Texas Toast!

What a difference a day/good referral/real plumber makes! I assume you can tell by the title that we have just used our new oven for the first time. Because of course you've been following this, right?

We had been told we needed to get our gas company out here to verify the soundness of, or replace our gas line. First thing this morning - not in Heather terms but in business terms, I contacted our gas company. The 35 minute wait for my callback lasted 55. After explaining what the previous would-be installer had said, the gas company said they didn't do that. They'll still check everything after we return from vacation and get gas turned on again. They'll check a gas leak as indicated by the lovely smell of mercaptan wafting through the house. Anything else, contact a plumber. They could make a referral? I agreed to be transferred to another line for that, and promptly got disconnected.

After everything else, I wasn't the least surprised.

I knew our homeowners association offers referrals to various people in trades useful for maintaining/improving our properties, so I called them. I was given two. The first got voicemail, with a call returned nearly two hours later. The second was immediately answered, an appointment set up for next Monday. As soon as I hung up, she called back and asked if I would rather have somebody immediately? Someone had just become available. 

Well hell yes! (More politely of course.) Joe duly arrived, got shown/told the issues, and hooked us up, tested the oven, and completed the installation other than the part where screws go into the wall. There were two issues. Because of course there were. First, the second nipple was the wrong kind, despite what we had been told by the most previous guy. Joe had the right part in his truck, and installed it. 

The second issue requires carpentry, but not enough to keep us from using the oven. It seems that the old stove had an open space at the bottom of the back panel. The gas piping extends from the wall out into the space the oven sits in, but that opening allowed the old oven to slide around it fully to the back of the opening. The new oven doesn't have that cutout, and thus sits an inch further forward into the kitchen. We will need a framework about an inch deep built around the opening, plus longer screws, so that the oven is firmly fastened to - eventually - something connected to the wall. It's not going anywhere where it sits, and was pronounced fully usable before Joe left.

Rich says no problem making a framework to fit. He's got a friend with the wood whom he swaps favors with, and Rich also happens to have a supply of much longer screws than came with the oven.

Meanwhile Steve's ears perked up with the news that we have an oven, and as soon as the kitchen cleared, started it up.

The toast is delicious. Maybe he'll also bake that cake from the box which has been sitting on the counter since last spring, today for Rich's birthday?

And Joe, plus his company, got high marks from us, including to the homeowners association. Wayfair, on the other hand, got a voicemail letting them know we'd gotten the job done without the company they hired down here to do the work, even though they "guarantee installation" at the extra cost we'd already paid for. I suspect the three visits that company paid us more than cost Wayfair that installation charge to us.

No Texas Toast Yet ...And Other Issues Of Course

Oy! The oven saga continues. 

We got a competent professional out to work on the oven install today. Turns out, if we'd had somebody before who knew what he was doing, and knew what we lacked, it'd be working today. We could have fixed those issues.

First, we needed another nipple, this time double male 1/2 inch. Today's guy was kind enough to wait a few minutes while I called the closest hardware store (Ace - and why didn't we start there anyway?) to establish they had one, and then he waited another ten minutes while I drove over to pick it up. Ace was thoughtful enough to have it up at the front counter as I walked in! 

But there were still two more issues he found insurmountable. It's what you get when a professional worries about losing his license, because you finally got a professional who know what he's not got to work with/on. First, plugging the stove into a short extension cord just doesn't cut it. 

Note previous look-it-up-on-you-tube guy found that just fine, thank you. But we need a new circuit box behind the oven, standard up-to-code wiring going through the studs, etc., etc. Fortunately, we know a guy, one of Rich's many friends. He'll even provide parts and do the job for free, out of friendship. What's that, another couple hundred dollars saved?

Can't do that for the next bit, but it may not cost anyway. We need to get the gas people out to check the gas line as it comes across after leaving the stove top. They didn't check it because they'd already shut it off once they condemned the old oven due to internal heat damage. So we need them back out to see if the line leaks or not, before our professional (or any professional) will hook up our gas.

Steve said he couldn't decide whether to cuss or cry at this latest delay. He did make a choice, and I didn't see a single tear. I just started planning what needed to be done and when, whom to contact, how to get parts, etc. As for not getting Texas toast yet, well, I simply don't have an appetite at the moment. Stomach is kind of knotted. Small expenses I can handle at the moment, but any large purchase needs to wait for my replacement credit card to arrive.  I was assured via email this morning that it has been shipped (really? only just now?) and should arrive in October.

Of course, if I could order what I needed online, I'm good to go. Unlike Steve, whose card number got stolen and needed a new card, mine is just needing a new physical card, same number. I used it two days ago to order a replacement Kindle after Paul finally read my email messages and/or listened to my voice mails begging him to check a few places to see if it was still sitting in any of them. It wasn't. So now I have a new one, delivered today.

Of course I can't use it. 

First there was the issue of getting it connected to wi-fi. It stuck on the screen with the tab telling you to connect to wi-fi. I got the tab to go black, but it would pop right back to white, telling me I needed to connect with wi-fi. Half an hour later, once I finally figured out how to connect with an actual human through Amazon who could talk me through it. Turns out shutting it off and restarting got me to the next screen. Then I had problems entering the password correctly. Back when, we got really cutesy with what it is, and it took me umpteen tries to get through the changing screens of lower and uppercase letters, numbers and symbols. Once I finally thought I had it entered correctly, nope. Uh-uh. Rich stepped in, typed it in in about 5 seconds, perhaps 6, and I had a wi-fi connection. Now they needed my Amazon password to sync up to my old kindle. Again, I'd gotten a little too cutesy with how I listed my password on my list of different passwords for everybody in the universe who needs me to provide one. I kept coming up with no, not this either. Lucky they don't cut you off after 3 tries like my bank would. Amazon logs me in with my password displayed as a series of dots. I had to count them - try that sometime! - to figure out just what would fit that space so my confusing clue made sense. Then it tells me it's downloaded my 1587 or so books, and runs me through a set of screens to "show me" how to navigate the Kindle. Rather, how to buy more stuff and services from Amazon. Nope, not in this lifetime.

Still one problem, of course. Or at least one I know about at this point. My old kindle organized my books first by dividing into unread or read, the read ones having been sent to archives, saved as a link for minimized storage and easy retrieval, so long as there's a wi-fi one can connect to. Within each section they were filed alphabetically by author. All was text, no pictures. Just how I know to communicate. This new one shows me about 6 pictures per page of stuff they somehow think I want to read right now, might I choose one to start with? NO NO NO NO NEVER! I want to see lists of titles, not pictures. This isn't a comic book. Your dang pictures don't have any kind of readable text so I can have any hope of knowing what I might be choosing. I have no way of sorting out the twelve hundred something books I've already read and might want to go back to if I've gotten more in the same series by the same author and really enjoyed them. Or check in a minute whether I already bought a book now sold as a single when it was part of a 1-2-3 starter set. Or 4-5-6. Or however many. Or vice versa. To top it off, no matter how I tap or slide of whatever on what I'm calling the comic book screen, I can't get even a book I'm not interested in right how to open!

Steve has one of these newer Kindles. However, he's taken his frustration with no oven/Texas toast/whatever with him to bed, along with his Kindle, to read and calm down, to sleep, perchance to dream.... I have to wait to ask him how he navigates to where he can set up the device to bypass the comics page and get to a real table of contents. I can't even navigate away from that page no matter what I try to do. So I'm here, blowing off steam. The Kindle is turned off, getting itself a 100% charge. And for some stupid reason, even though I shut it off, it's doing the screen saver thing. So I guess I can't even do that!

Anybody wonder why I hate new technology?

No Brass Balls, But....

...I do have a brass nipple!

I was looking for a steel one, but nobody carries those anymore in stores, apparently. 

What? You're not a plumber? Then maybe I should explain. Remember that gas line connector I needed so we can finally get our new wall oven installed and usable? The exact thing needed, after the Wayfair rep called the manufacturer for the data not in the installation manual, is a double male 1/4 inch nipple. Steel is preferred, according to the internet. I suppose if I wanted to wait for a couple weeks and order one online for three to four times the cost, I could still find one. So-o-o-o not in the mood. So I have a brass nipple. 

It's a metal tube, about 2" long, threaded on both ends on its outside with a hex shape expansion in its center. If that's not clear, Google it. Don't forget the double male part. That means each end fists inside other threaded piping, in case you don't get the "male" part. The "helpful" sales person in the plumbing department at Home Depot either didn't get it or hasn't yet figured out how to hear a female when she requests a specific part that isn't like any other random part anywhere else in the store. He walked me over to a plastic hose, perhaps 7 or 8 foot long, with definite female couplings on each end. He also poo-poohed the quarter inch part, even tough the manufacturer specified that exact size. Good thing he doesn't work on commission.

After arriving home, I went online, located a nearby Lowes, and found an employee there who knew exactly what I was talking about, knew which two spots it might likely be in, and sorted through sizes and male-female and threaded versus other kind of connections, until he located the right brass nipple. The store does have a few steel nipples but in much larger sizes, so no go. I bought it.

I did run into another issue, however, one I've been running into more frequently these last few weeks. The card readers can't read my chip any more. And being chipped, they refused to read my card when I slide it. One "helpful" gal took the card and a piece of cloth and wiped off the chip part, thinking (really? thinking?) that some dust or grease might be the problem. Of course the coating over the chip is thinner now. I can see three shiny thin stripes across it, and if I look really closely in good light, there are teensy bumps under the gold. I've called to get the card replaced. At least I carry a different one, and can order online any time card free.

Those kind of calls are always fun. They always want to send me a text to confirm who I am before sending the new card out. That works about as well on my phone as it would on a landline. After collecting my info, the last 4 of my SS, my address and email number, I got passed upwards to the next one, and then the next one in the chain, who after everybody else's problems with me, simply made sure my mailing address matched my records. Everybody's happy to let me know my balance, my last payment, how much more I can charge. I already know that stuff. I keep track of it several times a week. But after 15 minutes on the phone, it will only take a week or so for the new card to arrive. 

Unless De Joy has screwed the mail system up even more in the meantime.

So now, tomorrow starts the process - 3rd time's a charm? - of having the shipper contact the local installer company while I wait to see if those guys can send out somebody actually competent in hooking up a gas oven properly. And connecting the electrical cord. And adding the trim strip to cover the hole above the oven. And screwing the sides to the cabinet it's sitting in. Oh hey, and maybe even making sure it works!

But now I at least have a brass nipple! Sigh.

I think I need some chocolate.

So... Adam's Back With More Mischief

In the - unfortunately - ongoing saga, it seems that being "green lit" isn't really a thing. Either that or nobody plans to follow through with it. It only took 5 days of lying low before Adam surfaced again, both boldly and sneakily.

Rich had to take a few things to Amanda, stuff he'd been working on for her replacement bike after Adam stole it and - it's believed - sold it for drugs. Possibly why he stole at least one of Rich's bikes too.  Rich and I had had the conversation where he agreed that maintaining that friendship was not the best of ideas, at least not now. He suspects she may be complicit in his craziness, even goading him on and covering up afterwards. Right or wrong, Adam is a danger. Anyway, when Rich arrived at her house, Adam was in her garage, using her welding equipment. He'd gotten there on a mini bike. His truck hasn't been seen since the hit and run, at least so far as we know. Rich dropped the items off by her front door, and by the time he passed the garage again, perhaps 30 seconds later, Adam was gone on his minibike. Rich recognizes the sound.

A few days ago, Adam started passing by our house out on the street on his bike. Sometimes he stops and stares at the house/Rich, whether just taunting or casing the situation, we don't know. Possibly both. But stuff coincidentally has been happening. Rich has a different bike than before the hit and run. (The damaged bike had been fixed to be rideable but - of course - got stolen.) The latest bike mysteriously has its bolts loosened while it sits in the back yard, something that doesn't "just happen". Small things disappear, even some which Rich knows he set down inside the lanai a bit before, and while we are actually in the house! 

Rich mentioned that the gas grill, which we've bought  hamburgers for, suddenly hisses gas when it's connected and ready for use.  While we can't say this is mischief rather than, say, summer sun damage or such, it's just another thing piling on. One with potentially drastic consequences if Rich had worse hearing or sense of smell.

We believe our electrical system has been tampered with at the breaker box, and this morning's project, with the help of one of Rich's friends, has been to trace every outlet in the house to its breaker, check amp load levels, do a better job of labeling each breaker switch, and make a separate chart I can put in the computer for future reference. Labels can get "lost."

This is part of the issue. We found out it may be more complicated - criminally - after we made another decision. Yesterday we decided we needed a security system. Just not one those really expensive ones. After a trip to Home Depot, we got motion sensor spotlights for both carport and patio, as well as a pair of motion sensor cameras that are hidden where it's difficult to know they exist but give good coverage of both patio and lanai. It's a decision not to scare him away but to get proof of his visits and damages. Plus a photo of his face if he's gotten cocky enough to forgo wearing his "mask" - which Rich describes as bondage gear. It was in the process of working on the carport light that Rich discovered a problem, wiring that can no longer be shut down by flipping the breaker and/or turning off the wall switch inside the house. We know it didn't used to be wired like that because we'd replaced that light fixture several years ago. And Rich knows that Adam has mad skills with fixing/tampering with all kinds of things.

This prompted the check of the electrical system, but only of the "new" breaker box. A few years ago our insurance company informed us we needed to upgrade our old breaker box, and send them photos to verify it had been done. $5 grand later (!) it was completed, leaving all the old breakers in place in their old box, then tunneling them through a pipe into the new one and giving each a new breaker switch, along with a whole new breaker for the solar installation which pipes directly into the new box. When Rich went to check both boxes, he discovered that the catch holding the lid on the old box has been tampered with.

Having the kind of ingenuity he does, he went and got an old toner cartridge and a makeup brush, and established that the surface of the box cover does indeed hold recent fingerprints very well. Mostly they will be his. He decided not to work on opening that box until after we notify the cops of the latest issues. That way, if we can persuade them to open the box and fingerprint the inside, any prints they find will both be recent and not belong to any of us. But right now it's more important to verify whether what is currently running current is not likely to be a fire hazard in the house. 

We also know which two houses along the street behind us Adam goes to visit when he's in the neighborhood. Rich can follow the sound of the minibike to where he stops. Starting at the house most directly behind ours ( since they are slightly offset) he can count two to the east and two to the west as places where he hangs out. It's enough to keep Rich paranoid about anything he might be doing out in the yard or even in the lanai being visible to both Adam and his friends. We're not sure whether they are also participating in any of the "mischief" or not, but the hidden cameras should record whatever happens. If we can catch anybody in the house when we are also, like happened yesterday, only now with cameras, somebody is going away for a long time. Here that's an aggravated felony.

Steve is not taking it all that well. It's too much stress with no seeming letup. I can't blame him, too many things to contend with since we returned, and even when they're not "mischief" they just pile on and pile on.  Somehow his credit card number got appropriated last week, and while the bogus charges got canceled or his "card" refused for a large purchase since they didn't have his pin number, he's waiting for his new one before he can spend any money. At least he'd just done a major grocery purchase before it happened. 

This afternoon we might get some hopeful news when I drive him to see the doc who is to do cataract surgery on one eye. It's not as bad as mine got, meaning he's not blind in that eye yet, but it's bad enough to be a handicap and an annoyance. I've reassured him that recovery from the surgery is nearly instantaneous these days, or at least was for me, as well as painless during the procedure. I've also assured him I can handle the copay if his new card isn't here by this afternoon. And we now know the piece we are missing for the gas oven to be connected, so I can swing by and pick one up. Apparently we are responsible for that. The installation company has been emailing back and forth with me and promises they will send out an actual competent person who can work with gas this time. (We'll see.) Some oven-baked Texas Toast will surely make Steve feel better. Me too.

The Latest Excuse

Ever heard of a gas supply hose connector? Neither did the guy who needed one to finish our oven installation. 

It hasn't been a propitious project. After getting the opening widened per the new oven's measurements, we were waiting for somebody - preferably the former guy but really, anybody - to come out and finish the installation. 

We were ready. All the box cardboard is broken down, de-stapled, de-taped, and waiting out in the carport for recycle day to go curbside. The old oven is gone, no charge, even after we contacted our garbage company to haul it away. We were even ready to pay their $40, that is until Steve informed me he'd seen two guys in a red pickup stop, look at the yellow tag, and haul the old oven away. I called the company to find out if by any chance that had been their people (I usually see big trucks), and if not, could I cancel the pick-up and the fee? We got both right answers.

I compiled all the remaining parts on top of the oven, at that point sitting back in front of the entryway closet door, which we still, thank goodness, don't need to get into. The loose veneer around the opening has been glued back in place before the oven partly covers it. That done, I called Wayfair to set up the (next attempt) installation. Everything was in place for Saturday morning, 8-10AM. I was disappointed to find out the previous guy was not the one who'd be coming out. The company which Wayfair contracts with in this area posts the jobs and whoever bids on it first gets it. I left a voicemail heads-up for our previous guy, but he wasn't first.

We were ready before 8. Masks were handy, breakfast eaten, dog fed, watered, and let out for a few, window blinds open to spot the installer coming. We waited, did our things, waited some more. Just before 10 the phone rang. Our installer was running late. When he showed, there were two people in the car, a man and a woman. Hmm? Car trouble, got a ride, enough explanation. Of course, this being Arizona and still very hot, she came in the house too, and once we explained where we were in the installation, she was helpful in picking up the other side of the oven to set it inside the hole. (I wasn't sure this skinny guy had enough muscles!)

It fit!

But...

First the electrical cord didn't reach the outlet. Apparently the old cord came out from the near side and the new one came out from the far side, related to where the outlet was. Luckily Rich was home, had a heavy duty cord 6 foot long, and the expertise and things needed to  convert it to the much shorter length needed. It was perfect. However....

The installer didn't think they'd sent me a gas oven. It must only need the electric connection just made, right? I informed him it was sold as a gas oven, and the previous guy said nothing about it being electric. More checking, and he found the connection in the back of the oven proving it used gas.

Now he needed to connect the gas. 5 minutes max, right? If you know what you're doing. 20 minutes later I asked how it was going. It wasn't. A part was missing. What was the part? He didn't know the name.

But he was on You Tube, researching gas connections. Oh goodie, a guy with experience! With gas! These things usually require a certified gas plumber. One was required when we got the new countertops because our gas stove top sat on it. He was required twice in fact, for the disconnect and the reconnect. And this guy is looking it up on You Tube?

EEP!

Still asking what we were missing, we got an imperfect description of what to look for, something like a metal tube threaded on both ends to fit between two different pieces of hardware (showed me one piece) to connected them together. Further research revealed an actual name: a gas supply hose connector.

A name isn't a help yet. After looking around the house, even through the recyclable box pieces, in all the possible places along with several improbable ones, we decided to quit for the day. We both made some calls. Mine were to Wayfair (out of the office till Monday) and one to the previous installer's voicemail asking if perhaps he had seen it but put it some place we didn't look, or even accidentally took it with him? Maybe he even knew it was missing but hadn't gotten around to saying anything because we'd already run into the won't-fit-the-hole problem?

I can't help but wonder if they are all standard. Could one be picked up at the store? Or is this another case where new technology meets old technology and things don't fit? You know, just like the earlier cord placement.

We won't have any answers for a few days, if then. On the plus side, the oven sits in the hole it will live in for the rest of its usable life. Once. We. Make. It. Usable. I made sure he didn't connect the electricity so nobody makes the mistake of trying to turn it on, even though he offered to. I guess he wanted to feel he'd accomplished something after two hours.  But we have our floor space back at least. If I ever think I need something from the front closet, like a jacket or an umbrella ... oh, nevermind. At least we don't have that particular bottleneck in our walking paths any more... for now. 

I'm getting pessimistic.

So You Want To Be On A Ventilator?

If you're squeamish, pass this one by.

Seriously.

I recently read an article summarizing information from a funeral director on what corpses actually look like after long times spent on ventilators due to covid. Some of what they see during embalming or before cremation completely shocked me, not being something anybody had been talking about. If you're still reading this, you have been warned.

Covid wreaks lots of damage on the whole body. It's why it isn't "just the flu". You've heard about blood clots in major organs. I don't need to describe that here. But it renders lungs essentially non-functional, which is why ventilators are chosen as a treatment, in hopes that the patient can recover. Somehow. And some do. Covid is perhaps unique in that family members are not allowed to visit, and don't see the progressive damage being on a ventilator itself can cause.

Let's start with the fact that many people, like me, are allergic to medical adhesive. It takes tape to hold a ventilator in place. In my case, something other than brief contact with that adhesive raises skin blisters which peel away with the tape as it is removed and changed. (Yeah, been there.) This opens the skin up to pain, of course, and these openings give access to invading bacteria. This means infection, and more pain, particularly as alcohol is what is used to dissolve adhesive residue on the skin, as well as giving some level of defense against germs. But it's not a perfect solution.

Saliva is toxic. Never thought of that? It's the body's first level method of dissolving our food while your teeth grind it up before it heads for the stomach, being slightly acid. Our teeth need super protection to keep it from dissolving holes into them. (Ever had a cavity?) When you are unconscious your body gets turned to help avoid bedsores. Turning has also been shown to make breathing easier, a prime goal in covid patients on ventilators. Some of those positions result in saliva running down over your cheeks, further eating away at your skin. Gangrene can start, eating away at healthy flesh as deeply as to the bone.

If the patient recovers, survival itself is what counts. It far outweighs the damage occurring in long term ventilator use. But whatever else you are dealing with post-hospitalization, post ventilator, along with physical therapy for long unused muscles, and whatever else was the reason for the ventilator in the first place, you will also be dealing with whatever is necessary to correct the damage to your face. 

If it can be repaired.

If you can get healthy enough again to go through what is needed.

It's so much simpler to get vaccinated.