Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Mindless Mutterings

So yeah, it's spring according to the calendar and there are moments each day when it actually feels like spring. But the flowers all seem a bit late this year.

December was cold, 20s cold which is cold for Little Rhody, damn near shirt-sleeve weather up in the Dakotas, though I've only been there once and it was in June. I remember it as my captain and I were dispatched up to Minot AFB to assist a customer. 1989, about the same time as the protests in Tienanmen Square. (Great bravery from an unarmed populace results in no change whatsoever. Just wanted to note that. A lot of those protesters were murdered by their own government. Hey, just do what you're told right? Be a good little socialist and get back in line. Have recent events pissed me off? You betcha, but I digress...)

The rest of the winter was a bit colder than most of the winters I've experienced here on the coast. (Mind you, the wind is always blowing, so it always seems a bit raw in these parts from October to April.)

Oh, I have an aside, a rather rude aside so yeah, fire truck language alert. But Mr. Connolly describes something, though particular to a certain group of the perpetually aggrieved, really applies to most. Again...

LANGUAGE ALERT (if ye be faint o' heart just skip past this...)

We Scots will resort to bad language if provoked, just wanted y'all to know that.

Anyhoo, I took last Friday off. Now this Friday is my normal Friday off, last Thursday I was on my last legs mentally, I needed that three day weekend. So I reached out and grabbed it. (I may go ahead and take this coming Friday as well, but mum's the word, I haven't decided yet.)

Officially I swapped my off Friday. Officially. But the prospect of three weeks before I get another 3-day weekend seems a bit daunting. We shall see.

Monday comes around (the day I wrote this) and I'm no more rested than I was last Thursday. (But it was a fine weekend, the kind where I did nothing, nada, rien. So I had that going for me.)

But I think I have discovered that my fondest wish is to be retired. I still enjoy the work and the team I work with, it's just all of the corporate nonsense that is getting a bit tiresome. Admittedly the paycheck helps me choke down the corporate stuff. Barely.

That and the get up early and have to stay there for nine hours. Tiresome.

You know when it's time to retire? When you've run your vacation down to almost nothing left and it's not even summer yet. I'm not there, but damme, I seem to want to take vacation every bloody Friday.

What the daffodils look like on March 26th, 2018.
And what they looked like on March 24th, 2016.
And what did they look like last year? I dinna have a clue, I blogged about something else last year, in fact Juvat was talking about his trip to Scotland, castles and such. Fancy that.

I need to get to bed earlier I think. I mean when the feline staff start inventing new and interesting ways to wake me up in the morning, perhaps I am just not getting enough rest. Anya decided that sitting on my back and whipping her tail into my face was effective, and it was. I suppose it's better than being "paw poked," the first couple of times are like warning shots, after a couple of attempts, you get a bit more claw each time. Sasha found the whole evolution very amusing.

I did not.

Back tomorrow, hopefully with more sleep.



  1. Of course I watched the video, and as a consequence I read the rest of the post in an over the top Scottish (Scots?) accent.
    Hopefully I won't have to actually talk to a human being until the accent ebbs.

    The largest part of my retiring was because I couldn't tolerate the increasing stupidity at work, but, another part of retiring a bit early was because my Dad died of heart problems before he got a chance to retire.

    I don't have his heart problems, and I have a reasonable expectation for a significantly longer life than he had, but I never saw any tombstones that said the person below the stone wished they had worked longer.

    It is complicated, and you know when it is time to say goodbye to work.

    A thought provoking post.

    1. Thanks John. When I retired from the Air Force we lived with my parents for a couple of months while I did the job search. My Dad decided that he was now retired as well. So he had a few years to enjoy himself before he died.

      Making the decision to call it a day is complicated.

  2. After retiring there were no problems adjusting to a new routine, it wasn't until the early afternoon that I noticed what time it was most days. Then the parents occupied a great deal of time. Now it's back to the post-work schedule. The first time you don't have to drive into work when it snows will cheer you up considerably. Course..... don't have any feline alarm-clocks either........(heh-heh).

    1. On weekends I get up early, feed the felines, then back to bed.

      'Tis the life of Riley.

  3. As I have mentioned earlier, I highly advise against an accessible high shelf/headboard above the bed. My feline three ship has taken to practicing for the 2020 Olympic High Dive event. They are quite talented. Why, Schmedly can perform a 3 and a half gainer and land right on my gut with nary a sound. Well...on her part anyway.

    Retirement.....Now there's something that's been spinning my internal CPU to maximum capacity of late. The corporate stupidity/personal patience ratio is approaching infinity. Fortunately, I've got someone in place to hand over the reins to. That helps quite a bit. When to send her solo is the next decision. What to do after that? Now THERE'S a question!

    1. Your feline staff is much younger than mine, still and all we do avoid giving them an accessible platform to do their "Hun in the sun" routine.

      What to do after retirement? Finish the book, or if that has been finished, start another. I suppose "publish the book" needs to be part of the equation. I ain't got that all worked out yet.

    2. Juvat, you are lucky. Back when I had a pack of cats, the largest, heaviest and clutziest one decided that a certain portion of Daddy's anatomy was the softest and therefore best to use as a landing pad. The bald-headed twins did not enjoy 20lbs of feline, concentrated into a 2-paw wide area, smashing into them every morning.

      Otherwise, Teddy was a damned fine cat. I just don't miss that part of cat ownership. Or waking up them spelling their names with hairballs, or to the warning klaxon thereof (usually 6 inches from my head)(hwack-hwack-Hwack - sure to raise me from a dead sleep to action stations in 0.0001 seconds.) Or the litter box.

      So what did I do, I got a 120lb rottie that likes to nut-punch me in her sleep.


    3. Ah, the sacrifices we make...

    4. Andrew, you are always a fun read. Got me to chuckling again. Thanks.

    5. He is indeed. I'm wondering...

  4. Any chance your employer offers part time?

    1. Well they do, it's something I've considered, however, it might screw up my pension check. I need to do that math.

  5. Sounds like you are close to that "show up, do your thing, screw off if you feel like it and not give a poop about management or any other thing that generally makes work miserable...arrive late, leave early and let the chips fall where they may" in other words, retire, but don't let anyone know.

    1. Hahaha! Not quite there yet, but close, awfully close!

      I feel better knowing the symptoms of "I need to retire." Thanks Joe!

  6. Supposedly, Pennsylvania authorities have issued a warrant for that damned groundhog for screwing up the weather prediction. (funny how the rodent has a better track record than gubmint scientists, isn't it?)


    On a darker note, I have been trying to avoid shouting at stupid people lately, considering that one ex-supreme court judge says it is time to repeal the 2nd Amendment. Thanks, Stevens. Glad you proved that you knew nothing about the Constitution or the spirit in which it was written. (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/retired-supreme-court-justice-john-paul-stevens-calls-for-repeal-of-second-amendment/) I swear, some people's kids. Friggin idiots. I wish they would get off our lawn.

    1. Heh, groundhogs...

      As to Stevens, "Foxtrot Hotel." I'm betting you can decode that.

    2. As to Stevens, FOAD is the nicest thing I can think of. Then again, FOAD is something most of the useful idiots need to do.

    3. As always, you cut to the heart of the matter Andrew!

  7. "As to Stevens,...". Yeah. American citizen now actively campaigning for the repeal of their God given rights. These people keep pushing, they are going to find out. Part of me says "Let's dance, MFer's", part of me scared the dance will actually start.

    On a light note, the blood of the Scotsman runs in my veins. Billy Connolly? Oh my, yes! Here, with Michael Caine--


    --and on air travel---("... they'll think there was a river here!)--


    1. Wow. I sure had fun typing that.

      citizen = citizens
      part of me scared = part of me is scared
      On a light note = on a lighter note.

    2. AS to the dance...

      "Say when." sayeth Doc Holliday.

    3. We don't take points off for typos RHT447.

      Scary thing, I didn't notice the typos, we're on the same wavelength I believe.

    4. Yes, I, also, didn't notice the typos ( and I think of myself as an editor ) until reading his confession.

      As to the likelihood of the second American Civil War ( civil wars are never civil ), I think it is coming and that is when China and/or Russia will jump us. As to when it will happen. Things always take longer than I think they will, but I put the timeframe at five to seven years.

      Thanks for the post.
      Paul L. Quandt

    5. Here's hoping you're wrong.

      One thing the young don't understand, revolutions eat their young.

    6. Oh, I hope I'm wrong too, but I have an unfortunate habit of being right on these sorts of things.

      Roger that on your second statement.


    7. Thanks for the pass on the typos. Spotting them is an ingrained reflex for me. I may have mentioned before that I was a sole proprietor retail gun dealer (aka FFL) in Kalifornia for near 20 years. I loved the work, but the hardest part was proof reading the dossier of .gov and .ca forms and paperwork generated by each transaction. It all had to be spot on come the next .gov inspection. It was, and I passed.

      The young don't understand. Indeed. Here is my two cents.

      One of the things that children most want from their parents is vindication (as they should). Some might call it rite of passage. Dr. Spock was instrumental in destroying all that. Everyone gets a trophy. There are no winners, and just as crippling, there are no losers. We have a current generation of SJW's that cannot tolerate adversity in any form. Safe spaces. Right.

      Judging from the reactions I saw on election night, I believe that in the hearts and minds of the left, a Clinton victory was going to provide vindication for every SJW and all the BS they have ever been fed.

      Oops. Their heads have been exploding ever since. Hell hath no fury.... . They do not understand. They think they will be able to go home at the end, and the lights will come on, and their cell phones will connect, and Starbucks will still be open. The dance doesn't worry me so much. It's what comes after that scares me.

      And what Paul said. Our enemies are licking their chops.

    8. Paul - I know, it's easy to be a pessimist these days.

    9. RHT447 - Sore losers, the lot of 'em. Never learned how to compete, never learned how to win or lose.

      Yeah, they need to be careful what they wish for, they have no idea!

  8. I never actually formally retired.
    Just got fed up with co-worker antics and gave my supervisor notice I was leaving, with GS’s knowledge, of course.
    The supe saved face by telling corporate I was retiring.
    Corporate ate it up and threw a retirement dinner.
    Go figure.
    I might still.... no, forget that

  9. You're a braver man than I Gunga Din.

    1. But is it brave if you don't know any better?


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