Helga Gets Greased Up and the Old Man Goes to Sea

Wowee, what a day! Uganda is riveted, which is good. It has skyrocketed to my number one foreign country, with six visits. It is still a somewhat distant second to the US with 768, but kicking the pants off lowly Japan, which still only has one visit. Maybe some day I could go to Uganda for a book tour.

I think someone heard me yesterday when I hoped it wouldn't get any colder, so they made it colder. It is 24 below right now (-31.1 for everybody else), and it stings. I went for a ski and had a smashing time. I pretty much went for a run with some skis strapped on my feet because that was the only way to stay warm. I thought 24 below was a great excuse to hang out indoors, start boozing too early and read another crappy mystery novel by a marginal author (John Sandford, sir, I have read your books, and they are simply inexcusable. You are like the Spice Girls in book form for old people, and I will use your written pages for toilet paper), but Sancho does not give a damn what the temperature is. He is a giant rabbit with energy to burn, and he will make your life hell if you don't help him do it. So I had to go help him do it. Also, his beard gets really nasty after he drinks water, and he kept sticking it all up in my business.

Right off the bat he saw a rabbit and he almost caught it too. It made it to the woods in time, and, well, Sancho is like a muscle car: He's great in a straight line, but if he needs to turn he is going to tip over.

On the way back I was so riled up from all the talk of the machines yesterday that I decided that Sancho and I were going to play on the loader. Sancho didn't like it much.

HAHA SHMEE, YOU DISGUSTING FURRY ANTELOPE! PAN WILL NEVER ESCAPE THE DEATH RAY!

I thought I would be proactive and go change Helga's oil. No problem, I thought, I have changed many a machine's oil before. Why, I've done it on every one of the big ones around here, and my truck, and even Helga's once. No problem! I'm just gonna switch on the old mental autopilot and grind this one little chore right out! So I drained it, replaced the filter, and started to fill again.

Two GALLONS of oil later, I was thinking that something wasn't right. Oh, yeah, must be that there is no way a generator takes TWO GALLONS of oil. So I called my dad. He sighed, told me you don't fill the damn reservoir all the way full, you check it with the dipstick, and now the thing was WAY too full of oil and I need to go drain it. (In one hand he holds the phone, calmly explaining what I have done wrong. In the other hand he feels the fishing line, taught around his back and clamped underneath his foot. This is his third day being pulled by the fish. It is the biggest fish he has ever seen, that anyone has ever seen. It shows no sign of tiring. His unlucky streak has been going on such a long time he has almost forgotten what it is like to have a fish, but he can never forget. He must keep his focus, he must stay strong. A flying fish lies partially eaten by his side. He is not hungry, but he takes a bite to keep his strength. The fish has towed him far out to sea, but he is not worried. He will hoist his little sail until he sees the lights of Havana, and then make his way up the coast. If the sharks don't come, that is.)

After a very long half hour of draining Helga she is back in the realm of normalcy. When I checked the dipstick the first time oil came spilling out of the dipstick spout. Maybe just a teency weency bit too much. About a gallon too much. At this very moment she is purring away in the distance and I have all the lights on just because I can. MWAHAHAHAHA.

Skylar is making a comeback! He's got a hat, one hand, and a schnoz. He wanted eyes and a mouth, but I got cold, and he is the consistency of bulletproof right now, so things don't stick to him too well. I told him I thought his hat looked Russian, but he got angry with me. Yelled something about his family being Polish, and proud of it or something weird like that. His voice gets muffled since he has no mouth to speak with.

 And the moon, that glorious moon, is out all day. The stupid sun only grazes the horizon to the south for a couple hours and then goes down, but the wonderful moon comes up early and stays out late.