So apparently when I opened the furnace this afternoon, it blew out the gas light? It wasn’t until late night TV time that we all starting whining about being cold that I discovered it.
There was an instruction sheet attached to the inside of the panel that had me crawling around smelling for gas. THANK GOD I had not eaten any hard boiled eggs today.
The instructions for resetting the thing were pretty straightforward though, and soon we were all comfortable. I’m still glad we bought a house with gas, the energy bills are dirt cheap compared to the old place.
I’ve only begun to figure out where to put my tools and other junk that goes in the garage here at the new place, it’s a two car garage, you would think there would be plenty of room for a car, a ping pong table, tools, yard stuff, etc. Maybe someday.
I was at the Goodwill today and was surprised how many battery operated drills they have. I guess when the battery dies and won’t charge, people just buy a new drill instead of getting another battery at Amazon or whatever.
My mother loved anthropomorphic characters, like Fred Flintstone’s turtle lawnmower, who would pause, look at the camera, and say “It’s a living.”
So it’s no surprise that she cut this (cat litter ad?) out of a magazine, framed it, and hung it in the bathroom for everyone to enjoy.
Later I inherited it, and it hangs in the bathroom here. It was my sisters-in-law’s first visit since we moved, and they were taking turns going in the bathroom, turns out they all wanted to giggle at the cute picture. Thanks mom!
Not sure where I dug this up from, but I am pretty sure my dad worked here or in a very similar situation, when he was a draftsman.
He once told me that for a while, they wouldn’t issue a new pencil unless you brought them your used-up stub, and they would measure it to make sure it was used up enough. Have you guessed Boeing yet?
The guy with the pipe seems to be looking at a vacation snapshot. It’s tough to get back into the groove after a nice vacation. You have to adjust your depth perception so your rut feels like a groove.
I got this toothpaste squeezer on a whim because I like gadgets. It costs $9.99 – Only now doing the math on that. Rounding up because Teresa does most of the shopping and does not even look at grocery prices as far as I know, say 30 cents an ounce.
The catch is, even with three people sharing the tube, a seven ounce tube would have 350 brushings in it, using 6 a day, that’s around two months. I reckon this device would rescue a quarter’s worth of toothpaste on each tube, that’s $1.50 a year. So it will break even at about six and a half years.
That’s assuming it doesn’t go missing- Teresa said it would be handy to make crinkly paper(?)
We finally got a house with an extra room that I have claimed for my computer, books, etc. but I am at a loss when it comes to naming it.
Most would call it a “Home office” but that would oblige me to somehow generate income in here.
Back in the day, it would be called a “Den”, and it does have the shag carpeting… But the main definition for that word is “The lair of a wild, usually predatory animal” and the secondary definition calls it “a center of secret activity”. Kinda creepy.
Recently there was a fad of creating a “Man Cave” which I dismiss out of hand as sounding idiotic. Anyway, it generally requires a large screen TV and a handy source of beer, neither of which would fit in here. Nor would the group of sports fans that it would attract.
Oh! Nevermind… Just noticed that the name of this particular home office is right there, above the door.
I always mail things with trepidation, like sending a kid to summer camp. Sometimes I read “human interest” stories about a letter that was mailed decades ago being found inside a wall, or under a supervisor, or stuck behind some ancient machine at the post office, and then they dutifully track the recipient down, but she married someone else and he ended up joining the Peace Corps, when otherwise they would have gotten married and had a son who would cure cancer.
But I digress. I will mail stuff because it’s cheaper than driving to Teaneck, New Jersey from Washington state, and faster too. Things generally show up intact; maybe the instructions I scrawl on the package help?
Santa brought an Amazon Dot for Daphne, and I was skeptical. But Alexa amuses me… I asked her, “Who put the bop in the bop-she-bop-she-bop?” and she replied “I’d like to shake his hand! He made my baby fall in love with me.”
She also knows how much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
I was cutting through the toy department at Fred Meyer but these unicorns stopped me in my tracks. These unicorns “really poop!” Why is that a good thing? I guess it draws attention away from the fact that they all look like Miss Piggy going to a rave.
If I was a department store Santa, I would say “You’ll poop your eye out kid!” and then shove the little tyke down the slide.