To continue from yesterday, two years ago, I became the Troop Scouter for our Group's Troop. Other than the one returning Scouter and the former Troop Scouter who remained as an Advisor, we were all new to the Troop, some new to Scouting.
There were two younger lads who came up with us from Pack, both terrific Scouters, who had a grasp of the pulse of the Scouts. They went through the Scouting movement as youth and then returned to be fellow mentors and guides to these youngsters.
Two other Scouters I worked with previously, one only in Colony, the other through Colony and Pack on and off. Now both were with Troop. There was one Scouter, completely new to the Scouting movement, but he apparently had worked with youth in other organisations.
In total, we had eight Scouters, including myself. By the end of the active Scouting year, we would add another Scouter, whom I recruited. However, due to commitments to other facets of some of the Scouters' lives, and in some cases some Scouters (lack of) commitment to Scouting in general, we would effectively have four to six Scouter at most meetings and events, often closer to the lower end of that figure or even lower. Still, a healthy enough ratio, as we had a mere dozen odd active Scouts.
We were involved in several community events and carried out several weekend activities ranging from one international camp, to various hikes, to multiple training sessions in outdoor skills (aka woodcraft, bushcraft, and scoutcraft), culminating in a weekend camp with canoe instruction. This, in addition to our regular meetings were events, activities, camps, plus meetings themselves that included refurbishing a soapbox cart, building bridges from popsicle sticks, knots, more scoutcraft, fundraising and much, much more.
It was a pretty good year. Most of these guys (the Troop in this case was all boys) had been together since Colony, through Pack, and now together in Troop. When the boy and I joined the Group in Colony, there were about thirty-three Beaver Scouts in the various years of the program. In Pack, it turned to about two dozen, and finally in Troop about half that.
When the boy and I moved from Colony to Pack, there were twenty-one or twenty-two fellow Wolf Cubs who he had known in Colony in that first year. In the second year, there were eighteen or nineteen from the old Colony. In our third and final year with Pack, there was eighteen or nineteen again. This with youth at different stages of the program. To me it is a testament to the quality of programming. These figures belie the fact that of the original thirty-three Beavers we were together with, that actually there were more than two dozen who came to Pack for varying lengths of time, if not for a full three years.
When those remaining veterans of Pack aged out, the numbers did change. This is largely due to that by the time kids reach grade six their schedules become very full and decisions need to be made, sometimes by the parents solely, sometimes in consultation with their kids. So, the first year with Troop, there were, in addition to the boy as above, eight or nine other kids that had come up all the way from Colony through Pack to the Troop. There were also two who had been with them in Pack and were now in Troop together as well.
The second year with Troop, last year, we started with eight who began as Beavers together and two more who were Cubs together, in addition to two who had joined with this crew in their first year in Troop.
By the time last year's active Scouting year ended there were five, plus the boy making six, Beavers who moved up from the same year in Colony all through to the second year of Troop. There were also one from a different year of the Colony program, and two who joined them during their time in Pack and two from the previous year in Troop. A total of eleven youth ending last year.
I know these numbers may be confusing and not mean much to you. However, looking at raw figures for retention and youth leaving and returning to Scouting at various times, up until the first year in Troop, drop-off happened in thirds from the original cohort. Even more plainly, the boy was in a group of fourteen in the same year of Colony programming and concluded the first year of Troop with a total of six "Originals" (more than a third from his year of entry in to Scouts) and picked up a few others along the way. To me, these are good figures, others may not agree. To that I say: bite me!
The second year ended with six Originals as well, with an exchange of one slot. However, those numbers do not tell the whole truth. By the new calendar year, several Scouts were not coming to meetings regularly, as in very infrequently to hardly at all. By the spring, even the boy was picking and choosing which meetings and events to attend, and we both had started courting another Troop that we actually joined by the beginning of May of this year. The boy split his time between the two Troops, while I was only a member of the new Troop.
In the end, from what I can gather and determine, for this current Scouting year in my old Troop, none of the previous Scouters have returned to the Troop. However, one excellent Scouter, whom I greatly respect, is apparently heading up the Troop. Of all the Scouts from last year? Only one has returned; he joined the Scouting movement as a Scout and now is in his third year of the program. There are two Cub Scouts that have moved up from Pack, one of which I know and is an excellent member of the Scouting movement, the other I do not know. The final Scout, number four, is apparently new.
So, only one Scout came back to the Troop. What happened to the Originals and all the rest? Well, the boy, is with another Troop as you all well know. Two others are in another Troop too. The rest? Some in various military cadet organisations, but not all of them, maybe only three or four. Too bad, I hope they are doing well in whichever endeavours they follow. But only three originals left? And not in their original Scout Group? Wow!?!
There are reasons for all this, which apparently started back in September 2015 and culminated this past spring of 2017. Unfortunately, to me, these events were not good for the program being offered to the youth. I care not really what happened to me. I have weathered far worse treachery and guile than that which was perpetrated under the false banner of: think of the children! and other a-holish excuses to be vindictive and small minded and uniquely singular of goal.
Suffice to say, there was much underhanded behaviour, deliberate and open undermining of me as a Scouter, lack of transparency, outright being ignored, near violent behaviour, omission from communications that happened far too frequently to all be errors as claimed, general apathy, hostility, constantly remaining counter to anything I wanted to achieve with the youth, outright lies, and more. Hence, Episode 2: Attack of the Ass Clowns.
Now that there is much background, tomorrow we get in to the sea-change that occurred in Troop and the commencement of my decline. blbbl
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
where it all began - the volunteer menace
It is not really a menace, I was just following up with Star Wars inspired titles for posts related to this whole series of events. Maybe The Phantom Volunteer is better. I dunno? (Maybe I will change it later?)
As I promised, I will begin to divulge and explain my fall from grace in my old Scout Group and renewal in a new, and my current, Scout Group.
I have been advised by various parties to take caution and reconsider. Being an ass, I am unable to do that. Sometimes a person reaches a point and cannot hold themselves back. I did actually contain myself, when it all began, officially, on Saturday 15 April 2017. Unofficially, it began in early September 2015. In the end, my efforts to remain somewhat quiet, compromise, and accommodate failed. It would not be the first time that I have been party to my own demise.
However, before I get in to this tale of woe and expose certain correspondence, I will give some background leading up to the events that got me ousted from one group and landed me in another, both of which are part of the same national organisation. However, let the tale, and intrigue, begin.
I have volunteered, on and off, with youth in various organisations that support and benefit the involved youth, my whole adult. The first serious one, when I was eighteen, was with a pilot project, some thirty-odd years ago. The "Y", either the YMCA or YWCA, I do not recall any longer, of Hamilton had initiated a trial for before-and-after school care program for young students at a school in the west-end of Hamilton. This was very long before various school boards experimented with it and many have made standard.
A very good friend of mine that I worked at a movie theatre with was working there as well. For whatever reason, I would go by and visit and even help out. Then I was suddenly volunteering. I believe it was after a field trip to the ROM on a school holiday, the so-called Professional Development (PD) days that teachers have to keep their skills current, thus giving students a day without school. This was a very comprehensive program. I was put on the official roles a volunteer. Then, because of all the hours I was helping, I became a part-time employee of the program. I never did it for the money and it was never very grand anyway. I was involved with that for a year or two. I cannot recall, my brain will not reveal great detail occasionally. Nonetheless, I greatly enjoyed myself and the kids seemed to not mind my participation.
Another milestone in volunteering (with paltry wages too), was in Ottawa some few years later. It was an official program with whichever incarnation, or sub-incarnation, of the Ottawa Public School Board of the time. I was involved with that for two, three, or more years. (Remember, my brain sometimes will not cooperate on fine detail. I can be quite terrible with dates at times, even big historical stuff.)
This was a lunch-time monitoring program. Whereby, non-teachers, such as myself and other "paid volunteers", would supervise the school kids during lunch so the teachers could have a real break. After lunch was completed we would empty in to the school-yard and continue to monitor the kids and eventually teachers would trickle out through the remainder of the lunch break. When the bell rang for afternoon classes and the students went in, we were done, awaiting to be called for another day. Again, I largely delighted in my time with this program. And, again I do not think most of the kids minded our company for their lunches and playground revelries.
About eight years ago another major volunteer engagement occurred. This one without any meagre wages at all. The boy was enrolled in a soccer house league. The support staff was made up of volunteer parents. They were shy an assistant coach. Without all the positions filled, the team would be folded and the youth dispersed to other teams. I stepped up to the position to keep the team intact. I had played house league for years when I was a kid. I was no expert in soccer (or football if you prefer), but this was a totally fun league: no scores, every player took a turn at all the positions, and such. Again, no complaints from the kids.
The next year, we found out that there were several kids from our community in the same aged league, so some parents went to efforts to make a team from our community. Most were, but all were welcome and I believe everyone had a good time. Initially, I held back, but no one stepped up to the two coaching positions. I agreed to become the coach on the condition: that a particular dad was the assistant coach. The reason? This dad was also a fellow Scouter over the last year. In fact, he recruited me to the Scout Group. I figured fair turn around. Before I get in to that thread, I will finish with season two.
So, we two Scouters were coaching a house league soccer team together. Some kids were from the same team as last year, some were new of course. I knew all the ones from our community, either from Scouts and/or the school. We even arranged for a teenage lad that played for the same organisation, but on a competitive team, to come and do some guest coaching. The wife knows his mom and he was happy to come out and help. He certainly knew his stuff and as far as I know he is still playing at a high level of the sport. Anyway, the year ended well enough and again, none of the kids demanded our heads on a platter.
During all of these, and other, undertakings providing experiences and support for kids, I never had any serious issues with the youth. Sure, sometimes some kids can be jerks. Just like adults. Kids have issues too. Just like adults. It is part of life. The only serious problems I ever truly encountered were with particular higher-ups in the organisations themselves, other volunteers, or parents. Except, as far as I can recall, I never had one problem with the "Y".
That being said, there are always bumps in the road. Reasonable people work them out. Even, normally, upper echelon types. At the end of the day, I never had anything transpire that made me sorry to be involved, nor that could not be worked out in the end. That would change, as we will soon learn.
During my first year helping coach a kids soccer team, one of the dads, near the end of the season, asked if the boy was in Scouts. No, he was not. Was he interested? Apparently, the boy was. The boy was signed up to join the same Scout Group as this Scouter and his son were members of. Then the dad asked if I was interested in volunteering as a Scouter. Not that I was necessarily reluctant, but I peppered him with questions. All were satisfactorily answered. When the new Scouting year started in September 2010, I signed up to volunteer as a Scouter. This was Beavers, now officially called Beaver Scouts (for boys and girls aged 5-7 years old). I was just an ordinary Leader, as we were called back then. We all got along, the kids appeared to enjoy themselves. As the year progressed, I found myself throwing my hat in more and more. Bear in mind, all the Leaders/Scouters participated and helped out with meetings, activities, and events. Some of us, like me, just could not hold back. I guess some people noticed.
At the end of the year, this Colony (the collective term for a group of Beaver Scouts) held a year end themed camp. I jumped at the opportunity to get involved. In the end a pirate theme was chosen. I went all over the valley seeking out piratey accouterments. I even enlisted the boy's caregiver, a skilled seamstress, to help make what I did not have out various items. I still have the outfit. Basically, it was "my" camp. We all had a blast. Some people noticed my overall organisation of the camp as well.
At some point, the Contact Beaver Leader (the title given to the lead Scouter of a Colony) and the Group Commissioner (overall adult leader of the entire Scout Group) of the time approached me and informed me that he was not coming back to the Section and was moving to the Scout Section. They also asked if I wanted to be Contact Beaver Leader for the next Scouting year. I, of course, asked if any of the other Scouter were interested, some had been with the Colony for some time. I was informed that none of them really wanted the position, were okay with my becoming the lead Scouter and that they both agreed I was their first choice.
I accepted. They were pleased and informed me, they said jokingly but I am not so sure, that good, because I never really had a choice to turn it down. So, the next year I was "in charge". I engaged all the Scouters for help, support, ideas, and to put forward what we could do the following year. We also engaged the Beavers too. They had ideas and some of them were great. We had a whirlwind year. I found I was in my element with this organisation and this Group.
During my second year with the Colony, I was approached by my Group Commissioner (GC) and the Area Commissioner (the AC is overall adult leader of several Scout Groups defined by generally arbitrary boundaries) approached me to become the Deputy Area Commissioner for our Area for Colony, in addition to working with my home Colony. Basically, the job is to coordinate with all the Colonies in the Area and offer support in various ways. I had this position for two years. The first year, I think a I did a pretty good job. The second year? Not so much.
We ended the year with a Viking themed camp. I wanted to move on to the Cub Scouts (formerly known as Wolf Cubs & for boys and girls aged 8-10 years old) the next year. However, no one was comfortable with taking the lead in Colony. I was asked to remain with Colony as the Contact Beaver Leader. I stated some conditions, that once the Colony meetings were over, I wanted to be involved with the Pack (collective term for a group of Cub Scouts) for the remainder of its meetings; I would split my time for events and activities outside of the meeting nights where I was needed most, generally to ensure a Section, Colony or Pack, could meet the youth to adult ratios required by Scouts Canada; I would train someone to take over the Colony for the following year so I could be with the Pack full time. Which is what I did do, sort of.
However, halfway through the Scouting year, something of a disaster struck. The Akela (the lead Cub Leader/Scouter of a Pack) resigned suddenly. As a side note, Scouters at the Pack level in Canada generally are given nicknames of animal characters that helped Mowgli from the Jungle Book stories; Akela is the nickname of the Lead Scouter of the Pack. I was splitting my time between Pack and Colony. I enquired amongst the remaining Scouters in Pack who would take the lead job. I even made a recommendation. Everyone turned it down. I was "asked" to do it. I did not really have a choice. I actually did not seek the position, but it fell to me.
It somewhat fulfilled a prophecy from the former Akela. He said I wanted the job, so why do I not make a move to take over. So, I became the Lead Cub Scouter, but not by choice or design. I had been mentoring several of the Scouters in Colony for what was required to run the Colony, one stepped forward to be the lead for the Section, with my assurances that I would help out where I could. I did. Just so you know, they had a medieval themed end of year camp with knights and princesses and dragons. They did a fantastic job.
So, now I was the Big Giant Head of Pack. However, I refused to take the nickname of Akela. I kept my original nickname of Kaa the entire time I was with Pack. In fact, the crest is still on my original uniform shirt, along with my Rusty nickname crest from Colony (like one of these here). To me these are earned awards; they will never come off my uniform, and I have been told more than once to take them off now that I am no longer active with Colony nor Pack Sections. Well, good luck, no dice, never coming off.
Pack did a great and varied number of things over those three years. I was the Section Leader for the remainder of my tenure with Pack, about two-and-a-half years. I mentored and trained someone to take over when I left. He did a fantastic job. Alas, he ran the Pack for only one year. However, the Scouter who took his place is a fantastic Scouter, and I would like to think a friend of mine from the Scouting movement.
Following my tenure there, I moved up to work with the Scouts (generally for boys and girls aged 11-14 years old) in Troop (collective term for a group of Scouts). I was to be just an ordinary, plain-jane Scouter. Another Scouter who was with Troop the previous year was going to step in to the position of Troop Scouter (the titled given to the lead Scouter of a Troop). The Troop Scouter up until then had stepped down. He was a fantastic Scouter and another person I consider a friend from the Scouting movement. He actually stayed on as an Advisor and actually took the lead for a few community support activities the Troop ran that first year.
Various events transpired that thrust me to the position of Troop Scouter. The Scouter that was to take the position, for various reasons, felt she could not dedicate herself fully enough to give the role justice. She stayed on for that year and was a tremendous asset to the Troop. I actually have a Commendation for her, but we have not been able to tee-up for some time.
Guess who got tapped to fill the position? Yup. Me. Again, I never sought it. However, in order to ensure the youth had an effective program and great time, someone had to step up. I did. However, this is where and when it began to almost completely unravel. Another side note: I have specifically stated about a few Scouters up until this point that I consider them friends from the Scouting movement. To be honest, every Scouter, and Guider (Girl Guide Leader) I met up to this point, I consider a friend from the Scouting/Guiding movement. Regardless if they are from my Section, Group, Area, Council or not. Or another national movement altogether. I never truly met a Scouter I did not like. Sure, some were annoying or irritating. I have even gotten in to arguments with some of them. However, we were all friends; either just as Scouters, or at times friends outside the movement. This even held through my first year with Troop. Unfortunately, I would learn all too late that some of my fellow Scouters did not reciprocate this sentiment.
Oh. Would you look at the time? I guess we will pick this up tomorrow. blbbl
As I promised, I will begin to divulge and explain my fall from grace in my old Scout Group and renewal in a new, and my current, Scout Group.
I have been advised by various parties to take caution and reconsider. Being an ass, I am unable to do that. Sometimes a person reaches a point and cannot hold themselves back. I did actually contain myself, when it all began, officially, on Saturday 15 April 2017. Unofficially, it began in early September 2015. In the end, my efforts to remain somewhat quiet, compromise, and accommodate failed. It would not be the first time that I have been party to my own demise.
However, before I get in to this tale of woe and expose certain correspondence, I will give some background leading up to the events that got me ousted from one group and landed me in another, both of which are part of the same national organisation. However, let the tale, and intrigue, begin.
I have volunteered, on and off, with youth in various organisations that support and benefit the involved youth, my whole adult. The first serious one, when I was eighteen, was with a pilot project, some thirty-odd years ago. The "Y", either the YMCA or YWCA, I do not recall any longer, of Hamilton had initiated a trial for before-and-after school care program for young students at a school in the west-end of Hamilton. This was very long before various school boards experimented with it and many have made standard.
A very good friend of mine that I worked at a movie theatre with was working there as well. For whatever reason, I would go by and visit and even help out. Then I was suddenly volunteering. I believe it was after a field trip to the ROM on a school holiday, the so-called Professional Development (PD) days that teachers have to keep their skills current, thus giving students a day without school. This was a very comprehensive program. I was put on the official roles a volunteer. Then, because of all the hours I was helping, I became a part-time employee of the program. I never did it for the money and it was never very grand anyway. I was involved with that for a year or two. I cannot recall, my brain will not reveal great detail occasionally. Nonetheless, I greatly enjoyed myself and the kids seemed to not mind my participation.
Another milestone in volunteering (with paltry wages too), was in Ottawa some few years later. It was an official program with whichever incarnation, or sub-incarnation, of the Ottawa Public School Board of the time. I was involved with that for two, three, or more years. (Remember, my brain sometimes will not cooperate on fine detail. I can be quite terrible with dates at times, even big historical stuff.)
This was a lunch-time monitoring program. Whereby, non-teachers, such as myself and other "paid volunteers", would supervise the school kids during lunch so the teachers could have a real break. After lunch was completed we would empty in to the school-yard and continue to monitor the kids and eventually teachers would trickle out through the remainder of the lunch break. When the bell rang for afternoon classes and the students went in, we were done, awaiting to be called for another day. Again, I largely delighted in my time with this program. And, again I do not think most of the kids minded our company for their lunches and playground revelries.
About eight years ago another major volunteer engagement occurred. This one without any meagre wages at all. The boy was enrolled in a soccer house league. The support staff was made up of volunteer parents. They were shy an assistant coach. Without all the positions filled, the team would be folded and the youth dispersed to other teams. I stepped up to the position to keep the team intact. I had played house league for years when I was a kid. I was no expert in soccer (or football if you prefer), but this was a totally fun league: no scores, every player took a turn at all the positions, and such. Again, no complaints from the kids.
The next year, we found out that there were several kids from our community in the same aged league, so some parents went to efforts to make a team from our community. Most were, but all were welcome and I believe everyone had a good time. Initially, I held back, but no one stepped up to the two coaching positions. I agreed to become the coach on the condition: that a particular dad was the assistant coach. The reason? This dad was also a fellow Scouter over the last year. In fact, he recruited me to the Scout Group. I figured fair turn around. Before I get in to that thread, I will finish with season two.
So, we two Scouters were coaching a house league soccer team together. Some kids were from the same team as last year, some were new of course. I knew all the ones from our community, either from Scouts and/or the school. We even arranged for a teenage lad that played for the same organisation, but on a competitive team, to come and do some guest coaching. The wife knows his mom and he was happy to come out and help. He certainly knew his stuff and as far as I know he is still playing at a high level of the sport. Anyway, the year ended well enough and again, none of the kids demanded our heads on a platter.
During all of these, and other, undertakings providing experiences and support for kids, I never had any serious issues with the youth. Sure, sometimes some kids can be jerks. Just like adults. Kids have issues too. Just like adults. It is part of life. The only serious problems I ever truly encountered were with particular higher-ups in the organisations themselves, other volunteers, or parents. Except, as far as I can recall, I never had one problem with the "Y".
That being said, there are always bumps in the road. Reasonable people work them out. Even, normally, upper echelon types. At the end of the day, I never had anything transpire that made me sorry to be involved, nor that could not be worked out in the end. That would change, as we will soon learn.
During my first year helping coach a kids soccer team, one of the dads, near the end of the season, asked if the boy was in Scouts. No, he was not. Was he interested? Apparently, the boy was. The boy was signed up to join the same Scout Group as this Scouter and his son were members of. Then the dad asked if I was interested in volunteering as a Scouter. Not that I was necessarily reluctant, but I peppered him with questions. All were satisfactorily answered. When the new Scouting year started in September 2010, I signed up to volunteer as a Scouter. This was Beavers, now officially called Beaver Scouts (for boys and girls aged 5-7 years old). I was just an ordinary Leader, as we were called back then. We all got along, the kids appeared to enjoy themselves. As the year progressed, I found myself throwing my hat in more and more. Bear in mind, all the Leaders/Scouters participated and helped out with meetings, activities, and events. Some of us, like me, just could not hold back. I guess some people noticed.
At the end of the year, this Colony (the collective term for a group of Beaver Scouts) held a year end themed camp. I jumped at the opportunity to get involved. In the end a pirate theme was chosen. I went all over the valley seeking out piratey accouterments. I even enlisted the boy's caregiver, a skilled seamstress, to help make what I did not have out various items. I still have the outfit. Basically, it was "my" camp. We all had a blast. Some people noticed my overall organisation of the camp as well.
At some point, the Contact Beaver Leader (the title given to the lead Scouter of a Colony) and the Group Commissioner (overall adult leader of the entire Scout Group) of the time approached me and informed me that he was not coming back to the Section and was moving to the Scout Section. They also asked if I wanted to be Contact Beaver Leader for the next Scouting year. I, of course, asked if any of the other Scouter were interested, some had been with the Colony for some time. I was informed that none of them really wanted the position, were okay with my becoming the lead Scouter and that they both agreed I was their first choice.
I accepted. They were pleased and informed me, they said jokingly but I am not so sure, that good, because I never really had a choice to turn it down. So, the next year I was "in charge". I engaged all the Scouters for help, support, ideas, and to put forward what we could do the following year. We also engaged the Beavers too. They had ideas and some of them were great. We had a whirlwind year. I found I was in my element with this organisation and this Group.
During my second year with the Colony, I was approached by my Group Commissioner (GC) and the Area Commissioner (the AC is overall adult leader of several Scout Groups defined by generally arbitrary boundaries) approached me to become the Deputy Area Commissioner for our Area for Colony, in addition to working with my home Colony. Basically, the job is to coordinate with all the Colonies in the Area and offer support in various ways. I had this position for two years. The first year, I think a I did a pretty good job. The second year? Not so much.
We ended the year with a Viking themed camp. I wanted to move on to the Cub Scouts (formerly known as Wolf Cubs & for boys and girls aged 8-10 years old) the next year. However, no one was comfortable with taking the lead in Colony. I was asked to remain with Colony as the Contact Beaver Leader. I stated some conditions, that once the Colony meetings were over, I wanted to be involved with the Pack (collective term for a group of Cub Scouts) for the remainder of its meetings; I would split my time for events and activities outside of the meeting nights where I was needed most, generally to ensure a Section, Colony or Pack, could meet the youth to adult ratios required by Scouts Canada; I would train someone to take over the Colony for the following year so I could be with the Pack full time. Which is what I did do, sort of.
However, halfway through the Scouting year, something of a disaster struck. The Akela (the lead Cub Leader/Scouter of a Pack) resigned suddenly. As a side note, Scouters at the Pack level in Canada generally are given nicknames of animal characters that helped Mowgli from the Jungle Book stories; Akela is the nickname of the Lead Scouter of the Pack. I was splitting my time between Pack and Colony. I enquired amongst the remaining Scouters in Pack who would take the lead job. I even made a recommendation. Everyone turned it down. I was "asked" to do it. I did not really have a choice. I actually did not seek the position, but it fell to me.
It somewhat fulfilled a prophecy from the former Akela. He said I wanted the job, so why do I not make a move to take over. So, I became the Lead Cub Scouter, but not by choice or design. I had been mentoring several of the Scouters in Colony for what was required to run the Colony, one stepped forward to be the lead for the Section, with my assurances that I would help out where I could. I did. Just so you know, they had a medieval themed end of year camp with knights and princesses and dragons. They did a fantastic job.
So, now I was the Big Giant Head of Pack. However, I refused to take the nickname of Akela. I kept my original nickname of Kaa the entire time I was with Pack. In fact, the crest is still on my original uniform shirt, along with my Rusty nickname crest from Colony (like one of these here). To me these are earned awards; they will never come off my uniform, and I have been told more than once to take them off now that I am no longer active with Colony nor Pack Sections. Well, good luck, no dice, never coming off.
Pack did a great and varied number of things over those three years. I was the Section Leader for the remainder of my tenure with Pack, about two-and-a-half years. I mentored and trained someone to take over when I left. He did a fantastic job. Alas, he ran the Pack for only one year. However, the Scouter who took his place is a fantastic Scouter, and I would like to think a friend of mine from the Scouting movement.
Following my tenure there, I moved up to work with the Scouts (generally for boys and girls aged 11-14 years old) in Troop (collective term for a group of Scouts). I was to be just an ordinary, plain-jane Scouter. Another Scouter who was with Troop the previous year was going to step in to the position of Troop Scouter (the titled given to the lead Scouter of a Troop). The Troop Scouter up until then had stepped down. He was a fantastic Scouter and another person I consider a friend from the Scouting movement. He actually stayed on as an Advisor and actually took the lead for a few community support activities the Troop ran that first year.
Various events transpired that thrust me to the position of Troop Scouter. The Scouter that was to take the position, for various reasons, felt she could not dedicate herself fully enough to give the role justice. She stayed on for that year and was a tremendous asset to the Troop. I actually have a Commendation for her, but we have not been able to tee-up for some time.
Guess who got tapped to fill the position? Yup. Me. Again, I never sought it. However, in order to ensure the youth had an effective program and great time, someone had to step up. I did. However, this is where and when it began to almost completely unravel. Another side note: I have specifically stated about a few Scouters up until this point that I consider them friends from the Scouting movement. To be honest, every Scouter, and Guider (Girl Guide Leader) I met up to this point, I consider a friend from the Scouting/Guiding movement. Regardless if they are from my Section, Group, Area, Council or not. Or another national movement altogether. I never truly met a Scouter I did not like. Sure, some were annoying or irritating. I have even gotten in to arguments with some of them. However, we were all friends; either just as Scouters, or at times friends outside the movement. This even held through my first year with Troop. Unfortunately, I would learn all too late that some of my fellow Scouters did not reciprocate this sentiment.
Oh. Would you look at the time? I guess we will pick this up tomorrow. blbbl
Monday, September 18, 2017
holy administration
Back to school, back to Scouting, back to my outdoors club, trying to get back to trail maintenance. Not to forget my truck: windshield work and general maintenance.
I do not remember a September so demanding.
An admin/planning meeting last night for the Scout Troop, one for the Scout Group tonight. Planning two camps over the next five weeks.
All the forms and files from the boy's school.
Meetings, admin, and maintenance with my club.
I have not been on the Rideau Trail since coming back from the Scout Jamboree. I need to get back on as next month the postponed Scout Rideau Challenge Journey hike from last May is next month and all participants will hike through part or all of our (the boy and I) section of trail we maintain.
Got the truck's windshield gasket repaired super early this morning. No more duct tape and huge rubber whips slapping the side of the truck. The wife has the truck the rest of this week as her car absolutely needs a brake job. So, organising a tuneup and some maintenance for my truck, I hope next week.
Before that, just managed to close the pool, some overdue yard maintenance and more yet to come. And do not forget the slaying of a carpenter ant colony.
I am also head chef at Casa Resort Rooster, excepting breakfast and grill cheese sandwiches; chief bottle washer, excepting wood flooring and dusting; and general serf-about-town.
Holy mac! Just back from the Scout Group meeting. A very switched on bunch of people. Very open minded and lots of great ideas. But I am knackered. A lot of information and great ideas to soak in.
Tomorrow, the rooster begins recounting my tale of woe that began with a bottle drive and ended up with the whole family becoming members of another Scout Group. Prepare for drama, anger, deceit, guile, and subterfuge. blbbl
An admin/planning meeting last night for the Scout Troop, one for the Scout Group tonight. Planning two camps over the next five weeks.
All the forms and files from the boy's school.
Meetings, admin, and maintenance with my club.
I have not been on the Rideau Trail since coming back from the Scout Jamboree. I need to get back on as next month the postponed Scout Rideau Challenge Journey hike from last May is next month and all participants will hike through part or all of our (the boy and I) section of trail we maintain.
Got the truck's windshield gasket repaired super early this morning. No more duct tape and huge rubber whips slapping the side of the truck. The wife has the truck the rest of this week as her car absolutely needs a brake job. So, organising a tuneup and some maintenance for my truck, I hope next week.
Before that, just managed to close the pool, some overdue yard maintenance and more yet to come. And do not forget the slaying of a carpenter ant colony.
I am also head chef at Casa Resort Rooster, excepting breakfast and grill cheese sandwiches; chief bottle washer, excepting wood flooring and dusting; and general serf-about-town.
Holy mac! Just back from the Scout Group meeting. A very switched on bunch of people. Very open minded and lots of great ideas. But I am knackered. A lot of information and great ideas to soak in.
Tomorrow, the rooster begins recounting my tale of woe that began with a bottle drive and ended up with the whole family becoming members of another Scout Group. Prepare for drama, anger, deceit, guile, and subterfuge. blbbl
Sunday, September 17, 2017
ants!
So, this morning I go out for a coffee on the back deck. I have some buckets on one side of the wraparound steps and one was knocked off. Something in the night must have been snooping around and tumbled it. I go over to it to put it back and what do I see? You are correct, ants!
Actually, what I actually saw first was what looked like a pile of sawdust on the stairs. I look closer and it is crawling with ants. I look at the ornamental log that is sitting on the corner. It looks like a bear's head so it was put there for show. There are holes bored in the top and the saw dust is from raw wood, not green like the pressure treated lumber the stairs are made out of.
I know it is ants, carpenter ants. The worst kind in some ways. A few years back I was helping a buddy clear out some dying poplars in his yard and I took a bunch of logs from the healthier parts of the trees. As we cut the trunk down we discovered multiple colonies of carpenter ants in the trunks. Well, now we knew why the trees were dying.
I did not take any of that for firewood as I did not want to transport those wood-munchers to my property. Well, some days later, when I was not home, he dropped off the ant infested pieces after he cut them up for splitting size. However, I did not know it was carpenter ant infested lumber.
I learnt that when I went to split the wood on a subsequent weekend. Well, I split one and the ants came pouring out. I knew now. Well, while tramping them and calling out to the wife and the boy to lend a hand, I ran out to the fire pit in the back and got some tinder and kindling set up. The ants needed to be eliminated. I did not want them getting in to my trees or the framing of my house. They will get in to your house to find a place to colonise. It happened in my brother's garage.
So, I get the fire going and, with gloves on, get the ant-log over to the fire. After they took care of the ants at the woodpile, the boy kept watch on the fire and the ants. He had instructions to destroy every ant trying to get out of the fire and he could crush them with a stick in the fire too. Normally, we live with "a leave us alone and we will leave you alone" policy with nature, but not carpenter ants, nor wasps. I finished up the wood and found a couple of more logs filled with ants. The hard way. Splitting the log open! I also found a couple before splitting, once I figured out what to look for. Those were organically recycled. I brought the other split logs to the fire while the wife dispensed with the ants that spilled out.
The boy and I, and later, the friend who brought the ant-wood too, spent our afternoon murdering ants. He stopped by to chat. So, we, my friend and I and not the boy, had a beer and slaughtered hundreds, probably thousands, of ants. These guys are tough, brave, and wily. You could see them grabbing eggs larva, and pupa, trying to save them. You could see them ferrying them about and trying to get out of the fire. Any with wings were immediately destroyed.
They can take the heat too. There was one just not moving on the edge of one log. I thought it was dead. It was there for at least forty minutes with flames licking all about it, but it never moved, it did not budge a micron. Then at one point, I must have stuck my stick in to the fire to kill a winged ant or something like that. I must have come really close to that "dead" ant. Suddenly, it made a run for it. Sadly, it was struck down. It did give me a great respect for these buggers though. That was tough stuff. Trying to wait me out and then when it thought it may be doomed, it bolted.
Anyway, from that, I learnt that if a log is infested with carpenter ants, do not split the log, burn it as is. (And do not forget the "sawdust", I made sure that was dumped in too once the fire got going.) The problem with that though, is that it takes forever for the log to burn. Basically, the outside just keeps charring. So, today, I worked on getting the log to burn quicker. I turned it every now and again in the fire, like I was cooking something. Also, I took a stick and kept scraping the char off. Then, I found a soft spot and started "drilling" in to it. Basically, I just kept turning and pressing the stick in to the log until it started to wear the stick down. It let me cut channels in to the wood and expose more wood to burn.
Eventually, I broke a small chunk off. Right under that chunk was a few dozen ants and a bunch of pupa. They were not burned, but the ants were not moving. So, either they were asphyxiated from the fire and smoke, were stunned from the smoke, or were trying to fake me out like that one previously. I was not taking any chances, I scraped them off right in to the fire. While this was all going on, the wife found a bunch of ants and eggs on another part of the deck, not far from where the log was. Somehow, I missed some and the ants were trying to save the eggs and regroup. Well, an unlucky day for them, they got squished.
Back at the fire, I kept feeding kindling, twigs, and various scrap pieces of wood to keep the fire going to burn the log down to ashes. It was taking forever. I got a bright idea. I got a junk axe and a hammer. I placed edge of the axe against a crease in the side of the log and struck it with the hammer. I drove the axe in to the hilt, then took it out, turned it over and did it again. I kept doing this until it spilt in half. No more ants seen, but evidence of tunnels and such. I kept feeding the fire with scrap wood.
Finally, after about six hours, I got the two halves down to tiny bits and that was that. Now, of course, I was not constantly feeding the fire and beating up the log. I kept close to the fire and would build the fire up when it died down to mainly embers around the log. I did little chores otherwise or read. I have been reading a lot. I know I sound like a madman, but they can decimate your trees or damage your home if left unchecked. They, like the wasps in my hedge, can build super-colonies. At my friend's place, those ants in the various trees were part of a larger super-colony. They had their own colony, or even colonies, in each tree, but they interacted with each other. You could see them scurrying between trees even.
I had to put a stop to it. If I had a bit of an acreage, I would probably have dumped the log somewhere in the back forty, but I do not have that kind of space. Those buggers could very well have migrated back to my house if I dumped them at the back of my place. Hey, I expect to live at least another half a century or more. I want to live in this house without hearing them munching all night long. Respect or not. blbbl
Actually, what I actually saw first was what looked like a pile of sawdust on the stairs. I look closer and it is crawling with ants. I look at the ornamental log that is sitting on the corner. It looks like a bear's head so it was put there for show. There are holes bored in the top and the saw dust is from raw wood, not green like the pressure treated lumber the stairs are made out of.
I know it is ants, carpenter ants. The worst kind in some ways. A few years back I was helping a buddy clear out some dying poplars in his yard and I took a bunch of logs from the healthier parts of the trees. As we cut the trunk down we discovered multiple colonies of carpenter ants in the trunks. Well, now we knew why the trees were dying.
I did not take any of that for firewood as I did not want to transport those wood-munchers to my property. Well, some days later, when I was not home, he dropped off the ant infested pieces after he cut them up for splitting size. However, I did not know it was carpenter ant infested lumber.
I learnt that when I went to split the wood on a subsequent weekend. Well, I split one and the ants came pouring out. I knew now. Well, while tramping them and calling out to the wife and the boy to lend a hand, I ran out to the fire pit in the back and got some tinder and kindling set up. The ants needed to be eliminated. I did not want them getting in to my trees or the framing of my house. They will get in to your house to find a place to colonise. It happened in my brother's garage.
So, I get the fire going and, with gloves on, get the ant-log over to the fire. After they took care of the ants at the woodpile, the boy kept watch on the fire and the ants. He had instructions to destroy every ant trying to get out of the fire and he could crush them with a stick in the fire too. Normally, we live with "a leave us alone and we will leave you alone" policy with nature, but not carpenter ants, nor wasps. I finished up the wood and found a couple of more logs filled with ants. The hard way. Splitting the log open! I also found a couple before splitting, once I figured out what to look for. Those were organically recycled. I brought the other split logs to the fire while the wife dispensed with the ants that spilled out.
The boy and I, and later, the friend who brought the ant-wood too, spent our afternoon murdering ants. He stopped by to chat. So, we, my friend and I and not the boy, had a beer and slaughtered hundreds, probably thousands, of ants. These guys are tough, brave, and wily. You could see them grabbing eggs larva, and pupa, trying to save them. You could see them ferrying them about and trying to get out of the fire. Any with wings were immediately destroyed.
They can take the heat too. There was one just not moving on the edge of one log. I thought it was dead. It was there for at least forty minutes with flames licking all about it, but it never moved, it did not budge a micron. Then at one point, I must have stuck my stick in to the fire to kill a winged ant or something like that. I must have come really close to that "dead" ant. Suddenly, it made a run for it. Sadly, it was struck down. It did give me a great respect for these buggers though. That was tough stuff. Trying to wait me out and then when it thought it may be doomed, it bolted.
Anyway, from that, I learnt that if a log is infested with carpenter ants, do not split the log, burn it as is. (And do not forget the "sawdust", I made sure that was dumped in too once the fire got going.) The problem with that though, is that it takes forever for the log to burn. Basically, the outside just keeps charring. So, today, I worked on getting the log to burn quicker. I turned it every now and again in the fire, like I was cooking something. Also, I took a stick and kept scraping the char off. Then, I found a soft spot and started "drilling" in to it. Basically, I just kept turning and pressing the stick in to the log until it started to wear the stick down. It let me cut channels in to the wood and expose more wood to burn.
Eventually, I broke a small chunk off. Right under that chunk was a few dozen ants and a bunch of pupa. They were not burned, but the ants were not moving. So, either they were asphyxiated from the fire and smoke, were stunned from the smoke, or were trying to fake me out like that one previously. I was not taking any chances, I scraped them off right in to the fire. While this was all going on, the wife found a bunch of ants and eggs on another part of the deck, not far from where the log was. Somehow, I missed some and the ants were trying to save the eggs and regroup. Well, an unlucky day for them, they got squished.
Back at the fire, I kept feeding kindling, twigs, and various scrap pieces of wood to keep the fire going to burn the log down to ashes. It was taking forever. I got a bright idea. I got a junk axe and a hammer. I placed edge of the axe against a crease in the side of the log and struck it with the hammer. I drove the axe in to the hilt, then took it out, turned it over and did it again. I kept doing this until it spilt in half. No more ants seen, but evidence of tunnels and such. I kept feeding the fire with scrap wood.
Finally, after about six hours, I got the two halves down to tiny bits and that was that. Now, of course, I was not constantly feeding the fire and beating up the log. I kept close to the fire and would build the fire up when it died down to mainly embers around the log. I did little chores otherwise or read. I have been reading a lot. I know I sound like a madman, but they can decimate your trees or damage your home if left unchecked. They, like the wasps in my hedge, can build super-colonies. At my friend's place, those ants in the various trees were part of a larger super-colony. They had their own colony, or even colonies, in each tree, but they interacted with each other. You could see them scurrying between trees even.
I had to put a stop to it. If I had a bit of an acreage, I would probably have dumped the log somewhere in the back forty, but I do not have that kind of space. Those buggers could very well have migrated back to my house if I dumped them at the back of my place. Hey, I expect to live at least another half a century or more. I want to live in this house without hearing them munching all night long. Respect or not. blbbl
Saturday, September 16, 2017
busy birthday day
Sorry, another short post.
We went out to commemorate the boy's birthday this past Tuesday.
We went to Karters Korner with three of his friends and they had a day of go-karting and paintball. Very reasonably priced and it included their lunch!
The boy wiped out on the track as he was starting one of his laps as some knucklehead pulled on to the track and was waiting for a buddy. The boy had to steer around him and ended up in the rough. Otherwise no mishaps and a bunch of fun.
They then played for some time on the paintball course. Karters Korner basically built little villages out of plywood. That is where the boys engaged in painted battle. They loved holing up in the church tower. Lucky there is no paint artillery. They played against some dad and his two kids. They all played with honour.
One of the boy's buddies in the first round was the first out. He took a shot in the face mask at the mouth. There is a grill to allow airflow and he ate a bunch of paint. A bit funny and he was alright. They all have a few welts. The boy has three we found. One on the knee, his thigh, and a doozy on one shoulder. That one looks like the cross section of a jawbreaker.
They had a blast.
Then we went to "our" Mexican restaurant for supper. A great dinner again. I like the ranchero, now I can get it with chorizo sausage. Awesome!
So, now long day, super tired. Going to have a digestif and hit the sack. I have lots of work to do tomorrow. I will get back on track this week. Thanks for indulging me. Cheers! blbbl
We went out to commemorate the boy's birthday this past Tuesday.
We went to Karters Korner with three of his friends and they had a day of go-karting and paintball. Very reasonably priced and it included their lunch!
The boy wiped out on the track as he was starting one of his laps as some knucklehead pulled on to the track and was waiting for a buddy. The boy had to steer around him and ended up in the rough. Otherwise no mishaps and a bunch of fun.
They then played for some time on the paintball course. Karters Korner basically built little villages out of plywood. That is where the boys engaged in painted battle. They loved holing up in the church tower. Lucky there is no paint artillery. They played against some dad and his two kids. They all played with honour.
One of the boy's buddies in the first round was the first out. He took a shot in the face mask at the mouth. There is a grill to allow airflow and he ate a bunch of paint. A bit funny and he was alright. They all have a few welts. The boy has three we found. One on the knee, his thigh, and a doozy on one shoulder. That one looks like the cross section of a jawbreaker.
They had a blast.
Then we went to "our" Mexican restaurant for supper. A great dinner again. I like the ranchero, now I can get it with chorizo sausage. Awesome!
So, now long day, super tired. Going to have a digestif and hit the sack. I have lots of work to do tomorrow. I will get back on track this week. Thanks for indulging me. Cheers! blbbl
Friday, September 15, 2017
under the weather - but something is coming
So, taking a bit of a sick day today. Whatever it is that is cutting me down is worse today. Not much focus. Sorry about that, the one idea I had just needs some nurturing before it can come to fruition.
On the bright side, I will follow up next week on events that triggered my having to change Scout Groups, which was "officially" set in motion by the Saga of Mulligans Grocery back in April of this year. Considering how my ejection from my old Scout Group occurred and the comportment of parties involved, my pledge to keep mum for the time being, as they asked, has expired.
I will dig through my emails and, as they say, tell-all. Will I get in to more trouble? Maybe, but the truth shall not be hidden. It is time. blbbl
On the bright side, I will follow up next week on events that triggered my having to change Scout Groups, which was "officially" set in motion by the Saga of Mulligans Grocery back in April of this year. Considering how my ejection from my old Scout Group occurred and the comportment of parties involved, my pledge to keep mum for the time being, as they asked, has expired.
Thursday, September 14, 2017
what a frickin' day!
Amongst other things, it has been a comedy of errors today.
So, I have had this hot and cold thing going on since my last wasp sting. At the start, I was always feeling cold, while the arm that was stung was hot. I was wearing polar fleece sweat pants and my old and heavily patched quilt-lined muskoka dinner jacket all the time. Now, over the last couple of days, I suddenly feel hot and start sweating. I have also been sleeping pretty hard, but it is tough to wake up. Today, I said bye to the boy before he went to wait for the bus from bed. I did not get up until 8:00.
Then I was up and moving and cold. I made a coffee and put on the dinner jacket then went to sit outside. I was hot. Took off the jacket, I was cold. Fine. Then I went to finish closing the pool. Every tool I brought was the wrong one. Pliers, too big. Socket driver, too small. Drill, wrong bit and dead battery. I knocked the huge and heavy filter off its base. And of course, you cannot just slide it back on, because the base just keeps sliding. So, I grab two points that look like they will not break when I lift the huge and heavy filter to put it back on. Miraculously, nothing apparently went wrong.
Then the phone rings. I trot back to the house and answer. It is the wife. The boy texted her and said he had thrown up at school, can I get him? Yeah, sure. I just need to put everything away. Off I go.
Halfway there I feel queasy. Now, the boy has vomited on and off for the last couple of days. Maybe my hot-cold thing is a bug I may have picked up from him. That is funny. A bug. Get it. Ha, ha, ha. I was stung by a wasp. One way or another it is a bug. Ha, I kill me.
Anyway, the queasiness passes. I get the boy. He sounds and looks like crap. He tells me what happened: He was eating lunch and half way through his sandwich, he knows he is going to ralph. He sets off running down the hall. The principal is in the same hallway and stops and asks what his rush is.The boy responds: I need to go puke, unless you want me to puke on you, you might want to get out the way. The principal graciously stepped aside and waved him forth. I thought that was funny. At least he got his school photo done before he went to heave.
We get home, he takes it easy and I go to finish with the pool. This year, we decided to put the tarp and leaf net on separately, in the hopes of being able to get the leaves off the tarp without spilling them in to the pool like often happens. Even though we are replacing the liner next year because it has many nicks in the liner from the tree that fell on it, it is also an emergency water supply for the toilet and such if we have a power outage, so it still is getting covered.
So, I cable up the tarp, put it on and the cable is too short. I forgot one end got mangled and I had to cut some off this past spring when we took it off. Try as I might, the two ends will not go together for the crank lock. Okay, I will get the other length of cable and make a tie-down for the leaf net and splice the leftovers to the tarp cable. I set up the leaf net the same way. What?! Too short too. It should not be, but it is. I also ripped off a grommet loop off the leaf net. Yay! So, I can trim and splice the cables together and cinch the tarp and net together and risk a crap load of leaves in the pool or I can figure something out.
I figure something out. I make loops on all the ends of the two cables with crimps and get some heavy gauge electrical wire. I make a loop on one end of the wire and weave it through all the loops of the two cables and then run the free end through the wire loop and then cinch it through the crank lock. Voilà!
I am eager to do more. So, I decide to work on the gate I put in. I decided I need to swap the gates and put the bigger gate on the 6x6 post and the smaller gate on the 4x4 post. Also, I decided it would be better to have the gates open out to the front of the property as it would be better and allow me to store gear or equipment more easily behind the fence or to dump firewood that would be stacked at the back later. Also, I would be able to park a car there and close the gate as well. I take everything apart and put the big gate on. No real problems there. Then, the small gate was just a bugger. The 4x4 post is moving a lot. I wedge it in with various techniques. I finally get the small gate on and the hasp catching properly. However, the small gate is sloping towards the other gate and just does not line up as well as I would like. It is out of true.
I am very frustrated by this point and decide to leave it for now. Why? Well, I had to bust the screws off the hinges for the small gate because the original installer did a pretty hack job. They used the wrong screws, put them in at many different angles, no two went in at the same angle, and some were somehow bent. Anyway, I got that done, banged the broken screws in to the wood. But now, I will be short screws. I used five or six different types of screws. I even had to use some heavy-duty masonry screws. I am trying to do this without expense. I will still have to get a couple of pieces of hardware and I am short material for the gate on the other side of the house, so I will be spending some dough, but as little as possible is the goal. As you all know, I am raking in the penny, from this blog; plus I am a cheapskate.
Anyway, since I was using different screws, I needed different bits. Every time I picked a bit, I picked the wrong one, and I lost a bit somewhere in the grass. Tons of fun. I am sure I will find the lost bit with the lawnmower next time I cut the grass. Also, the batteries for the two different drills I have are getting old and crappy. All but one cannot hold a charge for more than a week. So, I was running on low power most of the time. It makes it very hard to screw in heavy gauge screws when your drill is running at less than half speed. To top it all off, even though I was in the shade, somehow the sun was beating directly on the top of my head making me sweat. You know, the sweat that just gets in to your eyebrows and then runs in to your eyes. I hate that. So, so much! That is why when I saw the gate sagging in a most peculiar way, I gave up for the day. I may have to set the gate out of square to the post, as I think the post has picked an out of plum position to settle in.
Kind of like me today. Now, where are my fleece sweats and dinner jacket. blbbl
So, I have had this hot and cold thing going on since my last wasp sting. At the start, I was always feeling cold, while the arm that was stung was hot. I was wearing polar fleece sweat pants and my old and heavily patched quilt-lined muskoka dinner jacket all the time. Now, over the last couple of days, I suddenly feel hot and start sweating. I have also been sleeping pretty hard, but it is tough to wake up. Today, I said bye to the boy before he went to wait for the bus from bed. I did not get up until 8:00.
Then I was up and moving and cold. I made a coffee and put on the dinner jacket then went to sit outside. I was hot. Took off the jacket, I was cold. Fine. Then I went to finish closing the pool. Every tool I brought was the wrong one. Pliers, too big. Socket driver, too small. Drill, wrong bit and dead battery. I knocked the huge and heavy filter off its base. And of course, you cannot just slide it back on, because the base just keeps sliding. So, I grab two points that look like they will not break when I lift the huge and heavy filter to put it back on. Miraculously, nothing apparently went wrong.
Then the phone rings. I trot back to the house and answer. It is the wife. The boy texted her and said he had thrown up at school, can I get him? Yeah, sure. I just need to put everything away. Off I go.
Halfway there I feel queasy. Now, the boy has vomited on and off for the last couple of days. Maybe my hot-cold thing is a bug I may have picked up from him. That is funny. A bug. Get it. Ha, ha, ha. I was stung by a wasp. One way or another it is a bug. Ha, I kill me.
Anyway, the queasiness passes. I get the boy. He sounds and looks like crap. He tells me what happened: He was eating lunch and half way through his sandwich, he knows he is going to ralph. He sets off running down the hall. The principal is in the same hallway and stops and asks what his rush is.The boy responds: I need to go puke, unless you want me to puke on you, you might want to get out the way. The principal graciously stepped aside and waved him forth. I thought that was funny. At least he got his school photo done before he went to heave.
We get home, he takes it easy and I go to finish with the pool. This year, we decided to put the tarp and leaf net on separately, in the hopes of being able to get the leaves off the tarp without spilling them in to the pool like often happens. Even though we are replacing the liner next year because it has many nicks in the liner from the tree that fell on it, it is also an emergency water supply for the toilet and such if we have a power outage, so it still is getting covered.
So, I cable up the tarp, put it on and the cable is too short. I forgot one end got mangled and I had to cut some off this past spring when we took it off. Try as I might, the two ends will not go together for the crank lock. Okay, I will get the other length of cable and make a tie-down for the leaf net and splice the leftovers to the tarp cable. I set up the leaf net the same way. What?! Too short too. It should not be, but it is. I also ripped off a grommet loop off the leaf net. Yay! So, I can trim and splice the cables together and cinch the tarp and net together and risk a crap load of leaves in the pool or I can figure something out.
I figure something out. I make loops on all the ends of the two cables with crimps and get some heavy gauge electrical wire. I make a loop on one end of the wire and weave it through all the loops of the two cables and then run the free end through the wire loop and then cinch it through the crank lock. Voilà!
I am eager to do more. So, I decide to work on the gate I put in. I decided I need to swap the gates and put the bigger gate on the 6x6 post and the smaller gate on the 4x4 post. Also, I decided it would be better to have the gates open out to the front of the property as it would be better and allow me to store gear or equipment more easily behind the fence or to dump firewood that would be stacked at the back later. Also, I would be able to park a car there and close the gate as well. I take everything apart and put the big gate on. No real problems there. Then, the small gate was just a bugger. The 4x4 post is moving a lot. I wedge it in with various techniques. I finally get the small gate on and the hasp catching properly. However, the small gate is sloping towards the other gate and just does not line up as well as I would like. It is out of true.
I am very frustrated by this point and decide to leave it for now. Why? Well, I had to bust the screws off the hinges for the small gate because the original installer did a pretty hack job. They used the wrong screws, put them in at many different angles, no two went in at the same angle, and some were somehow bent. Anyway, I got that done, banged the broken screws in to the wood. But now, I will be short screws. I used five or six different types of screws. I even had to use some heavy-duty masonry screws. I am trying to do this without expense. I will still have to get a couple of pieces of hardware and I am short material for the gate on the other side of the house, so I will be spending some dough, but as little as possible is the goal. As you all know, I am raking in the penny, from this blog; plus I am a cheapskate.
Anyway, since I was using different screws, I needed different bits. Every time I picked a bit, I picked the wrong one, and I lost a bit somewhere in the grass. Tons of fun. I am sure I will find the lost bit with the lawnmower next time I cut the grass. Also, the batteries for the two different drills I have are getting old and crappy. All but one cannot hold a charge for more than a week. So, I was running on low power most of the time. It makes it very hard to screw in heavy gauge screws when your drill is running at less than half speed. To top it all off, even though I was in the shade, somehow the sun was beating directly on the top of my head making me sweat. You know, the sweat that just gets in to your eyebrows and then runs in to your eyes. I hate that. So, so much! That is why when I saw the gate sagging in a most peculiar way, I gave up for the day. I may have to set the gate out of square to the post, as I think the post has picked an out of plum position to settle in.
Kind of like me today. Now, where are my fleece sweats and dinner jacket. blbbl
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