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I have a worn out snow shovel I consider priceless. It'll only handle a tiny bit of snow; hence, it's easy for me to use. Like yours, mine's plastic, and about an inch wears off each season. Because of this, in my mind, it's getting better with age.
In our area, snow removal follows gender lines: The ladies use shovels and gentlemen use snow-blowers. I must confess that an enclosed snow removal machine with a heated cab has some attraction but garage space is limited. (And I'd rather have an air-conditioned lawn mower.)
All this is "silly thinking." It only takes me a few minutes to remove the snow. I like the exercise. And my only complaint is that the noise I makes enjoying my .MP3 player challenging.
I'm feeling this way in December. Maybe by March shoveling snow will have less appeal.
Cheers, PW.
Another White Privilege photo.
(The site blocks sharing images on I-Hub but the link seems to work OK.)
Cheers, PW.
With thanks to TimF on S-I.
Story
Cheers, PW.
Reporter does story on police response times in Detroit. . .
This year, I'm getting something for Christmas that I both want and will treasure -- Silence!
Yup! I'll be getting a gift certificate entitling me to an entire day without a word being spoken to me, and if I choose, not a word expected from me either.
Although this gift won't entail spending money, it won't be without cost. Providing it will take considerable effort. Pencil & Paper, E-Mail and Telephones will not be allowed to undermine this gift. And there won't be any "Mime" performances either.
I can't think of anything I'd appreciate more. (Except, maybe, multiple copies accidentally selected during printing!)
Cheers, PW.
P.S. Silence has been my Birthday gift for a few yeas now, explaining the ground rules' refinement.
The guy who promises to rob Peter to pay Paul can always count on the support of Paul. Politics is the art of convincing a nation of Peters that they'll be Pauls.
As people go though life, their experiences and observations teach then that their leaders see them as Peters. Once this lesson sinks in, the only sane response is to change who they support. This can explain why people are liberal when young and conservative when they mature.
Sadly, today's young people have been shafted both by being inculcated with the idea that they can have it all immediately, and by being denied the resources to get any of it. When was the last time we've seen the virtues of effort, honesty, patience, responsibility, etc. illuminated by a flattering light?
I can't blame the young people. They're victims. Unfortunately, they don't always see who has harmed them. Instead of confronting those responsible for their misery, they blame those who recognized the system was rigged against them and took the measures necessary for escape.
If I found myself trapped in a maze, I'd pay more attention to the people who discovered a route out than those who put me into it -- admittedly, this is a rather quaint approach.
Cheers, PW.
I'm very sorry to read about your loss and I wish you well as you walk this difficult path.
PW.
Sad news about Bob.
The story that comes to mind the most often when I think of Bob was when he had a "cool" friend living a few miles away, who, when visiting, Bob's daughter was delighted. One day, while driving near where the friend lived, Bob's daughter suggested they drop in. Bob replied "Maybe next time." The friend passed away a few days after.
A reminder to seize opportunities when they arrive.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. Bob frequently wrote stuff that resurrected a story from my memory that I couldn't resist sharing. I owe a thank-you to Bob for much of my comfort with participating on I-Hub.
Apparently, the Snowflakes are upset about Steve Martin engaging in a bit of "Cultural Appropriation."
. . . taking advantage of the extra hour of sleep.
Grrrr!
I hate the clock changing ritual that tortures me twice every year. It's like trying to make a rope longer by cutting off some at one end and tying it to the other. Politicians' fingerprints are all over this nonsense.
We tend to adjust our clocks before bed. Trouble is, I do a few and my husband does a few. Of course, this leads to a few getting skipped and some clocks getting a "Double Dose."
I awakened by my "Internal Clock" and noticed that I should get going. Because it's raining, the clouds prevented me from noticing the Moon was in the wrong place. I commenced my usual morning routine.
Mark Twain said that a man who owns a watch always knows what time it is, but if he owns two, he's never quite sure. I know how he felt. Every clock in our house tells a different time.
Sunrise is 7:04 Standard Time. My watch read 7:00, so I assume it's correct. However, my day began TWO hours early. On Sundays, I like to take a quiet spin along country roads, and end my travels by picking up a few groceries. If I did that today, I'd arrive at the store well before it opens. Bummer.
But it's not all bad. I enjoy the silence when I walk early. Normally, I'm out between 4:00 and 5:00, but today, I left the house at 2:00. As a bonus, I hit a brief interruption in the rain.
So what did I do with my "extra" time? I cooked. Now I have today's meals ready, and some of tomorrow's too. I was tempted to write something, but thanks to a dull life, there's nothing going on worth sharing.
Cheers, PW.
I don't know if this is accurate, but it sure "Seems" like it is. . .
Study
Cheers, PW.
This tune made me smile. . .
Because she's able to wiggle out of all that's thrown at her, this girl may have great future in politics. . .
What in the world are you going to do with the rest of your day now that you've brightened mine?
Nothing. And that's my fault.
It's very rare to be in such an overwhelmingly superior negotiating position. Only profoundly lucky experience this more than once or twice in a lifetime.
I could have been taken to a fine restaurant. I could be enjoying a holiday from housework for quite a while. Maybe a new "tech toy" would be on the horizon. But no. I rushed to the rescue without weighing my options.
Act in haste, repent in leisure.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. Just kidding! If I really wanted any of those things, all I'd need to do is ask. But it sure would've been fun to "seize the moment."
My head hurts today. And I deserve all the pain I get.
It's not nice to laugh at others' misfortunes, but that's what I did. I'm paying the price. Karma can be tough.
I was minding my own business, filling the kettle in anticipation of a well deserved cup of coffee when I heard The Commander shouting. Normally, when he shouts while I'm in the kitchen, he's taking a shower and I'm running water. Not this time though, because I'm not filling the kettle from the tap. My activity should have absolutely no impact on his shower water temperature. I decided to investigate.
When I entered the bathroom, things looked normal or at least normal for us. For most people, sitting in the shower would seem unusual, but he has a reason for this. He has wounds on his feet and he finds it easier to look after them while sitting.
Because he seemed unable to move, I assumed that he spent too long in this position and that one of his legs went to sleep. I found this amusing and started to snicker. He resumed his shouting. My first impression was wrong. Profoundly wrong!
Apparently, what happened was that while he was sitting, the water was forced to take a rather tortuous route to the drain. While doing this, the eddying currents has somehow caused a few of his arse hairs to form a knot. And these knotted hairs managed to get caught by the drain's strainer, securely locking him in place. He couldn't move an inch!
I started to laugh uncontrollably. As my knees started to buckle under the weight of my mirth, I reached for the door for support, and missed. Although I tried to break my fall, I wasn't totally successful, and hit my head on the towel rack as a consequence. Ouch!
My laughter ended immediately. But I was still stuck for a way to help my husband. My first thought was to reach under and attempt to untie him. This silly idea wouldn't work for a few obvious reasons. He suggested that we CUT him loose. I liked this idea better. Do I hand him a knife or scissors?
I have a pair of Childrens' scissors with blunt tips in my office. I fetched those. Fortunately, when I arrived at the shower, The Commander reached out and took them. I'm glad my participation in this endeavour ended here. I shudder at the thoughts of the next steps I'd be expected to take.
After quite a few failures, The Commander finally cut himself free. By this time, my head was really hurting, but I didn't want to say anything about it. I doubt I'd get much sympathy anyway, probably because I was still grinning like crazy.
It's nearly noon now, and this bit of excitement is behind us. (Pardon the Pun.) I can get on with my day. Also, I'm tempted to give him a new nickname, a promotion of sorts, from Commander to Rear Admiral.
Cheers, PW.
How America Went Haywire
When I was young and fit, I helped rural friends' parents with their hay harvesting. The bales were always tethered with twine. None used wire. But I suppose the phrase didn't originate out of thin air.
Admittedly, I only worked on a half-dozen different farms so my experience can hardly be considered representative.
Does anyone remember wire being used?
Cheers, PW.
P.S. I can't imagine wire being preferred over twine when I think of "stray bits" finding their way into what's fed to livestock.
P.P.S. Everyone I've heard use "Haywire" put the emphasis on the "Hay." I once had a professor trained in India who put his emphasis on the "Wire." He taught Electrical Engineering Circuits, so I suppose the "Wire" seemed more important that the "Hay."
Try saying it to yourself both ways and see if you agree that the Prof's way sounds silly.
A year or so ago, my laundry washing machine died. I replaced it with a "high efficiency low water use" machine that cost close to C$1,000.
I would've needed a "High efficiency low water use" toilet, to flush my money away with more frustration. The machine would "fill" with a few inches of water and complete it's washing cycle with my laundry floating on top. (Saves on drying cost because the clothes didn't get wet!)
Anyway, I don't want to dwell on that technology disaster. They had a 30 day money back policy and I wasted no time in using it.
I bought a "Commercial / Industrial" washer. This thing was designed for heavy continual use and abuse -- in other words, it's like they ALL were made a few years ago. It came in two configurations: Electronic control with a 5-year warranty and Manual with only a 4-year.
I felt the Electronic one would provide at the most about 6 trouble-free years and the Mechanical one maybe over twenty. I viewed the warranty differences as "Sucker Bait!"
And here's the interesting bit: The "Robust" machine only cost a pittance more!
I assume dryers have become just as awful as washers, but so far, my electric dryer still works -- fingers crossed. I have confidence my Solar powered dryer will outlast me. (Clothesline)
Cheers, PW.
P.S. It's amazing how often I take into consideration the life expectancy of purchases and compare them to mine. It makes me a careful shopper when I think "This may be the last one of these I buy."
A challenge. . .
Watch the first minute and quit without watching the whole video!
Warning! Adult content.
But funny as all get out. . .
SPEL CHEKKER
I have a spelling checker.
It came with my PC.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh.
My checker tolled me sew.
A checker is a bless sing.
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.
Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed too be a joule.
The checker pours o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.
Bee fore a veiling checker's
Hour spelling mite decline,
And if we're lacks oar have a laps,
We wood bee maid to wine.
Butt now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know fault's with in my cite,
Of nun eye am a wear.
Now spelling does knot phase me,
it does knot bring a tier.
My pay purrs awl due glad den
With wrapped word's fare as hear.
To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should bee proud,
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaw's are knot aloud.
Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft wear four pea seas,
And why eye brake in two averse
Buy righting want too pleas.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. And my first thought when I read "thong" was footwear.
Haven't gotten sick yet. . . It's just me.
My husband is quite sensitive to food quality. I'd never serve him anything but the freshest stuff available. Expiration Dates: Cut them in half!
On the other hand, what I can eat would make Buzzards sick.
I guess everyone's different.
The store where I usually shop puts pink stickers on items nearing their "Best If Used By" date. If I can recall correctly, the printing says "50% OFF" but when I read them, the message I get is "We've Saved This For You!"
Cheers, PW.
Ya gotta hand it to this gal for her determination. . .
Friday 13th. . .
The Weather Guy said it would be raining when I go for my morning walk today. A few drops were falling when I got up, but by the time I left the house, the rain had stopped and there were even a few dry patches on the road. I felt lucky.
But today’s Friday 13. It’s not supposed to be lucky. As I walked, my mind wandered. Soon a question came to mind: "Maybe it’s the wrong Friday 13?" We get two of them this year, October and January. I can’t remember January 13 so I assumed that with today being lucky, the earlier Friday 13 wasn't.
Then another question: "What about the years with three?" This led me to wondering when the next year featuring three Friday 13 will arrive. Since I don't carry a multi-year calendar while I walk, I had no choice but to use mental arithmetic.
Ok. To get three Friday 13 in one year, they must appear in February, March, and November. Obviously, it must be a Common year because the February 29 in Leap Years would push March 13 to Saturday. So I needed to find Common years with a February 13 Friday.
To make the arithmetic easier, I used a couple of shortcuts. First, any month with a Friday 13 must begin on Sunday. Easier still is to use January. I needed to find Common years where New Year's Day fell on Thursdays. This was relatively easy since it happened a couple of years ago and I could "Count and Skip when necessary" for subsequent years.
But going forward was discouraging. It seemed the weekdays for New Years Day jumped around quite a bit -- almost like they were trying to avoid Thursday. Eventually, I came to 2026.
If I'm lucky, I’ll forget about this stuff long before 2026 arrives and won't be worried about luck, either good or bad.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. The first Friday 13 in 2026, in February, will be 3045 days from today. (I didn't count this out on my fingers while walking.)
P.P.S. Millipedes can have up to 200 legs, depending on the species. If each leg has five toes, (which they don't!) even they couldn't count past July 2020!
P.P.P.S. Why do I think about this crazy stuff? How can I stop? I wish I could think about normal questions, like "Can a Kangaroo be trained to ride a bicycle?"
The problem with the damn computers is they do exactly what you tell them to do.
Maybe there's a bit of computer in people. . .
My biggest problems are lacking the strength that's needed at times
I can't believe how much time has passed since I wrote about taking Shop classes and dealing with the strength deficiency.
From 2001
Cheers, PW.
I have a computer on my desk. It's can check E-Mail, play games, and assist me with writing annoying messages on I-Hub.
I have a computer in my car. It can regulate fuel delivery, ignition timing, etc.
Because each is wired differently, they cannot perform one other's duties. Sure, they can in theory, but in practice, they cannot.
People are like that. We're locked into seeing the world filtered by our brain's wiring. In most cases, it's impossible to change. And we're all convinced that our way of interpreting things is correct; hence, opinions differing from ours must be wrong.
On rare occasions, an event rocks our world so much that we can no longer ignore the possibility we may be wrong and we can shed our blinders long enough to examine the evidence with an open mind. But the key word is "Rare" since it happens so seldom. But this doesn't deter people on both sides of the question from hoping to "enlighten" the other. And it's this hope that perpetuates the arguments.
So the short answer to your question, "Why do anti-gun people ignore facts?" is because they CANNOT do otherwise.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. An example: we had a Liberal Member of Parliament who was a strong supporter of the "Hug a Criminal" approach favoured by our Justice system. After his niece was raped, his views changed.
Reading your message resurrected a few long dormant memories. Like you, I've been on the receiving end when some guy thinks he can spout nonsense and get away with it because females don't understand science or technology.
In many cases, I take the "educate me" approach and ask for further explanation or clarification. This is the "giving them sufficient rope" part of my response. Usually, they reach the end of their knowledge quickly. Before this point is reached, I try to widen the audience by requesting "second opinions" from others. With luck, this sparks an argument and it's especially delightful when several uninformed people debate something they know little about.
If this fails, some profoundly simple questions usually stops them in their tracks. My favourite is to initially ask about the math. In those rare cases when the correct formula appears, my backup strategy is to inquire about the units of the values expressed by the formula. I can count using the toes on my left hand how many times these two hurdles have been overcome.
Sometimes, they're so dense that they don't realize when they're in way over their head. Depending on how irritating they were, I choose an appropriate exit strategy. This can be a simple thank-you if I want a quick and painless ending or a detailed inventory of errors, logic lapses, or contradicting evidence if I'm feeling the urge to humiliate or retaliate.
On those few occasions when the person really knew his material and the "bluffing" was not necessary, the communication tone was always a wish to share something interesting and not an attempt to elevate themselves at my expense. Years later, I still treasure the memories of these encounters.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. I LOVED the impedence problem. Since Impedence calculations often involve imaginary numbers, the opportunities to expose the guy's limited knowledge approachd infinity.
When the weather turns cooler, engine oil becomes more viscous and drivers should allow their engines to reach operating temperature before they demand maximum power production. In simple terms, "Warm it before you Floor it."
I think the same can be said about blood. After this morning's walk, I found myself more cooled than cooked. When I sat down in front of the computer to survey the news, I encountered this headline: "Supremes look ready to end compulsory union dues"
What on Earth is going on? I couldn't begin to even imagine the connection. To gain some understanding, I needed to click on the article and read further.
Oops! It's about a case before the Supreme Court.
I was trying to reconcile the headline with the wrong Supremes!
Oh well, at least I got a chuckle out of it.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. The Article
P.P.S. The correct Supremes. . .
CCleaner allows users to select between removing all files in the Temp folders and Recycle Bin or to only delete those that have been there 24 hours or more.
To access this setting, click on Options, then select Advanced and a number of choices become available.
Cheers, PW.
P.S.
People who rely on CCleaner may wish to expand the program's abilities by enabling it to remove junk from applications in addition to it's normal function of clearing garbage from Windows. CCEnhancer makes this easy.
It's a small tool that comes pre-configured for a huge number of popular applications. It also allows users to customize its work by adding applications, (or removing unused defaults.)
CCEnhancer
"This sounds really bad. Am I going to jail tonight?"
I'll bet it smells really bad too!
Seriously, the girl is 25 years old. With so many of her age, her maturity is best expressed in "Dog Years" -- putting her somewhere around three, or four at the very most. Couple this with the brainwashing that passes for education these days, and it's a miracle she get her shoes on the correct feet.
I don't think prison is the answer for her. Since she hates America and loves America's enemies, drop her off in one of those many Hell Hole nations she views so fondly. I'm sure the locals will keep her busy. After all, in those parts of the world "Gentlemen Prefer Blonds."
Cheers, PW.
P.S. While I was thinking about this girl's plight, the question came to mind: "If a Robot commits a crime, do we punish the machine or the person who programmed it?" This led me to consider if anyone else shares her guilt. I think there are plenty involved. Teachers, Media, Parents, Coworkers, Supervisors, Friends, . . . The list seems endless. They're considered blameless, unfortunately, even though they may have played key roles. But at the end of the day, this person did have a choice, and she didn't choose wisely.
While watching the video of the guy with the shark gripping his belly, I couldn't help but appreciate his good fortune that he didn't skip wearing swimming trunks while in the water.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. Norwegian Police responding to a call. . .
You'll need to enable Subtitles (unless you understand Norwegian.)
It's cool here today, and windy.
I find wind difficult. It's too cool walking into it and too warm when it's in my back. Today, I wore my jacket for half the distance and carried it the other half. I musta swapped it on or off a dozen times. Not a big problem, except when stuff falls out of a pocket.
I love seeing the stars when I walk. I try to contemplate the distances, but can't. To me, the closest star at 4.5 light-years, still seems far away. As well, Binary stars look like one. I'm reminded how little I know about things -- like how are eclipses calculated.
My favourite stars are the ones that cross the sky quickly. They're also colourful, flashing green on the right and red on the left.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. I can recognize a few constellations, but for the life of me, I cannot "connect the dots" and see how they resemble the figures we've assigned to them.
I like to wear shorts when I walk in the Summer, but for me, Summer ends in early November after the first serious snow accumulates on the ground. It's not the temperatures that motivate me to give up my shorts, it's the snow getting into my shoes. And it's not really the snow that's the problem, it's the mixture of road salt and snow that turns to slop I hate. I won't mention struggling to untie ice-encrusted laces.
Having said this, when I put my shorts away for the Winter, they stay put away until Spring. I have no desire to face February in shorts, even if the roads are bare.
Unlike the people in the article you shared, I don't see shorts as acceptable when others are expecting more traditional choices. I see it as a question of courtesy. I've outgrown the desire to "shock" or "rebel" decades ago and I'm sure the 20 somethings in the article will mature in time as well.
Still, it feels good to know that others enjoy an extended shorts wearing season too.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. This Summer, I had to wear my Winter parka a few times. I probably looked equally silly!
This video uses high-speed photography and transparent materials to show how rifle suppressors function. It's more than just a few shots with different calibers -- there's some explanation of design considerations as well.