Dumb Things I’ve Done

So That’s What That Switch Is For

When we first moved into our home here in Fairview three months ago I went around testing each light switch to see what they controlled. There was one on a side wall of the main bedroom’s closet that was placed pretty high up. The closet light switch was at the right height and right by the door into there, so this second switch was a mystery.

I had the phone number of the previous owner, so I called him up to ask if he knew what that switch was for. He replied, “I have no idea what it does.” I told him, “I was going to get an electrician in for something else and when I did I’d get him to figure it out.” The previous owner’s response was, “Call and tell me, then we’ll both know.” I have never gotten around to the electrician thing. I had a hunch it was for the water heater because in that closet was a bump out that was perfect sized for one and close by to it was a whole house water shut off.

During our winter storm last week when we were close to losing power I got down a heavy blanket we had on the top shelf of the main closet in case we had to huddle under something to stay warm. The very next day when Donna went to shower she shouted, I have no hot water. I tried a different faucet or two and there wasn’t any hot water there either. With all the flickering and near misses at a power failure my first thought was a tripped breaker. The one labeled water heater was fine, but I cycled it anyway. My next thought was to see if there was a separate breaker on the water heater itself. As I was unscrewing the fasteners on that bump out I looked up and that mystery switch was in the down position! Aha!

I must have turned the switch to the down position when I dragged down that blanket, flipped it up and 20 minutes later we had hot water.

Lack of Attention to Detail

About a month ago we were in Walmart, shopping for some groceries that we like, but Fred Meyers stopped carrying them or never did. When we got back to the car to put our purchases in the trunk an employee out gathering carts stopped and said, “You know you have your tires on the wrong side of the car?”

I looked down at the rears tire I was closest to, sure enough the tread pattern was facing the wrong way. Doh! “Wow, I must have messed up when I swapped the summer tires for the winter all-seasons back in March”, I told him. The fellow said he noticed because he also has a Miata, a ’90, and has run these tires on his car in the past.

I thanked him and the next day I swapped the tires to their correct sides. This was not a real big deal because the tread pattern is that way to improve wet traction by channeling water from out from under the tire and I don’t think the Miata has been in the rain since we have lived in Oregon. Well maybe I had the wipers on intermittent once last year…

Today was another one of those Walmart runs and when we pulled into the lot I noticed a white early model Miata, so I parked next to it figuring it might be that guy’s car. When we here last time and I asked him where his car was he had pointed over in the side of the lot. When I got out and looked at it I noticed he had a “Share the Road” license plate too.

Adventures In Picture Hanging

When shopping at Fred Meyers last week we started at the back of the store because we needed some stuff out of the Garden Department. On our way over to the grocery section we walked by the Home Décor area and right there on an end cap were these 40″ x 30″ photo prints on canvas for sale at 50% off.

As we leafed through the stack we saw a forest scene with a trail through it and Donna said, “Ooh, I like that one.” I said, “Me too!” Not only was it the scene, but it was the color too. It would fit perfectly with the greens of our bedroom colors and we did need something to hang on the wall behind the bed. When this type of synchronicity happens, we knew that this was a must buy. So we did.1

Yesterday I decided to hang it up. First up I hammered two sawtooth picture hangers into the back of the frame of the photo 5″ in from each edge to hold it up. Then I measured the wall horizontally and the space between the top of the headboard and the ceiling so that I could figure out how to put the picture in the center of the space.

The ceiling height was at 93″ and the top of the bed was 54″ from the floor giving me 39″. I then subtracted the picture height and divided it half to give me the height of the top of the picture to the ceiling, 4-1/2″ The wall was 102″ wide, subtracting the picture width of 40″ and dividing that by 2 gave me 31″ from the wall edges.

I dragged the bed away from the wall and got out my laser level and transferred my measurement to the wall and drilled two holes to mount the screws. As I held up the picture to hang it I quickly realized that the screws were no where near where the sawtooth hangers were. Doh! Homer Simpson head slap. I forgot that I had mounted the hangers 5″ in from each edge of the picture.

So, I measured five inches in from both wrongly placed screws and drilled 2 more holes. I placed the picture back on the wall and stepped back. Nice, got it two. I’ll spackle the extra 2 holes later. I pushed the bed back up against the wall, using the existing dents in the carpet to get it back exactly were it was. Stepped back again to admire my handy work and the picture wasn’t centered over the bed. #%$&#@!

The bed itself was not in the middle of the wall. One side was further right to allow Donna an easy path out along the side wall without having to turn sideways. The main bath is behind the wall the bed is on, so that my side has almost four feet of room to the other side wall.

I took the picture down and stood it up against the wall it has been leaning on for the last week and a half. Sometime later this week I will try and get the photo mounted correctly. You know what they say, “The third times a charm.” Keep your finger crossed…

7.1 miles on Fred Meyers run.
Times Miata Driven since 01/01/22: 29

 

Don’t Forget Step 15

On Monday evening Donna called me into the kitchen to listen to the garbage disposal. It was making a strange noise and she thought that there might be something stuck in there. Cleaning out the disposal, like killing spiders, is man’s work, so I turned it on and it was making a very metallic noise, nothing like something stuck inside, but more like bad bearings.

Tuesday morning we headed off to Home Depot to buy a nice shiny new one. In the afternoon I swapped out the old Badger with the new Badger 100. Because I had swapped out a garbage disposal before back in Aiken I know how to do it, so it took about an hour and the hardest part was holding the unit up straight so I could lock it into place under the sink.

On Wednesday evening I was again summoned to the kitchen. Not garbage disposal this time, but dishwasher. The dishes were clean, but not rinsed and the the bottom of the dishwasher was full of water. Off to the internet to see what I might do about this. Looked at several pages of info and tried the easiest first, rerun the cycle and see if it drains. While it was running we tagged teamed the the dishes, I washed off the rinse agent and she dried and put away. Unfortunately the second cycle still left water in the bottom. Next and most obvious would be hose out connection to the garbage disposal, so I asked my wife if there was water in the bottom of the dishwasher after she washed on Tuesday and she said there wasn’t.

Every other solution I found I could check easily enough and dismiss or didn’t apply, leaving calling a repair person or buying a new dishwasher. You know, I don’t remember popping out the the dishwasher drain plug in the disposal, but Donna said there wasn’t any water in the bottom of the dishwasher after her first run on Tuesday. Did the disposal come with it already knocked out?

This morning, Thursday, I removed the dishwasher drain hose from the disposal and stuck my finger in the pipe and sure enough it was stopped dead. That is why the dishwater wouldn’t drain, it had no where to send the water except 6 feet down a plastic pipe where it got promptly turned around. Luckily there was enough room under the sink that I could get a screwdriver into the drain outlet pipe and whack it hard enough to get the plug out with out to much drama.

I forgot Step 15. I was lulled into a false sense of my own home repair acumen by having done the same job previously that I didn’t even read all the installation instructions, but I didn’t take into account the decrease of fine detail memory brought on by advancing age and the fact that I had done this job only once before a couple of decades ago.

Schrodinger’s Lottery Ticket

For practically forever, we have been buying a Mega Millions quick pick ticket that gets us into the bi-weekly drawing for 5 weeks at a time. We routinely end up not winning squat, so every month and a quarter we get an Andrew Jackson out of the ATM, and place that money down on a chance at winning mega-millions.

Thursday last week, we when out for an evening drive and in the middle we stopped at Fred Meyer to use the lottery vending machine and bought our next Mega Millions Lottery Ticket.

The bought ticket hangs on the upper shelf of my computer desk and earlier this week while watching a movie on the PC I noticed there wasn’t one there. My “prop” Mega Lotto Jackpot ticket with the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 & 42 that Hurley won $114 million with was still there, but no real life Mega Millions ticket. By the time I finished watching the movie I had forgotten all about the lottery ticket.

Yesterday, while I finished watching the last episode of Devs, I again noticed the missing lottery ticket. This time I clued Donna in, so we commenced to searching for it. The last time I remember seeing it, it was in the center console of the Miata. That was what we were driving that evening. I put the ticket in there because I didn’t want to put in my pocket where it would get wrinkled. We started there. Not in the center console. It was also not in the glove box. Or the trunk. For thoroughness we looked in the Mini too. We came back upstairs and while I searched every pocket in every item of clothing that I could have been wearing when I bought the ticket, Donna was busy searching in the living area where any piece of paper could be laying. We both came up empty.

Thus we became owners of a Schrodinger’s Lottery Ticket. Because I didn’t think to memorize the 6 numbers on the ticket and there has been two Mega Millions drawings since then, right now we are both winners, and losers, until we somehow happen to find that ticket.

Not wanting to not find the ticket and then read in the local paper of a Klamath Falls individual who purchased a jackpot winning ticket and never coming forward to claim the prize, we went out this evening and bought another ticket.

I’ve Got A Screw Loose

Because yesterday afternoon was sunny and lower 60’s, when we headed out to run some errands, we opted to do them in the Miata. About 2 blocks down the road a fairly loud rumbling started and the front end of the car was doing a small wobble. Donna went, “What’s that?” I answered, “Might have a flat.” A couple of seconds later I said, “I know what it is,” and did a quick u-turn to head back home.

This post should really have been titled “I’ve Got A Few Lug Nuts Loose.” For what has to be at least the sixth or seventh time in my career I have not fully tightened down the lug nuts on a wheel or two (or four) after rotating the tires or doing some brake maintenance. Including one time in the early 80’s that happened with Donna driving and having to stop at a place to have them diagnose the rumbling sound the car was making.

This is why I was getting the stink-eye from her as we returned to the Pacific Terrace driveway. Because just before turning around I had said, “I forgot to tighten the lug nuts.” On Wednesday afternoon I installed the new front license plate mount, which had caused me to remove the front wheels and I missed the final step.

About the second time this happened in Aiken, I devised a way to make sure not to forget this step by taking the torque wrench and placing it right at the entrance to the garage. There was no way for me to miss it and I sure as heck couldn’t drive the low clearance Miata over the wrench. To my credit, I did something similar here too, but because I was working close to the garage opening, the torque wrench was mixed in with all the other tools I was using, so it got put away with everything else. I think a new safeguard is required. Possibly I should buy a baseball cap from the Lansing Michigan minor league baseball team to wear when working on the car. Or, perhaps putting the torque wrench on the driver’s seat might work.

Really, That Long?

On Thursday morning I called around looking for a doctor to get a tetanus shoot and to establish a relationship with. I’ve got a few prescriptions that I’m going to need refills of in January and I think our old doctor in Aiken is eventually going to catch onto the whole I’m just visiting in Oregon thing.

My first call was to the Adult Medical Clinic at the local hospital. They were listed on the BCBS of Alabama website. When I called I was informed there were three doctors and only one was accepting new patients and the next available appointment was in July 2020! The nice person who answered the phone said I might try something called Cascades East, when I called them they said the waiting list is 6 months! I had them send me the forms to get on the waiting list.

In the meantime we could avail ourselves with the services of Basin Immediate Care, a walk-in clinic that takes anyone who can pay or has insurance. So guess where we spent 2-1/2 hours on Thursday afternoon getting a tetanus shot and a band aid?

This afternoon we had a shiny new 3/4 horsepower, kevlar belt drive garage door opener with two remotes and a wireless keypad installed. So much smoother and quieter that the old chain drive unit. Now it has got us thinking about replacing that old heavy wooden door. When the installer took the old unit down we looked at the date of manufacture on the sticker and it read 1995. Twenty-five years, so it had a pretty good life, but who knows how much longer it would have noisily gone about doing its job if I hadn’t accidentally killed it.