Archive | April, 2008

>Indy Meetup, More

30 Apr

>How does 11 May sound? Looks like it is either that or the 4th. (There’s a faint possibility I could be involved in Big Doings at the Skunk Works 4 May, but it should be am-ish if it happens at all).

Geesh, it’s late.


>You Go Grrl!

29 Apr

>Barbie dolls are destroying Iran! Hoorray! Hurrah! Man, that’ll pull our irons outta the fire.

…Just wait’ll we start settin’ up underground pork barbeque joints! An’ American football games, too.

>Indy Meetup

29 Apr

>Somehow I have been declared Social Secretary of the Indy Meetup; just ask Tam.

Okay. It’ll be on a Sunday afternoon or evening; the Skunk Works has me workin’ Saturdays tfn.

Our choices include Broad Ripple Brewpub, Binkleys and The Aristocrat. I’m open to suggestions.

>Neti, Neti, Nettttttie

29 Apr

>Tam doesn’t know it yet but, having awakened this morning to a degree of sinus blockage of which good taste bars further description, I went into the kitchen and semi-quietly used a field-expedient neti pot. (Improvised using a one-person teapot ‘cos my real neti pot was packed up neatly last Fall and has not been seen or heard from since).

Guess who’s going to be innocently putting that thing in the dishwasher later? –Hey, I rinsed it out with boiling water.

Heh heh heh. Having a sister my own age is way kewl.

>Four Rules

28 Apr

>There are four rules for safe gun-handling. Four. They all count, all the time.

We are all likely to violate one of them at least once. When ya do so, take yer correction and fly right. Whinging that, “It ain’t loaded,” does not count; even empty, it’s loaded, ‘cos you are no more perfect than anyone else. That goes double if someone handed it to ya an’ you failed to check.

Hey, I know: let’s ask the man who owns a gun store!

1. All guns are always loaded.
2. Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot.
3. Never let the muzzle cover anything you are not willing to destroy.
4. Know your target, what’s behind it, and what’s next to it.

And once you’ve reached the point where you pick up an electric drillmotor* and your finger goes unthinkingly along the frame instead of onto the trigger? Don’t relax; work harder on maintaining conscious awareness of what you are doing.

Hat tip to Say Uncle.
* I do not care how the hoi polloi say it, “drills” are the twisty-pointy things you put in the chuck of a hand drill — powered or not — or a drill press or even the tailstock of a lathe. Except when they are straight-flute types, but that’s another subject. “Bits” have truncated tetrahedral shanks that fit braces or hexagonal ones that fit drivers/bitholders or cylindrical D-and-notch ones that fit Yankee screwdrivers, except for some antique types that use other tricks. Really. “Drill bit” is a horrid, horrid phrase that should be left out to rust.


28 Apr

>Tam and I hit Boogie Burger as a weekend treat, then walked a quarter-mile down the Central Canal Towpath, from the start, past the turtle-threatening statue (I can’t find any photos — I shall snap one and post it, this construction cannot adequately be described), across the bowstring truss footbridge and back up Westfield boulevard to my car; a nice way to settle dinner, a chance for Tam to have a smoke and, well, it is Springtime, an encounter with small flying insects. Quite a few of them in the parking lot, and Tam dashed across to the car.

When I got in, reached over and unlocked the door, she climbed in and slammed it, saying, “I don’t want any bugs to get in the car, I already inhaled some buggery!”

Long mutual what-did-I-just-hear/say look followed immediately by my “I call blog!

Y’know, Broad Ripple’s artsy and tolerant, but I really doubt there was any chance of that.

>Working and Riding

26 Apr

>Working today, thanks to some ongoing super-duper sekrit skunk-workery. Working the next several Saturdays, in fact, primary election week excluded. This is how we can know It Is Important. It’s also a nice supplement to my income.

I’ll still have a two-day weekend this time ’round thanks to our arcane vacation year. The “year” runs from the first of May to the last of April (something about a 500-mile race of some sort; used to be, none of us Skunk Workers could take any time off in May, ever) and I have about a day left to use up or lose, so it’s, “Goodbye blue Monday!” …After that, the six-day-week grind settles in. Oh well, every other Friday they hand me a nice chunk o’change for it.

I was able to ride every day this week, but got spooked by the forecast Wednesday and drove instead. Nice weather all day, of course. Then lit out for the department store (I was out of Lancome Dual-Finish Powder, which my skin loves) that evening on two wheels just in time to return home in a pouring rain. …It turns out windscreens are not the best idea when it’s raining solid sheets of water, by the way. Now I know!