My truck has had battery problems. About twice a year, it has increasing trouble starting, until a week or two later when it just conks out completely. I understand why it happens – I start it up cold, drive thirteen blocks, let it sit all day, then repeat the process to go home. I hardly ever go anywhere after work, and we never take the truck into Lincoln because it’s a more efficient to take the car. So, the battery doesn’t get charged up. (I asked about this problem last time I took it in, and the guys didn’t really seem to care. The battery is under warranty so they just replace it for free.)
Well, earlier this week it was starting to make the warning sounds, so I let it idle fifteen minutes in the driveway. When Lloyd came home I told him about it and he said, “Tomorrow, let it run an hour.”
So I did. I drove Ralph home, left the car running, and said to myself, “Set a timer so you don’t forget.” This was around 5:00. Then Ralph started doing his pitifully hilarious shennanigans.
As I was writing my post last night at 8:30, there was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Durre, our neighbor. He started to speak, but I went pale and said, “The truck!”
God bless him. If he hasn’t stopped by, that thing would have run out of gas. I am so stupid.
Bright side? It started like a dream this morning.
It’s like I lost a bet with a hurricane. Actually, it’s like I lost a bet to middle school students. No, it’s more like I lost a bet with Mr. Krall.
Mr. Krall and Mr. Weiting put together a fundraiser for Hurricane Sandy victims. As the middle schoolers raised more and more money, the teachers would have to do various things. At something like $750.00 I would have to wear Chicago Cubs gear for a day and at $2000.00 all of the (male) teachers would have to grow (or shave into) mustaches. Last I heard they had raised over $6,000.00, and if you include various other donations that Mr. Krall and Mr. Wieting put together, I think they were well over $10,000 in money, gift cards and supplies. The two of them drove a truck full of stuff out to the east coast over Thanksgiving break. The name of their undertaking: Sandystache.
So here’s my facial hair contribution. I’m going to start off with a Chester A. Arthur and soul patch combination that I have named the Biker A. Arthur. Then I’m going down to a straight Chester A. Arthur. After that I’m thinking a Fu Manchu; then whatever that beautiful thing on Nick Offerman’s face is.
For those of you keeping track at home, this will mark my fifth foray in Presidential Facial Hair; having completed a Lincoln (photo not available) a Van Buren, a Benjamin Harrison (which is pretty much my normal bread) and a Harry S. Truman (Who wore a goatee on vacations).
There’s a knoll in Lincoln in a residential neighborhood that doesn’t have anything on it. Lauren and I drive past it a few times a year, and last time we weren’t in any sort of a hurry, so we took some side streets in an attempt to see what was on the other side and why there wasn’t anything on it.
We drove all the way around and didn’t find out anything. Lots of houses had their back yard to the hill, but we couldn’t see any reason for the grassy knoll. We stopped a promising spot and walked up to the top. The trip up just kept getting stranger…
We followed that driveway out to the road, and this residential looking house is on the street. But there are no rooms in the house. Just large machines.
Some of you might know that almost a year ago we started a website for The Sommerer Family. My cousins Sam and Rachel wanted us to help put something together to make organizing family reunions easier as well as just keeping people in communication during the rest of the year.
After nearly a year, I’m going to call it a success. A dozen or so people contribute pictures, video, stories and news to the site, and around 40 family members post comments on the site. Oddly enough, cousin Sam has never commented on the site. I think he’s waiting for just the right time.
Anyway, my dad doesn’t believe in the internet. So I think the only time he’s seen the website is when he comes to visit us or when my mom prints something out and shows it to him. Luckily, the internet was ready for my dad.
- Step 1: Convert your whole website into a pdf with blogbooker. It does an okay job and even makes a table of context.
- Step 2: Convert your pdf file into a book with Lulu. Notice that your book is 357 pages long.
- Step 3: Order book for $21.02 plus $4.99 shipping and handling. Ships in 5-7 days.
Nothing is more fun than watching my dad get worked up because someone remembers something differently than he does, so this should be the perfect Father’s Day gift.
p.s. Mom, don’t print this out for dad to read.
Brad planted a holly plant in our back yard years and years ago. It was nice, but pointy and hurty when you touched it. Some years after that they dug up the pipe from our house to the city sewer line, and the holly was right in the path. We plopped it back down, but it was pretty damaged.
It was completely bare for the first two feet, then leaves started. Brad thought it looked cool, so we left it. Lately it’s just been an ever expanding bush, and needed to be trimmed back or dug up or something. But during this winter the old chiminea fell on it.
I thought that was a good look, so I decided to go with a new “ancient ruins” theme.
If you’ve had anything to do with Holly, you know how painful this was for both me and the plant.
But eventually I got the whole thing wired up just about right. In a few years this will look really cool or really dead. I think I’m okay with either outcome.
Have you noticed that as you get older, your event horizon gets longer? “This ought to look nice in half a decade” is not a thought that Lloyd of the past would have had.