Antenna packer
Six years ago, after careful planning, I installed a new vertical antenna. HF bands, with a full set of radials. And today, with careful planning (for an eventual reinstallation), the process was reversed. No bolts jammed or broken. Nothing in need of replacement. Six years of Canadian weather…
In fact, there were even suitable boxes on hand for the repack. Colour me contented.
The temperature made it up to 25C, three days in a row. Perfect conditions for “taking down” other stuff. The BBQ: curbed. The gazebo with the loose joints: curbed. The security grills from the original house windows: curbed. All that remains is the anonymous truck that gathers scrap metal. Should be along, real soon now. I’ve never figured out how they know that stuff is out by the curb. Are there teams of spotters? Do they drive around with hopeful expressions? Little matter.
Watched Tout Le Monde En Parle this evening, just in case. Among the scheduled guests: Taylor Swift. You know when a bird from another part of the planet is spotted in your neighbourhood? Same feeling. Actually, she carried off the (translated) interview with remarkable aplomb. And a touch of wit.
If someone should ask me “What symbolizes your new vocation (not vacation)”, there’s a simple image. I can allow myself to have an evening cup of coffee. The risk of insomnia no longer leaves me terrified. Ditto for the idea of watching a late(r) movies. My alarm clock is retired. The habit of rising before dawn may take time to weaken, but the bus can pass the stop without my instinctive urge to “get on board”.
