Irish Woman just told me that she is putting a different ‘quilt system’ on the bed.
Now I’m sitting here wondering if this new ‘quilt system’ has been approved by OSHA and the Army Corps of Engineers.
Which IETF RFC does it fall under?
Has it gone through quality assurance and end-user testing?
Has she arranged for a change control and customer impact coordination meeting?
Budgeting shouldn’t be a problem, because she’s spent the equivalent of a generous USAID grant on quilts over the years, but has she done an environmental impact study?
Normally the “72 Hour Rule” means that you shouldn’t form or state an opinion on news of a crisis until there’s been time for things to settle down and information to become clear.
I’m beginning to think we need a “72 Hour Rule” for President Trump.
Trump says something outrageous. Press is outraged
Outrageous turns out to be true a few days later. Press is even more outraged
Next day, Trump does something even more outrageous. Conservatives are outraged.
The opponent who Trump did something outrageous to/with backs down between 3 and 36 hours later. Libertarians and Liberals are outraged. Conservatives get really quiet really quick.
False Spring is about to fade away here in Kentucky. I took advantage of nice, relatively dry weather yesterday to remove the oak leaves and trash the folks who drive through my neighborhood throw out the car window out of the culvert under our driveway.
Soon, the spring rains will come, turning my front yard into both a river and a swamp. I just wish it would drown out the moles.
I also trimmed the goldenrod in your front yard. I would have cut it down and set the stump on fire while dancing around it naked, but Irish Woman said it did a good job of making the yard ‘pretty’.
Note to self – Deep clean the bathroom after giving the dogs a bath.
Last weekend it was thunderstorms, thunderstorm, floods, and black ice. Now, it’s so nice and warm outside that I’ve shut off the furnace and opened the windows. It’ll probably be cold and miserable in a week or so.
Welcome to ‘spring’ in Kentucky.
My arthritis and seasonal allergies are both just overjoyed at this swing.
Looking at how things are back home, I really shouldn’t complain. North Dakota had lows in the negative 30’s last week, and will have highs in the positive 60’s this week. That’s a 90 degree swing in just a few days.
Well, the job search has swung into gear. Checking job boards daily, talking to a couple of contracting companies, and keeping my ear to the ground.
The job market for cleaning the house, cooking and baking, and playing with the dogs is a bit thin these days. I’m having to branch out a bit.
Irish Woman has been patient for almost five years, but this weekend she started painting the interior of the house. I have given my input, and the choices of light tan-gray, light green-gray, and ‘useful gray’, whatever that means, have been approved.
I only have two color palettes – The 8 pack of Crayola Crayons and Woodland BDU.
I did stand my ground on no oh-my-eyes-that’s-bright jewel tones nor you-can-see-this-from-orbit yellows. Blue in any shade was right out.
She’s also making noises about removing/replacing the columns between the kitchen and living room, and keeps mumbling “wainscoting” under her breath. Pray for me.
Note to self – Before applying furniture oil to a the liquor cabinet, make sure there’s a drop cloth under it, especially if the liquor cabinet is sitting on the living room carpet.
Note to self – Look up how to get cherry-stained lemon oil out of carpet.
Our old solid oak dining room chairs are getting rather long in the tooth, so I thought I’d renew the glue in the joints.
Note to self – Check to see if the joints are pinned with nails before trying to work them loose.
Note to self – Research a good source for replacing oak chair parts now that you’ve ripped the ends off of several leg supports.
When you plan for a weekend getaway in Indiucky in February, you cannot plan for the weather.
Make sure you have contingencies for rain, snow, hail, and frogs falling from the sky.
Note to self – Work on your facial expression when told that the breakfast buffet was $21 a person. Also, do not ask if for that price you are given your choice of pig the bacon is cut from and which chicken lays the eggs.
While enjoying a delicious meal in a delightful little German restaurant, pay no mind to the marching music coming from the dining room speakers. They don’t mean it that way.
Also, waitresses in southern Indiana may have a hard time when you pronounce the names of the dishes with a semi-Bavarian accent.
It’s “Potato Pancakes” not “Kartoffelpuffer”
Being able to pronounce “Kasespaetzle” doesn’t help. Just say “Cheese noodles”
She did, however, know what I meant when I said “Oktoberfest” when asked what kind of beer I wanted.
Having two liters of good German beer with dinner, then going to the souvenir shops across the street can get expensive.
Luckily for me, Irish Woman kept me out of the casino after two liters of good German beer. At least I exchanged hard-earned money for a carved wooden bear, instead of just pouring it into a table or machine with blinking lights.
A sign that building standards were different in the 1900’s is that we stayed on the top floor of a 150 year old hotel this weekend and I didn’t hear the ferocious thunderstorm that came through last night.
Wild Turkey Rare Breed might have had something to do with that, but I’m going to give credit to the quality of our accommodations.
That being said, the continual phone calls and text messages from the Louisville emergency service made sure I didn’t miss a thing.
Note to self – When trying a less expensive local cafe for breakfast, control your facial expressions when you discover that their coffee tastes like iodine and old turnips and their omelets are overcooked in one aspect, undercooked in another, but are still tasteless.
Stopping at a rural gas station to obtain caffeine means overlooking the hollow glass ‘flowers’ that are next to the vape cartridges at the checkout.
After the thunderstorm, it started snowing. So, in addition to flooded two-lane highways, we had black ice and freezing slush to make the drive home stimulating.
Last week, I posted about crossing both the Red River of the North between North Dakota and Minnesota and the Red River between Oklahoma and Texas.
Imagine my surprise when I crossed the Sabine and Pearl Rivers multiple times apiece on the same day.
Whoever designed the roads in Texas and Louisiana needs to report for ‘random’ drug testing.
The city fathers of Houston need to be told that the 2020 census is over. They can stop blocking travelers on the freeway in an attempt to pump up their numbers for representation.
Not sure what’s going on with Houston, but my car was relatively clean when I started across that city, but was so dirty when I got to the other side that windshield washing fluid wasn’t able to cut through the grime. Had to pay a tithe to Buccees and go through the world’s longest car wash in order to see out my back window again.
For some reason, after directing me to drive directly across Houston, the magical elf box in the car advised me to get off of I-10 and drive around Beaumont, Texas. This put me on a path through Port Arthur and other out of the way spots.
Not complaining, mind you. It was good to break the monotony and see somewhere I’d never been.
I do have to ask, though: How bad is traffic in Beaumont that I got warned off, but Houston was tolerable to the navigation software?
While sitting in the traffic jam across the Mississippi River, I noticed that the bridge was humming and moving rather rhythmically. Problem was that my side of traffic wasn’t moving, and the other side of traffic was moving intermittently. I’m still not sure what caused the bridge to move like that, but I’m glad I got across before I found out.
While driving across America’s heartland, you see the unfortunate remains of animals being struck by traffic. On this trip, deer were most common. Occasionally, I saw a coyote frozen to the side of the road. In Oklahoma, I saw several armadillos, which was probably not good for whatever hit it. Heck, in Texas I saw a HUGE wild pig whose final resting place was tastefully decorated with pieces of a Toyota.
Nothing, however, will ever compare to the eldritch abominations I saw on the elevated sections of the highway in Louisiana. I’m pretty sure they were mammals at once time, because they tended to be at least a little fuzzy, but other than that, I can’t figure out their taxonomy.
As part of my trip, I pledged to get the Young Prince a few tee shirts as souvenirs. I was ‘advised’ to not get him college tee shirts, especially anything from Southeastern Conference sports teams, by She Who Shall Not Be Named. Apparently, she still bleeds Kentucky Wildcat blue to some degree.
So, anyway, Boo got tee shirts from LSU, Auburn, Texas A&M, and the University of Texas.
I may need a safe house for a couple of weeks. Any offers?
I had an adventure in temperature and weather swings this week.
It was 40 degrees and raining in Kentucky when I climbed in the car.
It was -20 degrees and blowing snow drifts across the highway when I drove across North Dakota going west.
It was 30 degrees and snowing sideways when I drove across North Dakota driving east.
It was almost 50 degrees and sunny when I pulled into the hotel parking lot in Texas
Ouch, my joints
Driving is just a series of decisions.
Do I pass the semi that is going 1 mile under the speed limit when there is a state trooper behind me?
Do I slow down and put on my caution blinkers when the snow storm swirls so bad I can’t see the two semis in front of me anymore?
Do I stop in Omaha after a nice day driving across America’s heartland, or do I test my manhood and go another 3 hours just to show I can?
Do I listen to political podcasts to wile away the hours, or do I blast 80’s rock and sing along at the top of my lungs for 300 miles?
Crossing the Red River of the North to get gas in Minnesota because I missed the exit in Fargo and don’t want to lose time by going back, then crossing the Red River to go from Oklahoma to Texas 24 hours later was kind of surreal.
It’s all fun and games until you zip your beard into your jacket.
Note to self – being smart and laying out an extra sweatshirt to wear in the car so you don’t have to wear your jacket while driving only works if you remember to pick up the sweatshirt before leaving the house.
Supplementary note – Truck stop sweatshirts are quite pricy and smell sort of funny.
Note to the Wendy’s in South Dakota – Hamburger buns aren’t supposed to be crunchy.
Today marks the 2 week mark after leaving my day job. Been keeping myself busy doing little projects around the house, digging out from the snow storms, and cooking.
Started the job search already. Not a lot out there yet, but I don’t have to grab the first thing that comes along, either. Worst case scenario, I find something ‘good enough’ in February or March, and continue the search.
For now, it’s good to just decompress and get myself together. It’s been the better part of a decade since I had much spare time and energy.
Dinner tonight is glazed ham, country-style green beans (onions and ham, slow cooked), home-made macaroni and cheese, and gingerbread made with fresh grated ginger for dessert.
I’m currently sitting in the living room, looking out on the snowbanks, and trying not to EAT ALL THE THINGS BECAUSE THE HOUSE SMELLS DELICIOUS.
Cooking and baking has always been something I enjoy. Heck, even doing the dishes and folding the laundry has been nice for the past couple of weeks. Not sure I could do this forever, but being a temporary house-husband for a couple of months might just be the therapy I need.
Me not working is taking some getting used to. There are these two people who live in the same house as me, and one of them looks a heck of a lot like me. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them somewhere before.
They’re having to get used to seeing me outside of runs to the coffee pot and microwave.
The dogs, on the other hand, think this is great. They get hot and cold running pat-pats, treats at least two times a day, and even the occasional nap while I putter around the hours.
My sense of humor is returning, as is my ability to write more than a few words at once. It’s an amazing what not staring at a computer screen and talking on the phone for 10 to 14 hours a day, coupled with more than four hours of sleep a night, will do.
Finally got the last of last week’s ice chipped off of the driveway. The mercury rose above freezing for about 12 hours, and we took advantage of the tropical heat wave to clear our escape route. If you ever need a good overall body workout and stress reliever, get yourself a scraper and 3 to 4 inches of packed ice on cold concrete.
It finally got chilly enough for me to call it cold last night. Since this is the sort-of-south, we’ll have to start letting our kitchen sink drip overnight for the next few days. If we ever remodel, I’m going to invest quite a bit on insulation. At the moment, it feels like our exterior walls are insulated with two raccoon pelts, half a bale of sub-standard cotton fluff, and a case of off-brand single-ply shop towels.
If you ever feel smug about how well you keep your house clean, pull your dryer out. That’ll humble you right quick.
The spent shotgun shell and multiple drywall screws I found at the core of the lint ball blocking the dryer vent tells me that I need to do a better job of checking pockets before running the laundry.
It’s amazing how much difference a few ounces of lemon-scented oil, an old wash rag, and half an hour of effort can make to an old piece of wood furniture. Irish Woman has a fascination with furniture made from large chunks of heavy trees, so I think I’ll be spending a bit of time making things shiny in the near future.
Been working 16+ hour days all week. Thursday started at 4:30 AM and ended at 7 AM on Friday, then I was too wired from coffee to go to sleep, so I was up until noon.
Slept for about 8 hours, then was woken up because She Who Shall Not Be Named was worried about my health.
Since then, all of the social interaction Lady Voldemort has been denied is being released all at once. It’s like all the conversation for the last 144 hours has been bottled, carbonated, shaken up, then shotgunned in the Beer Funnel of Marital Interaction.
I’m nodding, yawning, and trying to find a way to go back to bed.
DaddyBear’s Den 