Can you spot the difference?
The cover never did close right. Now I know why. So much for quality control.
In investigating the crawl space under the house, F and I stopped to talk about the rat’s nest of wires and disused electrical junk that is (or was) our communications box. Is this not the sloppiest bit of work you’ve seen?
Holy cow. The world is being turned upside-down. Now Heinz wants to even out the numbers thing on hot dogs.
It’s about time, I say. The hot dog-eating-world has put up with injustice long enough. I personally think they should be sold by the dozen as that has how things have always been done! Dammit!
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.
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.
I thought Trump vs Clinton four years ago was huge. Now lots of us are watching the Biden vs Trump election State-side. So far, this is what it is (at 1pm MST).
I don’t usually tell my political view to anyone except in meaningless idle talk. But, seriously, there are just a few presidents as controversial as Trump – beyond even George W Bush, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, or even Harry S Truman. Trump is second only to George W Bush for being a horse’s ass, in my humble view.
It’s a right race between the two, Biden & Trump. The world is in for more rocky roads ahead if Trump gets in again. I don’t so much like Biden as much as I dislike Trump, but I do share Biden’s green ideas. Coming from an Albertan in a world of $35 a barrel oil, this likely won’t go over well, but if there is ever a time for change, it is now.
In working with wood, I bought N95 masks several years ago. They were, after all, the best ones one could buy. So shopping at Rona a week ago, they only had regular dust masks. I asked why they didn’t have N95 masks on the shelves yet. It’s been a year since the newest coronavirus had been discovered. Couldn’t the supply chain have ramped up supply for the demand by now?
Oh my goodness. I read various articles that pop up on by Firefox browser start page. They catch my eye, and off I go into the never-never land of short reads. I enjoy most of them, and some of them I just abandon half-way through. However, there is one that I just have to comment on.
It seems to me that the writer (writer?) of this article has lost his / her mind. At least with navel-gazers, they’re picking apart imaginary parts of their own selves. But this writer … <sigh> Have we nothing more to fix these days without trying to fix imaginary problems? Has this writer been in quarantine too long?