Old Jules/Jack gave me permission to update everyone briefly about his situation. He got out of the hospital yesterday evening and is back at his cabin. I think he’s feeling well, is in excellent spirits, and we both thank you for your caring remarks. However, he doesn’t have an internet connection at this time and hasn’t been able to read emails or respond to comments.
His phone line there isn’t going to be fixed until Monday, so if there are no other internet complications he should be back online soon after that. I imagine it will take a while before he’s caught up, though. And he still has more medical tests that need to be done.
I will go on approving comments as usual, and we appreciate all your positive thoughts.
Hi again readers: Turned out I ain’t as tough as I believed myself to be. I’m in the hospital in Kerrville, TX, sneaked spang in a couple of days ago through the Emergency Room. They know a lot about what’s been going on inside me now, and all of it is interesting and exciting, though it doesn’t necessarily bode well for my continuing to post on the So Far From Heaven blog a lot longer, everything else being equal.
But I’ve refused most of the things they’d propose to do insofar as keeping me this distance from heaven, plan to get discharged hopefully today, go back out to Gale’s and digest my newfound perspectives. Make some exciting decisions about what a guy in my position ought to be doing with himself, thinking about, spending his time and energy on.
Probably should have been doing that all along, but it wasn’t rubbing right up against it consciously and autopilot isn’t the best place to observe important, exciting events.
Happy New Year to those of you who believe this is a new year and are willing to be happy during it.
Posted in 2013, Adventure
Tagged culture, Human Behavior, Life, lifestyle, personal, philosophy, science, senior citizens, society, sociology, technology
When I left Andrews on Christmas Eve morning a cold fog wrapped the RV and a tasteful bow atop kept it all together for the felines and me until I reached Big Spring. That’s where the brakes on the RV failed. Roughly 100 yards before the entryway into the parking lot for a chain store for auto parts.
Great, helpful folks there while I was diagnosing the cause of the problem, feeding brake fluid to the pre-Christmas Universe. Determining the next best guess to be a failed master cylinder. And me with almost no tools along.
Ordered the master cylinder inside the store, arranged with them to park in their lot until it arrived the day following Xmas. They showed me an electrical outlet where I could plug in to keep the heater and lights modern.
Hydrox, Tabby and I watched a store employee carrying boxes past us to the dumpster straining to get them over the side. One plastic box appeared to be a great possibility for a litter box, so I went over to retrieve it. I was astonished to observe the dumpster was home to several boxes with taped label, “Manager Disposal”, the contents scattered among the lowbrow cartons and candy wrappers.
The contents: open end wrenches all sizes, box end wrenches, socket sets, miscellaneous other tools, a couple of which I’d surely need for the master cylinder replacement. So early Christmas morning I climbed down the chimney of the dumpster and began digging out every tool I could bring myself to save from the landfill.
Finished in time to have myself a nice Christmas dinner of something-or-other, cuddle a cat, watch a vintage movie.
Next morning the master cylinder arrived, I installed it with the dumpster-tools, ran the RV around the parking lot a bit to test the brakes, and headed off to points south.
Easily the weirdest Christmas I’ve ever been blessed with.
Posted in 2013, Adventure, America, Redneck Repairs, RedneckRepairs, Transportation, Trucks
Tagged culture, economy, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, personal, psychology, senior citizens, society, sociology, survival, technology
Thanks for coming by for a read.
My life’s blessed at the moment having my bud, Eddie, available to kick around finding fixes for the unfixable. In this instance, all that broken plumbing and wastewater damage blowing the tires did on the RV. That stuff’s made of a material monikered, ABS, which was never intended to be repaired. Plastics, nylon, nothing much easily available attaches to it and the hardware stores don’t carry anything much in the plumbing department made of ABS.
But ABS does attach nicely to other ABS if a person can find some.
Eddie did some web searches to find out what products might be made of ABS to be ravaged for the purposes of converting them to RV wastewater heaven. One turned out to be old computer monitors. So he dug around until he found one.
Yesterday we examined the old monitor to make certain the flat area on the side would be large enough to make a patch to cover the hole broken in the greywater tank on the RV. Then we took a waste piece of RV broken plumbing pipe, scarified it, scarified the potential monitor, and doctored both with purple ABS goo cement.
Voila! Yes. You heard me right. Voila.
That flat surface on the side of that monitor’s going to RV wastewater heaven, holding back the forces of darkness, undergoing reincarnation, likely providing a whole new US cottage industry in the future.
Damned monitors all over the US now have something to aspire to.
Posted in 2013, America, Communication, Country Life, Education, Science, Senior Citizens
Tagged country life, culture, economy, History, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, recycleing, RV plumbing, science, senior citizens, society, sociology, wastewater
Eddie’s made me another generous offer of a solar collector he had lying around, complete with controller.
I have a smaller one back at Gale’s, but I think I’ll be able to just add the wires to those going into the controller.
Missing a couple of days now. Hopefully she’s just on an extended adventure, but she’s got Hydrox and me missing her a lot. Last time I saw her, night-before-last I was noticing she was losing a lot of weight, skin and bones under all that fur. But she rested on my chest purring and demanding affection an hour-or-so during the night, ate heartily, drank a lot of water.
Not a bad final approach to the active runway out of here. Jack
The Cat in the Wood – Archibald MacLeish
The cat in the wood cried farewell cried farewell
Farther and farther away and the leaves
Covered her over with the sound of the leaves
And the sound of the wood O my love O my love
Farther and farther away and the sound
Of leaves overhead when I call to you
Leaves on the ground.
Socorro, NM, 1996 – 1997 On loan from Mel to provide company for Hydrox, her litter-mate. Beginning the long road home.
Posted in 2013, Animals, Poetry
Tagged animals, Archibald MacLeish, cats, country life, Human Behavior, Life, lifestyle, pets, poetry, senior citizens, society, sociology
Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read.
I don’t know a lot more about my health this afternoon than I knew when I awakened this morning, but I know a good deal more about other interesting matters than I once did. Went through the television interview with some people somewhere else asking about various health issues. This evidently resulted in checkmarks going to a file telling them what testing to do afterward in the lab.
Judging from the tests the interviewers weren’t discounting a hyperfunctioning thyroid, though they were closed-mouth about any opinions they formed during the interview. They did hint at the possibility I might want to take it easy and not do anything particular until I’ve seen the doctor on the 20th of December.
But hanging around that waiting area was worth the price of admission. Discovered what a huge percentage of the circa 1965-1975 US Army, AF, Navy and Marine Corps who end up getting health treatment from the VA have discovered they were point-men infantrymen, snipers, and other non-company clerk in Danang, personnel or supply clerk, cooks, or motorpool monkeys in Siagon [folks comprising 90+ percent of the Vietnam jobs of the time].
Which is to say, when you’re an old bastard and find your life hasn’t been sufficiently interesting, you can sit in the waiting room at the VA and blow smoke up the asses of a lot of other old guys. And if you do, some others will crawl out of the wood work to provide an atmosphere of reciprocity and mutual ex post facto revisions of history. I’ve got a feeling the non-vet practice promiscuously using phrases such as, ‘fought for our freedoms,’ or ‘fought in Vietnam’ brings the incentive. If you were in Vietnam and never heard a shot fired in anger along with almost everyone else in Vietnam, how do you reconcile it with someone accusing you of ‘fighting for our freedoms?’ Or, ‘fought in Vietnam’?
Lordee what a needy bunch of sons of bitches we Americans are in our dotage.
Posted in 1960's, 1970's, 2013, Adventure, America, Government, Human Behavior
Tagged Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, musings, politics, psychology, Relationships, senior citizens, society