The Ultimate Answer to Kings

I spend every winter basically sitting around, which means that in spring I’m a superannuated sack of jello. Takes a while to get into some semblance of shape. Today I cut all that wood that’s been leaning against the cabin for 2-3 months.

First I had to chop up those pallets I’ve been bringing home from D&L’s expensive winter, a chore I tried once before but then had to send away for a new part for my Sawzall.

In that incident we established that the cabin’s power system will run the Sawzall but not the table saw. So a couple of days ago I brought my beloved, very expensive Honda generator, a gift from a Generous Reader five years ago, out of mothballs.

Gad, I love that thing, and treat it very gently.

Anyway: after Phase One I have a pile of old lumber and things get easier.

I get almost four full wheelbarrows out of the deal…

…and rather ironically start the warm season with 2 and a half full tiers in the woodshed.

Which will make things a lot easier in the autumn. I’m not getting any younger.

Don’t know why, though I can guess one of the past week’s windstorms might be to blame, but Phoebe decided to build a new nest.

It’s bigger! It’s better! It’s…still on the windward side of the cabin, so WTF, Phoebe?

I noticed a day or two ago that she was approaching and leaving the cabin from directly above the bedroom window instead of off to the corner, but didn’t go out and find out why till this morning.

And she’s doing the finishing touches. While I was snapping a picture, she came back with a beak full of fluff for the interior.

As for me – I spent much of yesterday morning in bed with the worst migraine in years. It got better, I was able to do the Monday water run with D&L in the afternoon, but I was washed out and at best 70% for the whole day. Better this morning, I think, and I do have quite a list of things I need to get done before it gets hot.

…and need to pretty constantly be put back together. A lot of this is due to poor construction in the first place: I never claimed I knew what I was doing. Living here is the very model of learning on the job.

But also sometimes it wouldn’t matter if Leonardo Da Vinci built it, it’s going to fall apart. This morning I took the Jeep into the wash to pick up that one target I put there two years ago.

The target itself, of course, is rusty but otherwise just fine. But the frame…

…which is made of scrounged 2X4s, got floppy and is basically on the ragged edge of simply falling apart under the weight.

So today I’ll take it apart and figure out how to Build Back Better. Maybe I’ll ask the prez for advice.

No, on second thought probably not.

If you’ve ever raised your own laying hens you already know that very young and very old hens tend to produce problematic eggs. Like, eggs with shells so thin they don’t survive the visits of subsequent hens to the nesting box. Broken eggs in a nesting box make a mess, and not just of the box. Any other eggs in the box will share the fun.

If, like me, you have a bunch of dumbass hens who refuse to acknowledge the presence of more than one nesting box, then before you can actually use the eggs you have to do things like this…

…which is no big deal, really, but sheesh. Chickens can be gross.

It’s been eight years since a Generous Reader sent me my Slime tire inflation compressor. For such a cheesy-looking thing it has held up remarkably well and done me many services.

It has gotten a tad beat up in the process…

I had to cut off the cigar lighter connection and solder on some battery clips. I actually did that almost the very first thing and it’s not the compressor’s fault – the Jeep’s cigar lighter couldn’t handle the amp draw.

And that lamp on the end never did work, and eventually fell right off. Not that I really cared: I literally am never out of arm’s reach of a flashlight even while sleeping, so didn’t need that.

But the important part, the tire inflator, keeps chugging along nicely.

I was doing some PM on the Jeep this morning. Topped off the tires for the first time since Autumn, and that tool proved its worth all over again. It also comes out when I have to deal with the ebike’s tires, so basically it gets a lot of use. I think kind thoughts about the person who sent it to me every time it does, and if I ever have to replace it I’ll probably just go ahead and buy one just like it. Maybe without the lamp.

Maybe he’s just trying to lull me into a false sense of security, but I’m getting the notion that Tobie may be leaving his Obnoxious Puppy phase. The horrid chewing and wanton destruction of my property has ceased. I can leave him alone for trips to town without very much fear of what the Lair will look like when I return. And he’s (rather suddenly, which is why I mistrust this) not being as much of an exhausting jackass when I take him out on the leash.

This last part is well timed and very welcome, because this is the time of year when I like to start my days with a long sweaty walk and Tobie would be welcome to come with if only he didn’t turn every outing into an infuriating battle of wills. Which, as previously mentioned, he hasn’t been doing for the past week or so. In fact, this morning he was largely more-or-less on heel. Which, coming from Tobie, is practically scary.

From his point of view, a less-grumpy Uncle Joel is a more-pleasant-to-be-around Uncle Joel. Also from his point of view, it seems…

Uncle Joel tends to be a rather determined morning walker. Which is more work than he may have signed up for. About 2/3 of the way home, Tobie signaled that he was done with this now. Unfortunately, we weren’t home yet.

Just shy of eighty bucks. Gas hasn’t been this high since the Obama administration. Of course back then I couldn’t afford to fill 3 and a half gas cans at a go.

The good news (for me) is that, barring an unexpected paying gig, this will last me through May. The bad news is probably whatever gas costs at the end of May.

Wow, that was a good one. Started early yesterday morning – most big wind doesn’t really get started until noon or after – and blew so hard that when I actually went out in it for Tobie’s mid-day walkie the sand off the wash about blinded me.

In a good wind, footprints are gone in a day. In a big wind, Jeep tracks are gone in a day.

I was happy to build the Lair down in a hollow for two reasons: Wind and lightning. And even so the place has been struck by lightning, and yesterday the wind meter on the woodshed showed gusts to 35ish mph. Up on the ridgetops it was downright unpleasant. Found no damage at either place during the morning walkie, though.

I picture craftsmen, somewhere near an arms bazaar in Peshawar, rolling on the ground howling with laughter. Nearby, a grizzled former mujahid drinks tea and ponders dark thoughts, wondering how Americans ever got such a fearsome rep.

What I wonder…this thing looks like it’s been fired. But that can’t really be true.

More, much more

What we have here is a clear case of goathead thorn. I mean I can see the thorn in the tire, surrounded by soapy bubbles.

So I spent my one spare tube, which with 4-inch tires is not a difficult task.

But then I ran into a problem when I set out to patch the old tube. Recall that the first time this happened, I could never find anything wrong with the tube. Thing is, I never actually looked for a leak on the wheel: I just naturally assumed I’d punctured the tube, but then I could never find anything wrong with the tube. I now think if I’d put that tube back on, it would have gone flat promptly. Because I can’t find a leak on this tube either! Even though I know it has a puncture.

The big fat tubes can’t get enough pressure, unfettered by a tire, to even register on a gauge. So if you’re looking for a microscopic hole to patch, how do you find it if it won’t leak? I’ve got two old punctured tubes – and no new ones – and a perfectly good patch kit. But I can’t get soapy bubbles out of either one.

Glad this didn’t happen on the side of the road – either time.

I’m going to buy a couple of new tubes, then start carrying one in a pannier.

…on the ebike.

This happened once before, in 2019 shortly after I got the bike. No explanation: I came into Ian’s to get it and the front tire was utterly flat. At the time I assumed I’d run over something and went ahead and swapped out the tube, but there was nothing in the tire and the tube held pressure for months.

This time, exactly the same thing. I parked the bike with no problem, came back a few days later to a completely flat front tire. This time I just aired it back up and rather timidly…

…rode it to town and back. A trip which was completed with no problem whatsoever. It’s kind of mystifying: I’m pretty sure nobody’s sneaking into Ian’s Cave and matchsticking my bike tire.

Tobie and I were out doing chores this morning, specifically cleaning out the little tin storage shed behind the cabin. I have let it and the powershed get out of control, and one of the early season tasks is to fix that.

Is that a handsome young man or what? And being such a very good boy, too. Anyway…

I happened to see a flicker of activity at the Lair’s SW corner. Went and looked…

And yup. Every Spring since I put up the addition in 2017, the exact same spot. Definitely wasn’t there a couple of days ago.

Normally Phoebe is very skittish around me and I can’t get photos. But this time she posed for a beauty shot…

…which leads me to wonder if it’s even the same bird. How long do small migratory birds live, anyway? I don’t know. Maybe this is one of the original bird’s daughters?

Getting a good permanent seal – or any real seal – between a cement block wall and a wooden windowframe is probably a known art.

We just don’t happen to know it. And after several years of weather drying out caulk and shrinking wood…

Well, nobody’s looking for perfection but this may be taking imperfection to unnecessary extremes. So…

…Tobie and I expended our caulk stash getting a start on going all the way around Ian’s two big windows, inside and out, before the cracks get so big snakes can slither through.

“You’re ready for your walkie, is what you’re saying.”

“Tobie, it’s 6:30 in the morning. Just because it gets light earlier doesn’t mean we have to do everything earlier.”

It’s a super windy day, with temps unlikely to get out of the fifties. So I’m cocooning indoors today.

A little discouraging to look out my bedroom window and watch the wind bounce tumbleweeds up my driveway from the wash, when I just finished clearing the homegrown ones out of my yard. But such is life.

Anyway, I was idly rummaging in my pocket and came up with an Olight i1R2 keychain light that a Friend of the Blog recently sent me along with some other useful stuff, and got to thinking about how the past couple of decades have been an inadvertent tutorial in flashlight trends. I’ve been carrying this one in my pocket for the past week or two, to see if that might be more practical than my favorite BLF belt light and maybe get some crap off my belt. My tentative conclusion is that it’s possible for everyday tech to get too small for practicality.

I mean, I get it: The Olight is obviously meant for a keychain and in that application it might well be perfect. It’s a fascinatingly clever little thing, and really bright in high mode. I’ll find a place for it. But for everyday use I prefer something I can work with one hand.

But that being the way my mind was working, I got to thinking about lights I’ve carried at different times. Walked around digging them out of their various cubbies…

They keep getting smaller, but no less capable. Off grid, you frequently find yourself in dark places very far from a light switch. And so you will also find yourself collecting flashlights. When I moved here I wasn’t aware that fancy lights were a thing, with their own vocabulary – which I’ve never bothered to learn – and practically their own culture. There are fora devoted to the things. I have learned not to mock.

That little light second from the right is a favorite, which I carry when I dress for town and leave most of the belt kibble at home. Gets a lot of use out of a AAA battery, I must say. But for everyday use, I like a tool I can just grab and use. Don’t want to rummage around in a pocket, don’t want to fiddle with it. And that’s why I keep ending up with all this dumb stuff on my belt, I guess.

So for my uses, I’ve settled on a BLF light that a reader sent me almost seven years ago. I mocked it at the time because it’s got like seven different modes, only two of which I ever use. But it’s a remarkably good tool, and I’ve gotten an enormous amount of use from it. Big enough to need its own holster, but the way I walk around most days that’s really a plus. Others’ mileage will vary greatly, but that’s cool. Different tools for different applications.

Nothing much going on around the Secret Lair over the past few days, just minor chores and getting myself into some sort of shape for summer. Since there’s still nothing really worth talking about but I’m aware of having neglected the blog, I brought the camera along on a morning walkie.

Spent part of the weekend working on “just what breed of dog is Tobie, anyway?” Early on, I assumed he was an Anatolian mix. Lately I’m starting to wonder if he isn’t a purebred ASD. Longtime readers might recall what a homely adolescent Little Bear was. Very much a Heinz 57 mutt, LB seemed to grow unevenly in different directions at different times. But Tobie’s growth has been much more…together. Having looked at a hundred pictures of pedigreed ASDs, I just don’t see any way he looks different from that. The only way he doesn’t match the mold is that Anatolians are supposed to be suspicious of strangers, but he loves to meet new people. Maybe standoffishness is a mature trait? I don’t know.

When I and Neighbor L encountered him at that shelter eleven months ago, he struck me as a puppy who’d been well cared for but who had recently experienced something very unpleasant. He wasn’t at all keen to make new friends and was lay-down-and-piss-himself terrified of getting into a car or truck – but other than that he didn’t in any way come across as feral or damaged. And – once he decided I wasn’t going to be another circle of hell – he was very rambunctious and adventurous. He really wanted to go exploring on his own.

Which caused me to develop a sort of scenario of the events that led him to that loud, unpleasant concrete cage. I strongly suspect that he regarded his “rescue” as more of a kidnapping. The lady at the shelter said he was turned in by two people who claimed he was ‘a stray,’ and that was all she knew. I can picture him being in a pedigreed litter, somehow getting free of his safe yard with his safe family to go on a Grand Adventure, and innocently pissing off some asshole – knowing Tobie, probably by digging up a flower bed – who bundled him into a car and delivered him to a shelter far from Mama and his siblings.

Which is why I’ve said a hundred times – tag your frickin’ dog*.

Anyway – somebody’s loss was my gain, and in any case I set out to talk about walkie time. Continue reading →

So several days ago I noticed that the concrete pier on one of Ian’s porch columns, not very deeply or well planted, was trying to escape. I’m a couple of days behind schedule on fixing this but Tuesday turned very windy and yesterday afternoon I went to the biggish town about 35 miles away and was there all afternoon. But today I got’er done.

Continue reading →

Another beautiful spring morning. By far the coolest we’ve had in the past week, which was really kind of welcome…

…because I laid a fire after the last one, as always, but that was like two weeks ago and I was starting to wonder if I should take the kindling out and put the stove to bed for the season. Kind of figured the month might have one more frosty morning in it, so I let it be. But this is the last: I’ll clean out the firebox today, give the pipe a sweep, then carry the last of the woodbox’s contents out to the shed. We might have a few more cool mornings before we’re done but none that will get more than a morning sweater – barring something freakish, of course, which is never out of the question.

I was glad there was no actual frost, because the pear tree is blooming…

Don’t know whether it’ll fruit again this year. Not really planning on it, but if it does I’ll be better prepared than last year.

I have quite a lot to do today, so Tobie and I went for our morning walkie a bit early. Continue reading →

When I looked at the forecast a few days ago, I wrote off Tuesday for most outdoor activities. When the only thing the weatherman can think to say about a high desert day in April is “windy,” he probably means it.

This is where my driveway spills out onto the wash. Can’t even tell Tobie and I were here a couple hours ago. April is always windy. But there’s windy and then there’s “what percentage of a gale is it?” I’m getting 30mph gusts down in my hollow; that’s nothing to what’s happening on the ridgetops.

Spring wind didn’t used to bother me much, but the older I get the wimpier I get. Nice and warm, though. That makes a big difference.