Something happens when life doth spring forth from the belly of the Mother; and to be honest it doesn’t happen overnight.
Nevertheless the creeper takes control.
Yes, garage space disappears at a rate so fast it makes blazing, sexy race motorcycles look like my old Voltron Big Wheels of years gone bye.
Now that the KTM project is done (fingers crossed and more of that write up to come) and my baby clucker chicken heads are out in their coop I need to get The Hotness back to parking inside the comfort of the garage. Sugar melts when it gets wet, y’all.
Long story short, life springs forth and there isn’t room for shit in the garage. Eight car garage, you say? Doesn’t matter. Offspring take up that space so quickly your head will spin. Every time I head out to make room and clean up it seems like more room just disappears into the ether. Ghosts of girlfriends past and whatnot.
Love the fruit of my loins and all but, shit, give ol’ Papa Bear some space for his tools and toys, yo.
The Kenmore Elite range done took a fat dumper on the kitchen floor and just didn’t feel like holding temperature anymore. The control board doesn’t really seem to be the issue for a couple reasons so I went ahead and replaced the temperature probes.
What’s that? You don’t wanna crack open your range? Fret not, ladies and gents, for the Modern Man will guide you through.
Clearly, my write up is for an electric range because that’s what my rural home has up in it’s guts but pay attention now as it really is quite easy.
Step 1: Don’t be a bitch.
Step 2: Look up an exploded parts diagram for your make and model of appliance. It’s a great way to see what parts are in the mix and how they fit into the grand scheme of things.
Step 3: Get you an account-abili-buddy.
Step 4: Pull that range out of it’s cubby and into the open. Let her breathe that fresh air and don’t forget to unplug her when she least expects it.
Step 6: Find a good home for the screws.
Step 7: Assess the situation.
Step 8: Allow the Kitty Inspector General to assess your progress so you don’t make any mistakes.
Step 9: Reverse the probe removal scenario. Fish the probe’s electrical connection through the hole in the back of the range and install the two screws to hold her in place. Then reconnect the probe into the main wiring harness.
Step 10: Reinstall the cheap ass stamped cover on the rear of the range.
Step 11: Inspection and Reinsertion
Step 12: Wait, you want to test out your work already? Hold up, son. Kitty Inspector General Ruby noticed the glass in the doors wasn’t up to snuff. Better get on that.
Step 13: Test and calibrate your range as necessary and laid out in your manual.
Step 14: Blaze that blunt. Or crack that beer. Unless you done messed up and replaced the wrong parts then your job is done. Kick it with your kitty and make something delicious.
If there is one thing this mild winter has been good for it is garage nights and maintenance. The KTM has never been torn down and I am the third owner since 2005. Based on everything I have seen to date the two dudes before me took care of her but seemingly didn’t go much farther with maintenance beyond standard oil changes. Now, I’ve never torn a motor down before but decided to go for it because not only was she due but it would be a learning experience as well.
With liquid courage coursing through my veins I decided to get the ball rolling and I have to say it escalated quickly. The project is probably half way through and a full write up will come shortly.
Everyone has their damn demons and maybe I’m not as good about overcoming them as others but a funk cloud has been settled around me for a little while now. I don’t think I’m an unhappy person. I don’t think I have a bad life. I have a wife, son, friends, family, house, car, food, animals, etc., and I have hobbies that I enjoy.
So what gives?
My relationship with my dad bugs the fuck out of me but I don’t think that’s why I feel how I do (but it does have an affect on me). Maybe I’m starting to realize that the family ideals that were taught to me when I was young aren’t always real.
Is blood thicker than water? Sometimes yes and sometimes no, I suppose. Sometimes I think it is hard for me to be a dad and husband because I don’t know how. When you grow up thinking some things are normal and don’t know otherwise it wrecks your shit up when it dawns that what you knew was a turd sandwich.
I love my son. I love my wife. And while I don’t have an issue telling them both daily how much I care I have to admit that sometimes I am hurt when I feel like I’m their last thought. Is that fair of me? I don’t know but at the end of the day I know I’m not their last thought. And maybe I put a little too much emphasis on the wrong syllable but maybe again I’m just trying to find out how to be the best I can be. Maybe I don’t know what it feels like to be good enough.
Expectations can be a big kick in the dick when they’re rooted in what you think is solid ground but really they’re planted in the mudslide of a post hurricane apocalypse.
And maybe that’s what I’m dealing with?
I want to let go of what I grew up knowing as truth.
But it’s hard because I don’t know what shit really is like.
Well, the last month has flown by but ol’ Ruby Toots has made her place in our home. In her last episode I was sad to state that Ollie wasn’t very receptive but Ruby sure has started to win her over. Naps are being experienced on the same couch and hiss festivals subside into sniff bonanzas so I think we have rounded the corner.
Cooper is still trying to figure out what Ruby’s deal is as one minute she is curling up on his tail to snooze and the other she runs full tilt and jumps into his snout, side, or rear end. He entered our family as a puppy and the smallest so he isn’t accustomed to a young’un going full spazz mode on him.
She is still learning how to interact with us and I think my mission to be her favorite is going well. She’s inquisitive and goofy, too. I admit that I’m an animal lover at baseline but this damn cat won me over on day one. She’s funny as hell.
Alright, so my goal of a song per month might be a bit harder than I thought. I’m slogging along one bit at a time but it’s like I’m trying to piece together a 500 piece puzzle with 1000 pieces in the box. Thankfully my guitar teacher is the Six String Oracle and no question goes unanswered. On that note, I’m pumped to have a lesson tomorrow.
Lyrics are somewhat a bit of a different story. I’ve been into writing for a while but writing specifically for a riff is different. I’ve got a bunch of fodder for the lyrics cannon (#lyricscannon) but when I come up with some words I second guess it. Who in the hell wants to hear what I have to say let alone what I have been through? I guess the moral of the scenario is just not to give a rip about it.
Put your balls out there and let the others decide if they want to smack ’em with a hammer or put ’em in their mouth (#puteminyourmouth).