March 4th, 2017

#5477: Everything hurts.

Every time I go to that house, the next day I am a wreck. This is so because I go there to work; even though my main job yesterday was to direct the efforts of others, I can't just stand around doing nothing, so I did some odd jobs (part of the cleanup effort) rather than be idle.

The last few things I needed to get out of the house consisted of a dorm fridge, a very nice stepladder, Dad's toolbox, and some sundry items. I also got the old console TV out of the basement and into the garage, so when it's time to recycle it I don't have to move it as far. The TV was the heaviest thing I moved, though I didn't need to lift it to move it; I just scooted it along the floor.

Also took down the curtains. The curtains in the living room were shot; anyway they matched the ugly "goldenrod" shag that was too badly stained to be cleaned, even before all this.

...but the result is that I'm aching all over. It's not just the work yesterday; it's the work Wednesday, and the work I did on Thursday, cleaning out the truck for Friday's load, and other miscellanious chores around the house that required moving and bending and reaching and-and-and.

The only things left at the house now are, as I said, groundskeeping tools, and the two TV sets that need recyling. (Glass bulbs; they're not worth anything.) The TVs will go sometime before the house hits the market. The tools will stay to help with upkeep, and won't make a Jeep-load when it's time to get them out.

Some other time, though. Not today.

* * *

Got up about ten minutes before Mrs. Fungus' alarm went off to hit the can; saw that it snowed last night. It melted perhaps half an hour later. They're predicting snow at the end of next week, but not much. We had a rather peculiar winter this year.

* * *

On my way home yesterday I was thinking that the stepladder was a decided improvement over the stepladders we have here in the bunker. I have two wooden stepladders which do not seem as sturdy as they ought to be, and I compared this one (fiberglas) to the wooden ones; the phrase "nice-ass ladder" came to mind, and then I was reminded of how horribly wrong a phrase can go if you misplace a hyphen. It's a nice-ass ladder, not a nice ass-ladder.

"What the hell is an 'ass-ladder' anyway?" I wondered aloud.

In any case, this nice-ass ladder will obviate the other two not-nice-ass wooden ones, which means they can go out with next week's trash.

Sometime in the coming week I'll be making a trip to Salvation Army with a load of stuff for donation, too. Got to get out in front of that garage; it's a mess.

* * *

I saved a stack of Christmas records, one of them being a disk titled Disco Noel. I have about ten months to get a working turntable so we can boogie it down this Christmas. Heh.

Worst case I can always grab the turntable from my old stereo, vintage 1981. The turntable is not the greatest but it will play records, and I've previously used it as a standalone turntable; it's just a matter of dismounting it, hacking together a power cord, and building some kind of case to contain it. Previously it was in a shallow box I cobbled together out of a piece of plywood and some scrap 1x2 lumber we had laying around, but I threw that away years ago; anyway it doesn't need something made by a professional cabinetmaker and with a little planning ahead I can probably do better than my prior effort. For one thing, I have better tools now.

* * *

And, chores to do today, as well. Not a problem. Minor ones, around the house, here, nothing really strenuous or time-consuming.

Suppose I may as well get after 'em.

#5478: Tick-tick-tick-tick

So one task I did today: hang the clock from Dad's basement.

It's a nice electonic clock, made by Bulova, purchase date sometime in 1975. The last battery put into it was a Duracell and it died the death of super-discharged alkaline batteries, so first step was to clean the battery terminals with vinegar to get rid of the alkalai salts.

New battery, hung on wall in computer room...no ticky. It would ticky for a bit, then start acting like the pendelum was hitting something and stall.

Disassembled clock. Verified function of mechanism. Found that pendelum hanger had gotten jammed in wrong position, corrected that; put it back together, now ticky quite nicely. Started running at 1 PM, has not missed a beat since then, and has kept time just fine.

The chime mechanism isn't working now. No idea why not, but that's something I'll dig into another time.

I also hung the mirror we got from Dad's house at the end of the hallway. Took down the framed congratulatory certificate my Dad had gotten in 1976 for working at Montgomery Wards' paint factory for 25 years and hung the mirror in its place.

Look: Dad has been dead for ten years. I love my dad, I miss him, but keeping that picture hanging in the hallway isn't going to bring him back, and it's commemorating an achievement which happened four decades ago at a company which is no longer in business. Dad doesn't live here any more; I still do--why not redecorate to suit myself? At least change the artwork?

...and I'm amazed at how much that mirror livens up that hallway. It makes it a much more attractive space. It just feels better.

In the front hall, I took down the My Neighbor Totoro wall scroll and hung another picture from Dad's house in its place.

Looked over the bulletin board in the computer room, and realized that I had absolutely no connection to any of the things Mom had tacked up on it, so they all came down and went into the trash can. Heck, it's been six years and some months since Mom died. She doesn't need any of that nonsense, and it's not doing me any good, either. Again, why keep any of it?

A lot of this stuff is just habit. Changing it feels good. Makes me want to hang more pictures and stuff...but I'd better wait for my wife's input.

Heh.