The Useful Duck!

Contribute to my Vacation, please...

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Movies on the Great White Barn

There is an 85% chance we will be watching movies on the neighbor's barn Saturday night. I would say it was in honor of my brothers 35th birthday but he is not turning 35 and I forgot it was his birthday tomorrow.
If you would like to attend you can just show up around dark and you don't have to bring my brother a present. You could bring him pie. I am sure he likes pie. I know I like pie. You probably should bring a chair.
Most likely it will be Woody Woodpecker shorts.
Although I do need to move a tractor and drill first.

What I do with my life... Hint, it involves balers and straw and stackers and old stuff...

I am baling wheat straw.
Neighbor gave me 60 acres. The first two fields were good the second field was terrible. Very weedy. He swathed it for me but the swather guy went the same direction as the combine and really fast. So, half the stubble was bent over instead of cut and he didn't get any of the wheel tracks.
I got my 1500 bales of 100lb 3-tie straw and now am working on my 7,000 bales of 60lb two tie. We did 1,800 in the last two days.
I got the baler Tuesday after the fellow who wants the straw called and confirmed. I am selling it by the bale so the weight doesn't matter. (As long as it is 60lbs) What matters is getting enough bales in a stack and on the truck.
I had given up on the little Hesston 14x18 baler and was attempting to either get our Freeman 200 going or rent a baler from the local Case-IH dealer. I decided the 14x18 was not going to work and had moved on to the 16x18.
Then I remembered by brother-in-law has a brand spanking new Case-IH baler and I was sure it was 16x18.
Went to look at it and it is a heavy duty two-tie baler. Split knotters, extended chamber, extra bracing on the chamber, hydraulic tension, and the paint was not even worn off the inside of the chamber.
So we towed it to the field and put it on the White 2-135. The straw was so heavy I couldn't use the 70hp John Deere I had rented as it's lowest speed was 1.5 mph. The 2-135 will do 1 mph with the 540 pto shaft in.
I'm not sure if it is the 130 hp or the baler but it really puts out the bales for it's size. I am a little worried we will hit a heavy clump and the baler will just start spinning over and over from the torque.
I started picking up the bales and they were 14 x18" bales. (14 x18 x46" actually) So now I am back to trying to find how to get the most in a stack that will fit on a truck.
I have to get the bottom layer on edge so you can pick the stack up with a squeeze. So that makes it 18" + (14 X 7) = 116"   The stack should be 16" times 7 = 112"
I could go 7 high with three layers on edge, 18, 18, 14, 18, 18, 14, 14 = 114"
The bottom must go on edge 18" and two tie layers must be flat (14") and the stack has to fit on a truck and so can't be much higher than 112".
The guy hauling my straw thinks he is over heigth at the ideal stack of 8 high which is 116"
Going with non tie layers on edge and the top flat is the next best but will it stand up?

In other news here is the beached whale...

 And this is what I found in a shed where I am baling. Anyone seen one of those before?

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

There once was a time when towns like Amity and McMinnville had a real main street and people shopped "downtown"

Forget the "dragging the gut" festival part of this article. As the only middle aged dude in America without the muscle car that he never had as a kid, I am somewhat nonplussed about the whole event. I suppose I could take the daughter and ride the Triumph. Somehow it seems like it is just another thing that the tight arsed adults stole from the kids and now want to relive at retirement age.
However, click on the link and look a the photograph.
Once McMinnville had a real downtown. I remember shopping for Christmas presents when you could walk from one "real" store to another.
JC Penney's, Rutherford's, The Dime Store, I remember a briefly lived toy store which had a whole wall devoted to Marx Johnny West dolls, Taylor Hardware, Coast to Coast, A Shoe store, Sewing Store, Oregon Stationary, Thrifty Drugs, you get the idea.
Then came Payless Drug store and the shopping mall on the outskirts of town. Things got tough downtown as people tried out the new big stores on the outskirts of town. And then, just about the time I remember my Mother and Grandmother decided to go back to the downtown as the new stores were not that much better, there came the downtown beautification project. The first "bulbouts" and pedestrian friendly screwed up curbs at the crosswalks and the downtown died.
The infamous "dragging the gut," tradition of kids cruising on Friday and Saturday nights only caused problems when there were real businesses downtown that suffered from traffic congestion. I suppose i the reason it came to a head in the mid 1980's is because the last long time business were finally failing. That and the mid 1980's is when the 1960's generation started running things and they are the least self aware and closed minded of any generation. It is pretty funny that the generation that gave us free love and "peace protests" is also the generation that stopped freedom of assembly in downtown McMinnville....
But, I could digress on that subject and get off into the TSA and NSA and conspiracy theories and the end of the world and go on all day...
Back to Third Street.
"Dragging the Gut," which sounds pretty funny when the dorky people that never did it back in the day, now promote it, is a good idea now because.
There are no "bread and butter" businesses in downtown McMinnville. Third Street is full of knick-knack wine country shops, coffee shops, a McMinnimums (or however you spell it) there is still a bookstore, Ice Cream shop.
Most of businesses are desperate for the disposable income of middle aged people and so welcome all the middle aged folks who have finally restored the car of their dreams and want to drive at a crawl, not because they want to whistle at pretty young girls, but because they are afraid to scratch the 15 coats of hand rubbed lacquer...
And there are no kids with loud music taking risks and showing off and getting into trouble.
Perhaps we can bring it all to Amity.
Only with wine, and bicycles, and the occasional drunk guy on the BMX because he lost his license and is spending his days picking up pop cans between Amity and Ballston.
And now I shall return to baling straw and being a grump.
So the link didn't work and now I can't find what I linked to.
Here is a link that has the photo I wanted.
Here is a story in the Wine Country Newspaper

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Tractor Art and Chicken Feed and straw.

My chicken feed customers are clamoring for more feed. I have not advertised in a year. I must be way too cheap on my feed prices.
I've just finished baling grass straw and have sold it all. The buyer from the major straw/hay export company spent the afternoon driving from field to field with me. It is kind of funny. I suspect that usually when he is driving from field to field the fields are larger than 20 acres and there is more than one stack in each field.
I got less than I hoped for the good stuff and more than I expected for the less than good stuff and it will all be gone soon and I will not have to load out of the barn in the winter time.
I just wish I could keep a bit more of the money...
$20-40 to the farmer, $35-40 for baling/raking, $7-10 for stacking, $1 to me. However at one time I could get three burritos for $1 at the Grand Island store.
The scrapper neighbors went by yesterday with a 49' Buick.
I flagged them down.
I told them that the Buick's final resting place should be under a tree in our pasture and not on a scrap boat to China. They offered to trade for a dead Ranger pickup of which we have four (4). I came pretty close but I had to go rescue my helper who was nearly lost in a giant fillbert orchard while looking for a tiny wheat straw field.
However, my aging neighbor drove by twice looking closely at the Buick and he stopped as soon as the scrapper drove off. Was that an overhead valve straight eight?
"Yes it was," said I.
I have him the scrapper's business card.
Pretty soon the Buick came back and disappeared into one of the huge hay sheds across the road.
The scrapper offered to take a Ranger anyway.
But we are going to fix them all up and drive them some day...
I leave you with tractor art. Just stop for a moment and admire the composition of this photo. Note the avant garde refusal to follow the 1/3-2/3 rule and my excellent cropping of the photo. As they say, "it's all in the frame..." I really have not clue who said that but I'll put quotes around it anyhow.
The old IH on the feed mill. Nothing like a little black diesel smoke against a clear blue sky...

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Yamhill County Landfill Park surprise! Ken Huffer sits on DEQ information! Well, yes there have been problems in the past...

While the News Register and Parks Department officials explain opposition to Ken Huffer's legacy plan to build a park next to the unlined and sometimes leaking Riverbend landfill in Yamhill County as a "Not in My Backyard," sort of selfish complaint, it turns out that local residents may have a point.
Living next to the old dump and hearing many stories of contaminated wells, lawsuits with gag orders, and the occasional spring of nasty goop leaking into the river, it comes as no surprise that the DEQ may have additional information that might bear on the decision.
Yamhill County did purchase land to insure a "buffer zone" around the old dump but as part of that agreement the people involved were not allowed to talk about it, or so we have always heard.
What is a surprise is that Ken Huffer, head of the parks department and primary proponent of the dump, wrote to DEQ for info and chose not to include the info in his report to the planning commission or the County Commissioners.
Whether or not this info really has bearing on the case is probably less important than the fact that illustrates how government works. A petty official comes up with a plan that will build his/her resume' as a step up to the next job. He/she does what it takes to get it through, after all he/she is not going to touch the green stuff that is oozing out of the river bank, and he is certainly not going to attempt to take a semi-truck through Amity...
Here is the link.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Sharon for mayor of Amity

This comment from yesterday,

"I for one miss Ashes was nice to let
Sharon do the cooking and clean up....Now she
has closed, thank you City Fathers, she has
put her hat in the ring for Mayor. I know
times are tough but if you have a spare $20
I am sure her campaign could use the funds.
I like you live out of town this would be a
way to be involved. "

Sharon for mayor of Amity?

Now that is a cause to which I would contribute!
More details please!!!

I personally favor the twins, Levi and Leroy.
One of them gave me a lecture a couple years ago about Amity City politics and I was amazed at his depth of understanding.  Kind of ironic that they would face discrimination because they are obviously mentally handicapped, buy yet because they are interested and focused on city government and are obsessed with lawn mowers instead of real estate values and sipping win,e they appear to have a better understanding of the city that those who actually make the decisions.
But I digress...
How do you donate?
How is she campaigning?
What is her plan?
Will there be any free pie?
Those are all important questions...

I wonder if the Blue Goat will host a fundraiser?

However, the horse is already out of the barn on Amity's determined plan to screw up the downtown. What are you going to do? Jackhammer two "blub-outs" and take three feet off of the curbs?
Can you even stop phase II where they ruin Amity-Hopewell Road?

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

I ruin two steaks

I am a terrible cook.
My wife staying with her father. Not because of my cooking but because he broke a rib.
All day yesterday I was thinking about the two steaks in the refrigerator.
I had slathered them in Worcestershire sauce, garlic and salt and I could image the salty goodness after I had properly charred them on the BBQ.
Yesterday was a properly frustrating day.
I now have only 8 semi-truck loads of 2-tie wheat straw and 4 loads of 3 tie on 120 acres of wheat stubble and 80 acres of prennial ryegrass and everyone else is finished.
Plus, 80 acres of oat straw to stack for a neighbor, plus another 120 acres of straw from wheat purposely mixed with oats, plus, it is going to rain next Monday.
However, the straw was too wet to bale.
How could this happen when we have had temps past the 100 degree mark? I really don't know. I am pretty sure the moisture tester in the baler is accurate. I did get out and stab the bales with the hand held moisture tester.
I baled the 350 bales of really crappy looking fescue straw at 16-18 percent but I doubt it would have been export quality anyway. (I can explain all that if you wish but I really need to be at work)
So, I quit early and came home to BBQ a steak.
I found a box of corn on the steps that someone had left for us. This is the first local corn I have had.
I cleaned the silks out of a couple ears and soaked them in water while I waited for the gas grill to heat up.
I could see there was a problem with the steaks but we will get to that later.
I put the corn on first on high heat and singed the ears good and proper. Then I put the corn on the upper grate and the steaks on the center grate. Our gas grill gets a little too hot.
The steaks were very thick so I cut some slices into them to make them cook faster.
What is supposed to happen is the garlic and salt tenderizes and flavors the meat but it also burns off when the meat is cooked. That is why you use coarse salt.
I did not have coarse salt.
I resisted the urge to cook the steaks on high as their were sirloins. It tends to make them tough.
I actually took 30 minutes to cook them on lower heat. I did carve the nicely burnt edges away and eat them like candy. I'm a bit strange that way.
The dog got a woodie watching me cook so I gave him some fat. It made him very happy.
The steaks were good. They turned out very tender.
The salt did not fall off.
I like salt. My wife does not.
Perhaps if I scrape the left overs. If I am home I will eat them for lunch. I should have had them for breakfast.
I wonder if you can be arrested for ruining top quality cuts of meat with your gas grill? If so I am a serial offender...
The corn was good. The moisture from soaking the ears stays in the husk so it kind of boils it.
Have a nice day...
Pray the rain holds off for another week...

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

For your musical pleasure

Think how much better this would sound were it played off of a record with a new JICO stylus on your vintage Shure V-15 type II cartridge.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Jico Electronics sent me a T-Shirt and I should buy a new stylus from them

I can't quite figure it all out.
JICO is reported to have the highest quality replacement styli for phonographic cartridges. They are a bit more expensive at times due to the decline of the dollar, but if you figure the stylus I am replacing lasted 30 years then paying what is essentially $2 a year to listen to the Legendary Stardust cowboy in hi-fi is the deal of the century.
I have yet to find a lovely lass to model the shirt. Perhaps I'll just wear it myself. A farmer who is out-standing in his field...
You do need to check out their blog. I find it amazing to see an English language campaign for a Japanese company to promote a blog on their products and company that is written in Spanish.
And now I go to work...
As Willie Nelson said, "and tomorrow starts the same old thing again..."

Friday, August 17, 2012

Links and Rants on a Friday

Here is a clever approach by Utah to trick you into giving up valuable personal information. Why they can't I cannot guess but if you live in Utah, lie! Perhaps it is all a clever ruse to find all the chronic patches.

Here is a link to a fellow who wants to shoot at Seal Rock. I know people who live there but no one answers their phone so I can't give you any inside information. Perhaps they were all killed by errant bullets.
However you can rest assured that if real estate developers and the government are on the same side in an issue the other side is probably the correct side to be on.

The City of Amity is run by idiots.
Here is a link to a PDF of their application to "improve the downtown."
They purposely restricted downtown parking with "bulb outs" and  made these huge wheel chair ramps at all the intersections. There will also be bike lanes on both sides of the road.
The application stresses that the roads are too narrow.
Bike lanes and "bulb-outs" (there is a name to those abominations) effectively limit 99W through Amity to to 2 smart cars and a bicycle.
All they really had to do...
1. Fix the damn sidewalks so you didn't trip.
2. Put moderate wheelchair ramps that don't force wide loads down the middle of the highway.
3. Paint a @#$%^ing white line on the side of the road for the $%^&*( bicyclists
4. Fire the City Manager
5. Fix the shoulders of the main roads through town so you can pull over with out dropping an axle in a pothole.
6. Fix the intersection by the old US Bank building so you can turn on to 18 without hitting the telephone pole or hitting oncoming traffic because you can't see due to the one car parked right at the intersection in front of the bank building.

But no, hundreds of thousands of dollars later we've got park benches and trees. Something I for one, have always thought would look nice in downtown Amity with its crumbling brick buildings.
At least they did eliminate the parking in front of the old bank. AND five other spaces.
I'm sure this will bring the winetasters in droves. And of course the city will certainly benefit from more bicyclists. They absolutely contribute the local economy. Witness the five bicycle shops in town and the bike racks outside the Blue Goat. (one of the few business that survived the renovation)

And now I think I will go to work...

Sunday, August 12, 2012

I attempt to bale alfalfa and contemplate another trip to cooler climes

It is going to be hot today. Yesterday we baled annual ryegrass straw and I attempted to bale alfalfa. I say attempted because even though it has been on the ground for almost a week and has been fluffed up every day, it is still not dry.
I double raked it yesterday morning as I was a little worried that you could still strip back the stems on quite a bit of it and I was worried I would miss my baling window between all the leaves shattering off and 24 percent moisture content Saturday evening and I was not going to skip church to bale 10 acres of alfalfa at 11 a.m. Sunday morning.
I was correct.
I went to check on the field right at dark and it was already too wet. I should have figured out the humidity was high due to the volume of water pouring out of the air conditioner on the stacker but yesterday was warm with a wind out of the North East and that means dry air is pouring back into the valley from east of the mountains and it will be hot and dry.
If I would have gone at 8 p.m. I probably could have baled.
I put the hay into big fluffy windrows and I'm hoping it will not bleach out too much. We have been having heavy dew every night.
I am supposed to make another trip to the coast. My wife's family has rented a cabin and I am supposed to go out there after church today.
I am so tired that the idea of driving by myself for a hour there and an hour back does not really sound that appealing, but then again 92 degrees with no breeze and high humidity here is not that appealing either. I actually would rather just be running the stacker. It has good a/c.
I was going to stay home and go to the river with the nephews but watching my helper and his friends drink themselves into a funk is not sounding that great. If my daughter was home I would fix our big inner tube and float down the river.
At least it will be cool at the beach. At 4 p.m. the fog rolls in like a river. I like that...
Perhaps I will bale the alfalfa Monday morning. The center of the windrows should still be nice and green. (I hope)
All this vacation time may make me a Lazy Farmer...

Saturday, August 11, 2012

How I knew I was at my kind of park and how I know the farm economy has recovered

In this day and age of safety railings and uptight parents and petty government officials it is somewhat refreshing to see a sign like this. And it is wonderful to be turned loose at a park where there are rusty door, dark vaults, dangerous drop-offs, gun emplacements, and that wonderful state of disrepair that was the hallmark of so many happy visits to the Oregon Coast-back when I was a kid.

I know you are all waiting to hear my economic wisdom and here it is. I know times are good when farmers start screwing each other over rent and straw stumpage fees.
The midwestern trend of whorish landlords and farmers who read "The art of the Deal," and are out to get every scrap of land they can beg, steal, outbid, or borrow hit our part of Oregon a few years ago.
There are some eager young farmers who are handy with the calculator and who pour over soil maps and public records and pay amazing prices for farmland.
It just happened to a friend of mine. He rented from an absentee landlord in Idaho who is supposed to be a retired farmer and who has invested in farmland.
He just got a registered letter stating this was his last year and he needed to pay his rent early. The landlord will provide no other information.
The word is another farmer is paying something like $400 an acre for this farm. It is good soil and irrigated and my friend has been maintaining organic matter and pH.
His landlord didn't have the decency to tell him he had been offered an outrageous rent, or give him the option to counter offer. He just cut him off.
If he would have talked to his renter he could have found out that this same farmer that offered him $400 is paying at least $450 an acre to the farmer who got the bale hookers to drive down from Portland. 
Another farmer friend told me he had to up his rent payment as my "high school buddy with the solar farm," (long story) had sent out dear landlord letters in the same vein as the previous mentioned farmer and had offered more rent. The landlord was somewhat peeved that this farmer had not just walked across the road and talked to him in person about renting his ground but was enough of a whore to go ahead and ask the current tenet for more rent.
I had to laugh at that one.

Note on Sunday, Aug 12th, 2012. 
I deleted stuff from the original post. It doesn't matter anymore. It was a decade ago... What is the point of pretending to be a Christian if you are bitter about crap that happened years ago. You do what you do for the sake of doing it and doing a good job and being what ever sort of person you want to be. What do I have left as a Christian? I don't work on Sunday? If I'm going to throw it all away it is going to be for hookers and beer and not because I'm mad at someone from saving me from working too hard.
And I'm not going to start working on Sunday cause I'm lazy. So if I have to get rid of a vice, I choose resentment...
I think I will keep the bitterness for now. It entertains people... continue reading below....

Old School screwing, "After all, God told me I was the best farmer in the world and it is only right you should give me your ground as you are not that good a farmer."
New School Screwing, "I've been given a better offer, you need to be gone by October 1st."
When we lose our rented ground I think I shall become an anti-farmer lobbyist. If you can afford $450 and higher an acre rent then farm subsidies and special law exemptions for farmers should not apply. Neither should you get a tax subsidy on your ground as a landlord.
Bitter? I'm not bitter!
"I have no friends but my dog..."
Speaking of... I have more wisdom from the same source as that quote. "Budd, You know how your neighbors who are better farmers sometimes take time out from being condescending and outbidding you on land rents and lend you a truck or a bigger tractor or tell you what a wonderful person you are? Well, they just like to throw you a bone now and then so they don't feel so guilty about screwing you for the past 30 years... " Ouch! He did not need to tell me that!
I prefer not to look at it that way myself but...sometimes....
Oh well, have a nice day!

Friday, August 10, 2012

We visited Fort Stevens on the Oregon Coast and I bite off more than I can chew, so to speak

Here are photos from a couple weeks ago. I just got around to down loading them from my camera.
The family and I went to Astoria (up at the extreme northwest end of Oregon) and we stopped at Fort Stevens.
Fort Stevens is one of the few places in the USA that took incoming fire during WWII. It is a historic fort guarding the mouth of the Columbia river.

What is really cool about the fort is that all the gun emplacements are still there and are in a wonderful state of disrepair with crumbling concrete and broken locks on the doors. So you literally can hide in the "powder room," and it is a real powder room. There are no lights in the underground bunkers and there are horrible creaky doors and rusty hinges and stairs that go nowhere.
There is only one gun for display purposes but very few safety railings. The gun has a range finder and elevation wheels to turn. (They don't do anything)

In short, it is a paradise for kids!
There is a museum with uniforms and a working model of the giant guns. The guns would pop up to shoot and then the recoil would push them back down.
They were shelled by a Japanese submarine in WWII but the sub was too far away to hit with the guns so the big guns at the fort never fired back!
The daughter and I spent several hours running around in the ruins.
Here she is a the command post.

We were on our way out, (my wife puts up with a lot) when we found one more set of bunkers with no locks on the doors. We made a mad dash through the dark with only my cell phone for light. This did not eliminate my daughters fear of the dark. That night she could not got to sleep. I should not have done that maniacal laugh and slammed the steel doors. Now that was creepy.
In once section of the crumbling ruin I spied an old book. I pulled it out of the crack in the wall where it had been hidden. It was, "The History of Tom Jones," by Henry Fielding (1707-1754) probably from the Harvard Shelf of Fiction put out in 1917.
How did it get there? Why was it left there? What relevance to the crumbling ruin of Fort Stevens does a satirical tale from centuries past bring us?
Curious minds want to know...
In other news I have repaired the baler and I have sold 10 semi loads of wheat straw. Ironically those loads of wheat straw are not to be made with the 3 tie baler I just repaired. Rather, they are to be baled with a small two-string baler of which I do not have... Well, actually we have two of them but I really don't think they are capable of baling 8,000 bales after setting in the pasture for the past decade.
The specifications are, 14" x 18" x 46" long and from 55-60lbs or 16" x 18" x 46" and 65-80lbs per bale of clean and bright wheat straw. There is a fellow who I have done a lot of work for and never charged as he is just starting out in baling. Favors will be called in...
This all seemed a good idea when  I was talking to the buyer over the phone last night. However, in the cold hard light of dawn 8 a.m. I am starting to question my sanity.
8000 bales? No real baler? Hmmmm....

Thursday, August 9, 2012

What the inside of a baler looks like and my neighbor orders hookers from Portland and they get lost

I have been working. Sort of living in the stacker. Well, grinding feed in the morning and picking up straw somewhere in the foothill valleys of the coast range in the afternoon through evenings. Forty blocks of 56 bales per block per day on the average. The last day I achieved a 6 minute load average! Whoop! Whoop!
And I saw Muddy Valley drive by on highway 18 on his way home from the beach.
I took my daughter to Antique Powerland. Where we ate ice cream made by a steam powered ice cream maker and saw a tank. And we saw Orin.

I started to do a simple bearing repair on the baler and ended up with the plunger out (twice) and a week long project.

Here is what it looks like inside...
I ran into some farmers who were discussing events in the neighborhood. (Gossiping)
One of the neighbors was awakened the other evening by car lights shining shining in her bedroom window. She is not a shrinking violet sort of farmer lady. (She kind of reminds me of the farmer lady on Curious George.)
So she goes out to investigate. The car speeds off but she can see a girl inside talking on a cell phone. It pulls into the next driveway so the farmer lady gets in her pickup and goes to investigate. Once again, when she gets close the car speeds off.
It pulls into the next driveway, then speeds off.
So the lady decides to follow as it is pretty strange behavior.
Finally it drives down the long lane to the next farm and stops. The girl is still on the phone.
The farmer lady pulls up behind, raps on the window with her flashlight and demands to know what the "heck" is going on at this time of night.
Inside are two relatively "young" girls of Asian descent, dressed somewhat impractical for a farm visit. The were quite cheerful. They exclaimed they were from Portland and were here to find Mr. ---- ------.
Perhaps it was just a massage...
Much humor has been made from this event.
If only she would have got a business card...
I mean not for me, for my other neighbor. Perhaps they would do a massage at Muddy Valley? Or Junction City?

Thursday, August 2, 2012

I go on vacation in the middle of summer and we find a phonebooth

My wife and daughter talked me into going to the beach with them. I took a Monday off!
It was nice but now I am behind.
We went to Astoria and then back down 101 to Lincoln City and then came home.
We went to Fort Stevens and made scary noises in the old sea artillery bunkers.
We found a phone booth.
You don't see those much anymore. No change in the coin return.

Then we went to the beach in search of anonymity and so I suggested dark glasses. However my daughter clarified her true intent was to find an "anemone." We found several in tide pools. If you poke them with your finger they try to eat you. At first I told the daughter not to mess with them as we didn't want to damage them. But everyone else on the beach was abusing them so I said what is the point and we gently prodded them so they would try to eat your finger. I wore my dark glasses just in case.
Now I am so far behind I think I will never catch up.
Yesterday I made feed for a guy but forgot to put it in the barrels so he could pick it up.
I'm going to make some more if I every make it out of the house.
Just one more cup of coffee...

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