Nailed to the tree

You know—nothing says Holy Week better than a twice-impeached, four-times indicted on 88 felony charges former president hawking “God Bless the USA” Bibles at $59.99 a pop (plush S&H), thus bringing the practice of simony into the 21^st Century.

This is a guy who cannot quote a single Bible verse; who only appears in churches for campaign photo opportunities and funerals, because services conflict with his own worship, on the golf course. (Although, okay, he has broken most of the Ten Commandments.) So it is seriously cherce to watch the video in which he proclaims multiple times that the Bible is his favorite book and that “religion and Christianity” are what’s missing from this country.

The brown fake-leather cover has “FJB” embossed between two AR-type rifles, in case you were in any doubt about his piety.

This was a day after he wished everyone “Happy Holy Week,” and .shared something allegedly sent to him comparing his travails to the sufferings of Christ during this time. (People all over Twitter offered to give him a chance: die on the cross (or, TBH, just die) and if he rises after three days, okay. I myself would appoint multiple monitors to watch over him for the three days, sticking pins into random places every few minutes before I'd accept that he had actually died. This is not personal, I wanted to do it for Kenny Lay when he evaded prison for his Enron crimes by allegedly dying.)

Anyway, since the crucifixion of Good Friday is the setup for the resurrection of Easter, today we’re having the old spiritual “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord.” I can think of no one better to sing it than Mahalia Jackson.

Agitation at the homestead

My clothes washer is giving up the ghost. It washes fine, but the spin cycle lasts for about 37 seconds, which doesn’t get all the water out of the clothes. I have to double-spin, using the cycle after the soak option, in order to not put dripping clothes in the dryer.

It’s a fairly bog-standard Kitchen Aid washer, which came with the house when I bought it seven years ago. The previous owners apparently didn’t live here very long, and they certainly didn’t invest in upgrading appliances while they were here, so it’s old. (Evidently the other kitchen appliances were deal-breakers, because after the house had been on the market some months, the owners brought in a bog-standard stainless steel refrigerator, stove and dishwasher to freshen things up a little. The installers hadn’t even bothered to plug in the stove.)

A couple of weeks ago I had a repairman out. He diagnosed the problem as the timer mechanism. And it turns out that the machine is so old that you can’t get parts for it (unless on eBay, which my guy is reluctant to do).

So I’ve been spending way more time than I’d like looking at washers this week. I don’t want or need an all-singing, all-dancing machine. I’m sure as hell not going to connect it to the wi-fi network; I can’t even figure out how to connect my Roomba to it. My guy likes LG, and favors front loaders. I can’t say I rate them much, but I was willing to go with it. Even though about the cheapest one of them you can get is $700 (and that’s allegedly a sale price.)

However, after getting all the way to the Costco website, I read the warning that it’s up to customers to make sure that whatever they purchase fits wherever they want it. So I went back to the laundry cubbyhole in my kitchen and this time measured the depth of the space. Just barely 31”. All front loaders are as close to 31” as makes no difference. Which doesn’t allow for hoses at the back of the machine. (My current washer is 25” deep, with a four-inch space behind it and one-inch gap to the accordion door.)

So I’m back to looking for washers—this time top loaders.

Ugh.

 

Plates

It’s been a while since we’ve looked at vanity plates, so here’s a sampling.

I wondered whether this one is for a QAnon whackjob:

This one is feeling favored by God:

While this one opposes deities:

This one may be a fan of a particular brand of vodka:

This one’s presumably a tri-athlete:

And this one may be either a name or a status:

Walking the artists' way

The sidewalk chalk artists have been at work in the ‘hood again. I think this may be a Sandworm:

Not sure about this one:

A lot of hand- and foot-prints:

A little misogyny:

Some appreciation:

A…mousebunny?

And this:

 

 

Gratitude Monday: season's first

 Guys, guys: first tulips of the year:

Guess what I'm grateful for today.

Squirting flowers

Republicans on the House Oversight Committee just showed us the truth of the adage “Elect clowns; expect a circus.” Because Wednesday’s hearing about alleged impeachable offenses by President Joe Biden was pretty much Republicans beclowning themselves, with some able assists from the Democrats.

So we’re having the iconic “Entrance of the Gladiators”, composed by Czech Julius Fučík, performed here by The Hill Crew. I heard it all day Wednesday.

 

 

 

Grinding fine

So, here’s an interesting (to me) variant on shrinkflation, the practice of vendors in the food supply chain of reducing the amount of product you find in packaging but charging the same price.

For some reason, Trader Joe has put 1.3 ounces of rainbow peppercorns in a slightly taller jar than before:

I only noticed it because the new grinder top they switched to doesn’t do a good job of actually grinding the peppercorns, so I put one of the older tops on. 

Then they changed the threads on the screw portion, so I have to pour the peppercorns into one of the older jars to make it work.

I have absolutely no idea what they gain from this, but there it is.

 

 

Attention to detail

Last week a recruiter contacted me on LinkedIn for a job.

I’m not sure what he saw in my profile that made him think I was in any way capable of doing it, so I replied thus:

And this was his response:

So, not only does he not read profiles, he doesn’t read his messages. But he has a job.

 

 

This one's for Joe

Unless you’re Italian or trying to sell a house, you may not be aware that today is Saint Joseph’s Day.

You remember Joseph? Husband of Mary? Taught Jesus everything he knew about carpentry and joinery?

Yeah, that’s the sad tale. Poor guy is always losing out: in the Nativity, it’s all the Madonna and the kid; in cursing it’s always Jesus-Mary-and-Joseph; in March it’s always Saint Patrick.

Joseph is the patron of, among others, the Church Universal, workers, families, engineers, the dying, Canada, confectioners, travelers, those in doubt, cabinetmakers, Korea and Vatican II. Also of house sellers and hunters, which should make him a pretty busy fellow these days.

Today is his official feast day—celebrated widely in Italian communities around the world with altars decorated with flowers, limes, candles, wine, breads, cookies, pastries and other symbols of the good life. This is of particular importance when you consider that Saint Joseph’s Day usually falls in Lent, when consumption is constricted.

(There’s another day, 1 May, dedicated to Saint Joseph the Worker; but that was invented in 1955 by Pope Pius XII to counter the godless communist/union/laborer May Day holiday, so you can fuggedaboutit.)

What I remember about Saint Joseph’s Day is that it’s when the swallows come back to Capistrano—that’s the Mission of San Juan Capistrano, in the eponymous town in Orange County, California. Turns out that the swallows usually show up a couple of days on one side or another of 19 March, but everyone turns a blind eye to those little discrepancies and enjoys the hell out of the miracle of the swallows.

There are decades of stories about how Saint Joe helps the desperate sell their homes: you bury a (plastic/stone/wooden) statue of the saint (head up/head/down/horizontal) in your (front/back/side) yard and Bob’s your uncle—the house is sold.

You can buy purpose-made statues for precisely this use from a variety of sources both on and off line, including from some realtors.

No clue as to how the saint may help home buyers, unless there’s some karmic connection that his statue in your yard attracts exactly the right buyers for this house.

BTW—on this particular Saint Joseph's Day, we're also celebrating former Kleptocrat "economic adviser" Peter Navarro entering prison for ignoring a congressional subpoena WRT the January 6th investigation. SCOTUS yesterday turned down his request to stay pending appeal. Let's hope he's the first of many administration officials involved in the insurrection, going all the way up to the top.

Happy Saint Joseph’s Day to you, Petey. Make lots of new friends.

 

Gratitude Monday: blooms in the air

We’re at that point in Spring where trees and shrubs are beginning to bloom, and it would be both difficult and mean-spirited to not be grateful for that. So—here you go.