, deer come in in the morning and leave at the evening.  They spend their days meandering around the park, eating what they can, and sleeping the rest of the time.

I saw this one on the back way home from shopping.  We just stood there looking at each other.  We, as people, personify various animals.  The deer is obviously thinking, “Why is that guy outside of the enclosure?  Doesn’t he know the dangers?”

Reversing that, would the deer be personifying (or, rather, deerifying) me?  The human is obviously thinking, “It’s too bad that fence is there.  I’d like to kill that deer and eat it.”

abandoned clothes

Did someone on the way to Wal-Mart just say to themselves, “I don’t think I want pants today,”?  I mean, what the heck?  What a strange thing to see on the side of a street.

Maybe it blew off someone’s clothesline?  But people don’t have clotheslines anymore.

Apparently, they don’t need pants, either.