We’ll keep that in mind, but it’s been very dry here, so I’m not terribly worried about mud just yet. Along about November, that might get to be a problem.
Skilled electricians are in demand almost everywhere nowadays.
I agree with VanGo’s warning. While it is a lot of fun to get out on the bad roads, newby jeep owners really should go with a group. We tried to always have people with us when we did stoopid shit. While we never actually went belly up, it was good to know that we would have help available if we did.
Good morning! West of the Cascades trends more blue in OR/WA, or we wouldn’t have lived there.
Ironically, I tweaked my knee moving boxes upstairs on the last move, so the house with stairs may or may not remain feasible. I assume there are 1-2 more moves and that the next would be to a condo with an elevator, or to a smaller condo should my lovely wife predecease me. Could be an efficiency condo in Canada and one in the US or elsewhere, depending how the nation goes.
I was up in the night with an unpleasant gastric experience, so I’m planning to take it easy today and eat bananas, rice, apple sauce, and toast. I need to outline an author talk I’m giving this week and decide which sections I’m reading. It’s hot again, so I’ll also be spot-watering (should I call that NOS-watering?) in the yard.
Landed at LaGuardia a half hour ago and still waiting for a gate. We’ve been sitting on the tarmac longer than we were in the air.
It hurt during. It also hurt after but I took 1000 of acetaminophen and its lessening.
So I started in smalls, till I got sent somewhere else. “Outbound table or something” - Smalls Sup. So I had to track down a FT sup with a radio, to find out I was in the Mez. But there was no work up there, because the belt from Secondary was flipped off, so I had to yell to the 300 table sup. I work for a logistics company that moves hundreds of thousand of packages a day. Shouldn’t someone keep track of which switches are off, and have a better communications protocol than screaming at people 40 yards away. but I digress. So all the shift’s work comes down the belt at once, including a couple hundred Surepost packages that needed data entry. I was up there past the point where they shut down the belts, so I had 100 packages that needed to be run. And somebody in Secondary and the 300 table apparently skipped Sesame Street AND kindergarten, because they sent a huge number of 200 Boxline boxes to the 300, and the 300 table people put the in the cages without looking at the label. So the entire building was in a state well beyond FUBAR at this point. No one was doing HazMat, it took an hour to get a train to get the missorts, and the few people scheduled mostly left at the end of the usual shift. And when I went to the slide to help, I was on the work station with the dodgy computer, and no fan blowing on me, the one ice machine blew a gasket, so there was standing water everywhere, and it felt like working in the Fire Swamp, minus the ROUS(and RDOS). They delayed the drivers 45 minutes, and they had to finish loading their own cars. Oy. Glad it’s not my circus.
As far as moving, I’ve been here since 2009, and I’d like to stay here as long as possible, but since it’s an apartment, you never know.
Hope the GI issues resolve themselves, susan.
“My phone’s otter corrupt is full of shirt.”
But in regards to last week’s MMP, “Screaming O” because her name is Opal, and she tends to yell a lot.
So cricket people drink like curling people. 
I got the cheap one that makes OK ice. But when it shuffles off the mortal coil, I’m getting one that makes the Good Ice.
JtC Nice rack. 
No seriously, I have one very similar. Not having to dig through cupboards is great. Mine doesn’t have the lid bit, so I built a lid rack to hang on the wall.
I do not wish to hear about moving, especially because I’m going to have to do it in the foreseeable future. This two-story house with yards and gardens is no longer for an Old Fart like me, who is as likely as not to fall headlong down the stairs someday soon. And this will be the most difficult move ever, because of the amount of stuff I’ll have to dispose of, including a basement-full of old furniture and endless miscellaneous crap.
Word of advice. If you’re gonna move, don’t schedule it for near Labour Day. I had a move coming up once just after Labour Day, and as I was desperately trying to get everything packed, the lyrics of Jimmy Buffet’s Come Monday kept running through my head:
Headin’ out to San Francisco
For the Labor Day weekend show
I got my Hush Puppies on
I guess I never was meant for glitter rock ‘n’ roll
And honey, I didn’t know that I’d be missin’ you so
All I could think of was happy family get-togethers and backyard barbecues happening all over, enjoying the waning days of summer, and here I was taping up boxes and surrounded by an ungodly mess and the imminent arrival of the moving van.
Pretty much all of my moves have been to someplace that was better or at least more suitable than the previous one, but it was still enough to make me cry. For many of us, moving is one of life’s greatest stresses.
Coppertone: glad you’re back and survived your ordeal. Sorry it hurt but it sounds like not too awful. At least it only gets better from now.
susan: best of luck with tummy-calming and talk-planning.
Doggio: As I’ve said, I swear they’re trying to make your plant fail.
Oh. How boring. I was hoping for a much better story. More like this one:
Back in Vegas I owned a small company with about 30 folks who worked answering phones and doing customer service type work on the PC in front of them. Not highly skilled, not highly paid, but well above the minimum wage. The crew were sweet; we hired no jerks. But they were a little rough-hewn if you will. The common clay of the New West. Not stupid; just uncultured. Most, but not all, were women.
Sometimes it was crazy busy and sometimes it was not at all. Then the crew mostly sat around their communal workrooms yakking with one another or went outside to smoke or to the breakroom to eat or drink. This was years before they’d each have had a personal phone to peck at. The WWW, much less smartphones, was still in the future.
One afternoon a lull in the action came to an end and now everybody was busy. But two desks were empty that should not have been. Where did they go? The shift super was dispatched to find our missing troops before the call backlog got out of sight.
Yep. Out back shagging in the dumpster. One he, one she goin’ at it with gusto. Our dumpsters contained only shredded office paper and some flattened cardboard boxes so were actually not bad impromptu sex spots. Kind of an overgrown rodent cage with torn paper bedding. Soon they were back at their stations with lots of bits of shredded paper still clinging to clothes and hair.
Anyhow, thereafter she was known as “Dumpster Bunny” and he was “The Trashman”. Sometimes people get the names they deserve. 
Your “Screaming O” deserves a better backstory.
In 2001, when I saw this two-story, 4-bedroom, 3-bathroom(!) house, I felt like it was definitively Home. I was 40, my kids were 8 and almost 12, and stairs didn’t even enter into the calculation except that we all thought they were neat! There was an open floor plan downstairs and roomy private spaces upstairs, a small room for office space and the occasional houseguest. I was able to set up the household desk and computer in a place that wasn’t too busy but still made it possible to glance
after hiding out in the flat for the weekend, there were brief forays within the building, i have gone “outside”. very briefly, a few steps to the shuttle, half a block to the office building, then a half a block to the bank and back. it is humid with a big h.
the cats and i had a lovely weekend of not doing much. they seemed to like that. koritza had a quick appt. to get a quick shot on friday. i took her in the pram so she wouldn’t get overheated. after that i did not set foot out until this morning.
what is good ice? i don’t have an ice maker. i do love fun ice cube trays and molds. this weekend was heavy on the palm tree and flamigo shaped ice. they set up quickly.
i moved from a 2 story late 1800’s row home to a one bedroom condo. hopefully i will be able to stay here for quite some time. i don’t see a move unless i win a lot of lottery money or something serious happens.
i have found from my mother and other relatives that you need to have a bathroom on the main floor if you want to age in easily. the 2 story house had a very small bathroom on the second floor. that did not work well when stair navigation became problematic.
if i had the money to remodel the house and put a toilet and sink on the first floor, then i may have stayed in the house. it was better to sell and go with a condo.
Afternoon all. Shopping has been done and sammich is assimilating, so when I finish this I’ll change and head off to the gym to get my backstroking in. 94F now so from house to car to gym and back will be my only outdoor exposure.
My ice maker is in the freezer door of my refrigerator, so far it seems to make acceptable ice, my water is pretty good here.
Coppertone, at least it is done. Hope you stop hurting soon.
Boo fae, sounds like you had a great weekend and I concur, getting the battery changed is probably a positive idea.
Sounds like Nirvana. And the pan rack looks nice, I really don’t have a space for it in my kitchen, but it would be a nice thing to have.
doggio, it seems amazing to me that anything gets delivered from that place to the addressee; understand why you need a drink after that.
wolfie, hope the foreseeable move works out for you.
Pilot, love your stories; that was a good one.
Legend, for me it was 1997 and I must have been in around 15-20 houses shopping, a couple would have done ok but I didn’t like the location or the layout or something. Then I came to this one, it was only 90% done but 3 minutes after I walked in I knew it was the place for me. So like you, I found a Home.
Ok, need to pick the swimsuit (I have 3 of them) and head out to work off the Jersey Mike’s #3 calories. Take care.
I buy ice. I laugh when I see printed on the bag “ice is food.” I also laugh when I see the emergency ice truck. Like who has an ice emergency??? People who do covert organ removal in the bathtub???
Thank you, that was a great story.
IMHO: Little-bitty bits instead of giant half-circles, made with filtered water so there’s no weird off flavors.
See also: Sonic drive-thru (if they exist wherever you are) I think of them as the textbook example.
Gentleman Caller was supposed to come over the other night, totally bailed without notice, and now has me on “read” (he’s seeing my messages but not responding, and won’t answer my calls) and I haven’t decided yet just how p!$$ed off I feel about being ghosted.
But if someone suitably good-lookin’ and LOCAL I am DONE with this out-of-town nonsense came along, I’d be happy to hook up, so I guess there’s my answer.
It’s hyoomid here, too, after all the rain lately, and I have zero appetite and am basically living on Popsicles. Plus weed and cheap booze. It’s my Blessed Day Off, dammit, and I plan to get ezzactly zero accomplished.
Oh, yeah, and I had a no-joke hot flash early this morning. Sweating so hard it was dripping off my ears onto my shoulders … as it was raining outside, and the irony was not lost on me.
Monkey has caught a few sky raisins and is heading down the basement stairs for a nap, and I’m hanging with Coolio and y’all.
Wifey, RN discovered a problem with her brakes a week or so ago, and got an appointment with the local mechanic to have them fixed. The issue is that the brakes ‘pulse’ when she uses them, and really pulsed when she had to make a quick stop. Maybe it’s the ABS, but I’m guessing a warped rotor. She also picked up a screw in her left-rear tire the Thursday. It’s holding air for quite a while, but needs to be fixed. Unfortunately, the mechanic doesn’t do tires. She can get it repaired free at Les Schwab or where she bought the tires (Discount Tires?). Anyway, the Nursemobile is down for maintenance. She’s driving my Prius today. If it’s not fixed today, she’ll have to drive the Jeep tomorrow because I have to go down to Burien.
Hehehe! Our last one didn’t have lid holders which was annoying. The sellers left a big wood display cabinet hanging on the kitchen wall. She used to display decorative plates and platters. We are not her, so planned hang the pan rack there. Once we got it down, we learned to our dismay that the big reason the sellers left it was because it hadn’t been painted under.
A couple of weeks ago, we would have just painted that wall. This is not then and our patience is starting to run a little thin. Hubs is going to Lowe’s for some bead board paneling (the sheets are framed) that we will hang to cover the bare wall and pretend we put it up so we didn’t damage the wall with our heavy stainless steel pans. They have pre-painted stuff that will match the kitchen cabinets, so I think it will suit us until I’m over the move and wanting to redecorate.
Start now. I’m serious, pack up a box a box every day and take a trip to the thrift store every week. You really won’t make any money trying to sell your old furniture but if you give it away for free, you can make the new owners come and take it away for you. If you have any big pieces of wood furniture, ask your local high school if the wood shop class would like it.
Eight years ago, we had a big mahogany table that we didn’t want to move (wouldn’t fit) and the shop teacher dropped everything to come and get it. He said his students don’t often have the chance to work with nice wood because it was so expensive and that our table would probably turn into a dozen or more jewelry boxes.
Oh ick. I hope your BRAT diet helps enough that you can concentrate.
It is crushed ice, you can use it for Margarita’s or just for making your water colder than cold. It is quieter to chew on, so not so annoying.
Agreed! I have made whoopie in many an unusual spot, somehow doing it in a dumpster never seemed appealing.
I am so sorry. Drink lots of ice water. If you are somewhere in front of people and you soak your shirt in sweat, have a water accident and pour water on your chest. This will allow you to pretend your shirt is only wet because of the water. Nobody will fall for it, but sometimes denial is best.
I had assumed that we would move back to the U.S. after retiring. Even started making some virtual wish lists of what we should be looking for.
Yep, assumption. Hubby doesn’t want to move. He likes being here and having all the conveniences of being here. Public transportation that works. Two different grocery stores within 5 minute walk, with another one within 10 minutes and 2 more within 15 minutes. Health care is good. Pretty mountains. And our place is all on the same floor, except the basement which is reachable with an elevator.
So we’re likely staying put. At least for now. If someone had asked me 25 years ago where I expected to be now, I wouldn’t have said here. No one knows what the future might bring.
Ice cubes are heart-shaped, but those are only for cocktails. Other beverages are drunk at tap temperature (water), fridge temperature (coke and sparkling water, sometimes beer) or heated up. As it is 26°C/80°F, heated beverages are only for the overly chilled office.
Speaking of beverages, it’s time for food and drink. Night!
I just found our pasta bowls. They were in the same cabinet as the plates. I’ve got to be getting close!
Plus that’ll help you win the wet t-shirt contest.
Man, it looks like I had some kind of emergency in the middle of my last post! The phone rang, and in my haste to pick up the call, I hit the “Reply” button. It’s one of the many perils of using my phone instead of the laptop. I should break down and get a laptop I don’t hate.
In the past 23 years, we’ve planted seven trees. During the pandemic, we put up a gazebo and created a couple of really nice outdoor spaces where we can gather with friends or just commune with nature, so I’m looking at ways to make the stairs safer for aging in place. We’ve installed a sturdier hand rail and instituted a rule that no one over 60 is allowed to carry heavy or bulky things upstairs - one hand on the rail at all times!
Pilot, the story of your first wife really resonates with me. Mr. L was diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer in 2021. The 5-year survival rate for someone with bone mets is around 30%. However, he’s responded really well to treatment, so we just keep telling ourselves that someone has to be in that 30%; why not him? We’ve already measured for a stair lift and we have plans to widen some doorways before he actually needs wheelchair access. Moving might be easier, but it would be a real wrench.