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The really big bug

 

Tonight I decided to do laundry.  Normally this doesn’t involve any rescues or huge bugs, but tonight was different.  I was waiting for the washer to get done, when I heard some gasps and squeaks of fear and surprise come to me from over by the folding shelves.

There, lying on its back and struggling to get upright, was a truly HUGE beetle, about as long as my index finger not including the antennae, and shiny black.  Everyone was freaking out.  I watched it for a bit, saw it get to its feet, then sit there – barely moving.

One woman asked me to kill it.  I said “No way, then I’d have to deal with the body! ”  In truth, I neither had the implements nor the desire to squash this big bug, since it looked big enough to carve steaks off of.  I didn’t want to see bug guts in that quantity.

So I left it alone, where it sat there and did nothing while people around were wondering if it would attack them.  Finally a little Asian lady came in and asked “is that dangerous?” and I was driven to act.  Nobody else was, after all.

So I rummaged in a trash can, found a newspaper, tore off a couple big chunks, and gently prodded the beetle with one till he climbed onto the other.  He still was happy to hold still, so I took him outside well away from the light and left him on a bush.  All done, nobody hurt.  I went back in and finished the laundry, all the while thinking “wow, that’s the biggest bug I’ve ever seen!”

***

Upon further net research, I think the reason why it didn’t want to move is that it was a Palo Verde beetle, which is nocturnal and does much better in the dark.  It was probably disoriented in the bright lights of the laundromat.  Unfortunately, they aren’t the best of flyers and sometimes stray into areas where they didn’t intend to go.

Flood Aftermath: She started!

Or, “How to Fix a water flooded engine with paper towels and elbow grease.”

If you’ll recall my post yesterday about being flooded out and having my car stall, and having to be rescued by firefighters and police, I was left in doubt that my poor little car, who has been through so much, would ever start again.

This morning we started trying to get the water out of the cylinders. We did this by taking out all four spark plugs, then using a socket wrench and cheater bar to turn the flywheel. We got a couple big squirts out of the first cylinder and found that luckily the others were dry.  Apparently, a safety feature stopped the engine before water could get into all cylinders.  And the water had gotten in, most likely, from an improperly secured air filter cover.

The holes into the engine block were so deep we were at a loss as to how to get the rest of the water out. There was about a soda can’s worth in there. I recalled what I’d read yesterday on the internet, and said “we can use paper towels, roll them up and stick them down in there to wick the moisture out.”

We did that for a good while and got a bunch of water out. Then we went back to the auto parts store to turn in my old battery for the core credit, and at the same time I picked up new platinum plugs – the old ones were from the factory and going strong at 160,000 miles but I figured I should put new ones in anyway since we had it open. (You read that right, Hyundai builds quality.) We got back and shone a light in and found more water.

Then I said “Maybe if we shove the towel in with a thin stick…” so we did that, and stuck and pulled wet paper towels for what seemed like forever.  A metal shish kebab skewer worked great.  Finally we had everything out. Then we tried her. The starter was strong, and so was the battery, and she tried to crank.  The whole engine shook as the car tried to start.

Out comes the partner with a suggestion of starter fluid. My neighbor rummaged around and found a can – a few more tries with that and she started! Things were rough at first but she settled down after that and now sounds better than she did before the flood, because of the new plugs. I drove her around the block to make sure nothing was fouled. Tried the brakes, lights, signals, radio, everything works. So now, I have wheels again!

This faithful little Hyundai is a little more scratched and dented, but she runs, and I’m so unbelievably happy right now. What strikes me about this whole experience is that between myself, my neighbor, and my partner, each of us had a critical part to play – with one of us missing, this whole thing wouldn’t have worked. I researched and figured out what the problem probably was and how to fix it, my neighbor Charlie provided the tools and some of the know-how, and my partner provided support, some truly excellent suggestions, and more know-how. Oh, and I also handed over many power towels to my hard working neighbor.

***

I was prompted to write this post because the symptoms I had were more those of a seized engine or a broken starter than anything.  The first time we tried to crank the engine with a fully charged battery, the engine made a big lurch and we heard a loud clunk.  So it sounded like something was fatally wrong with the engine.  Meanwhile all that was required was removal of the spark plugs, much careful hand cranking of the engine, many, many, many power towels rolled up to fit in the cylinder and a light to look for water, and eventually a can of starter fluid.

My ride in a firetruck – and soggy experience

 

When it rains in Tucson, it rains HARD.

I had gone out to get groceries, hoping to beat the thunderstorm we saw coming.  I figured if I timed it right, I could make it home just before the better part of the rain.  If worst came to worst, I would have to drive through heavy rain but it wouldn’t be that big a deal.  That was a serious mistake!

It was pouring down before I got to the grocery store – I dawdled a bit, grabbing cherries and bottled water and V-8 and Pacifico.  Outside there was heavy lightning and the streets were already awash.  So I took care when I started to go home, it seemed the rain was letting up a bit.  I went back along roads that didn’t usually flood too badly, but car accidents forced me to detour.

As I turned onto Grant, a large thoroughfare, I noticed the water was pretty high.  Cars were driving slowly and carefully.  I had to detour around some other cars, forcing me to go into deeper water and then, just past the intersection, I had to stop, and then my car stalled out.  Water had drenched the engine.

I sat there, water still rising, brown floodwaters passing around the car   Water and mud started coming in through the doors, filling the footwells.  I could feel the current shaking the car and I wondered if I’d get washed away.  I set the parking brake and rolled the windows down despite the rain, in case the electrical system shorted out, so I could escape if need be.  I stayed as calm as I could as I saw huge rubber garbage cans floating down the street turned river.  One fetched up against my car and left a big dent and a scrape.

I wondered what I should do.  Did this spell the end of everything?  My ability to get around and to work?  Might I be injured or killed?  I remembered the test pilots and their ability to just keep “working the problem” until they got results.  One thing at a time.

I decided to stay with the vehicle.  For one thing, the current was too swift to walk in.  I’ve heard of more than one person dying by being swept away and I didn’t want that to happen to me.  I waited, watching people on the sides of the road, seeing people drive by in the centerlane where it was shallower, wondering what I’d do next.  I let my partner know I was okay.  My cell phone was charged so that was no problem.

Finally, I saw a fire truck pull up, close by the car, and a fireman reached down.  He told me to take off my shoes so the water wouldn’t catch them and suck me into the current.  I grabbed my keys and was helped up into the truck, where they took me to higher ground by a bank, not far away.  I thanked them sincerely, still wondering what was going to happen next.

I stepped inside the bank and asked to use their restroom – the nice teller had been watching the whole thing.  I was still wondering if my car would ever start again.  I went back outside, checked in with my partner again.  Soon a policeman was waving me over.  “You with the silver car!  I need you over here now!”  I came.  They told me they were going to push the car to higher ground.  One Tucson police officer helped me walk across part of the street, then handed me off to his partner who took me the rest of the way so I could guard my vehicle.  I thanked them, too.

I called my partner again, and she helped me get ahold of my neighbor, who came in his truck to try to help me get started.  He used to be a tow truck driver.  Jumping didn’t help so we went and bought a new battery.  $144 later, the starter was making a louder noise but still no start.  His friend came and through one thing and another we eventually towed the car home once the water had gone down.

Now I’m trying to figure out if my car will ever run again.  I’m a bit numb at the moment, thinking of what I could have done differently, trying to reflect also on what I did right.  I’m researching what to do if your car has been in water.  One thing that was suggested is to remove the spark plugs and manually turn the engine to force water out of the cylinders.  I think I’ll be trying that next.  But with the money for the battery gone, it gets a little tougher, even if a small thing like spark plugs needs to be replaced.

So later I’ll try to get the water out of the engine.  Then if that doesn’t work I’ll ride with my neighbor’s wife since we work in the same place on a similar schedule.  I’ll be grateful for the fact that nobody is hurt and I’m back home, relatively dry, not fighting knee high floodwaters.  And I’ll keep working the problem.

 

By the way, if anyone wants to contribute to the “dry out Rohvannyn’s car fund” they can donate via paypal to roh@rohvannynshaw.com.

 

 

 

 

Experimental College

 

What do red panties, Wrigley’s gum wrappers, typewriters, and a fish pond all have in common? Find out in this novel.

Experimental College is a cheerful, odd, and often surprising story about David Price, a Blind engineering student going to the University of Washington in the late 70s during one very special summer.. While he navigates his classes and degree program, he also meets several quirky companions, and discovers a lot about his own passions, both academic and romantic.

This story is a mix of gender role and sexual exploration combined with ruminations about life support systems, closed ecosystems, and physics. It is both cerebral and emotional and touches on some important points of psychology and sociology. It’s also a fascinating journey as young Dave Price learns more about who he really is. The story covers issues about gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people in a sensitive, intriguing way, as it is also a snapshot of the world of the 1970s.

This is an excerpt from the rear jacket:

“Experimental College: My summer in Serendip” is a lighthearted comedy with tragic overtones, which asks some ominous questions. Aiming at your heart, it may unexpectedly grab at your crotch but hopes to offer something to your head.

I couldn’t have said it better myself. I enjoyed editing this story, and I think you’ll like reading it. The book is available at multiple outlets, $15.99 for print and $2.99 for EPUB, Mobipocket, or PDF.

https://www.fastpencil.com/products/PJNF3VZIGHWF

10 creative uses for a milk crate

The humble milk crate is a surprisingly awesome piece of engineering.  It’s small enough to be convenient, strong enough to hold heavy loads, robust enough to take a lot of punishment, and at the same time it’s cheap to make and buy.  There are four handles all around the top so it’s easy to carry.

Basically, a milk crate does everything a bucket does except hold water, everything a tote does only it stacks better, and it’s rigid enough to hold four gallons of something very easily.

Milk crates used to be available for free if you knew a grocer, but now Home Depot and other big box home improvement stores carry them for $8-10.  They come in colors like pink and green but of course my favorite is the classic black.  If you want a bargain, by the way, the odd colors cost less.  I bought eight of them for help in my move and I may get more.

 

With a milk crate, you can:

Store things and carry them, similar to a plastic tote.

Use it as a step stool if you’re careful.

Make a simple patio end table.

Use it as a foot stool in the house with the addition of a pillow.

Stack them in a number of ways for modular shelves or storage.

Sit on them if you are short a chair.

Make a kitty cave with a blanket and pillow.

Stack them in two rows, lay a board on top, and make a shelf.

Hold canned goods, gallons of water, tools, anything heavy.

 

Do you have any other more unusual uses for a milk crate?

Gay Doves

We were treated to an interesting sight today – two gay doves.  It all started with the first dove making mating displays.  He fanned his tail and wings, bobbed his head, and generally displayed all that he had to offer.  Soon another dove landed nearby and started making the same displays.

After a bit, the first dove who had been displaying got on top of the other dove – afterward there was much billing and cooing between the two.  Literally.  Then the second dove climbed on the first one.  They swapped positions back and forth for a while, all while exhibiting friendly, loving behavior to each other.

It wasn’t dominance behavior either because it was obviously consensual and unusual.  Maybe there’s a bit more going on inside their little bobble heads than I thought?  Either way, I thought that was pretty cool to see!  Besides, both doves were happy.

It seems to me that if two wild creatures in nature do something, that’s by definition natural…

Intelligence versus physical strength

For a long time I’ve had this semi-conscious thought that if you are intelligent or sensitive you cannot be strong, and if you are very strong you will have less time for intellectual pursuits. An article I read recently turned that upside down and I started looking at why I thought that way.

For me at least, the idea came from popular culture – but it also came from a source that might be a little unusual, ant that is role playing games. It started with the popularity of Dungeons and Dragons. I have a lot of fun with that game and others like it, however some of the central ideas deserve some consideration. with D&D, if you are a Fighter of whatever type, you often have a very high Strength score for obvious reasons. But if you are a Wizard or other magic user, your Intelligence and sometimes Wisdom scores will be high but you take penalties on Strength. The idea is to preserve game balance by making no one character good at everything.

This is great for game balance but not good for life. In reality, developing your body can also develop your mind and give you focus and clarity. Developing your mind can give you the mental strength and fortitude to grow physically strong. Winston Churchill started out as a sickly, intelligent and sensitive boy, who resolved to become a strong and athletic man. Though he grew a little portly in later years, he succeeded. He became a sought after athlete and then a soldier.

Going back to my fantasy roots, one author really understood the balance between strength and intelligence. Barbara Hambly, in her Darwoth books, showed that to become a Wizard, a master of mighty magic, you needed to not only have a great thirst for knowledge, but you also needed to be very physically strong and hardy. Her Wizard, Ingold Inglorian, was very good with the sword as well as the staff even though he was also mentally brilliant.

After this consideration, I think I’m going to be more careful of false dichotomies. Rather than being mutually exclusive, intelligence and physical strength enhance one another.

Notes: D&D may have gotten me to think that strength and intelligence are mutually exclusive, that you cannot be strong and highly intelligent at the same time, because of their idea of game balance. Far better to think in a Darwothian way and realize that strength enhances intelligence by stimulating the mind, and vice versa.

“The Art of Manliness,” a good read for anyone.

 

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I happen to possess a pair of x chromosomes, yet I am still an avid reader of the Art of Manliness by Brett McKay and other contributors.  It’s a really good read and the site is chock full of awesome tips, knowledge, motivation and philosophy.  I don’t show myself in the forums or contribute, but I happily soak up the knowledge and learn a whole lot every time I go there.

I’m interested in becoming stronger, more confident, more gentlewomanly, more straight in my dealings, and more independent.  I want to build my lean muscle mass, know what they are talking about at the lumber store, be able to patch drywall, and maintain my own car. And knowing about shaving and men’s fashions is useful in case I need to give someone a gift.  I also want to be prepared in case something happens to my little family, disaster or otherwise.  I respect people like Winston Churchill and Teddy Roosevelt.  So the Art of Manliness really is for me.

Here’s a sampling of the things you can learn there, whether you are male or female:

Home repair, fitness, vehicle maintenance, really great easy to follow guides on skills – everything from grooming to wilderness survival, excerpts of classic books and texts, cooking, hobbies, so much more.  They try to put together everything you need to be a complete man – nay, a complete human being.

What I like most about AOM is it sets out to teach you all those skills you might have learned from your grandpa – skills that are dying rapidly.  So I read, learn, and start to carry the torch forward.

If you are curious too, click here:

Art of Manliness Blog

 

I’ve had it up to here with junk!

Me and Neko
Until recently, this was organized for me.

Several times in my life, I’ve had to cut my belongings down to nearly nothing.  Although one might expect that it could turn me into a hoarder, it’s done the exact opposite. Though I like to be prepared for anything, I still also have a deep desire for a clean, well organized space.

But, I have a lot of hobbies and I really am good at acquiring things. So what is a natural pack rat to do?

This subject is fresh in my mind because I’m about to move into a new apartment that’s actually slightly smaller than the one I live in now. I grew up in a heavily cluttered home, and lived that way for a long time. It was partly because I never had enough shelves or cupboards, and partly because I’d use things and not put them back.

When I moved to my last apartment, I vowed not to do it again – and though I’ve done better, and my life still isn’t as cluttered, little bits of junk keep creeping in. I think the main problem is just not having the right kinds of storage space. So now I’ll start out with more shelves, bins to store things in, and also I’ll be doing some serious tossing of junk.

I want everything I own to have a home! I’m tired of stacking things. Someday I’d love to have some flat storage racks for my various papers and boards. I’ll start with a CD tower for my media. I want doors to close over my junk so I don’t have to look at it, too.

It’s been shown that a clean, uncluttered environment leads to mental peace and harmony. I can’t wait to try that out.