We can’t believe the 3-rock weight option to help secure the drain tile grate failed last night already. This morning, the top rock ended up about two feet away down the slope of our yard. The other two rocks were tipped over into the landscaping rod.
What’s crazy about this is how the top rock got moved so far away from the grate. I think something or someone would have to pick it up and move it. It wouldn’t have taken much strength to tip the two other rocks.
Obviously, the three grate guards failed as well, probably because they were drinking on the job. They will have to go.
On the bright side, the grate was still attached, and the clamp was secure. I replaced two of the rocks on the grate and we’re hoping for the best for now. But we won’t be surprised if it’s a mess tomorrow.
This is an ongoing mystery which requires a critter cam now. We are ordering one today.
We’re hoping to catch the culprit on camera if the shenanigans are still occurring when it’s delivered, and we’re pretty sure they’ll continue. There’s no reason I can think of for any animal to mess with a drain grate. There’s no food in the drain and water is a lot easier to get in the wild.
And what kind of person would pull a prank like this?
You’re probably wondering why I don’t just secure the pipe and the grate with stout screws and forget it. There are two reasons. One is that I’m not convinced that would eliminate the problem.
The other is like Clark Griswold’s attitude in the movie National Lampoon’s Vacation (1983), expletives deleted:
“I think you’re all bleeped in the head. We’re ten hours from the bleeping fun park and you want to bail out. Well, I’ll tell you something. This is no longer a vacation. It’s a quest. It’s a quest for fun. You’re gonna have fun, and I’m gonna have fun… We’re all gonna have so much bleeping fun we’re gonna need plastic surgery to remove our bleeping smiles! You’ll be whistling ‘Zip-A-Dee Doo-Dah’ out of your bleeps! I must be crazy! I’m on a pilgrimage to see a moose. Praise Marty Moose! Holy bleep!”
This thing is too senseless and has been going on for too long for me to say, “Just screw it.” So, the drain tile grate mystery is now a quest. No, I don’t need an aspirin!
The secret of patience is to do something else in the meantime.
Croft M. Pentz
A few days ago, Sena noticed a noise in one of the sunroom window shade wand controls. She can hear noises I can’t hear, which is a good thing. She wondered if the wand battery needed recharging. We have 3 window shades like this and they came with a recharger that works the same way a cell phone recharger does. You plug the small end into the back of the wand which has control buttons for raising and lowering the shade. You plug the two-prong end into a regular electrical outlet.
We had never recharged them. The instructions said that when plugged into the charger the wand indicator light would shine red. When fully recharged, the light should turn green.
I waited one hour, then two hours. I checked the red light every few minutes or so. Finally, I quit looking and did other things. I replaced the refrigerator water filter. I purged the system. I emptied the ice bucket. I did a load of laundry. I vacuumed the carpet in the house. I exercised. I sat in mindfulness meditation. The light was still red. I checked it after 5 hours—still red. I finally just forgot about it.
About 6 hours later, I passed by the sunroom, glanced at the window and didn’t see the red light. I looked at the wand and couldn’t see the indicator light very well. I got the magnifying glass out and caught the light just right. It was green! Sena said the noise was gone.
I plugged in another window shade wand. The red light didn’t turn green until 8 hours later. I checked it several times. There was nothing to do but be patient.
I finally just did something else. I checked my blog site and was amazed to find a comment from a colleague, Dr. Ronald W. Pies, MD. He is according to a brief bio: professor emeritus of psychiatry and a lecturer on bioethics and humanities at SUNY Upstate Medical University in Syracuse, New York; a clinical professor of psychiatry at Tufts University School of Medicine in Boston, Massachusetts; and editor in chief emeritus of Psychiatric Times™ (2007-2010). He is the author of several books. A collection of his works can be found on Amazon.
I had written a short shout-out blog post about the article he and Dr. George Dawson, MD had written and published on September 26, 2022 in Psychiatric Times, “Antidepressants Do Not Work by Numbing Emotions.”
What was unusual about Dr. Pies’ comment was that it actually turned up in my spam box! If I had not patiently waited a second to read it carefully, I would have automatically trashed it. That was close.
And I would have missed the golden opportunity to tell him that I consider both him and George my friends.
About a half hour before the wand control light turned the green, our cable TV and internet went out. Wow. I had been watching a TV show rerun, probably for the 100th time, so it was no great loss. There was the usual message you get when the service is out: Please wait while this channel is being restored kind of thing. You can’t do anything but just be patient. It was getting late in the evening and I usually don’t do much on the computer then.
A little later, after Sena had gone to bed, I thought of writing this post. I didn’t want to clack on the keyboard and wake her up, so I did something I haven’t done in years. I got pen and paper out and did some long-hand writing. I had skimmed some articles on the internet before it crashed about how reading and writing on paper were better for your brain than doing those on a computer.
It felt good to write. As I did in the distant past, I scribbled in the margins, drew arrows above lines and carets to corrections and notes. It was a mess—a partly satisfying mess.
I say “partly” because it was also not quite right. I didn’t try to type it that night or even the next day. In fact, I couldn’t post anything the following morning to my blog because the internet was still out. The cable TV came back sometime during the night. Obviously, there had been a service outage.
But because the internet was still out, I called the cable company. This was another exercise in patience. I don’t know if every other cable company puts those automated telephone recordings in front of you before you can reach an actual person. They are nuts.
Cable Company Voice (CCV): Hello, please hold on while I check your account. OK, there, I found it. Am I speaking with the owner of the account or Bozo the Clown?
Me: Nobody here but us bozos.
CCV: Great, how can I help you, Bozo?
Me: Was there a power outage in my area?
CCV: OK, I see you’re having a problem with your internet connection. I can help you with that. Are you in front of your computer now or on the roof of your house dancing the merengue?
Me: In front of my computer.
CCV: Great! Please unplug your modem and wait 3 millenia; then plug it into your toaster. This will reset the incoming signal. When you have completed this step, say “Continue.”
CCV: That was a rather quick 3 millenia. Which would you prefer: Going through another dozen more trouble-shooting steps with me or speak to an agent?
Me: Speak to an agent.
I finally got to an agent whose mere presence on the line seemed to lead to an immediate, magical restoration of our internet connection. When I specifically asked her if there had been a service outage, she said that, indeed, an outage in our area had occurred. She then arranged for an account credit to ensure we would not be charged for service during the time of the outage. Patience.
This post does not look much like the hand-written one. But waiting a while to let the thing simmer probably didn’t hurt.