Fiddler, on the roof, briefly
First day n back from the beach, the priorities have to be set. In order of occurrence, the kitchen must be unearthed, followed by reactivation of the coffee machine. After the caffeine high has passed, life can progress to other things. Baggage. Recycling. Waking son #3 to help move a ladder outside so I can climb on the roof.
The new shingles were fine. No signs of wear after a month in the hot sun. But my aim was higher. Replace the VHF antenna.
The construction crew had done what they know. Remove owner’s equipment and leave it in an accessible location. In what parallel universe does “on the rooftop” count. Especially when said owner has a deepseated fear of falling. From ladders. From rooftops. From his bicycle, should that occur. Given that I was still riding that caffeine pony, I simply squinted and climbed… and then asked son #3 to do the heavy hauling.
The antenna is now back in place, and a quick check with the analyzer shows reasonable SWR numbers. I’m back on the ground, and I am satisfied.
This afternoon, we convinced the dog to go for yet, another car ride; this time to the local veterinary hospital to complete a sequence of needles started last month. Canine health care comes with costs; if you don’t have deep pockets, skip that puppy cage. An appointment has been made for gender adjustment, and side orders of teeth cleaning and nail trimming are offered. Along with pain relief and psychotropic medication… from where I sit, until the dog requests extra TLC, he’ll make do with knuckle bones from some old sheep.
