Coffee heat rising

Dispatches from Hell

Hotter Than the Hubs!

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It’s pouring rain, hot and sticky outside…and some poor wretch is out there weedwhacking a neighbor’s lawn! 

Yow! Talk about jobs you’re glad you don’t have….

At a little past 7:00, Ruby and I are back from the morning circumnavigation, just in time.

Despite the gray skies and now steady rain, our honored Weather Service tells us to expect “extreme heat” this afternoon. Temps are supposed to get up to 110 today, 114 on Thursday, and 116(!!!) on Friday.

That’s more than my air-conditioning system can handle. And far more than M’hijito’s aged system will beat back. He may have to come here or over to his dad’s place to live through the afternoons. And probably to sleep at night.

What an awful place. WHY do we live here?

Yeah: because our parents dragged us here, right?

California. Make that Northern California. That’s where I came from. And that’s where I belong!

Day Is (Barely!!!) Dawning….

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Yep. Barely dawn and all Hell is already breaking loose. Jeez!  WHY does all the sh!t happen at once?

Latest antic: I go to flush the toilet and the thing goes SSSWWWWSHHHHHHHHHHHH and sprays water all over the goddam bathroom!

Sheee-ut!  and oh well: now all the fixtures and counters are nice and clean in there.

Meanwhile, I’ve gotta get someone over here to fix Harvey the Hayward Pool Cleaner, so thoughtfully trashed by yesterday’s workman.

This means, presumably, I have to approach some other pool company, since I suspect that “trashing” was a deliberate act. Because…it appears the pool dude stole several lengths of hose.

Dammit!!!!!!! 

Now I’ll have to call a bunch of neighbors to find out who they’re hiring, and then call around and call around and call around until I find someone to come fix this stuff.

*********

Grrr grrr grrrrrrrrrrrrr…..

Okay, I capitulated and called my regular pool company. Told them “someone” (har har) made off with several lengths of pool hose…and blah blah blah.

They’re supposedly gonna send someone over to try to fix that. Which means I get to sit here and sit here and sit here and sit here until the guy shows up. If he ever does. Then try to explain what’s happened….and good luck with that.

Dammmit!!!!!!!!!

I’m beginning to understand why my neighbor drained her pool several years ago and leaves it dry.

There surely is something to be said for that.

Problem is, when  you go to sell the house after leaving a pool empty for Gawd only knows how long, you’re looking at a WAD of EXPENSIVE repair bills.

Plus your back yard is graced by an ugly hole in the ground.

Better to keep the thing up from day to day, than to have hundreds or thousands in bills just as you’re ready to move out.

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Ugh!! This deluge of crapola is beginning to make the prospect of moving into a old-folkerie like the Beatitudes almost look good. At least there, someone else has to ride herd on the repairs.

But…sheee-ut.  Just look at the joys promised by that link. Ain’t that just ducky?  You, too, can shed your household headaches by locking yourself up in a prison for old duffers.

You get to shed your cash, too. Those places grab every penny you’ve got in exchange for shepherding you into the next world. Such was the case with my father. Seriously: his old-folkerie glommed virtually all of his life savings. AND….he made a good living as a sea captain, plus he was one of the great tightwads of the Western World. So he had a sh!tload of money for them to snatch away from him.

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Dayum! But I’m MAD AS A CAT over that stolen pool equipment.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I guess if I’m gonna drain the damn pool, I’ll need to have some sort of platform built over it.

The next-door neighbor hasn’t done that. She just has an empty hole in the ground back there. Looks like HELL, and for my taste renders the back porch/yard essentially unusable.

You can bet she hasn’t covered it with a platform because any such thing will cost a goddam arm and a leg.  So I should spend hundreds or more likely thousands of dollars to cover the hole in ground with a wooden deck?

goddammit i don’t wanna do that.

Helle’s belles. Maybe I’d do better to jury-rig repairs to the dam thing now, then put the house on the market, sell up, and move into the horrifying Beatitudes.

But..to coin a phrase:

goddammit i don’t wanna do that.

I just LOATHE congregate living. And I do NOT want to live in a dormitory for old buzzards.

GAAAAAAAHHH!  STOP THE WORLD! I WANNA GET OFF!!!!!

WTF?????????

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How in the name of GOD do these clowns get their jobs????? And when a company hires some jerk, do they NEVER test them to see if the jerk knows what he’s doing???????

ARRRGHHHHH!

So….I go out to the pool and start to mess with the pump equipment, by way of cleaning out the filter’s strainer — which by now should be jammed with leaves and stuff, by now, right? Because Pool Dude was here several days ago.

And yeah, no question about it: I SHOULD have gone out there two or three days ago and checked the equipment. But no. I didn’t Because I was too damn lazy. And because, after all, that’s what I pay THEM to do, right?

Arrrghhhh! You’d think by now I’d know better, eh?

So I wander past the pump this afternoon and notice…uhhhh….waitaminit.

The pump’s strainer basket is sitting on the step stool.

Huh?

It’s not inside the pump, where it’s supposed to be. Some moron has taken it out of the pump and LEFT IT SITTING OUT. So all the leaves and crap can get sucked inside the equipment!

Ohhhh F****ck!

Shut everything down.

Take everything apart.

Clean everything out.

Swear, cuss, and swear some more.

Put the parts back together.

Seal the unit back up.

Pray to the Swimming Pool Gods…

Turn the unit back on…

SHHHHHHWWWWWWIIIIIIIIISHHH…..

A miracle!

Looks like the damn thing is working. And there’s even a chance it’s working right.

Well…Helle’s belles. We’ll know along about this time tomorrow afternoon if it actually IS running right. Because by this time tomorrow we’ll have a pool guy out here, to the tune of a pretty penny.

We can pretty much bet that the thing is busted or, at best, cattywampus.. Can’t hurt to hope, though.

But….in fact…. No. It looks like Harvey is probably busted. He’s just going around and around in little circles. That means tomorrow I’ll have to take him to the pool store…which will be quite the trick without a car!

Waitaminit…. Let’s take that back: It looks like Harvey is working but his hose has been shortened to the point where he can’t travel all the way across the bottom of the pool, shallow end to deep end and back. Hence: the elegant circles… Lo! the Explanation: Somebody stole several lengths of pool hose! Then disguised the theft by reconnecting the remaining hose to Harvey.

Goddammit! 

WHY DOES EVERY MORON ON THE PLANET HAVE TO GET IN FRONT OF ME?????????

If  they’re a moron, they’re guaranteed to come my way!

Man! Am I ever sick of STUPID STUFF. 

Lovely Morning from Hell

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Yuch!!!!!  It’s a Rasty Nasty morning out there, come 7:00-ish. “Rasty Nasty” is what my father used to call Ras Tanura, the oil camp where we lived by the shore of the (hot! sticky!!) Persian Gulf while he worked as a harbor pilot out there.

One place where you do not want to spend any of your lifetime is Saudi Arabia. What a horrible place!

Ohh well…. The dawg and I are back in the house, having staggered down the west side of the park and back through the slab of the neighborhood that I like to call Lower Richistan. Made it back inside without passing out…that’s something, anyway.

By the time the Human finishes cooling off in the air conditioning, M’jito’s babysitters will be here. He’s hired these women to keep watch on me…and you can see the vast Nuisance Potential entailed in that. If you’re a person who’s accustomed to doing what you want, when you want, the LAST thing you want or need is people underfoot all day. Especially not strangers.

So this is going to convert life at home into misery at home. And I’ll tellya: I ain’t a-lookin’ forward to it.

Oh, well. At least Ruby and I managed to steal a few minutes of pleasurable meandering. Now we’re back home, waiting for the nuisances to show up.

Dayum!

Right now, what I most want is an hour of peace and quiet in the silence of my own home, with only a dawg to keep me company. If pests want to show up in an hour or two, that’s fine. But NOT NOW, dammit!!

Anyway, we’ll have three fans blowing — one in the kitchen and two in the family room — which at least should help to cool the poor creatures down. It is SO hot and SO humid out there that it takes you a good half-hour to cool down, even with the AC set at 80 and all the fans blasting.

This humidity is alien stuff here in Arizona, where the air is usually dry and crisp — heat or no heat. Hot and humid was indeed the weather we “enjoyed” in unlovely Saudi Arabia.

I hate this place. Ohhhhhh how I wanna goooo home!

And “home” is San Francisco!

…and we did this…WHY????

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Chortle!  Today’s Moment of Stupidity seems to take the proverbial cake.

What on EARTH possessed me? 

Come about 1:40 in the afternoon, I took it into my feeble little mind that nothing would do but what I should take a little walk around the neighborhood.

Yeah. That’s the neighborhood where the back porch thermometer just now registers 115º in the shade. Don’t ask what that translates to when you’re out in the direct sun!

Okay…so, bein’ stupid as a post, we don’t ask that key question, but just pull on a shady hat and trundle on off down the sidewalk.

Extraordinarily bad idea. Got about a block before I smartened up, turned around, and came back to the house. Made it before we fainted and plopped face-down on the sidewalk….

Holeeee maquerel! It’s almost hot out there!

Welp...tomorrow’s exercise will have to occur at dawn. Again. And probably (again!) without our furry friend’s company. If the heat is still this fierce, outdoors will be no place for Ruby the Corgi.

What a gawdawful place!  WHY did my parents drag me here, lo! these many years ago?  

I should have headed back to Northern California on my own, the minute I graduated from the University of Arizona with the low-rent B.A. This was not the place for me to have stayed put!

Summertime, and the livin’ is…EGAD!

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7:05 in the evening and, as we scribble, the thermometer in the shade of the back porch reads A HUNDRED AND TEN DEGREES!

Egad! CAN you imagine?

It’s hard even for me to imagine…and I’m livin’ in it.

What an awful place. 

Wunderground tells us it’s actually 112 degrees out there. Supposed to chill down to a crisp 104 by midnight.

This is one of many factors that make me want to move back to San Francisco. And believe me: if I could afford it, I sure would!