Sweet relief. Thursday in Ozarkansas was overcast, faintly drizzly at times, 85°F — as much as 15°F cooler than we’d seen for several days, maybe a week or more. There’s no way for me to fairly describe how wonderful it felt.
I ran into town first thing, returned to the cabin and took a morning nap. (Remember, I rise’n’shine wicked-early.) When I woke up an hour later, I decided that nothing was more important than giving my body the rest it needed.
I went back to sleep for another 90 minutes.
By evening it was obvious that I wouldn’t write and publish a blog post. For the first time in 139 days and nearly 150 posts, I took a break.
That night, despite having napped for two-and-a-half hours during the day, I slept like a junked Oldsmobile.
My pace is deliberate. I advance without urgency. Still, I’m still a pretty structured guy — I know what I want to do each day and when I want to do it. Friday morning, however, I intentionally pushed my routine back by an hour.
(Yes, I realize that’s still structured. I’m tedious that way.)
I opened a new can of coffee. As part of cutting expenses to the bone, and given higher prices for wake-up juice lately, I looked for alternatives to the Folgers Black Silk I’d been drinking for years.
I hated to admit it, but I was buying Black Silk out of habit, nothing more. It was reflexive, not rational. Truth is, I never got over my initial impression that it was overrated, and now it’s also grossly overpriced.
And so I’m taking Maxwell House Original Blend for a spin. That was my go-to 25 years ago, and it’s a solid 25% less expensive (per ounce) than what I seek to replace.
It’s just fine.
Nothing comes close to freshly ground beans, of course, and it’s foolish to think that anything in a can can. I’ll treat myself to beans again one of these days — Black Rifle, probably — but for now, Maxwell House will do for a daily brew.
In the mood to knock out chores, check boxes and take advantage of the cooler temps, I turned water back on to the fifth-wheel and flipped the 50A breaker to restore shore power. It had been a good while since I’d done that and, in the interest of responsible maintenance (even if I’m not living in the thing anymore), I wanted to charge the batteries and attend to the plumbing.
As I went from faucet to faucet and shower to toilet, running each one to get fresh water into the lines, traps and tanks, I looked around the rig’s interior. I saw no signs of infestation — no wasps, no Chinese beetles, no mouse turds. No leaks, either. All good.
My phone’s calendar said that the recurring task of exercising the generators was set for the following day. That’s what I did next, running each under a 750W load for 30 minutes.
The whole affair went without a hiccup. I do want to highlight a couple of things.
Though it’s possible to operate the Firman’s choke manually, part of this ritual is checking the function of its electronic choke and electric start. The battery was dead (not unusual), and the shed is a long way from a 120VAC outlet to charge it, so I pull-started the Generac first and plugged the Firman’s charger into its 20A receptacle.
Twenty minutes later, the Firman had enough juice to actuate the choke and spin the starter.
Whenever a small engine that’s been stored awhile refuses to start, there’s a good chance it’s because its carburetor is gummed-up. And in most cases, that’s the result of it being put away with fuel sitting in the float bowl.
I exercise these generators regularly on fuel spiked with Sta-Bil, but I still like to run the carbs dry afterward if I can. The Generac doesn’t provide an easy way to do that, and my run-and-maintain regimen accounts for it.
The Firman has a fuel-control knob on the main panel. I rotate it to “O” and let the engine run out of gas.
On the Predator, the main control knob has an “OFF/STORAGE” position. That setting interrupts fuel flow to the carburetor, and as I do with the Firman, I let the engine run ’til it dies.
Each of these machines has a role to play during an outage. They’re particularly important in the winter, to keep plumbing from freezing. That’s why this monthly maintenance is absolutely essential.
With the generators shut down and cooling off outside the shed, I started the Ranger and headed for the summit to deal with two small to-dos.
The first was to take down the Mountain Two trailcam, which had been in the same spot for almost three years. It was time to bring it down below and re-deploy it covertly for security purposes. (Even though it’s no longer connected to a cellular network, it still records to its SD card.)
I also fetched my firewood sled, something I’d meant to do since I felled and processed four wind-downed trees last winter. Before I reached to flip it over, I kicked it — y’know, in case it was occupied. (That’s something of a survival skill out here.)
When I turned the sled upright, I saw evidence that at some point it had, indeed, served as a critter shelter. Raccoons, judging by the pawprints.
I loaded it into the bed of the Ranger and hauled it to the shed. There I leaned it against the mature cedar that also supports my utility cart and wheelbarrow. I put the generators away, followed by the buggy, and declared the morning a success.
It was great to be up and out, doin’ stuff. Skies were chalky, the air was cool (low 70s), and the northerly breeze was easy — perfect workin’ weather.
The afternoon high came up short of 80°F on Friday. We didn’t even get to 75°F ’til 4pm. It was glorious.
Now let’s play another game of “What Do You See?”
Among the duff and rocks and decaying branches at the edge of the woods, I saw movement.
I was finally quick enough — and in the right place at the right time — to get a shot of what I believe is an adult eastern fence lizard (Sceloporus undulatus).
This one was about two-and-a-half inches long, observed west of the shed.
As I walked back toward the cabin, on the rocks I spotted a juvenile.
The youngins are tiny — an inch long, if that. This one struck a pose for me.
The encounters made my day.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable