Date Night!

Harvey and I did Painting with a Twist tonight!

What it was supposed to look like is on the wall.  We went our own way.

We used phosphorescent paint so they can glow in the dark under black light.

We're Early

We, with the generous assistance of Marv, have done the main portion of putting our Halloween decorations out.

Normally we wait until October first, but this year that falls on a week day and we're impatient!

Every year it's a little different, and we enjoy doing it.

Phone Tag

Spent the morning on the phone talking to, almost, every department of Florida DCF and Medicaid finding out why they declined to fill The Boy's prescription to his semaglutide.

Four bots and two live people finally got us to...

The primary care provider didn't have the most recent set of blood work because, for some reason, Quest Diagnostics only sent it to his psychiatrist.

I *THINK* I got it sorted out and everyone pointed at the information they need.

Hot buns crossed.

I now await a call from Medicare, 15 minutes late at time of posting, to get that activated. 

...By Then The Entire Glee Club Had Died

Early bird, worm, and all that.

Called the Social Security Administration to set up an appointment to get The Boy enrolled in Medicare promptly at 0800 EDT.

When I told the robot what I wanted, it (female voice) told me the phone number for Medicare and stopped doing anything but repeating that number. 

Call Medicare and their robot, male voice this time, keeps asking me for The Boy's Medicare number.  It, helpfully, informs me that I can find this number on the red-white-and-blue Medicare card I don't have because The Boy is not yet enrolled.

After doing this loop for a bit, Live Person® gets on the line and says I should call SSA.

DEEP MEANINGFUL SIGH

Call SSA with the same number as before and tell the fembot the exact same thing as before, but (somehow) this time it works and I get Live Person®!

She asks questions, I answer them.  She gets the account information up and informs me that I cannot do anything because everything is set up for Harvey to administer.

Luckily, she's right there to step in!

They ask her a barrage of questions and she answers.

NOW I can talk to them about the account and getting him signed up.

Live Person® tells me he's not enrolled and isn't automatically enrolled because he's on SSI instead of SSDI.  Well, he was supposed to be...

Now I have a phone appointment for tomorrow afternoon to set things up correctly. 

Sealed For Your Protection

This two-factor authentication bullshit is bullshit.

We're trying to get The Boy's Medicare started.  He's been on SSI well past the requisite period.

"Just log in!" everyone says.

How?

Apparently we already had a login.gov account made for him, but we're damned if we can figure out the authentication app for it so the code they're sending as the second factor is disappearing into the aether.

We don't remember setting up any authentication apps.  For all I know you have to have your app downloaded and ready to go and almost anything will convince the setup daemon you're good to go... and it sends the code to the account you didn't realize you'd specified and didn't have ready because they don't really explain the process when they tell you all you need is their name, SSN, place of birth and Medicaid number to get it all done.

They cheerfully explain that you can delete the account and start over if you've lost access to the authentication app.

We might just have to do that.

I'm going to try calling the phone number to make an appointment and see if we can't get this done in person.  Joy!

That'll be another fight with Harvey.  I don't know everything and the information is not kept so that I can find or use it.

Went Down Fighting!

The Lovely Harvey got off one shot before she became a casualty.

But she got 'im!

This was her first time out with her Sgt Barnes clone and she only had the very tip of the bottom of the butt in her shoulder.

To say that it smarted a bit GROSSLY understated the eye-watering pain she experienced and she was done shooting today.

I zeroed my Spitfire AR on Dottie.  I'm out of practice, I was hitting an 8" circle at 100 yards when I confirmed my zero.  I was a little distracted by Harvey hurting her shoulder, but that shouldn't have mattered this much.

Not sure I'm completely OK with the reticle on the Spitfire.  The center dot is VERY small and hard to see against pretty much anything.  I forgot to check to see if was better in red than green.

New AC For The Inlaws

First off, FUCK YOU Joe Biden and your AIM act!

Fuck all you congress creatures who suck greenie cock.

A $3,000 compressor and air handler is now $8,700 because mixing R32 with something else is better for the environment or something.

Better for some chemical company's bottom line.

It's a good thing I have good credit, because we're financing this shit.

Should even be zero cost out of MY pocket because the inlaws are going to be making the payments.

Their old system still had R22 in it, and it wasn't new when we got their place in 2019. 

Brave In The Attempt

The Boy failed to advance to the state level at Special Olympics bowling.

We kind of expected this.

His scores were the highest he'd ever gotten in practice, and that moved him up a bracket where his scores were just above the entry level.

There's always next year! 

 

Father's Day

 

Harvey and The Boy found a place that made custom packaging for Hot Wheels® cars with a picture of me and him and a personalized message on the back!

He had her order one, the '69 Chevelle wagon.

A few days later, the '05 GTO showed up.

"Odd, but cool," she thought.

A couple days after that, she gets an email apologizing for how long it took them to get the order to us.

Talk about under-promise and over-deliver!

I'm pleased as punch with these little cars.

For The Fallen

 

 

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.


Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.


They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.


They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.


They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.


But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;


As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

-- Laurence Binyon

Today is not about sales. It is not about summer starting. It is not about grandma.

It's is about those who served and have passed beyond the veil.

I want them all back.

To:

Bernie Canniff (Korea, in a car club together).

Carol LeFon aka Neptunus Lex (patiently explained both real world and flight sim military aviation to this tanker).

Davy McGuire (COB USS Whale, originally a friend of my Dad's, later me).

Fred Gabow (we served together, his wife hired someone to murder him).

Jerry Pournelle (you do read, don't you? Willing to be wrong and listened to my correction!).

Kevin O'Brian aka Hognose (our beloved Weaponsman).

Paul Harrell (he taught me a couple things about guns and how to reply to dicks).

Rabbi (Uncle Ben, another friend of Dad who got me a ride in an F-14A).

 

Rich (brother of my Father in law).

Robert (uncle by marriage to Mom's sister).

Standing Bear aka William Dawkins (WW2 and Korea, who taught me gaming).

The world is better that you were in it and worse that you have left.

Offended For Them Because They Won't Be Offended For Themselves

Something I accidentally hit while looking for other stuff about The Sioux.

American Indians volunteer for the military in fairly high numbers compared to their population.

They've done so since the beginning of the nation, as a matter of fact.

Strange they're fine with joining forces with the people who genocided them into non-existence...  Except for that whole thing that there are actually more Indians now than when Columbus landed.

The thing I keep hitting, over and over, is most Native Americans are of the philosophy of, "we fought, we lost, we got over it and moved on," and it's a small minority who keep stirring shit back up.

Turns out race baiting isn't just for African American grifters!

Grifting comes in all colors!

Plus you never hear about the people who just shrugged and joined American society and live productive, happy, lives.  Happy productive people don't make the news or garner any graft.  You need angry, unhappy, people for that.

Every race can produce some of those. 

Turns out that most American Indians aren't sitting around feeling either offended or sorry for themselves.

While they might be as proud of being Cheyenne as I am of being Scots-Italian, it's not their primary allegiance.

PS: My Blackfoot wife is not pinin' for The Rez; she's an example of a happy, productive, citizen. 

Hitting The Wall

Actually, hitting the paper.

Harvey has hit the proverbial wall in becoming a better pistol shot.

She is also frustrated by me being so much better than her in a casually effortless way.

I don't even think I'm that good, I'm OK.

And it took many long years to get to it.

She was very depressed and down on herself so I said, "let's sit here on the stools behind the range on the other side of the glass."

We sat for a while watching the other people shoot and I say, "you're already better than half the people here."

And she is.

She's getting all her shots on paper.  Nearly all of them in the -1 ring of a 75% sized IDPA target at 7 yards.

With an epic flinch while she jerks the trigger no less!

She tends to string vertically with a low bias.

We're working on it.  But it doesn't help that she cannot feel her pinkie on her right hand and often cannot feel her ring finger thanks to something pinching in her right elbow.

Her eyes/glasses combination isn't helping.  Our last trip to the eye doctor did NOT get us glasses we're happy with at all. 

Easy Fix

The Father In Law's tailgate refused to open today.

Troubleshooting was complicated by a tonneau cover.

We could tell that the passenger side was unlatching, but the driver's wasn't.

Happily we figured out how to get past the cover and get it out the way without breaking anything.

Four screws to get the latch plate off and get at the guts.

What had failed was the little plastic retainer that holds the latch-rod to the latch, allowing said rod to fall off and not be actuated by the latch.

Marv had donated a spare latch back when he had the same model truck, so we swiped a retainer from that latch to replace the broken one and all is now well.

Half the time working with The FiL's truck I come back in cussing and Harvey was very confused that I was back in the house ten minutes after starting the project and all done without even screaming.

I think you can buy the little plastic retainers at AutoZone, but I've tasked Bubba to do it.

That Was A Near Thing

The Boy has a stuffed animal, Mr Sloth.

Mr Sloth is his constant companion and he helps keep The Boy calm.

The special needs kids group did a sunset cruise to see the dolphins...

Mr Sloth went overboard while The Boy was helping him dance to the music they were piping in.

Happily, "SLOTH OVERBOARD!" is a valid cry to the crew of the boat (who had warned people that they would NOT be turning back for lost glasses or hats).

Mr Sloth was recovered, soaked through and smelling of The Sea®.

What he required is what we call a "Spa Day."

A spa day could be as simple as tossing him in the washer and treating him like laundry.

Often it means gutting him and replacing his stuffing.

Occasionally, we replace him with a different Mr Sloth.  This time he's been replaced with a spare from the attic.

If The Boy is aware we're doing this, he isn't letting on.

They were originally available from Wal Mart, and we bought several.  We bought all we could find one year.  We still have a few.

You can find them on ebay.  LINK TO AN EXAMPLE.

But Marinara Is Simple

I guess if your grand parents never taught you to cook, then you have to resort to cans...

Even resorting to cans, I'm not using any of the above choices.  Cooking tomatoes down to sauce is a pain, so using a can of tomato sauce is acceptable.

But marinara is essentially just tomato sauce with some spices tossed in, for fuck's sake.

Not that I make marinara very often.  I make a variation of Bolognese sauce with Italian sausage; just like great-grandma taught us!

We never used it to make Ragu Bolognese though, it was just spaghetti sauce to us.

Slow Your Roll

Harvey found me sloth themed dice!

They're absolutely the cutest!

Killed By Death

The men in my family don't have a consistent problem that leads to their demise.

Grampa on Mom's side was a diabetic who didn't bother changing what he ate all that much and a one-two blow of dementia and heart problems associated with that neglect got him.  At 76 years old.

Great Grampa on Dad's side had his brain just quit.  85 years old.

Grampa on Dad's side got done in by undetected prostate cancer that had metastasized into his bones and further.  77 years old.

Dad is trucking along at 84 years old and nobody has told me about any health scares he's had.  We don't talk.

Nobody really did the diet and exercise bit, but all of them remained active.  Mom's dad probably should have watched what he ate though.

My dad's sister tells me that high cholesterol is a thing in the family and nothing really gets it under control and the women in the family have been making it to their 90's regular like.

Genes

The Boy's psychiatrist ordered a round of genetic testing for him.

She did a bad job of explaining why, but we have the results in and...

It was a allele compatibility test with certain drugs and it actually explains a lot of observed things.

What it showed is that some drugs don't work like they're supposed to work with certain genetic markers.  Some as bad as having the opposite effect as expected.

This is particularly true of sedatives and The Boy.

The good news is that it also identifies drugs that should work correctly with his genetic markers.

It's kind of neat we're learning enough about this stuff to be able to tailor a cocktail just for one person. 

Triumphant Return

The Lovely Harvey has overcome her fear of damaging her robo-shoulder and taken Kevina to the range! 

Considering she has not had this carbine to the range in more than a decade...  Not too bad a group.

I got the M1956A2 zeroed with the new 5x scope too!

 

Gotta say, that Faxon barrel is pretty sweet.

Purses

Women conceal carry too!

Many of them carry off body because women's clothing lacks pockets and often hugs curves that prevent effective concealment.

You could find clothes that have pockets and don't accentuate your bod, but, sometimes, MAN you feel like a WOMAN! 

That means purses.

Harvey has been an enthusiastic user of Gun Tote'n Mamas' wares since we discovered them.

Her current bag is wearing out because she uses it.

SEO doesn't take you to GTM's web page, it takes you to Hiding Hilda.  Hiding Hilda doesn't do a good job of showing the customer who will actually use the purse to carry a firearm what firearms fit and how it will carry....

That led us to check the locals stores.

Carry purses are thin on the ground at the gun shops, and it's important to be able to touch and feel the items to see if they're gonna work.

But we did find two she liked at Shooter's World on Fletcher in Tampa.