Omens

Weather and scheduling have conspired to keep our lawn un-cut for a couple weeks. It was approaching the point where I wanted to hire a couple gun bearers with machetes to get a start on it.

We got a break in the weather last week and I headed out to mow. Fired up the mower, started around the edge of the yard, and when I tried to turn at the end, the mower didn't turn quite right. I looked down and was greeted by the sight of the right-front tire going *flap-flap-flap* ... Limped it back to the shed, backed it in, and started arguing with it.

Got out the hi-lift jack and raised up the front end - after convincing the jack to work, which took some careful application of expletives and WD-40. Pulled the hub covers - and found that the front wheels are help on by snap rings. I have no snap-ring pliers, so I tried needle-nose pliers instead. No luck. By this point I was tired and out of time to play with the tractor, so I left it up in the air and called it quits for the day.

The next day I ran into my neighbor and borrowed a couple of awls to try peeling apart the snap rings. No joy. Finally gave in and went to Tractor Supply and bought snap-ring pliers. Took those home and broke two of the four included tips getting the two wheels off. After all that was done, anyone who had the tires in stock or could mount them was closed for the day.

Fast forward to Monday. Went back to TSC, bought a pair of front tires, took the tires and wheels to Goodyear for mounting. Eventually got them back - apparently there is only one guy there who does tractor tires, and he was late for work. Took them home and put them on the tractor, and started to mow. With an interruption for a friend dropping by to pick up some things, I got about half the yard done before it was getting dark and chilly.

Tuesday morning, I headed out to mow late morning. I made two or three circuits around the yard and the mower deck started squealing. Shut it off, backed up, started it again, and it seemed to be ok. Finished the row, made the turn - and the noise changed. No longer cutting grass... turned the PTO off and on. It's disengaging and engaging, but the mower deck isn't turning. Shut off the tractor, look underneath. The mower deck has eaten its secondary belt. Lovely.

Drive up to the garage, swearing the whole time, and park the mower in there so I can pull the deck. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I got the deck off (SIX attachment points??), and made some phone calls. Since it was off anyways, I cleaned out the accumulated crap, and put on the new blades I'd picked up over the weekend - and found that part of the reason it was cutting so poorly. Someone had installed two of the three blades upside down, so they were "cutting" with the blunt edge.

I ended up taking the whole deck to the Deere dealer (45 minutes away), where they got me the right belt (and a spare), a spare PTO belt, and I decided that since I had the mower torn apart anyways, I might as well go whole-hog... so I got a new air filter and new oil filter. Stopped at the Mart of Wal on the way home and got a jug of oil.

Got home, finished draining the oil pan, pulled the old filter, pulled the air filter, and replaced things as appropriate. Got the new belt on the mower deck, but haven't put it under the tractor yet.

Tried to start the tractor... and the low-oil light comes on, and the thing won't turn over. At all.

I spent another hour or so futzing around with and swearing at it, and got nowhere. My google-fu is weak, so I turned to the #GBC gang for ideas... I've got some things to try tomorrow, and if that doesn't get me anywhere, I may just drag the thing out to the range for target practice...

Digital Interruptions

Communist News Network had a short entry up today: Texting during sex? Some say it's OK

One in ten people under 25 wouldn't mind being interrupted by a text during sex. It's about one in twenty for those over 25.

Maybe I'm a curmudgeon, but I find text messages to be an incredibly convenient and occasionally very obnoxious method of communication. I do text - a lot. I've got this fancy-ass smart phone that lets me text, IM, email, etc etc etc, and it's great. But texting, like everything, has a time and place.

Somewhere along the way, we need to teach our kids etiquette about these things. The classroom, the dinner table ... not acceptable. When they're older - the bedroom? Are you kidding me?

The bedroom is for TWO things: sleeping and sexing. MrsZ and I don't have a TV in the bedroom, we don't have "serious" talks in bed, and there's almost no cell coverage in there so texting is out of the question... and you know what? That's the way it should be. Bedrooms are sanctuary. A quiet place.

I find MrsZ receiving and answering text messages during a face-to-face conversation mildly annoying. Either talk to me or talk to them. If she (or, in my pre-married days, any other woman) thinks a text message is so important as to interrupt intimacy... time to pull the eject handle, baby. I'll be downstairs playing video games.

Morning Miscellany

Stopped at the Mart of Wal on the way home from work this morning. Initially it was for a can of spray paint (marking tools prior to a work party at the range this weekend), but decided to check the ammo cabinets while I was there.

I've been through a few times in the past couple weeks, and either the supply and demand curves have crossed again, or the price-point has risen just enough to keep some on the shelves. Every time I've been there, there's been .25, .32, 9mm, .40, .44Mag, .45, .223, and bulk .22LR. I've managed to leave it there until today. A box of .44Mag ($33) and two bricks of Federal .22 ($19/ea) came home with me. I was sorely tempted to buy a couple boxes of RWS 124gr 9mm ($13) or one of the value-packs of 115gr WWB ($23) - but then I remembered how much 9mm is on the shelf at home and managed to leave it there. If I need more this year, I'll look for a good price on Wolf or similar.

About a mile from home I crested a small rise in the road and saw a couple small furry somethings (cat-size) playing on the side of the road a bit ahead. Right size for cats but moving wrong. Too tall for woodchucks and they don't move in threes. Slowed down, got closer. It was beautiful red fox and two kits! They ducked into the deep grass along the road as I pulled past them, but one of the kits stopped and looked back at me as I drove by. Pretty animals...

Chicken Curry

Simple dish, tasty and filling.

1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 large onions, halved and sliced
2 chicken breasts, cut in bite-size pieces
1 quart diced tomatoes
curry powder
olive oil

In a large skillet over medium-high heat, heat the olive oil. Add the garlic and lightly brown. Add the onions and saute until just translucent. Add the chicken and reduce heat to medium. When the chicken is cooked through, add tomatoes, return to simmer. Add curry to taste (2-3 tablespoons is ideal). Stir well.

Simmer over medium heat until liquid is reduced to light gravy consistency.

Serve over rice.

Multi-tas- Ooh, shiny!

I'm well aware that Ambulance Driver hates his dipshi... er ... dispatchers. Based on what he says, with good cause - but they are working within the guidelines of their corporate environment, and that may be causing some problems.

But that's not the point of this entry!

I am a 911 dispatcher. I like to believe I'm a pretty fair dispatcher. Not "great", just "pretty fair", which translates in my mind to "a hair above average without being exceptional". Modest, immodest, it doesn't matter. I show up for work, do my shift to the best of my ability, and leave my headset hanging on the wall when I go home at the end of the day.

Some days are better than others, and what makes a "good day" in dispatch varies tremendously. Some shifts I'll come in the door tired and out of sorts, and hope for a calm shift that will allow me to read the news, play some Spider Solitaire, maybe half-watch something on Discovery or History Channel. Other days, a "good shift" is defined by a structure fire that runs well, or giving good pre-arrival instructions and ending up with a save. Or a police call that just works out *right*.

Regardless of what makes for a good day, some parts of the job never change. Our center is small enough that it is often possible to be at least peripherally aware of what is happening with ALL the agencies in the county. Perhaps not the details of each incident, but at least a rough idea of where things stand.

The corollary to that, of course, is that I need to be one-hundred-percent aware of what's going on at MY console. I need to know what's been assigned, what's pending, prioritize the pending, reassign/redirect as necessary, and keep a loose idea of where each unit is along with their status.

I try. We all do. Some do better than others, but every one of us - every single one - has a tipping point. That one last radio call or incident that brings the whole house of cards crashing down in a jumbled mess. It's not a pretty picture, and the recovery from it is even harder - because the calls *don't stop coming in*.

Picture, if you will, a waiter carrying a tray full of glasses at a black-tie cocktail party. Mingling through the crowd, and as he walks along, people are taking full glasses away and putting empty ones back. Things are going well, the party is a pleasant affair... and then someone puts a glass on the tray when the waiter isn't looking, and the balance is gone. Maybe the waiter starts to catch it and fumbles, or maybe he doesn't realize it's off balance until the first glass hits the floor. Either way, there's a hell of a mess.

Cleaning up that mess is easy - set down the tray, get a broom and dustpan, and sweep things up and carry on. But that's where our metaphor starts to fall apart. Our waiter, instead of setting down the tray and cleaning up the mess, has to get the broken glasses back on the tray in one piece, while still mingling and passing out drinks and having empties put back. Not a pretty picture, is it? In fact, darn near impossible?

I have been faced more than once with the dispatch equivalent. Eventually the "party" winds down and it's possible to get things back to an even keel, but in the meantime, all the party-goers are standing around grumbling about the clumsy waiter.

Every dispatcher has their own "tray" and ability to balance it. My question - prompted by some recent events - is this:
Is it possible to effectively train someone to a greater level of situation awareness/multi-tasking?

I.e., can they be trained to carry a bigger tray?

Any thoughts are appreciated.