Random Question of the Moment

What does your ideal home look like?

Something had posed that question to blog-owners/admins a bit ago.

Of course, Pumba said, “Home is where your rump rests.” My needs are simple. And this is, of course, where we find ourselves presently in life.

But having a think on it, our ideal home would be tolerant of:

– periodic high winds. I think the county calls for engineering for 80 MPH.

– extremes in temperature — from -15F to 115F (it’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home).

– moderate snow-load. We can see a single snowfall of about a foot.

A covered, secure garage large enough to park a car, while working on the other.

Providing the household’s water needs. This 1/2 gallon per minute (maybe) nonsense is tiresome. Clearly, that means drilling a new well.

And, while the view isn’t much to look at, but this is where we’ve found ourselves, so I’d to have a view of the farmland around us.

Have a crafting/hobby space.

And capable of delivering sufficient power for our needs.

Oh, and paid for.

Which Is It?

I’ve long wondered, but lacked the intellectual inertia to explore or even pose the question.

Which of these is the correct spelling and application of the phrase?

– For Fuck Sake

– For Fucks Sake

– For Fuck’s Sake

Discuss amongst yourselves.

Incontinence?

You might think that, at the geriatric age of 18 years, she may have started leaking a bit—having a bit of trouble holding her oil.

Depends.

No, she’s not seeping oil.

She’s marking her territory.

Also, I’ve put it off long enough. It’s time to tear her down and overhaul the engine, transmission, fork seals, rear axle.

Basically everything.

Crazy? Probably Not…

…but…

I’m grabbing a couple of tools from our Tool Cabana to go work on the leading edges of the wings. It’s noisy here: diesel engines, power units, occasional jet engine. And I hear, very distinctly (though surrounded by noise) The Moonlight Sonata. What the?

From the battery charger.

I comment, “I hear music.“

The crew thinks I’m hearing things.

“My dudes…I swear I hear The Moonlight Sonata.”

A few guys comment that, “oh, I think the charger is broken.”

“No, that’s most definitely Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.”

“Bea who?”

“Ludwig van Beethoven. He was a composer. And why do I hear Beethoven right now? Did I hit my head again?!”

Apparently, it’s a feature.

The crew still thinks I’m a crazy old guy. Don’t care.

And because I can’t leave well-enough alone, I changed each of our six chargers to a unique charge notice.