There has been a bit of both good and bad news in my corner of the universe recently. First, the bad.
The worthless sack of shit contractor-wannabe put me off for over three weeks before finally refusing to come fix the roof. In his final correspondence, he pointed out the fact that it hadn’t leaked for months, the lack of a guarantee, and the name of his lawyer. Now, I have to call someone else out, or climb up there myself and tar the hell out of the boot and flashing around the chimney, while hoping for the best.
So, I strongly discourage anyone from hiring Danny Gautier from Vass, North Carolina, to do anything. Unless you want shitty workmanship, the debris left for you to deal with, and service after the sale that lasts for a picosecond after he cashes your check.
In other news, my truck died on me. It won’t start, although it spins over fine. Since it is a diesel, I’m thinking that the problem is probably related to fuel delivery. When I turn the ignition on, all the gauges come to life, but no warning lights or glow plug indicator light up. If it were winter, I would suspect the glow plugs or circuit, despite having replaced the plugs last year. I think it is a fuse or relay, but a cursory check found nothing. One more thing to demand my oh-so-abundant free time.
On the good news side, I am now sharing my home with a pretty, twenty-something redhead of the female persuasion. She has already proven herself valuable to the remodel effort. However, there is even bad news on that front. Since she happens to be my niece, I cannot entertain the possibility of taking advantage of her female charms.
The remodel continues to progress slowly. I was able to remove most of the old vinyl tile from the kitchen floor last weekend. Unless the last twenty or so remaining tiles are hiding some major defect, one section of plywood will repair the entire kitchen floor problem. No subfloor or structural issues have made an appearance. ~knock on wood~
I am on vacation this Friday, which means that I will have the weekend off as well. With some luck, and
slave-driving gentle encouragement directed towards Dear Niece, much should be accomplished.
In other good news, I was able to meet up with my shooting buddy and his son for a couple hours of shooty goodness last Saturday. I shot roughly a hundred of my remaining 454 reloads that contain old powder of questionable quality. Instead of the usual one squib per cylinder, I only experienced one total. Power varied, as expected, but at least some of the powder ignited on the remainder of the rounds. I found myself flinching, and not concentrating on the front sight at first. Consequently, bullet impacts were all over the paper. On the paper, but all over it. Towards the end, there was the hint of a grouping. I really need more trigger time.