Thursday, November 16, 2017

Food... my favourite.

Well,  it's that time of year again.  And no,  I'm not talking about football,  American Thanksgiving (always good for football)  or even "Trench Warfare".

That was originally going to be one of the titles I was going to use,  if I ever got around to actually saying something.



This has been a little "project" that has been occupying a bit of my time in the last little while.  I kept thinking I'd rent a machine,  but with the ground being wet,  and not having any particular deadline looming,  I just kept digging by hand.

Way back in the day,  my nephew and I had poured a concrete walkway around the garage side of the house,  and I chose to have the downspout feed into a clay pipe that we installed underground.
Of course,  prior to having the work done in 2014 (Soffits,  fascia,  troughs and gutter guards)  all of the eaves troughs were subject to getting filled with crap every year,  and Muggins here had to go up on a ladder and clean them out.
We don't do that anymore.
Meanwhile though, my handy little culvert ended up getting plugged up after some 20 years,  and when it really came down hard,  I was getting a wee bit of water coming into the garage.
No bueno.

So,  I had to dig 'er up. 

With a combination of pressure washer and wet vac,  it's all cleared out,  new weeping tile has been installed,  along with a whack of gravel,  and the hole has mostly been filled in.




Oh,  the patio stone there is only so nobody steps into the trench between digging episodes.

I'll continue to dig a trench along where those lines are in the pic above,  as I need to install a new water line out to the shed.   There was an "incident" when we were away overseas,  and the old line is somewhat buggered.   It ain't below frost,  and that's all I'll say.

Mind you,  and I didn't take any more pics of this,  I now have a bit more dirt left over that I'll have to deal with.  Weeping tile and gravel take up a certain amount of space it seems.
  *groan*


It can sit there for a while.

The reference to "Food" above is due to the fact that,  for the first time since dinner time Tuesday night,  I can eat again. 
See,  on my Mom's side of the family,  we have a certain 'history'.   She had a colostomy for the last 15 or so years of her life,  and her brother Ernie (Ernest is my middle name,  he and Dad were best buddies)  also ended up with a colostomy for the last days of his life.  He passed away in the spring of the year I was born.

Not something to be ignored.   

So,  you can probably guess the rest.  No food.  A vile liquid.  Staying mighty close to the loo.   Ya,  like that.

This time around,  the nurse must have given me a primo dose of the requested knock-out drug,  'cause I don't remember a damned thing.  And that was exactly the outcome I was hoping for!
Bad enough you have to go through the "prep",  I'd just as soon not witness the rest.  

Travelling Companion stuck around to drive me home from the hospital,  and then it was time to eat.

Now,  there's a "word to the wise"  here, and this comes from having done this a few times, (hey,  I seem to be able to grow polyps like nobody's business)  the vile medicine that's in  your system to make it all *happen*,  is still lurking around later in the day after you get home.  What that means is,  (and I'm speaking from experience here)  don't just think you can scarf down everything in sight.

Moderation kids!   

Otherwise,  you may just have to excuse yourself half way through your very expensive Chinese dinner and head for the nearest Euphemism.   It's a little vexing to crap out forty bucks worth of Chinese food,   let me tell ya.

Your mileage may vary,  but I'm just saying.

And that's the lesson for the day.

Keep that stick on the ice,  and thanks for stopping by.

Cheers.







Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Just....stuff.

I keep thinking of things "to share",  which is almost as bad as some of the nonsense folks put on other forms of social media (Book of Face comes to mind,  no names please)  but then most times I just figure, "Really, who da f**k cares?"   But here goes.

I get these....ideas,  let's just say?  There always seems to be something or other that needs taking care of and admittedly,  there are things that I still haven't gotten around to doing.  Like,  since last year maybe?  Stumps to remove.  Fences to install.

But once in a while,  I just want to do something for just....me.

For a number of years now,  I've had what amounts to a "parts cart"  hanging around in my garage er,  *shop*.   Back in the pre-internet days,  when there were these things called "books",  I used to read about how to, you know,  do things?

And some guy somewhere had this idea that you should move stuff around on wheels.   Considering I like to put the car in there over the winter say,  I like having things on wheels anyway,  so I came up with this:





Which of course,  gets loaded up with nothing anywhere close to "parts" of a project,  but just a bunch of other *stuff*.





The blue tote has painting stuff,  like drop cloths and such,  and the other "stuff" is tool boxes.

As you can well see,  this thing isn't (well, *wasn't*)  all that pretty,  so I decided to come up with something new and improved.

Admittedly,  this did take me a bit longer than I had really wanted,  but then what else is new?

This is the replacement:


Somewhat fancier?  Also on wheels,  and meeting the maximum height of twenty-nine and a half inches,  so it'll fit in under the end of the bench.


Much easier on the eyes,  and hopefully easier to keep clean, with a compartment in the top:






I used some plastic laminate that I've had hanging around for a very long time for the top,  as glue doesn't stick to it,  and the rest is melamine with oak trim.

The idea is,  the top bit had to be deep enough for "stuff":





And this is how I fritter away my time.

Oh,  and this:


Um,  it's a log splitter....

Which results in this:




I have a smaller version,  which is capable of splitting stuff up to about maybe 18 inches.   Much bigger than that though and it starts to complain.   So I had to break down and rent something from Home Despot.  Worked like a charm,  especially since the ram moves vertically,  meaning there was no need to hoist those huge honkin' things up onto the carriage. 
My nephew came over and was a big help (Um,  he's a firefighter,  you figure it out) and when we finished up here,  we took the machine up to his Mom's place and sorted out the remains of a walnut tree we had cut down a few years back.
The only slight consideration? 
With such s short tongue length,  it was murder backing the thing up.  Couldn't see the thing in the mirrors,  so I had to rely on the back up camera on the truck  (yes,  there's a back up camera)  but that wasn't all that much help.   By the time it looked like the thing was going cock-eyed,  it would be too late.
Whatever.  I managed.


Oh....and I do make the odd thing now and again for Travelling Companion.

She had this concern (question?)  about these "hoops" that go with her embroidery machine, so we came up with the idea of hanging them on the wall,  thus:







Had paint left over from the bathroom trim,  so that's where that came from.  Seems to work.
It's kind of a carry over from the way one mounts tools in a tool cabinet.  Like that.


It's been a couple weeks since Thanksgiving.  The weather was most cooperative I must say.   Some years it's down right miserable,  and there was some rain Saturday morning, but then it cleared up when it needed to,  and the whole weekend was fabulous.  You might have seen a sunset pic I put on the Book of Face.


You get the idea.


I think that's about it.

Anything else is old news at this point.

Keep that stick on the ice,  and thanks for moving your eyes back and forth.



Friday, September 29, 2017

Fighting with the wasps.

By that I mean,   the little "yellow jackets" that are out in full force this time of the year looking for...whatever.   Sweets?  Nutrients?  A date with a flyswatter?



Anyway,  I managed to harvest the remainder of our grapes yesterday.  Not as big an offering as we'd like,  due to the incursion of the little masked bandits,  but we (well,  I say "we",  but really mean T.C.)  can make a few small jars of grape jelly.





At least at this point I've figured out what measures I need to take next year in order to keep the critters on the ground.   I'm hanging on to a couple of the contraptions,  that I'll simply re-install at the appropriate time next season.



Then it was time for nine holes of golf with T.C.





That's actually my "happy face".   No,  really.

We didn't completely suck.   I only lost one golf ball,  which is typically the means by which I measure my success or lack thereof.   It's those damned water hazards.   Some sort of mental block.   I did manage to nicely shoot over one hazard on the way out,   only to plunk one in to the adjacent pond on the way back (sigh).


And considering I found a pack of three brand new balls on that course a couple weeks back,  my golf ball inventory count was actually on the plus side.

This is how we measure success.  Lame,  I know.


That's it for today.  Short and sweet.

Thanks for stopping by.