April 30th

Today is the 30^th of April.  Let’s look at events for this date:

• This date places us 239 days from Christmas.
• Thousands of people I don’t know were born on this day of the year.
• In 1789, George Washington was inaugurated as the first President of the United States.
• In 1904, the ice cream cone made its debut at the St. Louis World's Fair.
• In 1945, Adolf Hitler committed suicide as the Red Army captured Berlin.
• In 1952, Mr. Potato Head was the first toy advertised on television.
• In 1975, Saigon Fell and Uyen, the woman who would become my wife ten years later, fled the city (and her homeland) on one of the last American choppers evacuating Vietnam.
• April 30^th is National Honesty Day.
• Willie Nelson was born on this day of the year.
• I am going to my cabin today.

— Mitchell Hegman

The Inside of Rocks

I live in an amazing place for collecting rocks.  You, literally, cannot pick up a rock to throw without first checking to see if it is a keeper specimen.  I look for pretty rocks at most every step as I wander the area around my house.

A few days ago, following a rainstorm, I found a prettyish rock in the middle of our road as I walked down to the lake.  I have walked that same section of road many hundreds—maybe thousands—of times.  But this time, a swirl of red in the rock called to me.

I scratched the rock from the hardpack with another sharply pointed rock and stuffed it in my pocket.

Yesterday, I lugged the rock down to Kevin’s house near the lake to cut it on the lapidary saw we share.

The ability to saw rock in two rocks adds an amazing new dimension to rockhounding.  It does for rock collecting what the MRI does for medicine.  An amazing level of (normally) unseen inside details can be revealed.

Sawing the stone in two did not disappoint me.  When I showed Kevin the cut rock, he said it best.  “I love the inside of rocks,” he said.

My “Road” Rock

— Mitchell Hegman

My Strange Fondness for Flies

I live with a cat, which is the next closest thing to living alone.  I think living without regular human interaction has made me a little goofy.  For one thing, I have developed something of a friendly relationship with some flies in my house.

Actually, I have grown fond of the flies.

They are not house flies.  These are super-tiny fellas.  A dozen of these flies could carve out a grain of rice to make a dugout canoe and then all comfortably fit inside the canoe on a float trip down the Smith River.

A limited population of the flies has been living (and breeding) in my house for at least five years now.  They are here winter and summer.  I might see one every two or three days.

In the last year or so, I have started talking to the mini-flies.  “How is it going, buddy?” I might ask when one hovers near my morning coffee.  “How is the fam?”

The little flies do a lot of hovering.

They also seem to be attracted to my computer.  “What do you guys eat?” I asked one the other day when it landed near the “delete” button on my computer keyboard.

I didn’t expect an answer and I never got one.

Thing is, it’s nice to have a fly to talk to, even if I do all the talking.

— Mitchell Hegman

Applying Logic

A few years ago, following the death of a young woman who left behind young children, someone said: “Well, I guess God had more use for a good mother than we did.”

I thought about that statement a great deal.

I don’t suspect the “we” mentioned in the statement included the woman’s children.  Surely, they needed their mother beyond anyone.

And then I tried to extend the logic of the statement to when some low-life bastard dies.  The new logic would look like this: “I guess God needs a thieving and cheating methhead more than we did.”

In some ways, the last application makes more sense.

— Mitchell Hegman

Times Like These (Again)

 I have always contended there are levels of beauty that may be equaled, but not exceeded.  In natural landscapes I have personally seen many places fitting this description.  Glacier National Park, Bryce Canyon, Ha Long Bay (Vietnam), the Li River (China), and any forest of giant sequoia trees are examples.

Not just good stuff.  The best stuff.

In music, I find a similar level of beauty in certain songs.   Ghost Riders in the Sky fits the bill.   House of the Rising Sun is there.  And how can you get any better than Patsy Kline singing Crazy?

Recently, another song crept up onto my list of perfect songs.  The song was remade into a multi-artist video in response to the Covid Pandemic.  That version, in particular, reaches me.  I find myself regularly pulling up the video on my computer.  I have also posted this video here once before.

This song makes me feel good:

— Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7GElP4YdrBE

Your Dilemma

Here is your dilemma:  You have just enough parts to build either a sex robot, a fighting robot for BattleBots, or a robot for cleaning your house.  Which will you build?

— Mitchell Hegman

Weather Report for April 23, 2021

We had thirty minutes of spring yesterday afternoon.  I went outside and looked at it.  At the end of the thirty minutes, a single snowflake sifted down through the sky and stuck to my forehead.  I went back inside again.

— Mitchell Hegman

Safety Duct Tape

I have long known the value of duct tape for both emergency and permanent repairs.  It’s remarkably good stuff.

Yesterday, I extended duct tape into the realm of personal protective equipment (PPE). 

While sawing the tails off eight roof trusses where I need to provide backing for my new sunroom’s glazing, the swirling winds kept blowing sawdust into my eyes in spite of my wearing safety glasses.

After cutting only two trusses, I stepped inside my house and hastily applied tabs of duct tape to my safety glasses to provide a seal around my face.

I like to think I’m a problem solver.  And, thanks to duct tape, maybe I am.

It wasn’t pretty, but it did work.

My other option was pulling a clear plastic bag over my head.

— Mitchell Hegman

Asking for a Friend

Is it bad if, when thinking about all the stupid things you have done in your life, it takes a couple hours just to get through what you did yesterday?  Asking for a friend.

— Mitchell Hegman

Litterbugs

Yesterday morning, I walked a mile or so down the country road leading to my house.  The road cuts through a section of state trust land.  One of the access points for the state holding has developed into a place for people to target practice or simply plink away at nothing with their firearms.  As I drew near this spot, I saw something—a lot of somethings—glinting across the ground.

On close approach, I found the ground littered with spent shotgun shells and brass casings.  I took a few minutes to pick up the spent rounds and stuff them in my jacket and pants pockets.

I have long known that some of my fellow citizens can be litterbugs.  Now, they are becoming well-armed litterbugs.  Not a particularly good trend.

My Litter Collection from Yesterday

— Mitchell Hegman

Wan-Hoo

Wan-Hoo crater is an impact crater of the far side of the moon.  The fact we cannot see Wan-Hoo from Earth is somewhat fitting.  The crater was named after “Wan Hu,” a legendary sixteenth century Chinese official who vanished in a most interesting way.  He is considered the worlds first astronaut.

We may have a bit of trouble sorting out legend from fact here, but the story is an interesting one.

Wan Hu fancied he might fly to the Moon.  In an attempt to get there, he fixed forty-seven fireworks rockets to a wicker chair.  Wan Hu sat in the chair and, on his command, had forty-seven assistants with torches simultaneously light the fuses.  The rockets ignited with a thunderous sound.  Smoke billowed in all directions.

When the smoke cleared, Wan Hu and the chair were gone.

He was never seen again.       

— Mitchell Hegman

Don’t Worry About the Water

With Montana at long last considering warmer weather, my cat is willing to spend a few hours outside.  I recently put his “fair weather” water bowl out on the back deck for him.

The water bowl is a risky move.  Plenty of opportunities for freezing the water still exist.  Glancing ahead at our weather yesterday, I saw we may be in for a spate of freezing cold.

This morning, I woke to snow.

No need to worry about the water, though.  When I poked my head out to check on the water, I saw the high winds preceding the cold and snow blew the bowl over and sent it out into the native grass of my yard.

Thank you, Montana weather!    

— Mitchell Hegman

Undercover Boss

I watched a couple episodes of Undercover Boss. If you are unfamiliar with the program, the premise is to create a disguise for the boss (CEO or owner) of a big company and send them out to work in the ranks as a way to see how the company is functioning at all levels.  The big bosses often find all manner of problems and disconnects between management and workers.  At the same time, they often find some impressive employees.

One of the episodes I watched featured an incredibly hard-working and optimistic maintenance worker—a man approaching middle age.  The undercover boss was extremely impressed and asked the man about his motivations.

“I treat this job like it’s the job I always wanted.  That way, when I get the one I always wanted, I will be ready.”

I love that attitude. 

In this case, the man wanted to manage a warehouse.

At the end of each episode, the boss meets with the employees he worked with (as the boss) and often rewards the most remarkable employees.  Going undercover on this episode, the boss found himself a new warehouse manager and justly rewarded him.     

— Mitchell Hegman

An Honorary Montanan

Desiree has never been to Montana, but she is already a big fan.  She regularly visits the Facebook group Montanica! postings.  She has a million questions about Montana’s weather, wildlife, waters, trees, and the people.  She insists I take pictures to share with her when I travel anywhere in the state.

Desiree already knows plenty about Montana.  I am not certain I have the authority, but as of yesterday I have decided to make Desiree an “honorary” Montanan.  She has earned it.  I especially like the things she says about Montana.

Yesterday, she wanted to see photographs from my drive home from Gardiner along Hubway 89 between Wilsall and Townsend.

“Wow!” she gushed after I shared a few photographs.  “It’s like you’re covered with sky there.  You have a beautiful blanket of sky over you.”

“Yes,” I responded.  “That’s it, exactly!”

I have posted the photographs I shared with Desiree.

— Mitchell Hegman

The Origin of Some Common Phrases

A just argument can be mounted for anointing William Shakespeare as the greatest writer in the English Language.  I did not see the value in his work as a frisbee-throwing eighth-grade boy when a teacher first shoved his work in front of my face.  In time, though, with more exposure an explanation of his words, I learned to appreciate his work. One thing is certain, Shakespeare made a lot of contributions to the language.  Following is a list of just a few common phrases originated by William Shakespeare:

• “Wild goose chase” (Romeo and Juliet)
• “Forever and a day” (As You Like It)
• “It’s Greek to me” (Julius Caesar)
• “Cruel to be kind” (Hamlet)
• “Love is blind” (The Merchant of Venice)
• “Break the ice” (The Taming of the Shrew)
• “Heart of gold” (Henry V)

— Mitchell Hegman

SOURCE: DANA SCHWARTZ mentalfloss.com

The Drive In

I drove to Gardiner, Montana, for my favorite teaching gig.  Today, I will conduct a class at Mammoth for the Yellowstone National Park electricians.  I really enjoy the electrician’s and I especially like the drive to and from this venue.  The scenery and wildlife are world class.

Snow squalls and clouds obscured the peaks of the higher mountains as I drove down through Paradise Valley.  Nearing the park, I began to encounter a lot of deer, elk, and bighorn sheep alongside the road.

The animals look a bit scruffy as they transition from winter to summer coats.  

I have posted four photographs from my drive in.

 

The Absaroka Range

Bighorn Sheep

Bighorn Sheep

Elk

— Mitchell Hegman

My Sweet Solar PV System

For my birthday, in addition to receiving my second Covid jab, Desiree had the most amazing cake made for me.  Because the cake is in Manila and I am at home on here on the Montana prairie, I can only look at the cake from across the “interweb.”  Desiree and her girls are going to have to eat it for me, also.

Apparently, Desiree found the cake maker on Facebook and sent off specifications for the design.   Most amazingly, for delivery, the cake had to survive a 40-kilometer journey through metro Manila on the back of a motorcycle.  I am not sure I could survive that.

The cake features some a few electrician’s tools, some wire, a bottle of Glenlivet, and my solar PV system.

The best cake, ever!

My Solar PV System

My Sweet Solar PV System

— Mitchell Hegman

The Beginning of the End

Today is my birthday.  At 4:55 PM this afternoon I will be receiving a most amazing gift.  The gift?   My second Covid vaccination shot.

I never imagined I would be thrilled by the thought of someone poking me with a needle, but here we are. 

Covid is just weird enough to scare the hell out of me.  Some people I know waltzed right through Coved infections.  Others, had their asses handed to them.  All of us know the stories.

For the last year, I have altered my behavior and sacrificed to avoid either catching or spreading Covid.  Today marks the beginning of the end of that.

— Mitchell Hegman

Lax Work Habits

In my semiretirement, I have developed somewhat lax work habits when it comes to home improvement projects.

No hurry here.

I am readily willing to stop work for the day if something comes up.  Almost anything will suffice in that regard.  Just the other, day I stopped calking around my windows when the wind lifted my hat a little.  “Well,” I thought to myself, “that’s enough of that.  I’ll finish on a nicer day.”

I stopped my stucco demolition project twice on account of working up an actual sweat.  Working up a sweat will never do.   Dropping my hammer twice in a row is enough to make me stop for the day.  A cord accidentally coming unplugged from a power tool is enough.

Down with the tools, and off I go, walking across the prairie surrounding my house looking for pretty rocks.

— Mitchell Hegman

Deeper Questions

• Do cats dream of ignoring humans?
• Is it bad if your shadow walks away from you?
• Given that you can experience phantom feelings in a missing arm, is I possible to have phantom cowlicks after you go bald?
• “Fob” as used in “garage door fob”: acronym or not?
• Is it wrong to cut a pizza into squares?
• How different would our lives be if we had hollow bones like birds do?

— Mitchell Hegman

Disney Characters at the Mall

Something filled with light to start our day.

— Mitchell Hegman

VIDEO LINK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hd_2Y29_FLU

Sideways

Back in my days of working construction, I learned something about making mistakes.  I often made mention of this when my boss handed me a new set of blueprints for a job he wanted me to do.  “Well, Joe,” I would say to him, “you can expect two mistakes from me on this.  One won’t cost you money, but one will.”

That mostly held true on every large job I supervised.  Sometimes, my mistakes cost several thousand dollars.

I thought about that as I watched the drama of the 200,000-ton cargo vessel Ever Given in the Suez Canal last month.  Stuck sideways in the channel for six days, the ship blocked all traffic for the entire time.

That’s a big deal.

Last year, an average of 51.5 ships a day navigated through the canal.  Hundreds of ships stacked up outside the canal waiting for the waterway to be cleared as the Ever Given remained stuck in the sand.  According to the Suez Canal Authority, “human errors” likely played a role in the ship’s grounding.

The blockage resulted in a loss of $400 million per hour.  An estimated 15% of world trade paused as the Ever Given remained sideways in the Suez Canal.

I am glad I was not holding the blueprints this time.

— Mitchell Hegman

(PHOTO:  Marcel Dirsus)

On the Other Hand

Pretentious people don’t kick their adversaries in the nuts.  They go for the testicles.

— Mitchell Hegman

A Bad Year for Termites

A friend of mine lives in Eastern Montana.  We talk on the phone on a fairly regular basis.  While talking yesterday, he says to me: “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked.

 “I have termites.”

“Termites?  In Montana?”

“Yes.”

“That’s weird.  What part of your house are they eating?”

“That’s the strange part.  My basement is made of concrete block and that’s where they are.  They’re eating the wood paneling down there.  I’m getting an exterminator to take care of them?

“How much will that cost?

“Seventeen-hundred dollars.”

“What?”  I literally pulled the phone from my face and stared at for a second, just like you see in movies.  I pulled the phone back to my face.  “So, do they spray gold at termites to kill them?   That’s a lot.”

My friend went on to explain how they drill holes four feet down all around the house.  He also told me the treatment was a month out.  “I guess it’s a bad year for termites,” he added.

Given the cost of treatment to rid a house of them, I am proposing there is no such thing as a good year for termites. 

— Mitchell Hegman

Dogs Are Good Company

I let my 20 pounds of housecat out through the front door in the predawn darkness—something I regularly do.  Normally, he makes his rounds outside and, after a few minutes, works his way to the back door to come back in.

I didn’t find him at the back door on two trips to check.

Odd.

I walked to the front door and opened it, thinking I might lean out and look around.  I barely cracked the door open before my cat exploded through the opening and dashed to the center of the living room.  I immediately slammed the door closed without looking outside.  When I glanced back at the cat again.  He stood in rigid stance, staring at the door as if he expected Satan to bust through at any moment.

“What’s out there, Buddy?” I asked.

The cat cautiously walked back toward the where I stood by the door.  Once alongside me, he alternated between staring at the door and looking out the nearby floor-to-ceiling window.  Total concentration.  Ears on alert mode.

“What in the hell is out there?” I asked.  “What?”  I studied the cat—watched him sniffing at the air now.

I began to imagine creatures that might scare my cat just on the other side of my door: mountain lion, bear, bigfoot, the UPS driver.

I had to open the door. 

Had to.

As I opened the door, my cat backed away.

I timidly peeked around the door.

Nothing.

I leaned outside.

Nothing.

“Hey!” I yelled.

Nothing.

I closed the door and scowled at my 20 pounds of housecat.  “What’s the deal with you?” I asked.

Nothing.

They say dogs are good company.  Cats are weird company.

— Mitchell Hegman

Hiding in Plain Sight

Our state flower is the bitterroot.  The push to make the bitterroot so was first championed by the Montana Women's Christian Temperance Union in 1891.   A statewide vote by interested parties in 1894 saw the bitterroot flower handily win endorsement.  The bitterroot flower received 3,621 votes, evening primrose tallied 787 votes, and the wild rose garnered 668 votes.  The following year, Montana state legislators made the selection official.

A perfect choice, in my estimation.

Bitterroots are incredibly hardy.  They will (literally) grow in a pile of rocks.  When in bloom, they light up as if electrified.  When not in bloom, they hide in plain sight.  This time of year, they emerge from the soil looking like sea anemones with fat, stubby tendrils.  The plants are small and low to the ground.  Generally, the collection of tendrils is no more than three or so inches across.  By the time the plants bloom (May-June) the tendrils have mostly shriveled away.  After their showy display of flowers, the bitterroots disappear back into the earth and quietly wait for the next spring.

Where I live, they are gone by mid-July.

Yesterday, I found a collection of bitterroot plants on the hill just below my house.

     

Bitterroot Today

Bitterroot in Bloom (June)

— Mitchell Hegman

After the Ice

The ice on our section of the lake typically melts off during the first week of April.  This year is no exception.  In just the last two days, the ice vanished from around my docks and receded 100 yards down the lake.  Yesterday, with temperatures near 70, I went down to the lake to do some spring cleaning.

The St. Clair clan did the same. 

Tad rototilled the St. Clair garden.  Randy and I raked leaves and branches at our respective places.  After completing our projects, we all gathered at the fire pit.  We drank beer.  A single boat motored down the lake on the open water, swung around when confronted by the lake ice, and droned back whence it came.

First boat of the year.

We didn’t convene a meeting of the Aluminum Can Melting Guild, but we maintained a decent fire.  Randy--because he is now an adult and his dad can no longer tell him not to—put fire to a straw broom and held it aloft.

Good stuff.

Using the newly open waters as my background, I photographed a pile of ingots produced by the Aluminum Can Melting Guild over the winter.  We are ready to melt more cans in our summer fires and add ingots to the pile.

Last of the Lake Ice

Randy With the Broom

Our Pile of Aluminum Ingots

— Mitchell Hegman

Knee-Deep in Spring

I drove up to my cabin yesterday.  My first official visit of the season.  I could not drive all the way in.  Snow remains knee-deep over much of the landscape there.

In spite of the snow, spring is having its way.  The pussy willows along the creek, though still standing in snow themselves, have put forth their tufts.  More surprising, I saw two mourning cloak butterflies flapping out across the mostly snow-covered meadow.

We make ‘em tough here in Montana.

Adult mourning cloak butterflies overwinter in a frozen condition and emerge when the days are sunny and warm enough.  They will eat tree sap, fermenting fruit, and feed on flower nectar (once flowers emerge).

 Pussy Willow

Mourning Cloak (Photo: Pavel Kirillov)

— Mitchell Hegman

Educating Dummies

A few weeks ago, I shared several passages from a book about digital multimeters written by Edmond Chucks.  The most striking feature of the book was the unconventional use of our beloved English language.  Obviously, English was a second (maybe third or fourth) language for the author.

I am back with more.  Mr. Chucks apparently has several other books available—each written under a pseudonym.  I recently picked up one of these books: Digital Multimeter for Dummies, written under the name Eric Markson.

The writing is definitely the work of Edmond Chucks.  Following is a passage written about using a multimeter’s continuity test function:

“On the off chance that the sound isn’t persistent or on the off chance that you don’t hear any solid whatsoever, It implies that what you’re trying has a broken association or isn’t associated in any way.

Cautioning:  To test progression you should kill the framework!   Mood killer the force gracefully!”

I have decent grasp on electrical stuff, but I have no idea where the second paragraph took me.

I have posted a photograph of the passage in the book just to prove I am not making this up.

— Mitchell Hegman

A Chip on Their Shoulder

Today, we commonly refer to someone holding a grudge or grievance as having “a chip on their shoulder.”

A weird thing to say.

What is a chip on your shoulder?

Turns out, the idiom has roots in a literal practice.  Back in the early 1800s, surly young American men itching to fight would place a chip of wood on their shoulder and challenge others to knock it off.

If someone accepted the challenge, a fight was on.

— Mitchell Hegman