The Sunday Re-Run: Four Years Ago Today

I was bitching yesterday about the fact it's gonna be cold today... our high is supposed to be all o' 35 and right now it's 24 with a wind chill o' ten degrees.  I'm all warm and cozy, however, which was NOT the case four years ago.  Note:

Right Now, Part II

In the "It's Always Sumthin'" Dept...

 

Our recent frozen water lines episode resulted in a split water fitting on the coach (indicated by the badly-drawn arrow), which resulted in a major leak, which also resulted in the founding of Lake Pennington here on the premises of Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park.  What you see are repairs in progress, courtesy of Andy the RV Doctor ("I Make House Calls!").

 

What you also see are much less than optimal working conditions.  It's frickin' cold outside, Gentle Reader.

 

Right Now

 

More of this "Winter Wonderland" shit.  Does anyone have Algore's number?  I need to give that prat a call...

 

Committed to the Inter-tubes by Buck on 12/29/2009 10:25:00 AM 7 comments:

I don't miss livin' in El Casa Móvil De Pennington during the winter at ALL.

I Was Thinkin' I MIGHT Buy Another RV

If I could find one like this...

Heh.  Ain't that right up my alley... err, road?

H/t to Occasional Reader and Constant Correspondent Lin.

There and Back, Again

The best laid plans, and all that.  Earlier today I posted that I was off to Lubbock for a prostate ultrasound and biopsy, the latter of which I intended to refuse unless presented with a compelling case as to why I should go ahead and git'r'dun.  My urologist made his case, and quite persuasively, at that.  It seems like I was operating off an incomplete data set and when I was confronted with the whole set of numbers I opted for the biopsy.  Shorter:  55% of men in my age group with a Free PSA number of less than ten percent (scroll down for a table, if'n ya have a mind to do so)... and mine is eight percent... were found to have cancer.  So... we did it.

And it wasn't that bad.  A couple o' friends advised me of this in off-line conversations, and they were correct.  Which ISN'T to say this is sumthin' I'd want to do every day, or even once a year.  Nope, once is enough.  Once is MORE than enough, actually.

So there was this exchange along about the time the fourth of 12 slices/jabs in my nether regions were taken:

Dr. V:  You're beginning to be quite a pro at this.
Me:  I'd MUCH rather have retained my amateur status, thank ya very much. Heh.
Dr. V:  Well, Hey... you're really relaxed and you're able to laugh and joke about it, so that's good.
Me:  Being "relaxed" is entirely dependent on which side of this fence you're on at the moment, lemmee tell ya.
Dr. V:  Heh.

But yeah: lots of apprehension, not too much discomfort.  We get our results this Wednesday, when Dr. V makes one of his scheduled visits to P-Ville.

―:☺:―

In other news... El Casa Móvil De Pennington is sold.  I had to rush back from Lubbock to finalize the deal but, alas:  the frickin' DMV got in the way.  My buyer and I cooled our heels in line at the DMV today for one solid hour before we were informed by an oh-so-helpful civil servant "Oh, we aren't doing VIN inspections today.  You'll have to come back tomorrow."  Thanks, Lady... thanks a LOT.  For the uninitiated, New Mexico requires a VIN inspection by some sorta uniquely qualified individual before a title can be transferred.  Exactly what sort of qualifications or degree(s?) one needs to read a fucking number printed on a label in three or four places in any given vehicle is beyond me... but there ya go.  "We're from the gub'mint and we're here to help!"

Yeahrightsure.

I'll get my money tomorrow and we're VERY pleased about that.  Another page is turned...

My favorite pic of El Casa Móvil

How I Spent My Mornin', Or...

... it's always SUMTHIN', this time it's in the El Casa Móvil De Pennington Department.

Hookin' up

ECMdP, departing

Long story short: ECMdP won't start.  I tried everythang in my power... and in her prospective new owner's power, too... but nada.  So she's now in residence at the Ford House, where I have no doubt whatsoever that she'll soon be back in fine fettle.  I DO wonder, however, what the bill is gonna be.  No matter... what needs to be done, will be done.

Yes, I have a buyer... a retired couple who plan to use ECMdP for getaways and such.  They assured me they still want her, even if she embarrassed me by refusing to start for the test drive.

It's always SUMTHIN'.

Moving Day

We changed plans yet again and moved all our stuff from El Casa Móvil de Pennington to the new, non-móvil casa today.  Granddaughters Natasha and Felicity, assisted by Diego, Felicity's significant other, were the prime movers (heh) in this deal.  I mostly supervised and unpacked stuff, given my infirmities and all.  So, we are moved.  The whole moving thang took exactly four hours and 15 minutes, which is two hours and 15 minutes longer than Lis estimated.  "You have a LOT of stuff," said she in something like wonderment that all this shit could fit in such a small space.

Diego, Felicity, and I sat out on the porch after the moving was completed and knocked back a beer or four while I had a cigar.  Then Felicity and Diego were off, leaving me to deal with this:

We put the kitchen in some semblance of order and then called it a day and returned to El Casa Móvil de Pennington, mainly to tap out this "better late than never" post... because we still have innernets at the Casa Móvil.

Tomorrow we'll clean up the rat's nest that is ECMdP and continue to put things right at the new place.  And we'll prolly not spend much time on the 'net as we have other stuff to do.

O, Ye Me of Little Faith

I just got back from Homespot Properties with an executed lease and keys to the new apartamento in my hot lil hand, by way of the new place... where I took photos.  Real photos, using my camera and not that sleazy lil cell-phone camera.  To wit...

 The kitchen, shot from the living room.  That big-ass fridge has an ice-maker!  Yow!!

 Another kitchen shot.  Note the GREEN covering on the dishwasher is gone.  Thank The Deity At Hand for small favors.

 The living room, shot from the kitchen.  An area rug will be required and I might have one picked out.  We're still shopping, though.

The bathroom off the master bedroom.  Note the French doors.  Me likey.

I didn't take pictures of the empty bedrooms because they are... empty.  Nuthin' to see there; move along.  But we will take pics at a later date once the furniture is delivered, yadda, yadda.

So now we wait.  Is it Thursday yet?

―:☺:―

In other news... Andy the RV Doctor stopped by El Casa Móvil de Pennington today to tie up a loose end and do one final repair for me, that bein' replacing a broken latch on one of my downstairs storage bins.  Andy couldn't find a replacement latch anywhere so he fabricated one on the spot and installed same.  When he was done I asked him what the damage was and he replied "No charge.  You've been a great customer, so just consider this a going-away gift."  And then he left.

I'm gonna miss that guy... A LOT.  He pulled my tired ol' ass out of a lotta fires over the course of the last seven or eight years.  He's a REAL good guy, and there's your understatement for the day. 

Planning Proceeds Apace

This is actually kinda scary... everything seems to be going according to plan where the move is concerned.  Well, sorta.  I've yet to hear back from the moving company about my preferred move date, so we shall see how that shakes out.  Bekins will be executing the move, which contradicts earlier information I put out on the street.  Lemmee say this about that... DIL Erma ran into issues around cheap plane tickets and we both agreed that the Law Of Diminishing Returns comes into play here.  Neither she nor I were willing to pay full-freight for her ticket so she's not coming to assist, after all.  Cheap fares are good, when they exist... but full-freight from one small market to another is cost-prohibitive.

That said... we've arranged for satellite teevee to be installed on Wednesday (good-bye Comcast, and don't let the door bang ya in the ass on yer way out), my furniture will be delivered and set up on Monday, and all utilities have been contracted for.  I'll spend the coming days preparing for the move in small increments (like purging the contents of El Casa Móvil de Pennington of unwanted and unneeded items for to hold costs down, doing some preliminary packing, sorting, and what-not, etc., etc, etc.), which will prolly result in a crescendo of frantic activity this coming weekend... coz yanno there's always sumthin'.

The excitement mounts...

We Have a Date...

... a move-in date.  I was by the future Casa de Pennington earlier this afternoon and wandered about inside for a while before setting off on the rest of my errands.  While I was inside I took a few more really bad phone-camera shots which I feel I must inflict upon you, Gentle Reader.  So...

Notice I have a built-in industrial-strength nuker above where the stove will sit.  And the BEST thing of all: a dishwasher (never mind that GREEN color)!  Which will lead me to resume one of my favorite old habits: livin' out of the dishwasher.  You know... run a load of dirty dishes and then use them, transferring the used dishes to the sink until such time as the dishwasher is empty, then rinse, repeat.  Oh... YES!  And then there's the counter space, which should lead to a few cookin' orgies until such time as I tire of that sorta thang.  OTOH, I may never tire of bein' able to really cook again.  Let us pray...

So.  We then proceeded out to Cannon Airplane Patch to pick up this month's supply of meds, with the usual customary and quite reasonable stop at the Class VI store for still more beer.  On the way home I whipped into the property management company to see if 9/15 was still a realistic occupancy date and was assured I can take possession NO later than 9/16.  Huzzah, and all that!

So, Part II.  I've been severely beaten about the head and shoulders for the past week for not taking advantage of family when it comes time to move, what with me planning to engage professional movers to do the deed.  But, that said, last night I relented and allowed as how it would be OK if DIL Erma journeyed down to P-Ville from the Wilds O' Kansas for the express purpose of relocating me and my stuff from El Casa Móvil de Pennington to the non-Móvil Casa.

We discussed a 9/20 move date last evening... all that's left is to confirm same, buy Erma a plane ticket, and try not to chew off my fingernails while waiting for this thang to go down.

There is light at the end of the tunnel.  I think I'm gonna crack a beer or two to celebrate. 

Return With Us Now to Those Thrilling Days o' Yesteryear

I'm still mucking about in the archives, labeling posts and such.  In so doing I came across this lil gem from January o' 2008, when we were still deep in the presidential campaign...

Heh.  As I said before, Bowie would be PROUD.  That said, the change we wanted doesn't quite measure up to the change we got, does it?

Added, somewhat later:  Further to the archives, this bit...

Click to embiggen

It’s WAR! Normally I’m a live-and-let-live kinda guy, and my tolerance extends to creatures great and small. Included in the “small” community are various bugs, with the exception of flies and mosquitoes, which are terminated immediately with extreme prejudice…always. Take spiders, for example. Spiders are generally good, as they eat other small critters and generally stay out of my way. And I enjoy their webs, which are both small-scale engineering feats and supremely artistic, as well…as anyone who’s seen an early morning web covered in sparkling dew will attest.

My tolerance ends, though, when spiders begin to overwhelm my personal space and get presumptuous about territory and such, thinking it’s theirs for the taking. While I love and appreciate outdoor webs I don’t like to see the things hanging off my table lamp, or worse, have a small spider drop down on a gossamer filament right in front of my face while I’m surfing the other web (heh). And that’s just in the front of the house. Things get worse, much worse, as you move to the rear of El Casa Móvil De Pennington. Lately I’ve been involved in a daily ritual that involves wiping away webs that have been spun overnight in both the bathroom and the kitchen, and the spiders have become so numerous that they’re scurrying around in plain sight. It’s time for a new strategy: we’re gonna surge.

It appears that GHQ Arachnid is located in the bathroom. Yesterday I took extreme measures on the HQ… emptying both bathroom cabinets, thoroughly cleaning out the spaces, and finishing off by liberally spraying the interiors of both cabinets and the surrounding baseboards with Raid. Result: no webs in the bathroom this morning. The kitchen will be a little more problematic because I don’t want to engage in unrestricted chemical warfare in that operational area. The risk of collateral damage (to YrHmblScrb, hisownself) is just too high. So we’ll just content ourselves with applying forceful thumb pressure on the little terrorists as they transit from nook to cranny. And waging chemical warfare along the baseboards and other spaces in the kitchen where the risk of collateral damage is low.

We have evidence the surge is working, as noted above. There will be NO political settlement and we’ll take no prisoners. All I’m asking is a return to the status quo ante or, in other words, if the spiders stay in their space, I’ll stay in mine.

Peace in our time.

The pic is unrelated to the bit above; it's from another, later post that also featured chemical warfare upon intruding arachnids.  That one was scary, Gentle Reader.

Further, and unrelated... I'm simply amazed at all the Tube O' You vids that have gone missing over the years.  Some have disappeared due to copyright violations, some for account deletions/closure, and some for no reason at all except perhaps for the fact they just got old.  Which contradicts the assumption that "the inner-net is forever," coz it AIN'T, when it comes to videos.

Big Doin's...

... at El 'Muerto en el Agua' Casa Móvil de Pennington today.  SN1 will be on the scene in about a half-hour or so and we shall attempt to remove the 'Muerto en el Agua' from ECMdP and make her truly Móvil once again.

Later on today we shall look a lot like this, regardless of the outcome:

It's nice to have company for Happy Hour and it's even nicer if one has an occasion to celebrate.  Wish us luck.

Update, 1345 hrs:  Well, that was easy.  We were done in an hour and a half, max.  "Done" simply means replacing the battery and adding five gallons of new gas (and a quarter bottle of gas line cleaner) to the nearly empty tank.  We checked all the fluid levels and other such stuff, turned the key and ECMdP fired right up.  And I mean RIGHT up... there was zero hesitation, no screeching noises, no drama at all... just the sound of a smoothly running V-10.  It was like I started her about an hour ago, not four years.

I will never, ever speak poorly of Ford products again.  Not once, not even.  I mean... ECMdP (which is on a Ford E-450 Super Duty chassis) sat for four years without ever being turned over and then she just fired right up.  I AM impressed, not to mention relieved.

So.  SN1 and I cleaned up a bit, popped a couple o' beers, and smoked cigars in celebration.  All is right with the world. 

Find the Difference

Remember those old cartoon kid games where you'd be presented with two cartoon images and ask to find eight or ten differences between the two?  Well, try your hand at this and find two differences:

The first is easy... wet versus dry.  The second one?  No tree to the right of The Green Hornet (her left, actually, but right in the image).  The tree is just flat freakin' gone.

Further about this... I could have titled this post "I sleep waaay too well," mainly on account o' because the missing tree was the FIRST thang I noticed when I raised the shades this morning upon awakening.  The fact I slept through the felling of a tree... with accompanying chainsaw noises... amazes me.  It troubles me, too.   What if I'm sleeping too deeply when the Zombie Apocalypse comes?  I'll be TOAST, Gentle Reader, that's what'll happen.

The Die Is Cast...

... the Rubicon crossed, the barn door open, and a few other assorted clichés... feel free to add to the list.  We went out and ran our errands earlier today... drove over to The Big(ger) City™ for to get The Green Hornet washed, made an appointment to have TGH's balky windows fixed (the driver's side window lowers three inches and then quits, the passenger's window acts like it's on its last legs), and then stopped off in a local furniture store to do some browsing/window shopping for to furnish the new apartamento when that time comes.

I shouldn't have done that.

Mainly coz I bought this:

A lousy-ass phone pic

That's a powder blue (I think... it might could be gray, but it's sufficiently manly) sofa, love seat, coffee table, and two end tables... back to chrome and glass.  It ain't exactly Scandinavian, but it ain't Wild West or over-stuffed, either.  I also priced out a bedroom set, a dinette set, area rugs, a repository for the teevee and stereo, and a mattress but didn't pop for any of that stuff at this time.  I'm gonna get away a lil bit cheaper than I originally thought, what with the most expensive item on my list bein' a Tempurpedic mattress.  Those folks are right proud of their products...

But we have a beginning on the furniture... all we need now is a place to live.  Isn't there some sorta cliché about carts and horses?

An Unusual Occurrence

Rain!  And rain that fell straight down... vertically, rather than at our normal wind-driven, slashing 45 to 60 degree angle... which allowed me to sit outside under the awning and enjoy it.  Like this:

Oh My! but we did enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of this rain... for as long as it lasted, anyhoo, which was only about a half hour to 45 minutes.  Still, SOME rain is better than NO rain.  And don't I have pretty feet?  (for a guy... let's not get all hairdresser/interior decorator-like, not that there's anything wrong with that)

Take THAT, L-Andy.

Thinking About Options

I've been givin' some thought lately to changin' my lifestyle or, more specifically, to changin' my residence.  There's a lot to like about livin' in El Casa Móvil de Pennington... it's all mine to begin with (which makes the living rather inexpensive), and there's the undeniable cachet of livin' with all the other Swells here in Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park.  Still and even there ARE times when I think more space would be nice, a dishwasher would be nice, a washer and dryer of my own would be nice, and a normal-sized fridge and freezer would be nice.  And closets, plural.  All the stuff I had back in Former Happy Days, the stuff I gave up to go mobile, in other words.

So we received this in Friday's mail:

I seriously entertained goin' over to that event today but decided against it when I found out the place is a 96-unit assisted-living center... not to mention the fact it looks like your standard, run-o'-the-mill apartment building.  Nope... ain't gonna do that.  I want sumthin' more like a condo and I know those things exist.  So, it's back to the drawing board for more research.  I'm not in any hurry.

OTOH, I'm still thinkin' about gettin' a maid, which is the sort of "assisted living" I'm really in need of.  I'm lookin' for a nice, fine, upstanding mature woman who wouldn't mind doin' a lil light cleaning and cooking for a gentleman, among other things.  Someone of the "upstairs maid" persuasion, kinda like this:

Yeah... me and Neil:

I was thinking that maybe I'd get a maid
Find a place nearby for her to stay.
Just someone to keep my house clean,
Fix my meals and go away.

A maid. A man needs a maid.
A maid.

It's hard to make that change
When life and love turns strange.
And old.

Yup: "A man needs a maid..."

Miss Zukiko Update

I got a nice note from My Buddy Lee last week...

Comparing Miss Z to the Duck is high praise, indeed.  I only wish I had had the opportunity to exercise her in the manner she deserves and is currently getting.  Lee also enclosed Miss Z's license plate, which was placed upon the altar, like so:

Cue up Barbra...

Blue Highways

Blog-Bud Darryl has a recommendation for vacation travelers today, which essentially sez: "Get off them Interstates!"  I commented to the effect that I couldn't possibly agree more, given my modus operandi during ECMdP's coast-to-coast and border-to-border tour was ALL two-lane blacktop unless I had no other choice (see: crossing Utah and Nevada).  There were numerous bennies to this approach, including some (ahem) rather impressive windshield shots.  Like these (excerpted from an old post):

I have a rather extensive collection of windshield shots and assembled more than a few into collages that I mailed to friends during my coast-to-coast and border-to-border odyssey back at the turn of the century. Sooo... since I'm lacking in motivation today, herewith are a few of those collages. It's oh-so-easy to dip into the archives when all else fails, ya know. As always and ever... click to embiggen.

The approach to the Tetons and Yellowstone. There is some of America's BEST scenery on these roads. That's Kermie on the dashboard... my loyal and trusting travel companion. The best thing about him? He NEVER complained. Ever. May, 2000.

The first three shots in this collage were taken on a winding two-lane mountain road between Keno and Medford, Oregon. Not recommended if you have passengers prone to panic coz you're paying more attention to holding the camera than your driving. June, 2000.

Just some sky/horizon-shots I thought were rather dramatic. Late May, 2000.

Finally... a self-portrait. May, 2000.

You see some pretty cool stuff on those two-lane blacktops.  There's an additional benefit when traveling on 'em Out West: next to NO traffic.  I literally could go for hours and hours and not see another vehicle in some places.  It ain't the same Back East, although I realize YMMV. 

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack and... Dinner

It was a Grateful Dead kinda afternoon...

Gone are the days when the ox fall down,
Take up the yoke and plow the fields around.
Gone are the days when the ladies said' "Please,
Gentle Jack Jones won't you come home to me."

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on.

Ring a bell?  It does around here...

So we did Happy Hour and then adjourned to the great indoors to fix dinner.  A couple o' few days ago I went on about how I like those bag-dinners and we fixed one this evening.  Ever wonder how one cooks in an RV?  Wonder no more...

First we made some necessary adjustments so we could actually cook.  This is what the stove looks like when we're not cooking...

The first step is relocate the cigar stash and other crap to the bathroom, like so:

One gets double-duty from a lot o' things in an RV; this is auxiliary and temporary storage.  So then we began to throw dinner together.

Heating up the frying pan.  The instructions say to use a non-stick frying pan but a light coat of olive oil in a standard skillet does the trick, too.

Meanwhile, we were defrosting a handful of shrimp to augment the six teeny-tiny shrimp included in the bag.

In progress.

And then dinner is served:  Bertolli's Shrimp, Asparagus, and Penne in a bag; two slices o' bread; and a bowl of red grapefruit... all washed down with a vintage Dr. Pepper.  This will be followed by After Dinner Whiskey Hour, after I'm done watching this really cool CNBC teevee show on BMWs.

Heh. And Home.

From the Usual Source...

Yeah... you'll believe anything if you bought into that hopey-changey stuff.  How's that workin' out for ya, if ya DID buy into it?

We're back in P-Ville after an uneventful trip back home to Texas.  I can hear you now, Gentle Reader, when you say "Home?  What's with this 'home' stuff, Buck?"  I always get a feelin' of minor elation when I cross the state line into Texas and that's really a weird kinda thang, seein' as how I'm a Texan in name only.  What I mean by that is I carry a Texas driver's license, I keep Texas plates on my vehicles, and my "home of record" is in Livingston... a tiny lil burg about two hours north o' Houston.  But have I ever LIVED there?  No...

Some day I'm gonna pull the trigger and become a New Mexican.  I've been thinkin' about that for at least four years now and I just can't bring myself to do it.  It has sumthin' to do with that feelin' I get drivin' across the state line.  Well, there's that and the fact I pay no state income tax.  Naw, it couldn't be the taxes now, could it?

Hey! Guess What?

The wind died down to a manageable level... for a while, at least.  And it's relatively cool (a balmy 84 degrees), too!  Here's what we look like at the moment...

The only thing that's missin' is ME, and I shall be out under the awning with beer in hand very shortly.

Beautification Project

It occurred to me that Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park needs some sprucing up and I'm goin' to do MY part, said part bein' the installation of some tasteful statuary to be placed somewhere outside of El Casa Móvil De Pennington.  So I bought these:

Really.  I did.  Proof:

I have Scooney to thank for the inspiration.