The (Other) Storms of Spring

As usual, I wasn’t in on the initial “fun.” In fact, I was absorbed in working on FAR Future last night, posting Episode 25 and filling in pieces of the next episode, when I heard a BANG. That’s usually an “intervention urgently requested” signal, so I walked into the empty living room. “What was that?” I called toward the kitchen.

“The Boy,” Mrs. Fetched said, but without the usual heat that comes with a TB04. Then I heard a car revvvvvv. “Oh!” she gasped. “Stop him. I need to talk to him, go out front!” She sounded worried, and I got moving — this wasn’t the usual head-butting aftermath, so something was significantly amiss.

I dashed out the front door and reached the driveway with a little time to spare. The way The Boy came around the side of the house, though, had me ready to jump… but I waved wildly and he stopped with a few feet of margin.

“I’m taking EJ to work,” he said.

“Wait a minute. Your mom wants to talk to you.” She came out the front door even as I spoke, after trying to catch him at the back.

“What happened?” she asked, and the agitation he’d barely held in check poured out: it was dark, so I couldn’t see that he had been seething.

“Snippet pissed me off!” he yelled. “She’s always pulling $#¡+ like that!”

“What did she do?”

“EJ wanted to ride in front for once, and Snippet threw a fit about it. She started in on me again — and then she hit me — and I’ve had it with her $#¡+!” He was almost crying at this point. “She’s outta here tomorrow — I’m going to take her back to her mom, and that’s it!”

That didn’t take long, I thought. Aloud I said, “Look, you’re really worked up — you want me to take EJ and you can settle down a bit? I don’t mind taking him.”

“That might be a good idea,” Mrs. Fetched said. “You’re really not in a good frame of mind to be driving. How’s your blood sugar?”

The Boy pulled himself together — “with a visible effort” is an old writing cliché, but that’s exactly what he did — and shook his head. “My blood sugar’s fine,” he said (he gets completely non-linear when it’s way high, like 300). “Snippet just pissed me off. I need to get away from her for a little while. I’ll be OK.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Let your dad drive,” Mrs. Fetched said. “You can ride along. I’m just afraid you won’t be paying attention to your driving, and you know how that can go.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he said, getting a little calmer. His blood sugar was obviously OK — he’s completely incapable of getting it together even that much when he’s gone off the rails.

“Well… drive safe, then,” Mrs. Fetched said, seeing it too. “And come back safe,” I added. He nodded and rolled away, leaving the driveway without the usual “enthusaism,” and we went back inside.

I went back to writing, wondering what had become of Snippet, when I heard voices in the guest room (next to the master bedroom). I poked my head in, to find Snippet teary-eyed and pouting on the bed, talking to Mrs. Fetched.

“Girl talk?”

“No,” Mrs. Fetched said, and I stepped in — then realized I had nothing helpful to say (stop manipulating him, you little twit wouldn’t have been well-received, I expect) and left. They continued to talk for a good long while, and then we talked to The Boy for a while when he returned.

“23 years from now, do you think you could stand living with Snippet the way she is?”

“No way. And I told her, if she does that even once more, we’re through. She just keeps pushing, and pushing, and I don’t know why.”

“Because it works,” she said. “She just wears you down until you do what she wants.” (She should know, that’s why FAR Manor owns us, after all.)

“And when she pushes you like that, and makes you mad, she wins,” I said. “When you’re mad, you’re not thinking. You just re-act, and you can’t get past reacting to planning.”

We talked a little more, then went to bed. We could hear Snippet on the phone to her mom.

This afternoon, to Mrs. Fetched, it looked like the two of them were going to try papering over their differences and going on without resolving a very serious issue… but the fault lines were very visible when they got to Wendy’s (they were running various errands).

“I’m kind of hungry, too,” Snippet said. How this kid manages to keep a figure like hers, eating almost nothing but junk food, is a mystery to me. Probably involved pricking her finger and signing a piece of parchment in blood, but I digress. “Can you get me a bacon cheeseburger?” (I can has cheezburger?)

“Yeah, Mom, can you get her something?” Mrs. Fetched said nothing and ordered only her own chow. The Boy shrugged and got her the requested burger and drink; he got a Baconator, large fries, and drink (his mom’s side of the family processes fat better than carbs, I’m the opposite).

“I’m still hungry,” Snippet said after finishing her burger. “Can I have some of your fries?”

“All you ordered was the sandwich. If you wanted fries you should have asked for some.”

“That’s a lot of food,” Mrs. Fetched intervened. “You can share some of your fries.”

Mrs. Fetched said that Snippet started another round of continuous low-level sniping pretty much the rest of the afternoon; The Boy mostly ignored it but I don’t know for how much longer. They’re visiting a friend of his right now; if she keeps her mouth shut things might get better… but as EJ said, “that would be hard for her.” There’s not a while lot of love between EJ and Snippet… it reminds me of Lobster and M.A.E. back when, although Lobster was simply jealous that The Boy was getting some female attention and Lobster wasn’t. I also don’t expect that the two of them will start spending a lot of time together complaining about stuff like Lobster and M.A.E. did. History doesn’t repeat, it just rhymes, after all.

FAR Future, Episode 25: So Far So Good

A weekend away from the intertubes might have done me some good. I’ll make up for the long delay on this episode by putting up the next one (mostly written already) later this week.

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Monday, June 17, 2013
So Far So Good

The rolling blackouts of summer have started, but so far they only last for a couple hours as intended. That means my home-grown electricity is enough to run a fan or three plus the computer and network while I’m working at home. Now if I could get a wireless signal to the creek, and a waterproof laptop, I’d be set!

Speaking of laptops, I’m drooling over Apple’s new MacBook Sunlight. Nice commercial, naturally, with the guy using one in front of a window all day, then winding up the (optional) charger when evening comes. The entire lid is covered with solar cells — great move for anyone working at home. If my job continues to hold up, I’d love to get one for myself. But even if I can’t get a new laptop, I can be really happy. The chicken houses are, now and forever, past tense. They’re already becoming hay barns and storage for various junk that accumulates on a farm. Even better, Daughter Dearest is home for the summer. Her latest online beau is a little closer to home this time — he works on one of the new Auto-Sail freighters out of Savannah. She told us about their meetup, and how it went well, even if she didn’t get a chance to bring him here. She said he’ll be back in late July and maybe we’ll get to meet him then.

Plenty of sun so far this summer — good for solar panels, not so good for gardens (lack of rain). I sure hope we’re not going back into another drought cycle. We did pretty well rain-wise last year, but that doesn’t do much for us now. The really amazing thing is how this border dispute with Tennessee has gone on for so long… I figured it would die years ago. But the Supreme Court agreed to hear the case last week(!) — so one way or another, that should be over with next month.

But I digress. The libraries have gone back to summer hours, of course — and the right people are making sure the lights (and A/C) stay on all day. The only complaint was from parents who wonder why they didn’t go to summer hours as soon as school let out.

The local library is presenting an “Energy Saving Tips for the Family” series that’s been well-attended. I had to slip away from work for a couple of hours to check out the presentation last week, on “comfortable outdoor summer spaces.” It was sponsored by Home Depot, which made sense, but the presenter did a pretty good job of keeping the “new stuff” pitch to a minimum. There was a lot of focus on selecting the site — shade, breeze, soft ground cover, furniture, view — all that stuff. They suggested getting a neighborhood together to plan either a community space or ways to connect individual spaces, and offered a break on delivery charges for group orders, yadda yadda. :-) She had to put in one plug, anyway!

I asked about creek sites, and she suggested that a neighborhood group might be the way to go there. There are special considerations, she said, for creekside sites: depending on the slope of the bank, you may need to do some earth-moving. Erosion control is a big deal, too, especially when you have people tromping around it all summer. There aren’t too many neighbors in the pasture, unless you count the cows, so I guess we’ll stick with the lawn chairs and plastic table. When it really starts getting hot (like next week), I have some ballast to hold down the table and we can sit in the creek and still have our magazines and lemonade.

Someone else brought up the idea of integrating a “space” with a garden. She laughed and asked if there were any kids involved — a kid taking a tumble in the wrong place could wipe out a lot of your crop! But there are ways to do it — waist-high beds (which reduce bending and squatting anyway) are one possibility.

I should have asked about moss… it’s soft and it likes shade, after all. And I have a bunch of it growing in half of the front yard. Maybe I should just put some furniture out there and call it good enough.

Nah. I’d rather have it down at the creek.

continued…

Spinning Wrenches, Spinning Air Columns

Ah, spring… when a young man’s fancy turns to— HOLY $#!+A TORNADO!!!!

The first Big One of spring paid a visit to downtown Atlanta, and took in many of the tourist sites: the Georgia Dome, Phillips Arena (interrupting a Hawks game in overtime), the CNN Center, and many many more. The usual Saturday cartoon fest was thrown aside for a wall-to-wall news orgy of the Disaster On Our Doorstep (DOOD!).

But more storms were on their way for the afternoon, and we had stuff to do, so we turned off the TV and got to it. The Boy miraculously showed up in the morning when he said he would, which took the pressure off me to once again throw my plans in the dumpster and tend to the chicken houses (wasn’t gonna happen anyway). Big V’s husband came by with his trailer; we rolled the red Civic (which has stopped shifting) onto it and took it to the mechanic. From there, I went on to the motorcycle shop and their “sidewalk sale,” shopping list in hand and rear wheels from both motorcycles in the trunk. As I’d hoped, heated gloves were in the discount bin, so I found a pair that fit me and scratched that one off my list. Then it was off to the parts counter for some serious denting of the checking account (recently augmented by the addition of a bonus check). I came home with:

- a cargo rack for the Suzuki (a miracle: they had it in stock!)
- heated gloves
- brake pads for the Virago
- the Virago rear wheel, with fresh rubber
- fresh oil for both bikes, filter for the Virago
- chain lube
- cable lube (plus a lube tool)

Stuff I’ll be picking up later in the week:

- Suzuki rear tire, with fresh rubber
- Acerbis 4.25gal tank for the Suzuki
- garage stand

I got home just in front of the rain, and found the all-day news-orgy had shifted from the past to the immediate future: a pair of strong storms were heading in from Alabama, killed some people in Polk County (terrible news there), and continued almost due east at 50mph (those spring storms move FAST) in single file. The weather dudes were waxing poetic over their new technology, that allows them to build 3D models of storms and display them in different ways, and to zoom in on the immediate area and show roads and locations that were in the path of the storms. This particular storm was highly radar-genic, so they were having all sorts of fun showing us just about everything they could do. As it turned out, the really bad parts of the storms (F2 tornadoes, 2" hail, 70mph winds) went 10 miles south of us. After things died down a bit, I headed to the garage to work on the bikes.

I got the wheel back on the Virago, with only the usual difficulty plus a brain-fart (where’s the spacer? duh, I left it on the axle so I wouldn’t lose it!), then put the cargo rack on the Zook while draining old oil out of the Virago. I was about to tackle the brake pads, when Mrs. Fetched asked if I was interested in food. Being 6pm (already?), I realized I was ready to eat. Of course, Mrs. Fetched rarely delivers the whole story: we had to stop at a couple of places to pay bills. The second place was Home Depot, and we picked up a couple minor things while we were there — including a new light fixture for her closet. We ate (at Up the Creek) and then got to Office Max, five minutes before closing, to pick up card stock for Daughter Dearest’s graduation invitations.

After church, I’ll finish up the Virago brakes and wire in the heated gloves, then perhaps I’ll take a (ahem) short ride! The Boy came in with Snippet a few minutes ago, “disappointed” that he missed his shot at the chicken houses, but willing to come to church. Time to jump in the shower and get ready…

Weekend Cinema

Daughter Dearest gets a hat tip for this weekend’s flick.

I don’t know about you, but I was almost ROFL at this particular video. These guys remind me of two of my nephews, and Daughter Dearest had the same thought… and it’s definitely worth sharing the antics of the Crazy Frog Bros.

Oh, and the original video if you haven’t seen it.

(Basil) Survivor: Winter

I brought three basil plants in for the winter. As you can see, one managed to make it to spring. But it looks like it will live long enough to go back outside when it stays warm.

I’ve got plenty to do and not enough time to do any of it. At least Daughter Dearest’s car (which has been spewing oil) turned out to have the cheap problem: a bad oil sensor gasket.

FAIL, Chicken House Style

Or: How My Saturday was Shot to Hell for Me

I knew it wasn’t a good idea to agree to help with the chickens today, but Daughter Dearest and The Boy were both ready to help so I was pretty much stuck. When I got to the back of #2, one of the feed line motors wasn’t running and I assumed it was electrical. Mrs. Fetched told me different: a bolt had gotten into the feed line (sloppy maintenance at the feed mill) and we were pretty much stuck doing something about it. Amazing, how she manages to “forget” about these things until I’ve already signed up for a quick morning tour. Scope creep isn’t just an engineering plague.

After figuring out that it wasn’t electrical, we took the guard off the motor reset switch and Mrs. Fetched managed to finally make it click. “I’m going to just plug it in for a second,” she told me. “You listen and see if you can figure out where it bangs.” It took all of two rounds of that to find it. When we started looking, it was obviously b0rk3d.




Naturally, this couldn’t be close to the motor. After dorking with stuff for a while, and not solving anything, I asked Mrs. Fetched, “So what do we do?”

“We call Wesley,” she said. Wesley is a chicken house repairman — yes, there is such a thing. It requires electrical, welding, and mechanical skills, as well as a high tolerance for ammonia and dust. We broke for a late lunch (since we had a late breakfast) and Wesley showed up just as we were heading back to try to prepare for battle.




With a little help from us, they took the feed line apart at the break (it's a series of tubes, with a twisted screwy thing inside — you know, like the Internet) and pulled the auger out. We quickly found the auger was pretty seriously kinked — again, the Internet similarities are amazing. (And look! they both eat up all your free time!) After attempting to straighten it, he got the tools.





I assumed that we’d have to replace the entire auger. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Cut out the kinked part, braze in a new piece, and put it all back together. But first things first: cut the sucker. A Dremel tool with a cutting wheel did the job, with plenty of drama.





They had brought a piece of replacement auger line with them, along with a brazing rig (large oxyacetylene torch) and a jig to hold it together while putting it to the torch. The actual repair actually didn’t take very long — indeed, it was probably the quickest part of the entire procedure. Isn’t that usually how it goes?

Once the auger was repaired (and cooled off), the rest was anti-climatic. Replace the broken pipes, feed the auger line through, and hook it back up to the motor.


It’s always best to test your repairs before buttoning it all up… otherwise, something is sure to go w0rng. Fortunately, everything was doing what it was supposed to:


And that was how my Saturday afternoon went. I could think of a couple zillion things I’d rather have been doing… and at least three or four that I actually could have been doing. All indoors… it was cold and windy with snow flurries and at least the chicken houses are warm.

Odds and (week)Ends

Yet another collection of happenings and items that didn’t merit their own post. I thought that I wouldn’t have to do these anymore when I started using Twitter, but I don’t always tweet these things and sometimes there are pictures involved. I’m not sure how many of you read the Twitter box (in the margin to the right) anyway — and if your employer has weird IT people like mine does, they block Twitter and you might not be able to read them anyway. But if you join Twitter and follow me, then you’ll get up to the minute updates (when I think to send them).

I had a brief HEFOD (Hardware Engineer Freak-Out Dance) at work yesterday — fortunately, it only took a couple hours that I had to spare. I cleared a couple of major milestones this week, and several minor ones, so I’m pretty content with my work-related productivity this week.

Nine Inch Nails has released a four-CD instrumental compilation they call Ghosts I-IV. They put up the first CD in the set as a free download — I figured if I didn’t like it, The Boy probably would, and grabbed a copy. (If you tried earlier in the week, when they first announced it, they’ve added servers and bandwidth to handle the load.) I’m listening to it now; it’s definitely not what I’d have expected from NiN. I expect it will get airplay on Space Station Soma or other ambient stations before long. I’m keeping it. I doubt The Boy will be thrilled with it though.

WANT!!!
(I don’t mean the truck, or the ribbon sticker. I want the oval sticker.)

But seriously, I’ll make sure the proceeds are actually going to breast cancer research before I buy one.

Going around to visit some of my blog-buddies… stop by and wish Beth a Hippo Birdie! Meanwhile, Nancy P has gone dark until she finishes writing her next book, so send productivity vibes her way. For that matter, Beth and several other of my writing pals need some productivity vibes as well. Until Nancy’s ready to come back, Kimberly Frost is hosting the “cafe.”

Meanwhile, I’ve got some writing of my own to do (ahem FAR Future ahem), so I’ll be getting on that shortly. Actually, I wrote at least half of the next episode at lunch yesterday, and the three or four episodes after that are already written, so I’ve just got to hook it all up and I might go twice-weekly for the next two or three weeks to make up for being slow on this one. I could use a few productivity vibes as well, as long as Olga (my imaginary BSDM Muse) doesn’t decide to send too many vibes. Right now, I’m typing at a long-ish story that centers around a teenage couple and a mysterious cornfield.

Amazing, how quickly one can type (and accurately!) when squiffed. I’m actually preparing this post Friday night, but jiggered the relative dates (“yesterday” et al) to work with the actual posting time. I hope everyone has a relaxing and/or exciting weekend, depending on how you like it. Lurkers, feel free to say hello and share your weekend plans…

Weekend Cinema

Welcome back to Weekend Cinema, where you can sample both old and new, long and short (but mostly short) animations!

I didn’t even have to think about tonight’s selection — as soon as I saw it, I marked it for this weekend. So sit back, grab a handful of popcorn, and cheer on the hapless bunny who’s caught on Theme Planet…

TB02 and Other Stories

It seems like the entire blogosphere is talking about Gary Gygax’s demise. This is fortunate (the chatter, not the event, jeeeeez), because I have stuff to talk about a little closer to home. I was an avid D&D player in college, and still have all my books & figurines & so forth, but I haven’t played seriously since graduating, too long ago to comfortably think about. So after the customary moment of silence, followed by noting “DEAD-NO RES” on the character sheet and moving it to the back of the notebook…

I must have rolled snake eyes on my luck throw (or used it all up last week, more likely). Last night, we made official what I’ve suspected all week: TB02 — The Boy has come back home. AGAIN. And not by himself. There’s Snippet, of course; her mom has been living in a camper for some months (verified by Mrs. Fetched) and she is out of options, and I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of putting a 17-year-old female on the street. A happier circumstance is EJ, The Boy’s long-time friend and probably one of the better influences in his life. EJ works at the hospital and offered to pay rent (we accepted of course). Snippet, who was “home schooled” (NOT) for several years, is signing up for GED classes and Mrs. Fetched will make sure she gets to them. ;-)

Well. The nest that was getting empty has filled right back up again. Mrs. Fetched is actually happy about it, partly because we like EJ and partly because Snippet has some experience working chicken houses, and partly because The Boy really isn’t prepared for living on his own just yet. She said something to the effect that it may work out the same as with M.A.E.: after having her around for a few months, he’ll get tired of her & ditch her as soon as she (or he, as in the case previous) can find another place to go. snort Accepting her will probably help the breakup. snort Or maybe Snippet will get tired of his ego and bail on her own. Either way, they both win.

Something ugly went down at the place he & Snippet were staying, but beyond Snippet’s friend BB (a known drama queen) trash-talking The Boy, I’m not completely sure what was going on there yet. It might be once of those “ignorance is bliss” situations, so maybe I’ll just leave it at that. EJ wasn’t living with them, but there was some kind of row between EJ, his mom, and his step-dad the same weekend The Boy and Snippet came back home — not too bright on the part of the elders, as EJ was dishing over much of what he makes at the hospital. He’s actually going to come out ahead paying rent here, which should allow him to get his own car & place by summer. The Boy is looking to start working at a nearby convenience store, and also hopes to be ready to have a more permanent TB01 by July. With any luck, Snippet will be out of the picture by then.

So let’s welcome the new cast members. Feel free to start a betting pool on how long each of them will stay around.

Bad news, good news

The DSL started crapping out on me this morning around 11. Now it seems to be flaked out entirely. I’m sending this from my cellphone.

I took a brief walk a few minutes ago, and found a sprout in the pepper bed... maybe it’s a bell pepper volunteering.

Still Dim, Still Life

Life goes on, even (or especially?) when not blogging. The work that followed me home for the weekend pretty much rolled over and gave up after a few hours. That didn’t leave me a lot of free time anyway; there was wood to split & stack and chicken houses that demanded attention. But the work stuff went OK; I had some late stuff come in this morning, one sticky comment (from my boss) was deemed OK to let slide for the beta phase. I spent much of the work day today updating screen shots and verifying CLI commands; the later is not difficult but rather tedious. Things change, even when they’re not called out in the spec, so it has to be done.

On the way into work this morning, I was thinking about The Boy and his focus on things. With a little reflection, I realized his wasn’t a laser focus — more like an electron gun in a CRT. Very sharp focus, but easily deflected. Girlfriends have not been good for him… three summers ago, he had a job, a car, and good prospects. He hooked up with M.A.E.… and a year later, the job was history, the car was trashed by a criminal who thought to use it as a getaway car & put diesel in it, and he’d dropped out of school. In some ways, he hasn’t recovered from that. Interesting that when I got home, he was at the manor (and Snippet, of course). He’s going to try to get back that job he had before, and helped out a little bit (hoping for cigarette money). Mrs. Fetched told me that on the way to do some of that work, she asked him, “Are you happy with your life, the way things are going?” He didn’t answer. I hope he reflects on it. She thinks he’s not terribly thrilled with his apartment life; he told me he and EJ (and Snippet, of course) are going to try getting their own place. What he really needs to do is put her aside & redirect his focus — but being a guy, he’ll let his nuts do the thinking until he’s 30 or so.

Some consultant invited me to join his group on LinkedIn a while back. It’s a social networking site geared toward professionals, if you haven’t heard of it. On a whim, I typed in my old college roomie’s name, and there he was (waving at CS if he’s reading). We hooked up on IM today, traded pix of our kids, and commiserated about being almost 50.

The first of several “stimulus packages” is going to arrive soon: the annual work bonus. Mrs. Fetched and I have made a list of stuff we want to get taken care of, including taking care of the cars and motorcycles. I think we’ll have a fair amount left over after the essentials are taken care of, which will take care of the Spring Break vacation in Florida. Daughter Dearest’s chorus is singing at Dizzy World, and recording part of a movie soundtrack. They’re going to spend a lot of time backstage, and Mrs. Fetched is going to be there to video things. Meanwhile, we have a condo set up near Mom’s place (with Mom’s help) and I’ll have a couple of days to air it out before they finish up their “work” in Orlando and join me. But before that, Beth is coming this way for a day or so, then continuing a dizzying travel schedule that ends up in a new home in Colorado. I’ll have to make cinnamon rolls.

Speaking of rolls, a woman at our church runs a no-kill animal shelter. I don’t know how this connects, but she gets large packages of freebies from the grocery store and brings it for everyone to pick out on Sundays. I usually grab pastries or doughnuts and take them to work; plenty of engineers are happy to dispatch the goodies. What doesn’t get eaten in the meetings gets taken to a certain filing cabinet in the office, where it has a (ahem) shelf life of about two hours. I kept the coffee cake and English muffins for ourselves, though.

And speaking of bread… seeing that wheat has gone up like 40% in the last year, and is set to double in the next year, I figured this would be a good time to stock up on flour. We went to BJs, and found 20lb packs for $6.57 — about 2/3 what you’d pay at the grocery store. I bought two packs, which will last us a little while, and tossed in a 3-liter bottle of Berio olive oil. Meanwhile, the girlies wound up getting a bunch of other stuff. Daughter Dearest found Stephanie Meyer’s second book (Eclipse, hardcover for $10) and has already read it (and the first one) twice. I guess she’ll get the next one when she gets paid.

I’m hoping things will ease up a little later this week, and maybe I can get a FAR Future episode up. One more month to vacation!

FAR Future, Episode 24: Interlude

With this post, I’ll be going dim again for a while. Work followed me home this weekend. I should have the next episode up on schedule, which means “some time late next week.”

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Sunday, May 5, 2013
Interlude

It has been pretty quiet lately at FAR Manor. I wouldn’t say the calm before the storm — I hope not, anyway — but who knows these days?

The chicken houses are winding down; after they haul this bunch away (11 days, and yes I’m counting), that’s The End. We’ll use the litter for the pastures as needed; we won’t tear the houses down right away (although I have a couple of crowbars just itching to get at it) but we’ll be selling the equipment in the market bulletin… if there are any takers. Chicken ranching just isn’t what it used to be, if it ever was; the fuel required for a factory operation is killing the industry (and good riddance). Poultry companies are actually making more money selling birds to backyard operations now. A thousand homes with backyard flocks produce as much chicken as a single chicken house, give or take, and they can also provide eggs. The margins are better for the companies, they don’t have to worry about fuel subsidies, and a loose dog means more business.

The in-laws have been taking it easy for a while; Mrs. Fetched has been managing the day-to-day operations of the farm for — well, since before I started blogging, and that’s been a while. Her mom has been helping some of the county subdivisions with their community gardens; she did organic gardening before there was any other kind, so she just had to reach a little farther back in her storehouse of memories. (Did I ever mention that she helped dig a well by hand when she was a teenager? ’Tis true.) A lot of her generation, the ones left, are finding themselves quite popular these days — they remember what it’s like to live without electricity, running water, and all the other stuff we’ve taken for granted all our own lives. Even the folks with Alzheimer’s seem to do OK; researchers found out a long time ago that recreating the environment of their prime years helps them cope, and that’s pretty easy to do these days. Some of them think it’s the 1930s, and (minus Jim Crow) it could well be.

Anyway, as poultry farming has decentralized back into backyard operations, beef is becoming a luxury item. Prices are way up — some people are saying it’s going to get to the point where selling two or three cows a year could pay all the farm-related expenses (diesel fuel, taxes, feed) before too much longer. We’ve contracted to sell whatever peppers and herbs (mostly oregano) we grow to local outfits these days. Good thing… sales have dropped off at work quite a bit, what with households “consolidating,” so I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be gainfully employed. If I can survive as a gentleman farmer, especially after taking the mortgage moratorium, I don’t have a problem with that. Some of the old-timers have gone back to making moonshine, especially since it’s not as illegal as it used to be. Now I know why the Indians called it “firewater.” Whoosh.

Daughter Dearest will be done teaching classes in a couple weeks, just a few days after the chickens are gone, in fact. We’ve already opened up her old room for her, so she’ll be all set. I’m looking forward to having her around again… but I think I mentioned that.

Can you believe it’s almost summer already? We’ll be going back to rolling blackouts any day now. :-P They’ve been running PSAs almost non-stop on radio and TV, encouraging people to minimize A/C usage as the weather warms up. Those voltage sensors the power company passes out are an interesting experiment: when they get plugged in, they set a random voltage to watch for and cut off the A/C for an hour when the incoming voltage goes below that — it might be enough to stop the blackouts, or at least reduce their duration. Mrs. Fetched and I have been talking about moving our bed onto the screen porch, where we can take advantage of cooler air through the night. If we’re really careful how we use what the solar panels give us (the windmill is mostly useless from May to September), we can run the ceiling fan on low all night. I’ll probably put it on a timer, though, to cut off after a couple of hours. The vented skylight in DD’s room should help her quite a bit, as long as we leave windows and the doors to the upstairs open.

So things have been quiet for a little while. But if The Prophet is right, not for long: “The day is soon coming, Jerusalem, when your enemies of old will gather together and say, ‘We have thrown off the yoke of our king; now let us oppress the people of the city, as we did before. For we have not forgotten the old times, nor our enmity toward the people of Jerusalem.’ And when the Lord closes the heavens once again, and the land will be parched, there will be wars and rumors of wars, until He takes pity on the people and opens the heavens anew.”

Oh great. More drought.

continued…

Bumper Cars, or (Tell Me Why) I Don’t Like Mondays

When I first moved to Planet Georgia in March 1983, my first thought upon entering metro Atlanta was, “don’t these people know what traffic cops are?” In college, I watched The Dukes of Hazzard for entertainment… not realizing that people really do drive like that here.

So this morning, me and a few dozen close personal friends (none of whom I’ve met, but anyway) are all cruising down the freeway, when traffic starts knotting up. That’s not unusual. Flip the car out of gear, cover the brake, and erode the generous cushion I’ve given the car ahead of me. About the time I’d used my cushion, the cars ahead started speeding up and the cushion opened up again. I got it in gear, but I must have seen something sub-consciously that made me cautious. I accelerated, but slowly, and let the cushion build up again.

When things start getting thick like that, I try to watch as far ahead as I can — looking through windows, around, over, whatever it takes to get a read on what’s happening. I saw some brake lights again, and got ready: plenty of room in the median (I was in the left lane, passing a transfer truck) and the guy behind me was close but not drafting. This kind of scenario presents itself probably once a week, and usually amounts to nothing.

But our lucky lotto number came up this morning. Brake lights came on several cars ahead, then the guy in front of me hit his brakes hard (judging from the way his back end came up). I put one eye on him and one on the rear-view mirror, hit the brakes, and got ready to dive into the median if necessary. As the situation in front of me started sorting itself out, I saw several cars behind me weave toward the median, then saw a big cloud of steam and all hell broke loose. Two cars went into the median, and a bronze Explorer came up beside me on the right: BACKWARDS, nose to nose with the transfer truck. I bellowed a prayer, moved left, and gassed it — and God saw fit to cut me a break, because I was clear a second later. It really looked like one of those replays from a NASCAR in-car camera; one where the cars going every which way but somehow the driver in the middle of it all manages to get through it unscathed.

About a hundred yards up the road, I pulled into the median and ran back to check on the others who weren’t so lucky. There were four vehicles involved; all the drivers were on their phones or chatting amongst each other. One guy was surveying the tangled mess that was once the front end of his car, shaking his head, and making his phone call. Nobody was hurt at all, thank God, and a guy in scrubs came running across the median from the northbound side to make sure. I offered several of them an “anything I can do?” and got a chorus of “no thanks,” so I figured I should just get back to it. But I’ve smelled the radiator fluid from the smashed-up car, on and off, all day.

I really wanted to be retired by now. :-P

A Quiet Improvement

Oh grey water, keep on flowin’
Planet Georgia moon, won’t you keep on shinin’ on me…

As I’ve mentioned before, we’ve had some issues with the septic system (we’ve had to have it pumped a couple times since then). A few months ago, it occurred to me that if we could divert the non-toilet drains into an irrigation system, we could take a lot of non-essential load off the septic system and, if not solving the problem entirely, at least put off replacing the field lines. My father-in-law and I put in the field lines at our old place; it wasn’t too difficult but he no longer has a backhoe — so it’ll be a multi-thousand dollar fix now.

Since the in-laws have a handyman living & working on the farm at the moment, Mrs. Fetched’s mom decided to jump into the project with both feet… or at least toss the handyman into it. It was the work of a morning for him to punch a hole in the foundation, run a 2-inch pipe through it, and divert the kitchen and laundry room drains. I consider the job half-done — ideally, I’d like to divert everything but the toilets — but this may be all we can do practically.

This project may have also decided for me where I’ll locate the forest garden. I like the idea of using water twice, especially if we’re going to have more drought… which doesn’t seem likely at the moment, but you never can tell. I also like the idea that being less wasteful could save us some money (like with the fireplace insert). There’s still a little more work to do once I’ve figured out where the water will go, a bit of ditch-digging and pipe-laying… nothing I haven’t done before.

Weekend Cinema

A blah ending to a crappy week… but hey, blah is an improvement, right? Things are getting better going into the weekend! We hope.

I always get a chuckle out of this video, even if I don’t understand the lyrics. The only question I have is, are those Mao jackets or Meow jackets?

Lunar Eclipse [UPDATED]

Of course it would be a cloudy night,
with a lunar eclipse happening tonight!

This was the best I could do. I had better (less) cloud cover earlier, but all I had then was my cellphone and that didn't work so good.


UPDATE: About an hour and a half later, just past totality, it cleared up and I got another shot that I didn't have to fight the clouds for.

FAR Future, Episode 23: The Prophet

I’ve been debating about whether to include this episode, or just work it in sideways. But if I don’t post something, who knows how long before I’ll get the next one done? Sometimes, you just have to go with what you got.

---

Friday, April 19, 2013
The Prophet

There is a prophet in Atlanta. Or so they say.

He surfaced (is that the word?) early this year, standing and preaching on street corners like so many more before him. But some people have made a pastime of capturing his sermons with cellphone cameras, and there’s a website dedicated to gathering and collating those pieces of video. It makes for some interesting watching.

Fortunately for The Prophet’s “chroniclers,” he tends to preach the same sermon for several days, then change only parts of it. That gives them a chance to piece together most of an entire sermon. They still haven’t caught the beginning of any of them, though, so the site has to go on eyewitness reports to provide complete transcripts.

In the videos, The Prophet is a black guy, maybe 5-foot-9, and looks bulky (although that could be the coat). He has a buzz cut, a ratty trench coat, and of course he carries a Bible. He has a big knot on the right side of his forehead, like someone clubbed him a good one. In the videos, he refuses cash donations (which sent my respect for him up about six notches) but blesses anyone who leaves food or bottled water. He has a refrain when people put food or water bottles in a cardboard box at his feet: “Those who leave so much as a glass of water for the servants of God will not lose their reward.”

The mainstream preachers aren’t exactly thrilled with the attention he’s getting. The kahuna at the big Baptist church down in Atlanta gets this sour look on his face every time a TV reporter asks him about the Prophet, but he says mostly neutral stuff like “preaching The Lord’s word and doing His work is always honorable.” But there’s a big contrast that he can’t paper over, and the TV reporters don’t overlook it — the wealthier churches have set up soup kitchens where you have to go — when people give food to The Prophet, he takes it to where it’s needed. (People have followed him a few times.)

He was recently giving a 21st Century Beatitudes (cut & pasted from the site):

“Blessed are those, who open their homes to neighbors and sojourners in Jerusalem, for the Lord shall open the gates of heaven to them.” (He refers to Atlanta as Jerusalem, according to the site.)

“Blessed are those, who bring firewood to the cold, for they shall be warm in heaven.

“Blessed are those, who bring food to the hungry, for they shall feast in heaven.

“Blessed are those, who look after their neighbors, for the Lord in heaven shall look after them.

“Blessed are those, who continue to work and pay their debts, yet all debts will be erased. Their faithfulness is written in the Book of Life.

“Blessed are those, who make peace with their enemies, for they shall live without fear.

“But woe unto those who hide away from the stranger at their door! for the Lord shall shut the gates of Heaven against them!

“Woe unto those who hoard their fuel, for the fires of Hell will be bitter cold to them!

“Woe unto those who withhold their food from the hungry, for Hell shall not feed them!

“Woe unto those who say, 'I have earned my ease, let my neighbors look after themselves,' for the Lord will surely turn His back on such!

“Woe unto those who say, 'Why should I pay my debt, even though I can?' for the Lord will surely blot out the names of the faithless from the Book of Life!

“Woe unto those who take up arms against their enemies, for ever shall they live in fear of their lives!”

There are some videos of people coming to his cardboard box altar for salvation and baptism. He opens a bottle of water and baptizes them on the spot. :-) Some of them look like they're dressed pretty well, so I guess the Prophet is reaching more than just the poor in town.

Heavy stuff. I'll transcribe more if something jumps out at me.

continued…

Weekend Cinema

When you don’t have much time,
When you got you no money,
You want that Weekend Cinema
To bring you something funny!

Archive.org is a treasure trove of old stuff. Some of it you have to see to believe.

Some of you may be old enough to have seen this in school; I think they stopped showing it shortly before my time. Or maybe I blocked the memory. In any case, it’s worth looking at — first for the laugh, and then the sobering “what if” that is Duck and Cover. (10 minutes)

They have smaller versions for dialup users, although it still runs into some heft (like 10MB worth). Try one of the "64kB" links to the left if you need it.

TB01 (Maybe this one will last)

Mrs. Fetched is getting better now. [cue SFX: stadium cheer] She wasn’t quite up to prom dress shopping with Daughter Dearest as planned, but she did get out of the house with DD to pay some bills and the like. Seeing that her world of the previous 48 hours was the living room, hallway, and our bedroom (mostly the living room), this is a big improvement.

But that’s not what I’m here to tell you about. I’m here to tell you about The Boy.

The Boy, as always, was gone all last weekend. But come Monday, he didn’t show up in the evening as usual — with or without Snippet. He swung by late Wednesday evening, when I would have been at choir practice except that I was looking after Mrs. Fetched.

“I got an apartment with [two other guys],” he told me. “I’m just here to get some clothes and stuff.”

[cue SFX: stadium cheer with The Wave] TB01!

It was pretty cold that particular night, and I found his heavier jacket for him and made sure he took it along. He also picked up a loaf of bread (not a problem) and some CDs (ditto). I didn’t think to ask him if he’d found a job, and he didn’t volunteer the information. He had said last week that one of his friends’ grandparents were going to pony up for an apartment, so he may have been straight with us. If so, they could be on the hook just for food & utilities. I hope they know (or learn) how to cook. This time of year, it would be ridiculously easy to cook: buy a crock pot, dump meat & veggies in it in the morning, come in & eat it for supper. I never could get him & M.A.E. to stand still long enough to show them how to eat cheap & healthy; maybe if he comes by and complains about groceries, he’ll be willing to listen.

I really hope this works out for him. Taking care of himself will teach him responsibility more effectively than we ever could.

Mrs. Fetched is Sick

Mrs. Fetched decided this morning that she had me take her to the doctor about whatever it is she has.

He isn’t sure!

It’s not the flu, and it’s not strep throat. Probably a bacterial thing, but who knows? A couple of prescriptions and she’s actually getting some rest for a change. I just wish she was healthy and getting some rest.