Western Tanager in the back yard

Saw this beauty in the back yard and managed to get a picture before he flew away.  Pretty sure I saw his mate the day before, but not quickly enough.

First time I've had a Tanager visit, even though the bird book says this is part of their summer range.

Why it takes 2 1/2 hours to hang three glass panels.

Yesterday I started around 7 with the intention of installing the hooks for the stained glass.  

Out to the garage to get the 8 foot ladder.  See the newly purchased and delivered multi-ladder and wonder whether it will work just as well.  Unwrapped the ladder, removed the scaffold plates packed with it.  Went to attach the stabilizer bars and the rubber ends stunk. Badly.

Rubbed Dawn all over them which helped a little.  Then dripped some peppermint oil on them and rubbed that around.  Better, but still an obnoxious petroleum smell.  So I set them outside to see if the sun could bake the smell out.

So, 8 foot ladder.  Moved the bench out from under the living room window, and carefully brought the 8 foot ladder into the living room.  I didn't even hit the ceiling fan this time.

Back to the garage to get the measuring tape and a pencil.  Figured I had better put the drill battery on to charge.  I thought lithium batteries weren't supposed to lose charge from sitting?

Up the ladder to measure where the hooks should go.  Had trouble getting center aligned.  Half of 71 is 35.5.  So why doesn't a dot at 35.5 measure equally both ways?  Hmm.  Measure three times.  

See that the ledge of the window is dusty and has bird poop on it from when the sparrow got into the house.  Down the ladder to get a scrubber and sponge.  Up the ladder to clean.  Down the ladder to rinse.  Up the ladder for one last cleaning pass.

Down the ladder to rinse out the scrubber and sponge.  I look out the kitchen window and saw a brilliant yellow bird – Western Tanager – drinking at the bird bath.  Get my camera and take a picture.  Got his head, but the flowers were in the way.  Move to find a better angle, and he flies off. 

Out to the garage to get the drill and the correct size drill bit.  Up the ladder to drill the two central holes.  Drilled into the metal rim around the window.  Then the hooks wouldn't go into the holes.  And I figured a thin sheet of metal wouldn't provide much support.

Down the ladder, to the garage for spackle and a stud finder.  Up the ladder to find actual wood 3” above the window edge.   Drill new holes.  The hooks go in perfectly.  Spackle the previous holes. 

Down the ladder to move it so I can reach the west end of the window.  Move the end table so the ladder will reach.  Drill the hole and insert the hook.  Measure 33’ and it is almost to the center hook.  Maybe I can get by with 4 hooks instead of 6? 

Down the ladder to move it so I can reach the east end of the window.  Drill the hole, insert the hook.  See that the top of the hutch nearby is filthy, covered in a thick layer of dust and dog hair.

Down the ladder to move it closer to the hutch.  I get a sponge and clean ½ of the hutch top.  Down the ladder to move it, rinse out the sponge, then clean the other ½ of the hutch top. 

Upstairs to get the stained glass panels.  Realize I haven’t finished cleaning them. Start cleaning the excess wax and smudges off.  Realize that the configuration of the hooks will not work.

Back downstairs to move the ladder at least three more times, move the hooks, spackle the holes, see that the center hooks are lower than the outer hooks.  Move them again, spackle the previous holes.

Upstairs to cut the chain to size, attach the chain to the panels, examine each of the three panel in the shadow box light for smudges.  Once they are hung 8 foot up, I am not going to be cleaning them. 

One at a time, I take the three panels downstairs and up the ladder to hang the chain from the hooks.  Down the ladder to evaluate level.  Up the ladder to re-position chain.  Repeat for the next two panels.  

Stand on the stair landing to get a better view.  See that the west piece isn't level.  Up the ladder to re-position.  Twice.

Make two trips to the garage to put away the drill, ladder, spackle, measuring tape, pencil.  Done by 9:30. 

At least it looks beautiful. 

Ceiling fan blocks a bit of the view.

Projection Lamp replacement

My Sony Wega TV is about 5 years old.  The picture was getting bad. In fact sometimes it was so dark I could barely see what was going on.  

I assumed that a new lamp would require an expensive service call.  So I was considering getting a new TV.

Sure enough, the lamp replacement warning came up Tuesday.  I looked in the manual and the instructions seemed pretty straightforward.  I found a new lamp on Amazon was only $85.

Hmm.  $85 versus $500 to $750 for a new TV. 

I ordered the lamp from Amazon Tuesday evening around 7.  By the time I got home from work yesterday, it was waiting for me.

The step by step instructions were perfect. I had the lamp replaced within 15 minutes, and that included moving the entertainment center to get to the back of the TV. 

I turned the TV on, and the picture was beautiful.

The lamp replacement even came with a prepaid mailer to recycle the old bulb.  

Very pleased. 

Exciting dog walk

Last evening was lovely. Even though my knee was bothering me and Angel's leg was stiff, I figured we could still go for a walk if we took it easy.  So at 6, I took Bogie and Angel for what was intended to be a leisurely walk.  And was. 

Until we rounded our home street.  

Bogie was leading, as he usually does.  At the second house from the corner, hidden from view by the car in the driveway, the owner had his two bulldogs leashed out in the yard.  Close to the sidewalk.  

The bulldogs started lunging at the end of their leashes, barking and growling.  Bogie, of course, was interested.  I don’t think he would have hurt them, but I don’t like to take the chance.  One bite and most other dogs would be dead.  I didn't want Bogie to think he had to defend himself, or me.  

The leash gave Bogie too much leeway so I grabbed his collar and yanked.  I was glad he was wearing his prong collar instead of the regular choke chain.  It gave me better control.

Somehow I ended up straddling him and couldn't get off without loosening my grip.  In the meantime, Angel is milling around and getting tangled around Bogie.  Bogie either wanted to play or fight and started baying and pawing the ground. 

It was chaos. 

The owner offered to take his dogs inside, but I just about had mine under control.  It took a couple minutes to get things back in order.  

We went on our way.  I felt badly that I didn't have as much control as I should have.  But I had no advance warning where I could have shortened the leash or crossed the street. 

I was the only one injured in the melee.  My right wrist ached, probably from jerking on the collar.  And my left knee hurt.  Probably got twisted.  

We made it home with no more incidents.

I used to be a clean freak

In my younger years, I was a fervid cleaner, setting aside Saturdays to clean my house from top to bottom.   Cleaning is not longer a huge priority.  I'm big on controlling clutter.  Not so big on dusting, vacuuming, etc.

A major reason for this change?  Arizona dust.

Arizona dust is fine, light, and ubiquitous.  I lived in Iowa and Illinois prior to moving to Arizona.  In those states, you bought hutches to store china or knickknacks so they wouldn't get dusty.

In Arizona, the dust gets inside the hutches, the cupboards, the closets, the medicine cabinets.  Everywhere.

I have a two story house.  I can dust the downstairs, go upstairs and dust, come downstairs and already see the beginnings of a new layer of dust.

If you dust and no one sees, you can't prove you dusted.

Well okay, you can tell by the depth of the dust whether it has been a long while between dustings.

But the thin layer of dust that was a sign of poor housekeeping in Iowa doesn't count here.

During monsoon season, the dust comes in huge, moving waves that obscure the sun and blind motorists. But Arizona dust is always around.  I sometimes wonder if the inside of my lungs looks like the top of my refrigerator.

It's no wonder everyone I know suffers from allergies.

Why don't I leave?  Well, every state has issues.  Iowa and Illinois had humidity, mud, and mosquitoes.  Arizona weather and a job I like outweigh the hassles of the dust.

Besides, if I ignore it, it isn't there.  Right?

Why are reruns so comforting?

When I come home from work, I turn on the TV and hope that NCIS is showing on USA or Castle is showing on TNT.

Yesterday I was home sick from work and was thrilled to discover a Castle marathon, with a side of NCIS when I didn't like a particular Castle episode.  (There are very few of those, by the way.)

Why are reruns so comforting?

It's not just Castle or NCIS.  I will watch Jeff Dunham on Comedy Central almost every time he is on.  And laugh every time I do.  Or The Incredibles, or The Princess Diaries, or Doctor Who.  I've watched RED, Knight and Day, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith more times than I can count.

There is a comfort in advance knowledge that the show will, or won't, have a happy ending.

There is a release from the responsibility of paying close attention so you won't miss any plot points, and of knowing when your favorite parts will air.

There is pleasure in listening to the favorite conversations of your favorite characters.

It's the same reason I will reread some books over and over.  It's the people in them, their thoughts, hopes, dreams, conversations, and adventures.

I don't know the psychology behind it.  I just know that reruns are welcoming, comforting, and friendly.

I'm grateful to cable television for extending the lives of so many of my favorite programs.

What are your "comfort foods" shows?

What happened to my time management skills?

Something happened to me when I was laid off last year. I had 4+ months of severance and I enjoyed every minute of it.

But I lost my ability to manage my time effectively.

When I worked before, I made it to the gym 4 times a week.  I wrote blog posts 2 or 3 times a week.  I got projects started - and finished.

I can't seem to accomplish any of that now.

Somehow, I've gained an appreciation of doing nothing.

I'll drop everything to play fetch with the dogs or go for a walk.

I'll start a project I know I won't finish until later.  Sometimes much later.

And I've become okay with that.

I don't get nearly as much done as I did.

But I'm enjoying it much, much more.