About 5:00Am I was awakened by the rolling thunderclap and the sound of huge raindrops slapping down on the roof – and our roof is well insulated and nearly soundproof. She was up already, watching the approaching sound-and-light show, up and awake since much earlier having gone to bed at 6:00PM. The large raindrops hit with the force of snow, with a cold splat – and then disappeared. I should check the rain-barrels.
Actually not a tomahawk, but Old NFO’s post on Stabby Things got me to dig this out of the bug-out bags. I need to put a keener edge on it to surprise the Jihadis, now that we have activity here such as in Texas.
My youngest nephew (sister’s kid) got married Saturday. We drove Dad and Mom (with her 02 bottle-kit) in the truck, up to the ceremony at Quail Hollow in the Santa Cruz mountains. Dad as usual preformed the ceremony – and he did well for a 90-yr old, no teleprompter needed and a good strong voice.
Several of the Nephew’s other-side failed to attend – they have mental problems or something – but many did, and the bride’s family was real hoot especially grandma Juanita and her 2nd. husband who drove up from Yuma. I like them. The location by the small lake (pond) was serene, with some kind of Scottish-y drum-and-strum music playing. If they had bagpipes later I missed it because it got cold and dark too soon and we had to head down the hill.
New mattresses (soft) are on order to be delivered to my Parents’ home, so that family can stay-over without the excruciating pain of a rock-hard bed. The upstairs is still stuffy-hot since Dad never installed the attic fan.
Had dinner Friday with a friend who is still surviving and suffering at The Big Private University. In just two years local conditions in Googleopolis seemed to have more rapidly deteriorated – from our perspective. The downtown nightlife scene was like a Star Wars movie mixed with Burning Man. The noise level was high and the crowd was thick and boisterous, at the same time everyone (except us) stared urgently at handhelds. There’s some weird kind of psychic-hemispheric division taking place between the cerebellums there. We are both sooo glad we moved – and not a moment too soon – like the boiled-frog analogy, almost too late. We escaped Sunday in a 2-hour 80mph blitz-drive and slept soundly in our own home last night. Yay!
Marko’s book came in the mail Sunday on a special delivery from Amazon, but it took me until Monday to crack the cover. It’s a honkin’ good read, lots of the characters I seem to know already. I am at chapter 23 and stayed up past my usual bedtime to get there – it’s a lot of fun and I can’t wait to see/read what happens next – and what the next book will be like.
Awoke at 3>04 AM to the sound of heavy rain outside, yay! This will fill the rain barrels again, which will provide another mid-week drenching to the water-stressed trees and plants.
Since removing the rocks from all around the base of both our redwood tree and the blue spruce, the additional water has been a boon. The blotchy brown spots on the Sequoia sempervirens “foliage” have reduced in size and quantity, while the green tips on the spruce have have flourished. It’s gotta help these major flora that have been drought-stressed for the past five years and on a water-deprivation cycle.
Despite the perpetual bright skies, Winter is not yet done with us. On the opening day of Trout Season visitors and travelers to the Sierras were met with a chilly dusting of snow and we are expected to get another inch of rain tonight into Saturday filling our rain-barrels.
(To the tune of Tim McGraw’s “Indian Outlaw”)
A raggedy man-woman shuffling approaches the mic, lights dim, music starts:
It was back in the 70’s
Way out in the desert, see –
When a bright light came over me,
I had an alien autopsy.
They turned on the tractor-beam,
They took me up in the ship,
It was such a trip,
I remem-ber everything.
They used the mind-control,
I told them everything I know.
They gave me the anal probe,
And I forget the rest.
Now here I am in Vegas,
Begging change from strangers,
Because these memories
Won’t leave me alone.
Cuz way back in the 70’s,
Out in the desert, see –
‘Had a light come over me,
I had an alien autopsy…
lights dim, spot fades.
Copyright © 2015 Cheesey-Jalapeno Tamale Productions
Just in case you need an ear-worm here’s the 1994 droopy-moustachioed version – he’s since updated his look quite a bit but for some reason is Pro-Obama? This song alone should scuttle his political ambitions. Weird cat, son of baseball famer Tug McGraw…
The wife’s old car needed to get tested by the Cal-State Regulatory Bozos of the DMV and I had an issue with the truck, so in the cold morning mist we drove over to Ponderosa Auto Express. Surprise, the Bay Area coastal fog had made an unwelcome and damp intrusion up into our latitude, drawn by the cold storm in the mountains high above, and our house was surrounded by a cloud of the cold crud.
The old BMW barely passed the State Politburo’s Number-Nazis, so she’ll be looking for a more reasonable vehicle – like the Toyota Tacoma she’s always wanted.
Raison d’être for the truck’s visit was that we both noticed (hard to ignore) it had made a repetitive squeeky-graunchy sound yesterday as we drove up and out of a steep and windy driveway in Pollock to escape some ravenous mosquitoes and an insipid bit of property. The noise had a repetitive rotational aspect that sounded serious – and it reminded me of a couple other times such a mystery sound had occurred – like at home. My initial thoughts had to do with squatting and suspension, but this has only happened when hot or on hot days, so it wasn’t a cold-start issue. The rotational aspect was bothersome. Needless to say it did not repeat in this cold morning, so that helped to throw-out the suspension notion and the clever mechanic suggested on such a truck with rear disc-brakes it could be a dragging brake-shoe that activated (or failed-to release completely) when hot. Not a Highway Threat so we’ll continue to monitor it.
Meanwhile the application of rosewood stain to the speaker-boxes and repeatedly wiping-off is becoming a bit tedious. It’s hard to penetrate the oak grain, there’s no time-based instructions to follow, and seems to wipe-off too easily. Mainly I am impatient and not very good at it – or too perfection-minded and keep fussing. Anyhow “it” has begun and holes are drilled for the feet. Once the bottom is done the sides can begin, but damn these are big heavy bastards.
I would quickly move to a place with less onerous and dumbass restrictions and a higher IQ, but our generous healthcare benefits are localized and not portable.
It’s a balmy 84-degrees today at 3:00PM, and earlier I decided to initiate my Audio-action Plan Stage-1 with the rosewood gel-stain. First I flipped the big-ass Fortés over (risking a hernia) to attack the least-visible part – the bottom. The red in the stain helps to counteract the hideous golden-oak, and lends it a more moderate walnut feel. Can’t help the grain unless I purposely try to faux-grain it as in my old Theater Days. Then I hooked up the shop-vac to the orbital sander to reduce sawdust glom, put a 220-grit pad on the sander, and finally donned my Peltors because the enclosed-space noise of both the vac and the sander running is truly deafening. I also took the long-wand of the shop-vac and attached it to the exhaust so it stuck out about 4-feet, to reduce re-contamination from the sawdust exhaust. Vroom-vroom. Burn baby burn. Got some awesome shorty 4-inch Mid-Century hairpins from Steve at Smith Mountain MetalWorks in VA, which are a hugely tremendous improvement from the weird vestigial Klipsch pedestal-things – seriously, what were they thinking? Obviously nothing much beyond the coke they were snorting – it was the Mid-80’s, women had huge, stiff hair – and so did men in metal bands. Magnum P.I. was a top show, and things were pretty weird and loose, even in Home Audio and Electronics. So the stain took, and we maybe going darker. Hope the Gods of Audio Harmony approve.