There.  Remove the curse.  Please.  Over the last two months here is what has happened… I’ve probably missed a couple…

microwave quit working – only worked on high.  Repair method – slapped it like we used to with TV’s and radios when they hummed or picture went goofy… sometimes the turntable rattles a bit now, but if you whack it again it stops.  Sometimes you just have to swear at it.

TV startup – apparently my Samsung  HiDef TV has faulty capacitors.  Repair method – replace capacitors (about 20 bucks) but try and find them – they are ordered, but I haven’t turned off the TV for a month, cause it probably won’t start again (additional electricity bill $????)

Toilet – don’t flush properly (if at all) Repair method – (none of which have worked) – plunger, sewer snake, remove and reinstall toilet, lots of swearing…

Truck oil leak – oil puddles under the truck .  Repair method – open hood and come to the obvious conclusion I have no idea where to even start looking.  Take to shop and pay the nice people $550.00 to replace a broken oil cooler pipe.

Dish Washer leak – it’s a portable, and eventually will be replaced by a built in, but in the meantime, I don’t want to do them by hand.  Anyway, it leaks where you hook it up to the faucet.  Repair method – it’s a simple washer that needs replacing.  They quit making the repair kits two years ago.  You have to buy the whole assembly for $85.00 now.  Still unresolved, but if I hook it up and unhook it about 20 times (and of course, accompanied by swearing) it will eventually stop leaking…

Computer mouse – it just started working if and when it wanted to.  I think the laser was burning out. Repair method – new mouse.  About 40 dollars ’cause I bought one with extra buttons that I have no idea do.  But it is ergonomically designed.

Computer sound card- been stupid for a long time, but I think it’s still associated with the curse somehow. It has always buzzed and had static, and was always turned almost off so I couldn’t hear the noise.  Repair method – new sound card (cheap one – $65.00) I also bought new cables for the second hard drive, because it would vanish every once in a while.  On the drive where I keep all of my music, so now that I have a sound card, I might as well have music working

Oh yeah, let me reiterate that I think my brother is a really great guy, and very wise, and really good looking (for someone his age… )

I suppose I’m tempting fate with that last little bit…

A little while ago, I might have, maybe, perhaps, possibly, accidentally made fun of my brother’s new microwave and his absolute amazement that the new appliance had a popcorn button.  And a turntable.  And a coffee button.

Okay, I’m still making fun of him, but there’s  a couple of other old sayings that come to mind right now -  “You’ll get what’s coming to you,” “God will get you for that” and the ever popular “Now, what the f— ?!!!” 

Yesterday, I put some pizza in the microwave, hit the reheat button (my brother has one of those now, too) and waited my four minutes  and ten seconds for hot food.  I pulled the plate out carefully, because sometimes they can get hot and set it on the counter.  Then, as is my usual habit, and for the life of me, I don’t know why, I stuck my finger in the re-heated food to see how hot it is.  Don’t laugh, I’ve seen other people do that.  In fact I think it was in the instructions that came with microwaves (like the one my brother just replaced) back in the day.  But I digress…

Anyways, the food was still cold.  Or almost cold. If I had sat on the pizza for four minutes and ten seconds, it would be warmer than this frigid plate before me right now.

So my microwave is now just a noisy, poor imitaion of a rotating “Dessert Dispaly” (remember they had those in restaurants years ago – I could watch the banana cream pie for hours, but again I digress)

So the moral of the story is: “Cold pizza really ain’t that bad”

I guess a new microwave is on my shopping list

It all started innocently  enough.

me:  “What’s new?”

brother: “We’re finally going to replace the flooring in our house.  Should start next week.”

me: “Great!  How long is that gonna take?”

brother: “Not too long.  They are coming in and doing it one room at a time (a good plan I thought, but didn’t say anything) and they move the furniture and everything. (moving the furniture first is even a better plan!)”

me: “Cool – and you’re getting the whole main floor done, right?”

brother: “Yeah – and we got new appliances too”

me: “wow – you’re going all out.  All hi-tech stuff I presume”

brother: “Not really – except the microwave.”

(here’s where it happened…)

brother: “Yeah – it’s got push buttons and dials and controls and stuff”

me: “mm hmm” (trying to sound impressed)

brother: “It has a button just for popcorn. You just push it, and the microwave knows it’s popcorn and cooks it.  And it’s supposed to taste better than the old way, and doesn’t burn”

me: “Really – wow, that’s some microwave!”

brother: “And the beeper works all the time.  Our old one didn’t work when it was cold.  It just made a huunn huuun sound, and it wasn’t even doing that all the time.”

me: “And does it have a button for re-heating coffee?”

brother: “yeah, yeah – I think so.  And it’s got a turn table thing so that food cooks evenly. The food goes round and round like a merry-go-round!”

me: “So your old one didn’t have that stuff.  It must have been really old. I pretty much thought all of that was standard.  In fact, I had to replace my old microwave a couple of weeks ago and it had all of that.  Even the popcorn button.”

brother: (slightly annoyed) “We’ve had it for a while…”

me: “So, your old one, did it have an electric start or did you have to kick start it?”

brother: CLICK

I never did get to ask him if his new “ice box” actually plugs into the wall, and makes ice,  rather than the need to haul ice to store in the bottom compartment to keep things cool.

To be more precise, do something destructive. I need a bathroom upstairs, because it’s a long and dangerous walk in the middle of the night to the main floor for a pee. The obvious place (and the only place) is in the closet / hallway.

The fact that there is a couple of walls to remove can be remedied with a sledge hammer, a pry bar,a little ambition and lots and lots of dust.

Now, my original idea was that I would remove the walls, and (remember, there’s no real blueprint here) build a wall about 3 feet from the stairs and install a bathroom on the other side of the wall. I suspect it’s easier to say than it is to do. But, I do need a tentative plan. After all, you can’t just knock down a wall for no reason at all.

Well, you can. It IS sort of fun. Moving on…

As soon as the wall started to come down, I realized that there was a lot more light upstairs, (from the window at the end of the hallway) and I liked the look of the open space at the top of the stairs. In fact, I had suspected that would happen before I broke out the first chunk of plaster.

Reality check.

I need a bathroom upstairs.

The new effect is good too, though…

The dog was no help. He had no opinion except that there was a mess on the stairs that someone needed to clean up.

The more lathe and plaster I removed, the more I questioned my need for a bathroom upstairs.

Finally, the walls were gone. I REALLY like the open feeling.

Reality check #2.

You need a bathroom.

Okay, I need a bathroom. However, upon consideration, that business about privacy is kind of over-rated isn’t it?

To confirm my suspicion, I called my brother. Being clear headed, logical, and the most down to earth, practical guy I know, I knew his view would be valuable, and the only opinion I could trust and respect.

Naturally, he agreed. To a point. He suggested that a room containing a toilet should have a degree of privacy. An easy solution would be a couple of plants on each side of the toilet.

Reality check #3

I need a bathroom upstairs.

It’s probably going to be a whole lot smaller than the original plan, though.

My new little buddy (more than likely it’s buddies) have not been enticed in the slightest by the sweet aroma of stale peanut butter on a spring loaded dinner plate.

According to reliable sources (as reliable as the internet is) I may have a shy mouse. My brother, on the other hand, suggested that I may have a rejected and depressed mouse. Either way, it appears the mouse has severe emotional problems, and in my opinion should be put out of his misery.

The shy mouse syndrome

According to this train of thought, I need to allow the mouse to become familiar with the mouse trap. The suggestion is, to leave the trap un-set, with no bait for a week in the one of the mouse’s favourite haunts. After a week, I should put a little bait on the trap, but still leave it un-set, so that the mouse can become familiar with the trap. Then, a few days later, I go in for the kill.

The fact is, I want the little bastard(s) dead now. Not tomorrow. Definitely not after the mouse has worked his way through the twelve step program for shyness. “Hello – my name is Mickey, and I’m a shy mouse”

Sheesh! (remember Pixie and Dixie and Mr Jinx the cat? Mr Jinx sheeshed a lot)

The rejection mouse theory

Now, this is my brother’s theory, so take that into consideration (read more about his mouse ideology). He suggests I make little tiny peanut butter sandwiches, and invite the mouse for dinner. Over a glass of wine at the end of our meal, I should tell the little rodent that “it’s over” and he has to move on. I suppose I could go with the “It’s not you, it’s me” thing, but I doubt that even a mouse would fall for that old line.

I can see it now. The mouse will walk away, sobbing uncontrollably. He’ll look back at me and say something stupid like “Can I call you sometime?”

ARRGGGH!!!!

I will not deal with a mouse that needs therapy in a gentle and understanding way. I believe a mouse should face his demons head on (or more to the point head in – the trap that is) The world has gone crazy, and we need to return to the simple basics once again. Mice and people do not mix. End of story

I had never used it, but it was supposed to let me take a photo from as far as 25 feet away. So, when someone said they wanted a family photo while we were in Edmonton, I thought it was the chance to try it out.

After I figured out how to make it work (you have to change some of the set-up on the camera to enable it) I set the camera on a tripod and lined everybody up and pointed the marvelous gadget at the camera and pushed the clicker button.

Nothing happened.

So I waved it around (cause that’s what you do with a remote control when it doesn’t work) and tilted it up and pointed it down and aimed to the right and then the left and pushed harder on the button and pushed again and still nothing happened. I moved a little closer and pushed the button and still nothing. About 5 feet from the camera I got a beeping sound, and a red light started flashing, but by the time I got back to where I should be, it was too late.

In the end, one of Ashley’s friends acted as the remote control. Not quite so high tech, but it worked better.

And you can wipe that smug little grin off your face anytime now, brother of mine!

And that reminds me

Things my brother taught me

1. Do not pour gasoline from a jerry can onto little plastic soldiers you have set on fire
   • it will explode
   • you will throw the jerry can and set the garage on fire
   • you will have to explain to your father what happened
2. Do not break a firecracker in half, light the paper shell on fire, pick it up and blow into it when nothing happens
   • it will explode
   • you will burn your eyebrows off, and singe the nose-hairs back to your tonsils
   • you will have to explain to your mother what happened
3. Do not but a live bullet in a vise, and use files, hammers or power tools to dis-assemble it
   • it will explode
   • you will be deaf and blind for about a half hour
   • you will have to explain to your mother and father what happened
4. Do not throw big rocks at a dead, bloated, stinking, rotting cow
   • it will explode
   • it will make you sick to your stomach
   • you will have to explain to someone, somewhere, exactly what happened
5. Do not build a go-cart and use your mother’s sewing machine motor to provide power for the wheels
   • the motor will explode
   • it won’t work
   • you will have to explain to your mother again what happened
6. Further, do not build a go-cart, burn out your mother’s sewing machine motor, use an alternate power source such as your father’s table saw motor, and hook up the pedal for the sewing machine for a gas pedal to control the speed of the wheels
   • the pedal will explode
   • it still won’t work
   • you will have to explain to your mother and father again what happened
7. Do not put a dart board on the roof of the house, tie strings to darts, and shoot for bulls-eyes
   • nothing will explode, but
   • when you pull on the string to retrieve the darts, chances are very good they will fly straight back at you, and
   • you will have to climb onto the roof (bleeding from the leg) and retrieve the dart board so you will not have to explain to anyone what happened
8. Do not attempt to install a transmission into your old panel truck by yourself
   • the transmission will fall on your face
   • you will not be able to lift it off by yourself
   • you will have to explain to your brother why you have been laying under your truck, moaning, for the last hour

A couple of years ago, my brother and I were going through some old photos we salvaged from the farm. In most cases, we didn’t have the slightest inkling who the people were in the photos.

It did, however make us think. Our ancestors were a strange lot to say the least. They appear to be, shall we say, a few puppies short of a pet store.

Speaking of animals, that brings to light at least one of the recurring themes in the pictures. There is an obvious obsession with animals, and more often than not, poultry.

(more on pages 2 and 3)