100 Words or Les Nesman!: kahlua adhesive design

My second submission to 100 Words… write what you know I always say.

Three months it waits. Quiet. Dark. A hangover hiding in a pickle jar. But today Bobby will reach into the back of the hutch and draw it forth, left hand gripping the green and black metal lid, the right cradling the white sea-bottom design of label adhesive. Once merely water, sugar, instant coffee and grain alcohol, but no more.  A quick turn and ladle over the rocks, a taste for proof, the required kaleidoscopic visions of cocoa butter-tanned abdomens gyrating to opulent equatorial rhythms, the oil-back concoction into elixir transformed. Ahh, homemade kahlua. Bobby parties like a rich man tonight.  

Think Pink

Well, the great insulation installation is completed. 15 rolls of  insulation, 4 days of going into the crawl space, 1 outfit washed 5 times. Maybe not everyone’s idea of vacation, but it should cut down on the drafts and hopefully the power bills come the long expensive winter.

The old insulation was R-7 and spottily applied. The new is R-19 and put up over the old stuff  per the suggestion of a few experienced house builders. The insulation itself was a lot easier to handle than I expected. The old stuff was invasive, getting into and through clothes. I didn’t have a problem with the new stuff, though I did my best to avoid skin contact.

The biggest challenge was where the crawl space got tight  with about 16 inches between the sand and the wood. Crawling was impossible, wiggling and rolling was the order of the day. Fortunately the tightest spots were under the living room  and away from the vents where the spiders had made inroads. I only saw one black widow and a couple mousy brown tunnel spiders the entire time under the house.  One ancient snake skin and the husks of some 5-inch millipedes as well. If I had seen any live snakes, the whole project probably would have been postponed.

No nightmares yet, though I was pretty sure at the time I had some in my future. We’ll see.

A Time To Rest

I'm taking a week off from my "day job." I hope to clear the yard of hurricane debris and reinsulate the underside of the house. I'm off like gangbusters so far.

No, not really.

But what's a vacation for if you don't rest, right? I'll be in touch.

After the Storm

Perhaps now is the time to emerge.

The thought flickered like far-off lightning. Darker thoughts followed.

As if it were that simple. As if a mere act of will, self-determination could cast off the slumber.
Seasons had to pass. Mountains rise and fall. Stars flare and fade.

For ages form had been a stranger to this consciousness, the blood in darkness mixed as water in water.

Sputtering attempts to awake had aborted as they began, pathetic, dangerous, exhausting. Better to wait. Better yet to be called. Still, the thought like far-off lightning flickered.

Perhaps now is the time to emerge.

Thar She Blows!

 Well, the blow is here. Surprizingly the power has remained on through some 40+ mph sustained winds. I’m thankful. The highest winds should be here sometime after noon, which is a lot more to my tastes than 2:00 am last night, when they were originally forecast.  

 Sent Donna off to work @ 8:00 am and was none too happy about it. So she’ll spend the peak of the storm at the rehab center instead of home.  The life of a healthcare professional, I guess.  At least she’l have generator power if the lights go out.

 The wind is coming out of the North, which is typical for one of these tropical storms.  Tucked into the sand dunes here in Marquis Hills , I like to think we’re sheltered from the strongest winds.

 Is 9:15 too early for a beer? I think not.  

100 Words or Les Nessman: Goes to the Fair!

A breeze, thick with hay and elephant ears, whipped about our jeans. We stepped into the cage and sat hip to hip, holding our breath. The restraining bar came down hard on top of our legs and head over heels we were flung into the night. 

The carney knew he had a couple of screamers and put the hammer down. The carney didn’t know my wife’s congenital birth defect made her unusually susceptible to concussion injuries and encephalitis. In a month she would be unable to walk to the mailbox.

Hoarse and dizzy, we kissed after we rode The Zipper. 

Ophelia Pain

The storms have just about wrapped the eyewall, and it looks like slowly, slowly Ophelia is coming into port at Wilmington. It will probably be a cat 1 at landfall, the sort for which folks 3 miles inland won't even board up the windows. I'm not planning to, anyway.

In all likelihood, Ophelia will be the anti-Katrina: the storm that breeds complacency. Everything will go according to plan, dozens of dime-store King Lears will raise their beers to the heavens crying "Rage! Crack, ye hurricanoes!" and consider themselves masters of their dominions.

All in all, I'm not worried, and it's just as well. I don't really have the wherewithal to weather worser weather.

Ophelia Blogging Begins

Managed to spend most of yesterday not thinking about 9/11. I consider it a small personal victory. Not that I feel 9/11 should be expunged from the National consciousness- far from it- but since most of the 9/11 anniversaries have been more occasions for trepidation than for remembrance, it was nice to have a day without worrying when the other shoe was going to drop. Cheers to W and all the soldiers fighting the good fight.

Today has been pleasant so far, overcast and warm. The low visible clouds have been moving to the west at a steady clip all day. I always enjoy this sort of kinetic wind-up that occurs before a big blow. Ophelia looks so far to be as pale and sad as her namesake. Flooding rains should hit overnight, as the rain bands are training parallel to the coast. The worst wind at the center seems to be dry at the moment. I hope it holds that way until it passes. More later….

It Takes a Brit

Sinister Piffle
Sinister Piffle
Sinister Piffle
Sinister Piffle

I read in The Corner Mr Hitchens used this phrase during one of the Sunday Snoozecasts. I can't get it out of my head. Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Distilled the Cirque du Sheehan to its essence. Long live freedom of speech!

Sinister Piffle

It's All Too Much

The enormity of what's happened with Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans, Mississippi, Alabama, et al., has kept me from jumping into the fray with my two cents. It's easy to be glib in the face of the devastation. It's more comfortable to turn away and seek the escape of denial.
For now, I'm trying to keep a respectful distance, and an eye on the horizon. There but for the Grace of God...

Hot Dogs for Health!

According to the AP c/o The Washington Times, NIH scientists are reseaching Nitrites as the latest cure fer what ails ya. Initial tests prove quite promising in stimulating circulation.
As an added benefit, deceased test subjects will last up to 8 weeks without needing refrigeration. (OK, I made that last bit up.)

Stay tuned for future stories on the protective benefits of sitting too close to the TV and eating Crisco right out the can!