I have been trying for the past several days to come up with a word to describe my bride, my best friend, my partner for life.
Saint comes to mind, and it's accurate, if a little threadbare. She probably qualified for sainthood in the first year or two of our marriage, trying to come to grips with the quirks and foibles of someone who was certainly a less than optimum choice.
She stuck with it, and with me. Thank God she did.
I took the money I earned and bought a 1960 Plymouth Valiant station wagon. Still one of the ugliest vehicles ever manufactured, but it had a slant six engine that was darn near bullet proof.
Prior to 1965, Chrysler used left-hand (reverse thread) lug nuts on the driver's side of their cars. This was left over from the days when wagon wheels only had a single nut holding them on the axle. Using reverse thread nuts on the left side of the wagon kept them from unscrewing as the wagon went down the road. Once car manufacturers went to multiple lug nuts, reverse threads were no longer necessary, and really didn't make much sense.
A few months after I got it, the old Valiant lost a spindle on the way home, the right front wheel took off across a pasture, and I spent the weekend scouring junkyards for a replacement. I didn't think about it at the time, but the one that broke was on the right and the replacement I found came from the left side of a car. It worked fine for years after I replaced it, but I probably had the only car around with left handed lug nuts on three of the four wheels.
How many reindeer does Santa have?
How many?
Ten.
Ten???
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, Rudolf, and Olive.
Olive?
You know. Like the song - "Olive, the other reindeer..."
For the past several years, I have posted pics of ugly Christmas sweaters and at least one out-of-the-mainstream Christmas song. Pickings were pretty slim this year, so I've combined the two...
And this sweater that defines 2020...
The communications company and the broadcaster failed to reach a new agreement resulting in more than 60 stations lost on DirecTV, AT&T U-verse and the AT&T TV streaming service.
AT&T places the blame on Tegna, which has more than 60 TV stations in 51 markets and reaches 39% of all U.S. TV households.
"In the midst of an ongoing pandemic, TEGNA is demanding the largest rate increase we have ever seen, and intentionally blacking out its most loyal viewers," the company said in a statement to USA TODAY. "We challenge TEGNA to return its local stations immediately while we finalize a new agreement and pledge to pay TEGNA retroactively whatever higher rates to which we eventually agree. We share our customers’ frustration, appreciate their patience and intend to do all we can to resolve this matter soon."
Unlike many of our neighbors, we have an antenna for use in inclement weather, so we can still watch Channel 11 whenever we want to.
I do miss being able to pause the program and fast-forward through commercials.
Most of the time, I'm satisfied with Microsoft and Windows 10, but once in a while it really ticks me off. This past weekend is an example.
When I shut my computer down Saturday evening, I selected the Update and Shut Down option. When I logged on Sunday morning, I had lost everything in Outlook - no Contacts, no Calendar, no Notes and none of the files I had created to hold correspondence related to flood damage etc.
I do back up my computer - not as often as I should, but probably more often than you do.
Once I logged into One Drive, I could see my Contacts file out there on the cloud, but nothing I tried would let me move it back where it belonged.
Finally in desperation, early this morning I crossed my fingers and did a System Restore. Luckily it worked and Outlook is back to normal.
My version of Windows lets me delay, but not eliminate, updates. There are programs to download that will supposedly let you stop them entirely. I haven't done that yet, but I'm leaning that way.
I promised to let you know, and yesterday's seafood feast surpassed expectations. The only thing wrong was that there wasn't enough.
The most exciting thing to happen at the old Boggy Thicket in a while is coming up this evening. We're planning a seafood feast for dinner tonight.
We've got shrimp, oysters, crab and some really beautiful scallops - the big sea scallops, not the little bay ones. I've eaten hundreds of them, but I've never actually cooked scallops before so I looked up a recipe on line. It seems so simple and easy I'm almost embarrassed to have asked for directions.
I'll let you know how they come out.
Our generator is back up and running!
The technician from Spring Generators (actually their service manager) was on time, knew what he was doing and had it fixed in just over half an hour. Great service - I wouldn't hesitate to recommend them to anyone needing generator service or a new generator.
Sure enough, the lights went out at 2:00 yesterday afternoon and were off for about three hours. Probably only a minor annoyance for folks who don't own a stand-by generator and are used to doing without electricity, but for us it was almost a major disaster.
We're so spoiled, we didn't know what to do.
The only candles we own are for aroma, not illumination, and the Coleman propane lantern from the camper had a disintegrated mantle. We cooked supper on the top of the stove, dished it up via flashlight and ate it in the final fading light of the day.
If the lights hadn't come back on when they did we would've been lost. The whole experience made paying today's service call a whole lot more palatable.
Looking at how inaccessible the starter is on our generator reminded me of something I hadn't thought of in half a century. I called this post a sort of a Christmas story, and if you just stay with me, you'll see what I mean.
In the early 1970's, before Xerox took over the market, my employer, 3M Company, was the largest copier company in the country. All of the machines we sold used a patented process with chemically treated or coated papers, then, in 1972, 3M entered into a deal to sell a dry process electrostatic copier manufactured in Japan by Toshiba but sold here under the 3M brand.
Summing up the presentation, Ron said (Here comes the Christmas reference.) "It's a really great little machine, but it was designed to be worked on by Elves."
That seems to be what happened to us this week. We were feeling all satisfied and pleased with our luck when our year old microwave got fixed free of charge, then I realized that our stand-by generator hadn't started up to do its weekly exercise on Sunday.
I went out and tried the manual start switch. The starter didn't engage, it just made a sort of buzzing chatter. My first thought was that the battery was bad - we've had to replace the battery a time or two over the years - but jumping it with the lawn mower had no effect at all.
Getting to the front of the generator is easy. The top lifts up and two bolts let you remove the front panel. That lets you change the oil and filter or replace the battery, but the starter is between the engine and the back panel. The manual does not give directions for removing the back and side panels, and when you check for starter problems it says to contact an authorized service representative.
If I were twenty years younger, or if the temperature was twenty degrees warmer, I would have tried it anyway, but instead I called for service.
The technician is supposed to be here Thursday.
You might remember that I wrote back on the 16th about our microwave going kaput and that GE was sending a technician to service it free of charge. Today was the day, and I'm pleased to report that we have a working microwave again.
I had suspected a capacitor and it turned out I was right, but it took the technician a long time to actually see the problem. He had to uninstall the microwave, remove all the covers and run it naked for a few minutes before we ever saw it arc. Luckily, he had the right replacement on his truck and we are back in business.
Here's Honey's latest jigsaw puzzle.
I love the beautiful house and the jacaranda tree.
Actually, between noon Sunday and three a.m. Monday, I dropped nine lbs. and a couple ounces. It was all the result of the prep for a colonoscopy I had yesterday.
The colonoscopy went well, and I was told that my innards are in fine shape - could win prizes - and they presented me with proof - a souvenir brochure or portfolio with a couple dozen close-up full-color photos of portions of my anatomy that I had never had any interest in actually seeing.
The doctor also cheerfully informed me that I could check colonoscopies off my bucket list. After my age they are no longer a recommended routine diagnostic procedure - or maybe I'm just old enough that if anything's wrong down there nobody cares.
AT&T is the sponsor of a public service ad campaign discouraging texting while driving. In many of their ads folks have written "It can wait" on their palms.
There is one ad running on Direct TV when you pause the program you are watching. It features fourteen people holding their hands up displaying "It can wait" on their palms. What struck me about the ad is that while only about 10% of the world's population is left handed, 13 out of 14 people in the ad have the slogan written on their right hand. That means either the images are reversed like selfies in the mirror, or they had help writing the slogans on their hands.
It probably shouldn't matter, and maybe nobody else noticed or cares, but when I see the ad, that's all I see.
Always.
It never fails.
Usually, I put them back where they belong before folding the pants and putting them in my dresser drawer. The operative word here is usually.
This morning, I got out of bed and while still half asleep, I grabbed a pair of sweat pants out of the drawer. I put my left leg in and had started shoving my right leg in when my foot went into the hole left by the inverted pocket, and I dropped like a rock.
There's not much space between the bed and the dresser so I didn't fall far. I bounced off the dresser and landed flat on my back on the bed. I really wasn't any worse for wear, but I definitely wasn't half asleep anymore.
I was telling Honey about it later, and we were laughing about it when she said -
"How did your husband die?"
"Put his foot in his pocket."
Sunday, the new microwave started making a popping noise - not just when it was cooking but after it was off. I unplugged it because we didn't know what was going on - just knew it wasn't supposed to do that - and didn't want to burn the house down.
The microwave came with a one year warranty. The problem was that we purchased it on November 9, 2019.
I called GE Customer Service - yes, they are actually open on Sunday - and explained that although we paid for the microwave on the 9th, the invoice indicated that it wasn't scheduled for delivery until 11/23. I asked if there was any wiggle room on their one year from date of purchase warranty. The lady I was talking to thought that there should be, but had to check with her supervisor.
A minute later, she came back on the line and told me it would be totally covered - parts and labor- and scheduled an appointment for a technician to come out.
Much as I hate to admit it, Texas ain't Heaven.
Still, it has a lot going for it. So much so that it has become a destination for thousands of corporations and individuals from other states. The business-friendly atmosphere and the lack of a state income tax have become a major draw for folks coming from everywhere from the rust belt to the Silicon Valley. Just last week it was announced that NASDAC is currently contemplating moving here from New York.
Normally, I would say the influx is a good thing. The problem is that all these folks seem determined to import all the things that made life in Michigan or New York or California so untenable.
We Texans are a proud bunch, and overall, we're pretty darn satisfied with our state the way it is. We don't really care how you did things back where you came from, so -
Welcome to Texas, Now Shut the Hell Up!
On arrival at Ft. Hood I was assigned an E-8 (master sergeant) slot - I was the radio/tv section of the 2nd Armored Division public information office -so I made all promotions in minimum time. Later, as head of the radio/tv section for III Corps and Ft Hood, I made Specialist 5 (E-5) after only 13 months in the Army. That wasn't that unusual in a war zone, but almost unheard of stateside.
Shortly before my discharge, I was awarded the Army Commendation Medal. The accompanying paperwork cites the fact that I created and hosted Post Time, a nightly radio show from Ft. Hood, broadcast on a local Killeen, Texas radio station. What it doesn't say, and what probably was the real reason for the award, was that I also ghost wrote speeches for Ft. Hood's commanding general.
When I told Honey about it this morning, she said "Well, damn Donald Trump anyway."
-0-
I broke up laughing.
If you don't get the joke, consider that during the presidential campaign Joe Biden and his surrogates blamed Trump for everything from forest fires in California to the hurricanes that hit the gulf coast.
Considering the state the country is in at the moment, this
limerick might be considered political, but it much more than that. It is how I actually deal with all sorts of
situations – drives my wife nuts.
It there’s one thing I despise – no, HATE
It’s having to sit around and wait
Joyous anticipation or dread
It’s easier to take myself to bed
To fall asleep, to hibernate
Here at the old Boggy Thicket we enjoy an abundance of wildlife - hundreds of birds and squirrels all day long. And it doesn't stop when the sun goes down.
Over the summer, we had nightly visits by an opossum that Honey named Lucy. She would show up every evening between eight and nine o'clock. Usually she would come in from the back, wander around the yard for five or ten minutes, then leave by crawling under the front gate. About once a week she would make the tour in reverse just to keep things interesting.
About a month ago, we started getting nightly visits from a young raccoon. We called him/her Bandit. Not very original, but it had a habit of climbing a few feet up a big oak tree and then peeking at us from behind the trunk. The look on its face as it peeked around the tree made you know it was up to something mischievous if not downright nefarious. Our suspicions were justified as it eventually knocked one of our hummingbird feeders to the ground and emptied it of nectar.
Last night we had a new visitor. I looked up to see a skunk come around the side of the pergola, not more than five feet from where Honey was sitting. It either wasn't aware that we were there, or it simply didn't care. It ambled toward the front of the yard then followed the fence line toward the south. Once it got out of the light, I lost it entirely. I have no idea when or how it got out of the yard.
We know there are skunks out there - our neighbor just the other side of the drainage ditch was complaining a couple weeks ago about her dogs having a run-in with a skunk - but in all our years here that was the very first skunk we have ever seen in our yard.
National elections are huge cumbersome things, and it's a wonder they work at all. Holding a presidential election is like trying to put an inflated balloon into a coke bottle while wearing oven mitts and balancing on a surf board. Every state has its own set of rules and procedures, and that fact alone almost guarantees that someone is going to be sure they are being cheated and head screaming to the courts.
If that wasn't enough, every four years one side or the other calls for the abolition of the Electoral College.
In some ways I can see their point - it doesn't seem fair that the vote of some riverboat guide in Montana would effectively have seven or eight times the weight of the vote of a music teacher from Brooklyn, but it has to in order for everyone in the USA to have their say. Without the Electoral College, all presidential elections would be determined by New York and California. All those of us in between could do would be stand by and watch.
Yes, our electoral system is a confusing mess and it doesn't always give the results we want - there's the fact that approximately half the votes in any election are cast by people of below-average intelligence - but it is the best system anywhere in the world.
I waited a couple of days to be sure it was fixed, but our water heater is now working like a charm.
The help desk guy at Rheem was true to his word and overnighted the part he said would fix our water heater. It got here about 10 a.m. on Saturday. What he sent was a new control valve assembly.
I was distressed to see that it did not come with a new thermocouple, but it turned out that I wasn't as right about the problem as I'd thought. The thermocouple was working normally - the problem was the way the control valve read/reacted to the signal.
Once the new valve was installed, the water heater went back to working like a new water heater should.
If you saw my post yesterday, you know our new water heater quit working.
The plumber said the strong north winds had blown the pilot light out. I didn't believe him - it never happened with our old water heater, not even during hurricanes - but he was confident, and he did get it back on.
The problem was that it only burned for about an hour, enough to get the water warm but not really hot, before it went out again.
We called him back, and after he called the manufacturer they are overnighting a new heating unit that should be here by noon. They don't just send thermocouples - what I thought was the problem all along - these new heaters use a sealed system replaced as a unit.
Our water heater quit working yesterday. It is a Rheem brand propane-fired heater that was installed as part of the repairs on our house - less than a year old and still under warranty. I figured that the thermocouple was bad, but since it was under warranty, we just called the plumber who installed it.
He had it going in less than five minutes. He tells us that the strong north wind blowing across the chimney vent yesterday had blown out the pilot. When I asked how often that might happen (it never happened with our old water heater in over 40 years) he said it really wasn't all that uncommon.
We lit our old water heater with a kitchen match, but this one is a sealed system with glass peep hole and electronic ignition. The principle is still the same, but I found a "How to" video on line in case it happens again.
His logic is that men have the same number of ribs as women (and the same number on each side of their bodies) but although almost all primates - including gorillas and chimpanzees -have a baculum, humans do not. He claims that it stands to reason that if God removed Adam's baculum then subsequent generations would be born without one.
I searched for knowledge far and wide
But never was I satisfied
In Tao or Torah or Upanishad
In Gospels the answer was not to be had
Not from the Mother or the Son
Or the revelations of St. John
Plato, Spinoza and Descartes
Nietzsche or Whitehead, Hawking don’t start
To fill the yearning in my heart
Now it has occurred to me
How much better it might be
To be a Mantis, a Beetle, a Slug
Some insensate variety of bug
Just live and eat and breed and die
And never have to wonder why
If asked, I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that I had read everything Greg Iles ever wrote - or at least, everything he had ever published. Then last week I rescued Turning Angel from the bottom a a ragged cardboard box in the garage. The book had obviously been around for years - had seen better days - it looked like it had been read a dozen times.
Most of the characters were familiar from other tales Iles wrote about Natchez, but I would swear that the story was absolutely new. I don't know how, if I had owned it since 2005 (and read the books that came before and after) I could have missed it.
My memory probably isn't what it used to be, but I don't think it has deteriorated to the point I could re-read a book for the very first time.
The belly fur of the white-eared squirrels seems to be whiter than their more ordinary cousins. That may or may not be true - it's based on a few of each who have stood up and faced me in the past few days.
Gray squirrels are really more tan than gray, and a place we used to camp near Romayor, Texas, had a large colony of gray squirrels that were completely black.
In addition to casting our ballots at the Crosby Community Center, we went to Walgreens so Honey could get her Flu shot. I had already got mine at the doctor's office on Monday.
For those who read my last post and might be wondering, I did not vote for myself. Once I was in the voting booth, I just couldn't bring myself to waste my vote.
If you, like the kid in the picture, can't stand either of the presidential candidates, I have an alternative.
Vote for Me!
I didn't pay any filing fees, don't have a vice presidential running mate, and I don't even have a platform. Still, I'm announcing my candidacy. If you haven't already voted early, you still have time to vote for me as a write-in candidate.
If you can't stand what the Democratic Party has become, and you'd rather vote for the Anti-Christ than cast your ballot for Donald Trump, then I'm your guy.
I don't expect to win - don't know what I'd do if I did - but I do hope to out-poll that perennial write-in favorite, Mickey Mouse.
I don't know who to feel sorrier for, the folks who had just completed repairs, or the ones who were still waiting for repairs to begin.
The new one is digital - no more spinning ring behind the glass - and it is capable of reporting usage on its own. Our meter reader came by today and told us she will continue to do so until they get the meters communicating via satellite. Once they do, she will be out of a job.
I should probably mention that she was drop-dead gorgeous and I had a bit of a crush on her. Although she was probably in her 40s, she still had the face and figure of the teenager who had grown up surfing in Hawaii. She liked me, too, and when I finished assignments early she would give me a hall pass even though she had to know I was heading up to the roof to smoke.
On the day in question, she cleared the top of a table at the front of the classroom. She climbed up on the table and said "Look, class. I lie on the table." which she then proceeded to do. After a few moments she got down, grabbed a book and said "I lay the book on the table." and did that.
Everything was fine to that point, and even the dullest bulb in the class had probably got the point.
But---
Then she said "If Robert were big enough, he could lay me on the table." and I immediately announced "I'm big enough!"
The classroom erupted in laughter. Poor Mrs. Strong turned as red as a box of Valentine candy and left the room.
She eventually came back and class returned to normal, but our relationship was never the same. I didn't get any more hall passes, but she did recommend me for honors English the next semester.
I wasn't feeling particularly creative at noon yesterday, so for lunch I had a plain cheddar cheese sandwich on white bread and a banana that was about a day past perfect ripeness.
As I ate, I realized that I had probably not had that combination for over 70 years.
The last time was on the train to Austin when my fourth grade class took a day trip to visit the Capitol. The only thing missing was the slightly-less-than-cold-enough milk in the little cardboard container.
Honey tells me that her class took that same trip a few years later, but neither of us can remember who sponsored those trips or how they were paid for.
I had always called them Rain Lilies because they pop up after rainstorms, but an on-line check tells me that they are Red Spider Lilies (Lycoris Radiata).
When I said pop up, I meant that literally. They go from invisible to bundles of blooms on a 16 inch stem in less than a day.
I don't know where they came from - we never bought any, so they probably hitchhiked in on something we did buy. I don't do anything to encourage them, in fact the brown in the fence line just behind them is the result of spraying weed killer a few weeks ago.
The particular blooms seen here were generated by what rain we got from Tropical Storm Beta.
I have been playing around the edges of an idea for the past few days, and finally decided to try to write it down.
Can an analogy be made between the changes in society and changes in transportation?
Let's say you want to go to California. Never mind why - that's a topic for another day - let us just agree that you want to go.
Up until the mid-1800s you would simply set out walking, or riding if you were wealthy enough to own a horse. Somewhere about the Mississippi River, you might catch a ride on a packet boat headed up the Missouri or the Platte, or you might join up with a wagon train headed west. The alternative would be to catch a schooner sailing around the horn of South America that would eventually dock in San Francisco. Either way, you were looking at a danger-filled journey of six months to a year.
Somewhere after 1870, you could just take the train - assuming you had the $136 for a Pullman sleeper, or as little as $65 for a third class ticket that got you a seat on a wooden bench. Accounting for inflation, that $165 in 1870 is equivalent to just over $2000 today.
The first transcontinental commercial flight was in 1911, and took three and a half days, but it wasn't until January 1959 that the first scheduled commercial jet flight went from coast to coast. That flight would set you back about $170 which translates to $ 1138 today.
All that goes to say that getting there in the past was something of value - something you had to expend money and/or a hell of a lot of effort to achieve.
Today's young adults would just fly using their parent's credit card, or go on line and get there (virtually) for nothing.
I got my first car in 1957. It was a 1930 Ford Model A 1/4 ton pickup.
I owned five Model A's and one Model B over the next few years - most of them rescued from fields and barns. I kept the best parts and cleaned them up enough to sell. The proceeds helped keep me in gas money.
My Dad's first car was a Model T Ford.
He had quite a few stories about that old jalopy, but probably the most impressive was this one:
They had driven the thing to Crockett to visit relatives and about the time they got there it started knocking. They knew they were about to throw a rod. They did not have extra rod bearings, and no money to buy any, so they replaced the worn out bearing with a piece of pork rind and made the 120 mile trip back home.
One year ago today we woke up to knee deep water in our home.
All the repairs have been completed and we are scheduled to replace the old windows and complete the finishing touches on the outside of the house next week.
That may not happen now because.....
My current favorite is Dos Equis Amber, and one of my favorite memories of Ricoh schools in Los Angeles was sharing pitchers of Bass Ale with the head of the training center.
All that being said, I really looked forward to trying Crawford Bock. I appreciated the clever name and the tie-in to the Houston Astros and the Crawford Boxes in Minute Maid Park's left field.
I really wanted to like it, but I don't. If it extremely cold, it is almost drinkable, but it has a weird whang to it. For some reason, it reminds me of cilantro.
Unlike Cinco de Mayo, it gets hardly a mention here in the USA. I saw only two posts on Facebook, and no ads for specials on Margaritas.
Today, I'm posting twice. Just because.
Honey's cell phone had been acting a little wonky lately, and we'd seen an AT&T ad on television hyping their 5-G coverage. The ad offered a free Samsung phone for all new and existing customers.
Too good to be true? You bet your buttons.
When I called the closest ATT store, they claimed to have no idea what I was talking about. They also said they couldn't access my records based on a phone call, but that I could find out what was available by calling 611 (ATT Customer Service) on my cell phone.
That worked well.
I was put on hold for over five minutes twice, and each time disconnected before I ever got to talk to a live human. I finally loaded up our phones and went to the ATT store.
I first learned that our old phones were too old to have any trade in value, and the best offer I could get was for a pair of Samsung Galaxy phones for an additional six bucks per phone per month. I didn't like it, but I said OK, only to learn they didn't have the phones in stock. Grrrrrr.
The Humble, TX store did have the phones, so I went there to pick them up. Then the clerk told me that she could not transfer all our info from the old phones to the new ones - something they have always done in the past!
Once I got the phones home, I was able to download an App that let me transfer the data. That sounds easy enough, but I had to download and install the app on all four phones then get the phones on our wi-fi network then scan the QR code on the old phone to load the data to the new one. The entire process, with glitches and all took a little over four hours.
Now we just have to learn how to navigate phones whose screens are nothing like the old LG phones we had been using.
One of the things that I've found interesting is how many of the books I read years ago have remarkably accurate descriptions of the events of this year. The more obvious examples are Richard Preston's the Hot Zone and his Cobra Event, or the Plague Tales by Ann Benson - with titles like that, you should expect some similarities.
The one at impressed me the most, though, has been Oath of Office, a Jack Ryan novel written by Marc Cameron. In the middle of a novel about spies and international intrigue, Cameron talks about the effects of an epidemic (instead of the China Virus, he calls it the American Flu) and proves to be even more prescient than his mentor, the late Tom Clancy. Not only is the flu at the top of each news cycle, President Ryan's political opposition and their friends in the media are trying to blame the pandemic (yes, that word is used) on him!
What do contractors and pigs have in common? They've both been busy at the old Boggy Thicket for the last couple of days.
The contractors are beginning the repairs to the outside of our house - and no, we haven't got any more money from our insurance - this is coming out of our pocket. They are replacing the old vinyl siding with Hardie plank, then they will be replacing the windows and painting the whole place. The good news is that all this can be done while we continue to live in the house - no more camping out in the back yard!
The pigs have been visiting sometime between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m. for the past two nights. We haven't seen them (or heard them, for that matter) but we have certainly seen the evidence of their visits. It is amazing what a dedicated pig can do to a lawn in just a couple of hours.
My last post was titled Hot Hot Hummers. Well, there's hot, and then there's Hot!
I haven't actually seen this myself, but this YouTube video ends with the lady on top -
It has been so hot that our hummingbirds are showing the effects. They still chase each other around the yard, but, instead of the usual high speed aerobatics, they are slowly cruising around like a little old lady in a school zone.
Last Friday evening, during a thunderstorm, we had a nearby lightning strike that took out our phone, our air conditioner, our microwave and all the wall plugs in our living room. I went out and tried to reset the breakers without any luck.
Early Saturday morning, our contractor sent his electrician over, and after an hour or so he had everything back up and running. He told me that the problem was with two of our 120 volt breakers. Both breakers were OK, but whenever he reset one, the other would pop. If he reversed the sequence, the same thing happened, just in reverse. He said the solution was moving one wire from one of the shared circuits from one breaker to the other.
Neither breaker was pulling too much amperage before the switch, and they had been working fine wired that way for years. I still have no idea why swapping that wire solved the problem, but it's hard to argue with success.
The only thing that wire change didn't fix was the phone. The lightning fried the circuits in the phone and it had to be replaced.
Remember all that stuff we bought to get ready for the hurricane?
Well, thank goodness we didn't need it - we hardly got any rain at all and no wind to speak of. That, of course, was a good thing, but it left us with a couple of pallets of stuff taking up space in our garage and no good way to move them.
That left the pallet of cider blocks. It was pretty obvious I wasn't going to get that on the platform - and that platform had already proved to be unreliable at best - so I just ran a chain under the pallet and towed it out of the garage. That got the pallet out of the garage, across the driveway, and into the side yard before the chain pulled loose.
I should have stopped right there - the pallet wasn't really in the way - but not me, boy.
I drilled holes in two of the support boards on the pallet, threaded my chain through , hooked up and started again.
Honey says she was yelling at me the whole time to stop, but all I heard was the revving tractor engine. By the time I got the pallet where I wanted it, I had a string of 30 or 40 cinder blocks trailing along behind.
It is currently 93⁰, with a heat index of 105, so those cinder blocks are a task for another day.
