Thursday, June 21, 2007
The fan and the pump share one motor...
...in our portable room evaporative cooler. The fan belt is loose, thus the pump is doing a poor job of pumping water up to the top of the pad. I think I've cleaned out the line. The belt is just loose so power has dropped. I should get a replacement with instructions sometime next week. For some reason, though, while the Phoenix metroplex is experiencing some near record heat, it's not been too bad here. Better than tolerable, with the front room a/c during the day and half cooling power from the evaporative cooler. It's been very dry, lately, so is cools significantly from sundown on. It's during this time that our increased elevation just from downtown Prescott drops the temperature. I guess the thing is, we don't have an urban heat island effect up here, thank the gods.
Everyone comments on how "nice" this house is, how nice its lay on its land is. The electrician fell in love with the property immediately. Everyone does. There is something peculiarly beta about this place, right here.
I've been tardy in visiting...forgive me. It's been busy here. I'm surprised I've found time to write here, but I've sought time to write here to the exclusion of other things, lately.
The second to the last part of Carol O'Dell's book is a description of her mother's death. I'm looking forward to this. I have imagined my mother's death and its effect on me, my mother and everyone I know. Mom has only vaguely imagined her death. Although I possess books, about which I've intro-written here, about death, aging and death, etc., I haven't read them. I've scanned them all, though. It's a matter of time clashing with timelessness...
Maybe I can get a short nap in before Mom awakens from her's...
...maybe not, though, considering how much caffeine is sloshing through me...
...later...
Everyone comments on how "nice" this house is, how nice its lay on its land is. The electrician fell in love with the property immediately. Everyone does. There is something peculiarly beta about this place, right here.
I've been tardy in visiting...forgive me. It's been busy here. I'm surprised I've found time to write here, but I've sought time to write here to the exclusion of other things, lately.
The second to the last part of Carol O'Dell's book is a description of her mother's death. I'm looking forward to this. I have imagined my mother's death and its effect on me, my mother and everyone I know. Mom has only vaguely imagined her death. Although I possess books, about which I've intro-written here, about death, aging and death, etc., I haven't read them. I've scanned them all, though. It's a matter of time clashing with timelessness...
Maybe I can get a short nap in before Mom awakens from her's...
...maybe not, though, considering how much caffeine is sloshing through me...
...later...
