FAR Future: Episode 9

Step 1: write. check
Step 2: post. whoops

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Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Time Off, and the Barter Economy

Somehow, Labor Day just wasn’t the same now that every Monday is a day off. More people were around, that was the major difference. We’ve done a lot of cooking on the patio this summer to keep the heat outside, like everyone else, so that really wasn’t different either. I know a lot of people are burning cardboard or paper to cook with, which hasn’t helped the air quality any — but when it comes right down to it, wood, charcoal and even propane create fumes too. I can appreciate making use of the trash instead of chucking it in the landfill, too.

Right after Labor Day, we went up to the resort in Helen for a couple of weeks. We got a Tuesday-Friday block for like $150, and it was even the same unit where we have our regular week so we didn’t have to move our stuff. Internet access was pretty much gone this year; they've given up trying to keep wi-fi running and the units aren’t wired for Ethernet. Sure, I could have gone up to the clubhouse and plugged in, but we were too busy doing things together. (You know: walking, swimming, biking…) Helen is worried that their Octoberfest is going to be a bust this year, but the hotels got smart and chartered a daily bus service down to Atlanta (with a stop in Gainesville). People can come up for a day trip or stay a few days.

The other trendy vacation thing I heard about this year is a “Resort @Home” service — a maid, butler, and cook straighten up your house and wait on you hand & foot for one or two weeks. It sounds really nice, but it wouldn’t work at FAR Manor (maybe next year when the chicken houses are shut down) even if we could afford it. I guess the staff lives in a motorhome unless you have extra bedrooms.

We had a quiet vacation overall. The Boy is installing and maintaining backup power systems (with solar or wind), it’s good money and he’s staying busy; Daughter Dearest is doing a little post-grad work before starting her new job in October. We traded last year for a week in July, so she could spend the week with us without missing the start of the school year. There weren’t too many people here this year, so we didn’t have a problem finding pool chairs and we didn’t get caught behind too many people playing mini-golf. Mrs. Fetched enjoyed walking around this year, which is nice. A lot of Mountain Shadows properties are up for sale, cheap; if I thought we wouldn’t need the money for composting toilets or solar panels, I’d grab one. Of course, then I’d have two places that would need composting toilets and solar panels. I guess not.

More people are taking vacations close to home this year. Since rationing allotments are only good for 3 weeks, you can’t save up all year to burn a bunch of gas on a long road trip. Labor Day was the first holiday since rationing went into effect, and it seems that holidays (or rather, the 2 weeks previous) are going to bring a lot of activity to the exchange, and a bid-up on allotment prices — not everyone is ready to give up their long trips, I suppose. You can get stale (4 to 7 days to expiration) allotments for 25 cents/gallon most of the time, but they went to nearly a buck the week before Labor Day. We usually sell our freshest allotments, since they generally bring a higher price, and use up the stale ones. We haven’t needed to yet, but we figure we can pick up some more allotments if we run short. We’ve cleared close to $20 so far on the exchange — nobody’s getting rich on it — so we just leave it in the account just in case we need some extra go-juice. Given that rationed gas is pretty much available, we may make that trip to Florida after all — the other side of that coin is that we can’t get a place for next to nothing now.

Our new plan, though, might be to start trading. Allotments that have less than 4 days to expire can’t be auctioned on the exchange, but you can use the “private exchange” section to transfer allotments and settle the bill off-line. What with milk topping $7 at the supermarket, one of our neighbors bought a goat for milk. She’s a good producer, I guess — they said they have more milk than they know what to do with, so we might start trading allotments for goat milk. They gave us some to try; Mrs. Fetched thinks it tastes a little strange, but she said she could get used to it. (I tried it in college, and liked it quite a bit, and that hasn’t changed.) We’ve done a lot of produce-swapping this summer, too. I traded peppers and herbs for spinach, corn, and eggs. The in-laws have these green beans that can embarrass zucchini to death (I’ve seen it happen), and they had plenty to trade for stuff they wanted, too. The church down the road started offering their yard as an open-air market the last couple of weeks; I think they’ll start earlier next year.

The in-laws are doing quite well with the cattle nowadays, which is giving them a cushion for when they shut down the chicken houses next spring. Beef might be a luxury item, what with so much corn going to ethanol, but this herd eats grass. That pretty much means the only expense is fuel for cutting hay or taking the cows to the auction. The cattle farm was certified organic last year, and that’s helped a lot too. We’ve put a lot of brainwork, and a bit of physical labor, into trying to minimize the amount of fuel needed for the hay. I’m sure we could come up with some better stuff than what we’ve done so far, but every bit helps. Sooner or later, others will catch on and stop using corn for feeding livestock, but for now the advantage is ours. It’s amazing what you can get in trade for a whole cow… someone even offered them an older SUV (yeah, right — who wants a gas hog these days?). Mostly they take cash, unless it’s from a neighbor; they have enough fuel to run the farm and aren’t lacking for anything else.

What’s your “beef” these days?

continued…

The Boy Is Free, and Other Niceties of Life

The Boy went to his last probation meeting yesterday. All his fines are paid, all his requirements (drug class, DUI class) are met, the probation officer signed off and he’s a free Boy. Needless to say, his attitude was pretty good last night… even if he still reeks of cigarettes. He’s agreed to pay back some stuff he owes us, with his debts getting first cut of his landscaping job — but we’re limiting the bite we take so he can save up for a car. I hope he holds up his end… and I’ve said it before, if he’d ditch the smokes, he could afford a car that much sooner. Someone put a minivan right across the road from FAR Manor’s driveway last week; they want $400 for it but Mrs. Fetched said she saw it blowing oil. I suppose if you had a decent motor already, and a place to effect the swap, it would be a good thing to do. (I have no clue whether that VW he was talking about a while back is still in the picture.)

The girlfriend is no longer, and just after I came up with a blog-name for her (“Snippet” ’cause she’s short). She got the roving eye this last weekend, and I’m not sure what-all happened in a big dust-up the weekend before he came back home, but his tossing her bag of clothes across a front yard was involved. I understand things had started to get pretty rocky between the two of them, and whatever went on in the last two weeks pretty much finished it off. With any luck, he’ll steer clear of “romantic” entanglements for a while; they tend to cloud his already-tenuous judgement.

A deer came through and ate all the foliage off my jalapeño plants! At least they left the peppers. I’m surprised the dogs didn’t chase it off, but they might have been snoozing under the studio. It will be interesting to see whether the plants survive that particular insult. The stupid deer may have also eaten the wild blueberries, because they’re gone now too. There’s not much of a window between ripe and falling-off with those blueberries, so I may have just missed them over vacation week.

I won a set of Future Sonics Atrio headphones (link to review) from The MacObserver. Woo hoo! According to UPS, they should arrive tomorrow. They’re the type of headphones that go in the ear, so I might be able to use them under my motorcycle helmet. Having tunes (or podcasts) on the bike… how decadent. I’m not sure whether they’re blue or black, but who cares?

And the writing was on the wall for a couple of weeks, but it’s now official: SCO filed for Chapter 11. It would be nice to whiz on SCO’s grave when it’s all over, but I suspect the line for that will stretch all the way from Santa Cruz to Vancouver. Special “congratulations” to CEO Darl McBride, who took a cool, innovative company and ran it into the ground with frivolous IP lawsuits. He’ll likely end up in far better financial shape than he deserves to.

I made some parsley-pepper pizza dough last night, and we cooked us a couple of pizzas tonight. Yummers! The Boy had gone off to band practice, and came home a few minutes ago to find all the pizza pretty much gone. I think he found some leftovers though.

Work is finally starting to get less crazy, at least for a while. I have a couple of loose ends to tie up on a couple of projects, but the one that’s been driving me up a wall is done… unless the freak-out artists come up with something else. Today, it was “you need to update the revision number since you fixed the transparency on that photo.” Then, “we need PDF, not EPS” (after asking for EPS yesterday). But I think we’ve passed that water under the bridge now. I got to cut out of the office early so I could take some photos this evening for a certification run; I emailed them to the engineer and he was happy. It looks like I soon might have time to do some administrivia I’ve been ignoring for a few months.

So it’s only Tuesday, but the week after vacation is starting well.

Oddments

Bits of this & that from the last week, that didn’t get into any other post…

When we came back earlier in the week to drop off Big V and toss chickens, I found that The Boy had swiped two bottles of beer. They had only been in the bottle for a couple of days, so I’m sure they were pretty raw (and not much alcohol content either). I’d kind of hoped they would give him a bellyache, but he told me today that they were pretty good and not flat. I’m still going to put off drinking any for a month.

After the wedding yesterday, I came out to Barge Vader to find Daughter Dearest waiting. Even with the windows down, it was still fairly warm in there, so I dug out the keys to open the sunroof. “It’s just because I’m so hot,” DD joked deadpan. “Yeah, I see steam coming out of that little vent there,” I said. Her dress did a good job of covering the decotellage, but had a small opening (I suppose to push the “naughty” button).

“Maybe not,” she said, “but the groom got a good long look as he went by. I don’t think she [our friend, the bride] noticed, though.” Or maybe she did: she smeared him good with the cake downstairs.

I discovered that the (push) lawn mower is pretty well toast: J must have hit a stump or huge rock last time he mowed. He didn’t bend the blade, he bent the shaft. You could say it had the shaft, but doesn’t have it anymore. I also discovered today, that the riding mower has no brakes — makes for an exciting trip down the driveway to mow along the road. I also had to adjust the belt tensioner to get the mower blades to turn. Good thing I got the weed-eater going yesterday, because there’s no way I was going to try riding that beast in the ditch.

I got bored this afternoon and jumped on the motorcycle, using the need to look at new lawn mowers and pick up a how-to for laying patio stone as excuses. I’d just as soon get a reel mower as a replacement, but Home Despot has none. Plenty of online sources, though, all of which think the brands they carry are the best. The Sunlawn line is a bit more expensive than the others, but tend to be a bit lighter (not sure that’s all good or not) and have optional baggers.

Some text-spam scammer has been dinging us for $20/month on our cellphone bill. AT&T is going to fix this, or it’s going to cost them a lot more than $40 (two months). I’ll just turn the phone off, toss it in a drawer, and toss the bills in the trash while getting the PSC and FCC involved.

Cleaning up the grounds, I learned a little bit about the litterbugs that frequent the road passing FAR Manor. They like to eat mostly at Dairy Queen, but Zaxby’s and McDonald’s are also popular. They drink primarily lite beer, but Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Diet Dr. Pepper, and fast food drinks are all represented as well. They smoke a little, and shop at Wal-Mart (of course) — the empty plastic bag was actually a welcome find, but only because I had filled the one bag I’d brought with me. Spammers, of course, are a sub-species of litterbug; neither one has any respect for other people’s property. Or, judging by their diets, their own health either. I’d like to find the morons who thought tossing glass bottles would be a good idea.

Korean baseball is, shall we say, a little strange. The link showed up in my email this week.

Hooray! (uh, wait a minute…)

Technically, I’m still on vacation, although we had to check out yesterday morning. With the girlies off to the beauty shop to prep themselves for a wedding (and DD for a hotsy-totsy birthday party tonight), I was basically left to my own devices and decided this would be a good time to look at the weed-eater. It hasn’t been running for a while, and you can see why.

A quick motorcycle trip into town and back, plus $1.07 for the fuel line, plus a few minutes to put it all together (it took maybe as much time as the ride in and back), and the weed-eater is working again. Now I don’t have to listen to Mrs. Fetched making noises about buying a new one… although it does mean I have to find another excuse for not doing the weed-eating. On the other hand, I’ve been wanting to clear the path to the compost heap myself. Plus, I took a very windy back road home, and the bike was thrilled to whip through the curves.

I might tackle the trim next weekend, especially if the weather is as pleasant as it has been today. Mrs. Fetched suggested I borrow her mom’s pressure washer to knock the peeling paint off; if it won’t force water under the shingles or something similarly ugly, that would beat scraping it off by hand.

Helen and Back

I usually enjoy being away from FAR Manor with Mrs. Fetched, but the exception is wandering around in a tourist trap. I despise kitsch, but the Mrs. is one of those women who gotta have it. I’ve always associated stuff like ceramic/sandstone angels and mantle clocks with old ladies, and I’m not ready for her to be an old lady yet. But she was into this stuff back when I could say “this is old lady stuff” without any false implications; besides, you play the hand you’re dealt.

The upside is that when you have most of a week to hang out, you can spend some time scouting the stores for stuff you want and then swoop in and grab everything you want in a single sweep. We had done our scouting trip Sunday afternoon (and believe you me, hanging out with three women — Mrs. Fetched, Big V, and Daughter Dearest — in a tourist trap is far worse than hanging out with just one). I’d also planned to have a nice dinner with Mrs. at one of the restaurants in town, and worry primarily about the food being good and price a distant second. I’d planned on supper, but we decided on lunch instead, and went to a place called the Old Bavarian Inn. Not cheap by any stretch, but it was the best Reuben sandwich I’ve ever had.

I saw this T-shirt and decided it pretty much summed up the whole point of vacations. I was going to turn my head, but Mrs. Fetched said it wrinkled the fabric (sorry KB).

The rain held off until this evening; it’s raining now, so we pre-packed some of our stuff so we can check out a little more quickly tomorrow morning. I was thinking about a dual-sport ride this weekend, but I may have to take a pass due to mud and street tires not playing well together.

We Now Return You to Escape 2007.1

The period of vacatious interruptus has passed, leaving us back at the retreat. The Boy got up without any help from us and got off to work, so there wasn’t any issue from that end. We had one more good thing come our way during the interlude, although it has already caused a rift in the FAR Future universe: a new coffee shop has opened downtown (so much for the library having a clear field, although a lot can happen in five years). Mrs. Fetched and I agreed that we’d eat lunch there today after we finished with the chickens (after bringing them in, you need to walk through to get the DOA count). It was quite nice; the previous business in that building (originally the post office) was a recording studio — he simply furnished the sound booths and makes them available for people who have to have meetings or homework klatches. Of course, there’s a common area with a couple of tables and couches, but half of the public space is dedicated to a music venue. He has a lineup of different bands performing through the fall, and open mike nights otherwise. If The Boy can come up with a set of clean stuff, he’d be all set.

So after a middle-school football game (our guys lost, 20-12), we ran away. We had eaten lunch a little late, so we figured we could find somewhere to eat in Cleveland (GA). However, nothing there appealed to Mrs. Fetched, so we just went on back and ate some more of the leftover grilled chicken.

And here we are. :-) Mrs. Fetched is reading on the couch, and I’m enjoying Groove Salad and catching up on email and blogs.

UPDATE: we returned to an empty parking lot in front of our unit. Some morons in a BMW were insisting on parking in our spot, but they (and everyone else) seem to have cleared out now that the weekend’s over. It’s now more like what I remember last year… quiet. Ahhhhh.

TB02, On Vacation (of course)

I have to contrive to get us farther away from FAR Manor for vacations. As I wrote last year, the evil of the chicken houses has a gravitational field that extends as far as the timeshare. Her reassurances last year about the chicken houses not getting in the way this year, as expected, didn’t pan out.

To put it briefly, we’re back at FAR Manor until tomorrow evening. Well, we had to come home last night anyway, so Daughter Dearest could get to school today (and to deposit Big V at her place). They brought in a fresh batch of chickens (to only one house today, instead of two) and we had to distribute them. This only takes a half hour or so, plus the hour of preparation, but the preparations are done so all we have to do tomorrow is dump the birds, get a shower, and run awaayyyyyyy.

Our first stop was at Big V’s… but guess who was walking along the road that way too? The Boy showed up down at Big V’s about the time we were ready to leave. He was making the right noises, as usual — but the tone also seemed to be a little more on-key this time. Is he starting to grow up at last? His job is winding down (and his boss getting arrested didn’t help), but now he’s hooked up with Big V’s hubby and his lawn care — I guess they needed someone more than they needed to not give him one more chance, I suppose. But he’s nearly done with the financial end of his probation (he’s completed all the other requirements), and he has actually hooked up with some people who are renting a house. He primarily wants to get his act together (he says), and get to where he can chip in on the rent. He says he wants to quit drinking, and claims to have poured out what little liquor we had in the house (probably down his gullet) to avoid temptation. He seems to be willing to do things our way, even if he’s not terribly happy about them, at least so far. Give it a week.

So now we have a TB02 to deal with. I invited him to come back to the retreat when we go (thinking it might be easier to keep an eye on him). He declined, mainly because he’ll be working in the morning. Daughter Dearest will let us know if things are not going as agreed, and we can get back quickly (although we won’t be happy).

But this trip home isn’t all bad. I got my beer bottled up, and I was able to use my shaver and find my sandals, both of which I left here. I suppose I’ll get to appreciate the peace and quiet when I finally get some, starting tomorrow night.

BREAKING: Daughter Dearest on the radio

I just found out about it, and it's in the next 20 minutes!

UPDATE 8:51 p.m.: happening now!

Escape 2007.1, Day 1&2: Ch-ch-ch-changes

I guess Mrs. Fetched hasn’t quite figured out that part of the appeal of a vacation is to get away from her family. But when Big V begged her to join us for the weekend, of course she agreed. Big V did sweeten the deal by bringing a bunch of groceries, though.

That, and the mere presence of Daughter Dearest (also just for the weekend, back to school with herself on Monday) and Mrs. Fetched, is the first major difference between this year and last. The pre-escape frenzy, though, was quite familiar if somewhat amplified. I left work early, but about an hour later than I really wanted to. After packing, loading up Barge Vader (including airing up the left rear tire, which is leaky), and stopping for gas and beer (and a can of stop-leak for the tire), we rolled into the retreat just before 9, packed the fridge and cupboards, and…

The second difference, a quite pleasant one, cropped up. Daughter Dearest asked me why “Netgear” gave her an error when she tried to join the network. “Huh?” I said, and grabbed my MacBook. Ironically, by virtue of its lower-end plastic case, the “consumer” Apple laptops tend to have a better wifi range than the “pro” models. I also found “Netgear” and got no joy from it, but I also found “CHCA1” — the office network — and was able to join! DD was never able to see it on her computer, so I let her borrow mine and started reading her Lord of the Flies book.

A couple more changes were apparent during my morning coffee on the deck. First, the resort in general and our section in particular is a lot busier this year. I had the whole building to myself last year; at least three — maybe all four — of the units in the building are occupied today. A youth group appears to have come in for the weekend (or maybe the entire week). Second, last year’s spiders have given way to bagworms. The nature soundtrack of the morning is masked by conversations nearby and the sounds of construction across the lake. A couple of teenagers sit on benches or retaining walls, reading or poking at some electronic device.

Big V comes out, wearing a sports bra over her nightgown. “Looks good, don’t it?” she grins, turning all the way around.

Might as well go with the silly flow: “Yeah, but there’s no way to unhook it.”

“That’s not a problem — you just pull it up!” and she matches the action to the words. Luckily, it’s over the nightgown. I suppose she was continuing the “TMI” moment from last night, when she informed us she’d only brought one pair of underwear, but that was OK because she wasn’t wearing it. I have plenty of free entertainment through tomorrow night, whether I want it or not. I guess I’ll make the best of it.

And of course, The Boy has inherited his mom’s sense of timing: he called last night (after we got settled in) and asked if he could come home. Sure, without the girlfriend though. He’s staying with Splat this weekend; I’m not sure what’s going to happen come Sunday night when we come home for various reasons (including the subpoena thing, and they have The Boy slated to testify as well). I just hope he doesn’t do what he did last year and get Mrs. Fetched out of here too soon.

Having been raised on a farm, both Mrs. Fetched and Big V are quite familiar with horses. They were all over the guided horseback ride thing this morning; we signed up for the 11a.m. slot and had it all to ourselves (fore to back: Daughter Dearest, Big V, Mrs. Fetched). My horse, like many I’ve ridden on these tours, was interested in seeing what he could get away with — he seemed to know just how close he could get to trees without snagging the rider’s leg. They blew some pretty impressive horse farts too; I was lucky to be second in line (just behind the guide).

The girlies are planning to play bingo tonight at the clubhouse. I haven’t decided whether I want to do that or not. I might just chill here, maybe do a little more writing.

iPhone-mania; or What I Really Want

Vacation starts tomorrow. I’m momentarily resurfacing to cover the technology story of the week. I had a productive writing night last night, here’s hoping for more…

Like many long-time Apple users, I was keenly interested in the iPhone and how it would turn out — but (again) like many, had no plans to buy one any time soon. I got a Samsung Sync at the beginning of the year; it’s no iPhone but does a fair job getting online and can even play music and (some) video. Still, I’m glad that the iPhone has done so well so far — by the time I’m ready to replace the Sync, the iPhone should be a good bit more affordable (even after the reduction Steve announced this week) with the more serious complaints (no 3G, for one) ironed out.

A couple of musings about what I’d like the Sync (or the iPhone, for that matter) to do, began to crystallize when I read a MacObserver forum discussion about what a sub-notebook should look like. But it took the introduction of the iPod touch to put the last piece together.

What I really want is something CS (my college roomie) and I brainstormed about way back in 1980 or so: a good pocket computer. The 2007 version is basically an iPod touch with TextEdit, an email client, and the ability to pair with a fold-up Bluetooth (or USB) keyboard. This would be something I could stuff in a jacket pocket or fanny pack, or under a car seat, then pull out wherever I happen to be and do some writing — with background music, if desired! — if the mood strikes me. I could email files home right away (given wifi availability) or transfer it when I get back to FAR Manor.

I'll have to see if “they” manage to get Linux working on the iPod touch like they have the “classic” iPod. If they do, I just might have my pocket computer at last.

Going Dark (temporarily)

Between vacation preparation and the desire (more like a need) to do some writing — including some FAR Future episodes — posts will be pretty scarce this week. Look for a vacation post some time next week, and I hope to get lots of writing done this week and next.

Feel free to keep me caught up on your doings here — if not, I have most of my blog-buddies in my RSS reader so I’ll be able to catch up with you when I come back.

Cookout Preparations

Tomorrow is Labor Day, and (at least in the US) that means the traditional “good-bye summer’ cookout. Amazingly, we ended up not doing any chicken house work today — and there was much rejoicing, although that does mean we’ll be pounding at it tomorrow.

We spent the afternoon shopping for everything from jeans to plumbing supplies to groceries. We picked up salmon to grill tomorrow, and I’ve already got a side dish going — I took some of the dehydrated tomatoes, reconstituted them, and tossed them into a marinade with red bell peppers (from the back yard), mushrooms, and some fresh herbs. That should make a good side dish for the salmon!

What kind of cookout plans do you have for tomorrow?

Let the Countdown Begin!

I hopped on the scales this morning, expecting to see the usual 202 maybe even 204 — it’s been a stressful week & I’ve done a little snacking on the side.

Nope. 197. The first digit IS A ONE!

Knowing that our scales can give a different reading on a different part of the floor, I moved them and tried again. 195.

The countdown has officially begun. If I stay below 200 for an entire week, I conduct my “special celebration.” I think a week from Monday will be the right time; Mrs. Fetched will be testifying and Daughter Dearest will be at school. It also happens to the be the first Monday of our vacation.

FAR Future: Episode 8

I’ve gone out on a limb this time, in several ways. I also see where I’ll have to fill in some backstory sooner or later — but if I waited for it all to happen, it would be 2012 when I got around to posting. :-P

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Thursday, August 30, 2012
Crossin’ the Line

Well, I’ve been saying it for a couple of years now, but the FCC finally agreed.

As expected, my Monday “off” was given to the chicken house. They took the last batch out at the beginning of July, and gave us the month off. Some places had 50% (or worse) die-offs when power started getting really flaky, so they figured it was probably best to just sit out July and bring a new batch in a few weeks ago. August is a good time to start a bunch, because they need that heat the first few weeks. By the time they start really producing their own heat, it will have cooled off enough that we won’t need to run fans constantly. The company wants to run a “split” house, where they close off half the house and stagger the flocks — they blow the hot air out of the side with older flock into the side with the younger flock. That knocks off like half the gas needed to keep the young side warm. But Mrs. Fetched has already told them we’re on our last year. Come May, we’re done (and there was MUCH rejoicing).

But I digress. We spent the morning dealing with the chickens, then did some gardening work, then I talked Mrs. Fetched into spending a couple hours at the creek. Just for grins, I grabbed the wind-up radio and took it with us — Shotgun Sam comes on at 3 and it’s been kind of fun to listen in lately. Not because he has anything intelligent to say (quite the contrary), but lately he’s starting to lose touch with his listeners and he gets frustrated pretty quick.

Sam must have figured gas rationing was going to be The Thing to keep the listeners stirred up, angry, and ready to do what his handlers want them to… and it just hasn’t worked that way, at least on Planet Georgia. People talk about their three-day weekends, using Sam’s show to hook up with a carpool, and mostly they couldn’t care less about rationing. I’ve been pleasantly surprised, I’ll have to admit. So this afternoon, Sam was delivering the usual talking points — rationing Bad, free market Good — and took a caller.

“Hey Sam,” the guy said. “I’m an electrician outta Gainesville —”

“Yeah, I can imagine how rationing has killed your business.”

“Actually, it’s helped,” he said. Mrs. Fetched was only half-listening, but she caught that. Neither one of us were expecting to hear that on Shotgun Sam.

Neither was Sam: “Whaaat?” was all he managed to get out.

“Yeah. I know it’s gotta be hurting somewhere, but I’m better off with it now. Before, I couldn’t count on getting enough gas to get through the week — I had to turn down work because I didn’t know if I could get there — but I know I’ll get 20 gallons a week now ’cuz I’m in construction…”

Mrs. Fetched and I gave each other the goggle-eye. “You’re in the wrong line of work,” she said. Sam was trying to take over, but all he could get out was an occasional “Yeah, but—” or “You gotta—” while the guy kept on:

“…on the exchange. And contractors in Athens and Cleveland are staying closer to home, too. I swapped jobs with a guy in Clarkesville, and it’s workin’ out for me. If I got a bigger job, I toss the dirt bike in the truck and ride that home for the nights. Sure, I’d like to have a full tank all the time, and I never thought I’d say it, but this rationing is actually workin’ out for me.” (Yes, I’m paraphrasing. I wasn’t recording the show, but I think I remember what he said pretty well.)

Sam finally got his jaw off the desk, cut the guy off, and started ranting. It was mostly incoherent, or maybe I was laughing so hard I was trying to keep from going under (I like laying in the creek on these 90+ days) and couldn’t concentrate. I caught the gist of it, I think: the shortages are artificial, it’s because we didn’t drill ANWR, it’s because we got out of Iraq (funny how that works, they’re actually getting their production act back together), it’s because we didn’t invade Iran when we had the chance, it’s because goplets are getting cheated in each election (yeah right), it’s the unions’ fault, it’s the immigrants’ fault…. At this point, he got to stammering. It was totally hilarious, right up until he forgot to use code language, and came out and said it: “I guess there’s only one thing left. We need to start takin’ Congress out, one at a time.” He might have managed to pass it off as meaning electorally, except that he added his trademark shotgun-racking sound effect. I think the producers panicked at this point, about a minute too late. He started in again, they faded him out and went to commercials, then some news & sports reporting came on.

Mrs. Fetched cocked her head at me. “Did he say what I just think he said?”

“Yup. He’s in some major hot water.”

I’ve been waiting to hear how things went down before posting, not like I’ve had a lot of time this week for anything else. Anyway, the FCC is fining him $200,000 and giving a wrist-slap fine to all the stations who carried the show. I suppose a couple of sponsors will drop the show (until the publicity dies down, anyway), Sam issued a non-apology yesterday, and the rest of the professional mouths that seem to own the media will moan about how “unfair” it is and urge their listeners to help out “poor Sam” (like he needs it — Scaife, or whoever’s hand is up Sam’s… back… probably calls it a cost of doing business and will pay it out of petty cash).

It’s like I said before, the wingies will try taking by force what they can’t get at the polls. The Dems got a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate in 2008 (and Lordy was it fun to watch Lieberman whine when he got stripped of his appointments), along with the Presidency — then (as if it was needed) a veto-proof majority in both houses in 2010. The goplets are putting up one of the most unelectable candidates ever for President this year, so it doesn’t look like they’ll get any traction with the White House, and their prospects in Congress don’t look much better. Only seven states, Planet Georgia unfortunately being one, still sends a majority of goplets to Washington. People aren’t happy with the energy problems, but they seem to understand the (current) government isn’t to blame for the situation. The Right is starting to lose its grip, on a lot of people and (so it seems) mentally. If they ever had the latter…

Oh well, on to more pleasant thoughts. With the four-day work week underway, I’ll be telecommuting three days out of four — so that’s a little less gas I’ll need to burn each week. I get to spend Mondays in the chicken houses, but only for the mornings, and only for a few more months. I guess I’ll spend afternoons down at the creek, especially if Mrs. Fetched joins me. Nothing like skinny-dipping with your SO to take your mind off politics…

continued…

Potpourri Monday

It’s Monday. Work is being crazier than usual (or perhaps it’s the new normal… shudder), with two major projects coming due before I escape FAR Manor in two weeks. You know things are getting squirrely at work when I entertain thoughts of quitting, ditching FAR Manor one way or the other, moving back into the old place, and taking up the chicken-ranching business. So if I’m getting that loopy, veggie-pr0n is the least of my worries.

My beer is fermenting along nicely; the yeast is eating sugar and malt, producing alcohol and farting CO₂ out the airlock. The A/C in my car may not have died after all; it didn’t do well sitting in stop&go traffic in 100-degree weather but seems to cope with better traffic and slightly cooler weather. If it holds out three more weeks, I probably won’t miss it after that.

I managed to get a walk in this evening after supper. Since Mrs. Fetched demurred on accompanying me, I set a fairly aggressive pace. That doesn’t mean I didn’t take time to stop and sniff the flowers, and pick this kudzu stalk (no, it’s not growing through the blinds, although it would probably root if I spit at it once or twice). It was kind of tough to break off the stalk… and no, I’m not concerned about running afoul of wildflower laws. Kudzu is an aggressively invasive exotic on Planet Georgia, and has been known to grow across lightly-travelled roads (I’ve seen it happen).

The Boy called to let us know he has a construction job. I hope he’s telling the truth; having a job he likes might give him the desire for a little structure (and he likes construction work). He was talking about getting a Golf GTI for like $500… at that price, I figure it has a horrible gouge through the VIN plate though.

Better Days

This was one of the better days around FAR Manor. We got up around 8 and ate breakfast at iHOP, for starters. (The “Just for Me” section of the menu has selections for people who want to eat at iHOP and still give a rip about their weight. I like the Garden Scramble.) We — that is, Mrs. Fetched, Daughter Dearest, and I — talked through the situation and cleared the air quite a bit, which is a major relief.

After breakfast, we went to church. Since the girlies haven’t been for quite a while, everyone was happy to see them. There was a “last Sunday” lunch downstairs, but we were all still full from iHOP and skipped. After an afternoon nap (glorious!), I put the leftover tomatoes on the dehydrator (these were the ones that needed some extra ripening time), and I figured out a quicker way to blanch them. After supper, I finally got the beer started. It will be like October before I open the first one, but that’s about the time I’ll be tackling some outdoor projects & it will be nice to wrap up with a homebrew.

I washed up two sinks full of dishes, and am wrapping up my day on-line. More weekends should be like this.

Weekend Cinema

Thanks go out to Daughter Dearest for this find.

Check out this amazing French Horn solo…

Stuck at the Office

About 45 minutes ago, the weather was downright hostile… let alone to a motorcyclist. I figure the wind was gusting past 40mph; the rain was nearly horizontal and a pine tree went down out back of the office. Since the office has a largish set of eaves out back, I stepped out and got a little video of the rain gushing out of the downspouts — quite impressive, I’ll put it on archive.org later.

The rain has let up quite a bit as I type, but hasn’t stopped completely. I’m also hearing thunder, and it’s not the Harley variety. Mrs. Fetched said stay put as long as necessary, and eat on the way home if needed (and I probably will at this point). At least I brought the rain suit.

Well, I guess I’ll work a little more.

UPDATE: I was putting on my rain suit when a co-worker came by, said he goes my way, and offered me a ride if Mrs. Fetched could pick me up at the half-way point. She was amenable, so we did. We went by and picked up the bike and the work computer (in case I want to try to catch up/get ahead this weekend).

FAR Future: Episode 7

Hooray, we got some rain today! First in nearly a month. I hope it’s not this dry five years from now…

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Thursday, August 23, 2012
Headin’ Out

I’ve noticed that the power seems to be getting a little more reliable… that is, it’s more likely to be up when it’s scheduled to be up. Maybe people have finally gotten smart and turned off their air conditioners. Most of us, those without serious health problems anyway, are getting used to the heat. I thought it would hit Mrs. Fetched harder than it has — but then again, she was born here and they didn’t have luxuries like air conditioning when she was younger. Au contraire, if anything it’s done her some good. She spends a lot of time outside anyway; if she’s not dealing with the chickens she’s working on our garden through the day. She’s sweated off a lot of weight and seems to have more energy. The weight loss is really helping her knee, and she’s actually doing a little bicycling. Yup, you can change your ways in your 50s…

Or the reason that power is getting more reliable could be that the big desert cities are emptying out — Phoenix, Tucson, Vegas, Reno, etc. Not to mention most of Florida. I can’t imagine what it would be like trying to live in those places without air conditioning during the summer. I saw an article last month where a lot of people in Flagstaff were facing foreclosure, then all the Scottsdale people came up and started buying up property at a premium price. Suddenly, those fortunate souls had their mortgages (and the rest of their bills) paid off, with enough left over to start over elsewhere. That last part was kind of important, because they had to go find somewhere else to live… preferably where they could find work. So there’s been a lot of migration lately.

Naturally, most of the migration this summer has been north. The Great Lakes region has lots of water, while so many places out west are drying up, so things have really been booming up that way. My dad gets calls from real estate agents at least two or three times a week, wanting to know if he wants to sell his lake house. He responses have gotten… shall we say, somewhat sharper as time goes on. There used to be a hydro plant on the river where I grew up; I think they’re talking about re-commissioning it to feed the new businesses coming in. Talk about a godsend… with the auto industry all but dead (idiots couldn’t let go of their freeking high-margin SUVs), new business are coming in, and old businesses are staying plenty busy. The unemployment rate isn’t great, but (for a change) no worse than the national average.

The resorts up north are really cleaning up. One of the Atlanta companies rented a dozen cabins in northern Wisconsin for the entire summer, and moved their executive team en masse to cooler climes. Of course, the employees doing the real work are sweltering in near-sweatshop conditions while the bosses drink beer around a campfire and do what they call “strategic planning.” Translated into English, that probably means “figuring out how to skim a few million more off the top and make the grunts pay for it.” Of course, the only reason we heard about it at all was because some employees were being investigated for swiping not-so-surplus equipment; when the reporters started snooping around, they got an earful. Heck, I don’t blame the employees in that case.

The question came up at the last town hall meeting at work, about rumors that the company was going to move into facilities north of Boston that we used to use, and never were able to get rid of. The answer sounded pretty reasonable: the power situation there wasn’t any better than it was here, but expenses there were higher, so it wouldn’t do any good to move. Another question got a double-take: “Given the fuel situation, do you see any problem getting shipments out of our factory in China? And is the factory having power problems?” I’ve never seen the execs go into a huddle like that in a town hall — ever. They finally admitted that both were likely, but they couldn’t talk further about it (which probably means they haven’t given it much thought). Our sales are good… with so many people telecommuting these days, they almost have to be. But if we can’t get the gadgets built — or shipped to where they need to go — we’re going to have A Problem.

But I digress. Down south, tourism is not doing nearly as well. The Gulf Coast usually gets plenty of traffic, but nobody wants to make reservations now that we’re getting into the ugly half of hurricane season. People are waiting until the last minute, then calling around to find a vacancy for the next week. They usually don’t have too much trouble, and can usually get “special rates” anyway. If you’re employed (so you have money for a vacation), and aren’t tied to a specific place, you can get a lot of vacation for your money along the Gulf this year. The running joke is that it costs more to drive to the Redneck Riviera than it does to stay there for a week. Mom says if I can get down to Florida this winter, we could probably stay in one of the condos for the cost of the utilities. If they don’t get clobbered by a hurricane first. I’m thinking we might have to pass, depending on fuel availability. If I could get 20 gallons all at once, I could put two 5-gallon cans in the trunk and get there without having to worry about a fuel stop — if the fumes didn’t get to us. And we didn’t get waylaid. I’ve heard that Amtrak is planning an Atlanta-Gainesville (FL) schedule, with legs from there to Tampa-Fort Myers and Orlando-Miami. That would probably be the way to go, if they actually do it.

The first of the permanent three-day weekends starts tomorrow. Remember to stay in bed Monday morning — no sense in wasting gas!

continued…

Under the…

We were laying in bed this morning, knowing it was past time to get moving but neither one of us really wanted to be first, when came the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway. “Bye, Daughter Dearest,” I said.

“She left a long time ago,” Mrs. Fetched said. That got us both moving. It was 8 a.m., so there was a certain “WTF is going on now?” in the air. She threw a dress on over herself, while I hunted for a pair of shorts. Finally, with the shorts taken care of, I looked out the window.

A cop car.

Thinking, “WTF has The Boy done NOW!?” I grabbed yesterday’s shirt off the floor and put it on as I headed to the front door. I arrived just as the cop finished handing Mrs. Fetched a subpoena.

We scanned the names, and didn’t recognize a single one. Nothing to do with The Boy, at least directly. Nothing to do with anything, as far as we could tell. There was a number on the sheet, which I’m sure Mrs. Fetched has called by now to see what she has to do with this matter. But at least it wasn’t The Boy in jail, or worse.

[Subpoena: from the Latin, sub poena, literally “under the penis,” or “by the balls.”]

UPDATE from the comments: It turns out that the case has to do with some of The Boy's old acquaintances, a couple and a kid who were working together in thievery. They may have been the ones who (officially) stole the generator from the party house after The Boy took it over there… but I suspect the whole group was in on it and used the proceeds to buy drugs and/or booze. I don’t expect we’ll get the generator back, but stranger things have happened.