After It's Over

We had a good Thanksgiving. Only one child was there. The great nieces, and nephews, were at their other parents, as mandated by child custody decisions created by bureaucrats and attorneys. It's one of those possession things. Regardless of how it affects the children, the legalities of failed marriages plod along, and their absence is felt by all. 

Still, it was good. The feast was notable, and the deserts on one table would have made any bakery proud. Everyone was satiated, and everyone enjoyed the warmth of love that fills such gatherings. I completed the festivities with a nap that carried to dusk. 

Tonight, the stars are as brilliant as they can be with the sky glow of street lights, and the nearby city. The moon has a halo, which is the harbinger of future rain. It will settle in over the next few days, and the weather folks are forecasting wet, cold, dreary weather into next week. We've enjoyed weeks of what can only be described as fantastic weather, which like all good things, doesn't last forever. 

Christmas is the next big holiday. Merchants seem almost panicky with their deals, promises of wonderful products, and their attempt to create anxiety for not jumping on the deals they offer. I understand their attempts, but wonder what the inflation strapped public will do. It might not be that good of a season for merchants, and I wonder how they'll deal with their possible overstocked inventory. The tax man is coming, and anything in inventory is ripe for taxing. 

I'm changing my Medicare plan next year. I liked my medigap plan, but their notifications told me the extra $500 each month I can save by going to a PPO Advantage plan is necessary. Even if my cost reach the maximum amount, I'll still be ahead. That sucks, but it is what it is. Inflation has been cruel to my retirement, and I have to cut where I can. 

I think I'll put up the small strings of Christmas lights tomorrow. It's a short task, since there aren't that many lights, and the hooks I originally placed are still there. It adds to the season, and my wife loves the soft glow they give to the porch. It's pleasant to sit out there on a cold winter night, with a cup of coffee, some relatives, and good conversation. 

Sometime, over the next few weeks, we'll light the big pile of trees, and limb I cut. It's going to be a monster fire, and lawn chairs will be at a distance. We'll slowly move closer, since our plan it's lit on a cold night. We'll sit, converse, ruminate, and stare at the embers. For a short period of time, all will be good, and all will be peaceful. 

Credit Where Credit is Due

My wife is a quilter. Quilters are a special bunch, enamored by good selections of fabric, and will roam long distances to visit one they like, or one they've never been to before. With my wife, going with her to a quilt store is like bringing a child to a candy store. It's a pleasant feeling to see her so happy, and her excitement is infectious. We've been to many in Texas, and will probably venture to see more.

One of her favorites, and one we've been to many times, closes its doors at 3:00 pm today. The owners are retiring, and it appears nobody wants to take on the store. After forty years in business, I'm thinking many, like my wife, will miss it. Multiple generations of quilters were steady customers. 

In a way, it was a landmark for quilters in the Houston area. The owners offered a huge selection of fabrics, and Charlie was an expert on the repair, and maintenance, of the Jenome sewing machines they sold. During the annual Quilt Festival, hoards of quilters would visit to  wander through another shop, and take advantage of sales. Before we met, my wife would drive about 100 miles to visit.

So good bye "Painted Pony". Quilters will miss the store, and my wife has some melancholy due to losing a store she loved to visit over the last three decades.

Swimming in the Heat

I decided this morning was the time to clean the condenser coils on my outside unit. I try to do this once each season, and usually do the same for some in-laws. A/C's last much longer when the coils are kept clean, and operate more efficiently, which helps with the electricity usage. 

It's not a long project. It usually takes about an hour, and involves removing the side panels for access to the coils. Turning off the unit, and killing the power to the outside unit is first. Removing some sheet metals screw is next. Easing up the fan housing allows the side covers to be removed. Usually, a few will just fall out. After the coils are exposed, I spray on a commercial coil cleaner, allow it to work for a few minutes, and then flood the coils with water to remove the cleaner. I'll flush out around the compressor at the bottom, and rinse around the base. 

It took the amount of time I figured, and the project came out good, but that little time in the heat led to being soaked with sweat, which doesn't dry in the high humidity of morning. That, and without anything to evaporate the sweat, I felt like I had run a marathon. I might should have waited for evening, when the unit is in the shade.

I might venture this afternoon, when shade allows, and take care of the in-laws units....or not. I will clean them over the next few days, but maybe only one a day.

That Day Again

My mother's been gone for over a decade. My wife's mother has been gone longer. Still, there is a reason to think about our mothers today. They raised us, regardless of all our efforts to ignore their teachings, refuse to accept their wisdom, and not realizing the number of visits are numbered. They put up with our ignorance, loved us despite our faults, and sacrificed more than we'll ever know. Today, we can only miss them, and the things they taught.

Increasing the Air Volume

A few months ago, I wrote about working on sister-in-law's heater.  Earlier in the week, with a cool Spring day as an advantage. I tackled my air handler, which services the heater and air conditioner. 

Removing the blower was fairly easy, except for one very hard to reach sheet metal screw. Replacing it was much easier, since I had a better idea on how to get to that area. After removal, I brought it outside, turned it to where I could reach the blades, and went to work. 

Squirrel cage blowers are a fantastic way to move air. They are not fantastic when it's time to clean the blades. I used a small screwdriver to break the clinging, packed dust, removed what remained with an old toothbrush, and vacuumed everything else. After I was finished, and reinstalled it, I checked the operation. I was amazed at how much more air was being moved. That, and how more quick the unit cycled. 

I probably saved a few hundred bucks by doing it myself, but for those that can clean the blower themself, or have the money, I recommend doing so. It has to be more efficient, which translates into reduced costs, and lengthens the life of the system. The accumulated dust can cause the blower to become unbalanced and shorten the life of the bearing. Now is the time, before the heat is oppressive.

Cold Rain and Heaters

We've been in the mid-forties all day, with occasional steady rain. With the high humidity, the chill goes to the bone, so running the heater to break the chill is necessary. 

My sister-in-law asked me to check on my other sister-in-law's heater. She said it had the odor of something dead when it was running. I went to check it out; hoping it was something easy to find. 

I looked with a flashlight, found nothing, and decided I need to go further into the system to find the source of the odor. Removing the squirrel cage blower revealed the problem: a dead mouse was laying on the heating coils. With the squirrel cage blower out, I decided the best thing was to go ahead and clean the fins. A little time with a screwdriver, small brush, and a shop-vac removed the accumulated dust. After replacing the blower, and checking the operation, the heater checked out ok. Vacuuming the cabinet removed the dust that accumulated over time. 

I need to do the same cleaning for my furnace. I'll wait for a nice day, with cool temperatures, and do the deed on a much better day for the task.

Salted Pecans and a Lesson Learned

Years ago, probably when I was around 12 years old, I started dipping into the salted pecans at my grandmother's to satisfy my appetite while waiting for Thanksgiving dinner. I would eat a few, go back for some more, ate too many, and they came back up. I made it to the bathroom unobserved, and hid the evidence with a toilet flush. I never told anyone, since such things were frowned upon...or at least I thought they were. I really don't know. I do know I had my first encounter with heartburn that day, and the dinner wasn't quite the enjoyable event I envisioned. 

Since that time, salted pecans are something I avoid. I've tried them, but liking the taste is gone, and will never return.

I'm Impressed

My wife loves quilt stores. I like them, too, but not like she does. I get more out of watching her examine the different fabrics. She's like a child in a candy store, and while she browses the inventory, she's thinking what she can make. Her current quilt, which she finally finished yesterday, was something a little outside of her box, but she had a compulsion and followed the urge. 

I'm holding it up in the first photo. The finished dimensions are about 5 ft. by 6 ft. The photos really don't completely capture the brilliance of the colors, but are close. The fabric between the panels, due to the pattern, give the appearance the borders are not straight, although the pieces of fabric are all cut straight. 

I'm impressed, and while she can critique the quilt, I know it's her expert eye finding things the majority of people would miss. I think it's one of the most beautiful things she ever created and I'm proud of her creation.

A Conversation Brings Back a Memory

 My wife, and I, were sitting on the porch, drinking coffee with my sister-in-law, and discussing how certain things were not negotiable when we were young, and how one certain look from our mothers could curtail any thoughts of whining. Going beyond whining could lead to things worse.

My sister-in-law told of a story of saying something inappropriate to her mother, who grabbed her by the hair and pulled her from their car to show her dissatisfaction with her daughter.  A spanking with a belt followed, which always involved a short wait, since her mother wanted her anger to subside before the belt wailed. She then asked her if she understood why she was spanked. My sister-in-law said that was worse than the spanking. She knew she had to confess to her error in judgement, and admit the failure. 

After we all laughed about the event, I told them of my error in judgement when I was about sixteen years old.  

I was sitting at the kitchen table, my mother was behind me and asked me a question. I don't remember the question, but I do remember the answer, which was not a good thing to do: "It's none of your business."

The next thing I knew, I was levitating. My butt was now a few inches above the chair, I was moving to the right, and the power that caused the levitation was suddenly released. Falling on my butt on the floor, registering the pain, and realizing there was a new pain, I turned to look at my mother standing over me with a handful of hair. I don't remember what happened afterward, but I do know - as I look back in time - it took a tremendous amount of strength to pick me up by my hair with one hand and throw me to the floor. Her message was clear, and I probably gave her an appropriate answer at that time. 

My wife, after laughing with my sister-in-law about my memory, stated: "You should write this down", which I did. Now both events are in writing for future reference by anyone that cares.

Doing Some Math

I was thinking about the date of my father's passing, and realized it's been almost 35 years since that day. That's 34 years we didn't celebrate a Father's Day, I still miss him.

It's Not What it Seems

I was reading a news report about a young woman, with many emotional, and physical, problems, who has will be euthanized to handle her problems.  I'm appalled, and wondering how officials, and psychiatrists have become so subverted to condone the action. I'll explain below how I arrived at this opinion.

Decades ago, my step-mother's sister hung herself. It was a response to severe depression and her feeling of hopelessness.  It left her parents, two sisters, her husband, and three children to deal with their emotional response. They were saddened, angered, feeling guilty, appalled, grasping for answers, and had to live their lives with their emotions. To make things worse, her son put a shotgun in his mouth, and destroyed his family decades later, when his depression led to the same conclusion. His actions reawakened the emotional responses and added his wife and child to the same. 

Years ago, after an argument, and I slept on the couch so she could have space to deal with it, my ex-wife woke me the next morning with a confession. She had allowed her depression to overrule, took a handful of Vicodin, and tried to end it all. Instead of doing the deed, it made her violently ill, and she threw them up before they were absorbed. 

How do you describe how that makes you feel? I was surprised, sad, angered, lost, feeling guilty, hopeless and devastated. If she had succeeded, I don't think the feeling could have been worse. She, through her actions, showed how selfish and cruel she could be. I knew she had emotional problems, I was trying to deal with them, and regardless of my efforts, my efforts were in vain. 

Years later, and after more years of dealing with her problems, I had to admit defeat, divorce her, and allow her to live her life the way she wanted. She died last year of health problems other than depression, which made me wonder if she had taken the path of not taking care of herself to accelerate the path to death. 

So, I don't really care what people think. Suicide is not relief. Suicide is a horrendous emotional burden placed on the people that are left behind. I'll never condone it, or consider it a good response to any problem with life. 

My Wife's Work

 My wife is passionate about her quilts. That, and regardless of how impressive they are, she finds fault in every one she does. Still, I like to brag about them, so I'll brag about her current lap quilt she just finished. 

The picture below is after she sews the 2 inch squares together on the board she uses for the layout. This one had 625 squares. 

The finished product is below. After all the sewing of the backing and quilting, the edges were added to add to the final quilt.

The finished quilt measures 46 inches by 46 inches. While it is a lap quilt, this one was placed on the wall to be treasured.

Thinking About My Ancestors

Like most people, there is little known about my ancestors. While I can find names from a few generations back, I know nothing about the people, except what few conversations I had with my father. Other than a few photos, documents, and postcards, there is nothing to fill the vast blank pages documenting their lives. I know this is normal for most people, but it's still tragic in my mind. I would like to know more, but there is no more to find. In a way, time has erased their time on this planet, and the rich experiences of their lives are gone forever.

Skills By Observing

I've never built stairs. In theory, I knew how the risers are cut, but never had to cut any. For porches, I'd buy the pre-cuts and make them work. However, my wife doesn't care for the 7 1/2 inch step height, which I understand. The less you have to step up, the more comfortable is walking up the steps. I'd seen risers cut, so I decided to build them myself.

The problem with pre-cuts is the standard height of the steps. To take care of my wife, I decided on a 6 inch tread height for some steps I added on the side of the porch. With our new dog, she wanted a small yard for him to be safe if we can't watch him. So placing new steps, adding some fence, and placing a small gate at the front steps will give him and area for outside, without worrying if he decides to chase the UPS truck. 

I found a site on the web with a calculator for the steps. I knew the rise, and the run didn't matter, since that was a flexible distance. Placing my figures, seeing what was necessary, buying the materials and careful measuring with a framing square, soon yielded the risers. Placing two deck boards beside each other gave me the tread width I needed. The fence is started, and I hung the gate on the two 4 by 4's I concreted in the other day.  

So, the steps are in, without the handrails. That's tomorrows task, if it doesn't rain. Truthfully, I wouldn't mind if it did. Not working like I once did revealed some muscles I forgot. A little Acetaminophen helps, but rest is probably best. I have some more post holes to dig for the fence, and that's not my favorite task.

I'm The Last

 Up to this evening, I had one sibling left. That ended when she was struck by a car while crossing a busy street. I'm the last of five siblings, and it sure feels lonely.

I Have to Share This Picture

Dogs have a tendency to choose where they want to be. They respond to attention, and my great nephew's dog decided to move in. Being retired, having time to spend with him, letting him in when it's cold out, and keeping food around for when he's hungry led to him staying most of the day. That, and he started not going home at night and ignoring their calls to come home. We'd bring him home after dark, but late one night, after we thought he was home, I was awakened by a bark outside. I opened the door to find him standing at the door with a pitiful look on his face. He'd ignored the calls of his master, or his master thought he was in. Regardless he stayed that night, my wife would ask my niece if he could stay on some nights, and it's now official he has a new home. 

I've had dogs, and a menagerie of different pets over time; including monkeys. All take a piece of your heart, and some are a lifetime of responsibility. My divorce years ago led to no pets, and my new wife was hesitant to have any pets, except fish. I was the same, since the loss when they pass is something I don't relish, but this little dog has found a place in our heart. He's a ball of energy during the day, but when the day is done, he rests all night. 

So Now We Grieve

I've lost all my brothers. Grieving is a personal thing, but if somebody hasn't experienced the loss of a sibling, there are no words that describe the grief. 

My wife's sister passed away this evening. She couldn't breathe, 911 was called, and they responded in minutes. As they sat in the driveway giving her oxygen, making sure she was stabilized, she went into cardiac arrests. They got a pulse, but it was weak, and they had to stop on the way to the hospital for CPR again. My wife, and I, were waiting for some news, which wasn't good. She didn't make it, and the long, agonizing moments of "wondering what everyone could do that would have helped" started. It's natural. There's always that feeling you could have done more, spent more time with them, helped them at a certain time, recognized a problem before it happened.....the list goes on. 

So, the grief now starts. No words help. No soul searching finds an answer. They're gone, and regardless of how many years pass, time stands still, and memories only allow moments on the path to closure. 

God rest her soul, and God give the family peace. 

A Day of Thanksgiving

I've celebrated over sixty Thanksgivings. At this age, I'm now the old relative that children are polite to, but mostly have other thoughts than a conversation with someone that they really don't understand. I accept this, since it's part of the progression of a family, and the graces of age. They are not yet curious enough, or wanting to document the experiences of someone that will one day only pass their thoughts. Their questions will remain unanswered, and the memories of me will fade over generations. 

Happy Thanksgiving to all that pass this wide spot in the road. May you have many more, and they all be wonderful experiences.

Late One Evening.

I hadn't reached 20 years of age, was working offshore, and could help my brother get to work at the shipyard on my days off. My schedule was in the day mode, and in a few days, I would switch back to nights on the offshore platform His car was in the shop, and would soon be out. He was working the three to eleven shift, which was better in the cold months. In the summer, the heat became oppressive at 3:00 pm and was only bearable at 11:00 pm. His work as a welder was to fill in his college schedule, which he never finished, but his later successful career in electronics pretty well showed it was wasted money. It's strange how thing never turned out as planned.

It was cold. Not the cold of up North, but the cold we get. The temperature was in the low forties, and the damp chill was almost overbearing. My '63 pickup was modified, since I had to retrofit a radiator to fit the frame. The added cooling, and lack of thermostat, pretty well insured any heat was minimal. 

I parked in the parking lot, sat, and waited for the shift whistle to blow. Out in the shipyard the push was to complete the drilling rigs scheduled for drilling in the near future. Huge sections were visible. The quiet was broken by the loud crackling of arc-gougers and the banging of ship fitting. 

Soon, the whistle blew, and the workers started to come through the gate. Over time, my brother appeared, found my truck, and I asked if he felt like driving. I was tired, and would rather be a passenger, so I could nap. 

I sat,  watched my brother shift through the three-on-the-column gears, felt satisfied, and leaned back in the seat. I knew I could catch a short nap on the thirty minute trip home, but was soon faced with a predicament. 

It was cold. The hole in the floorboard on the passenger side was allowing a huge amount of air to blow through the floorboard. What little heat from the heater wasn't nearly sufficient to break the chill, and I was soon shivering. 

I realized the driver side was a much better place to be, how uncomfortable the passenger side was, and was regretting my decision to let my brother drive. I soon had a "fix".

There was a small piece of cardboard from a brake shoe package on the floorboard, which I placed over the hole, and place my foot on to keep it from being displaced. It helped, but it was still cold. The heater was nearly useless, and my ignorance didn't allow me the sure fix of placing a new thermostat. I endured, although it was far from comfortable.

We got him home, I switched to the driver seat, and was soon home. A hot bath broke the chill, and I was rewarded with a good night's sleep. 

Time reveals many memories, and sitting on the porch brought back a cold evening over forty years ago. I guess that's our destiny. We shuttle the current moments away, when the rich memories of the past appear. 

A Short Trip

 I took a short trip West to the Balcones Escarpment with my wife over the last few days. It's only about a 5 hour drive, so an early start gets you to the area before noon. I know some are wondering what the Balcones Escarpment is, which is not the usual term. Most call it the edge of the Texas Hill Country, although that really doesn't describe some of the area. 

I started to write about the mountains called hills, the crystal clear Frio River, and the beautiful scenery surrounding the area, but my words can't describe what can be found on the internet in photos. Regardless of the scenery, the trip was one of the peaceful, quality time ventures my wife, and I, take every once in a while. We need it, because it allows us to deflate, wonder about things of the past, be awed by God's creations, and allows long moments of just being together. It's a good thing.