Ring Out, Our Savior's Love

We sang this hymn as an opener at church today, and I love it. The message and the tune are so sweet and simple. Though I enjoy a challenging song, it's often very nice to slip into a hymn that fits as nice as the cream-colored sweater I've had for years and have to be pried out of it almost every Sunday.

But today I learned -- and I love learning about the writers and tunesmiths used in the hymnal -- that "Our Savior's Love," the tune, was composed by Crawford Gates, the same guy responsible for the LDS tune to "Ring Out Wild Bells," which at best incites a lot of controversy in the church and at worst is loathed by many members to the point they simply don't sing it.

Now for me, I love the tune to "Ring Out, Wild Bells" to the same degree that I love the tune to "Our Savior's Love," so the connection between the two songs is fun.

Oddly enough, it's hard to find a YouTube video of the song as Gates composed it. The most popular ones by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir use a different, much less interesting tune.

But thank heaven for the Crofts Family:

It's a challenging song to sing, and one that's typically a miss when we sing it. It's Like "That Little Light of Mine," meant to be a gospel spiritual, not one sung by a staid choir or congregation. But that song, just like Gates' version of "Ring Out Wild Bells," is beautiful and touching in the right setting.

Progress for both Bathroom and Dog

I really need to get this bathroom remodel done because in my Facebook memories I'm starting to see one-year anniversaries of past prep work in the bathroom, including the $1,600 job I had to farm out to the professionals.

That's a long time to be without a basement bathroom, though we do have three others to choose from.

Good news is another few courses of tile and I'll have that wall done and can move on to finishing the tub enclosure. Then it'll be a lot of cleanup and setting the sink and toilet in place.

I'm a little irked that the pedestal sink doesn't meet the wall at a 90 degree angle, but in researching the problem online, it seems that's not an uncommon problem. Part of it might be due to the fact the sink is one we found at a thrift store and the bowl may have been attached crookedly to begin with. So I'll keep experimenting with that and seeing what I can do to make things right.

I had hoped to get more done, but I also had to spend some time babysitting/sitting with Dottie, who hopefully has a better night tonight than she did last night, where she woke us all up at 1:30 am crying. Poor little thing.

Crash and Burn

Last night, our weenie dog Dottie crashed and burned going down the stairs.

Had she waited five seconds, I would have had her in my arms to carry her down the stairs as we always do, but no, Dad was taking too long.

Hit the landing and started crying. Picked up the shattered remains and she didn't want to be touched and tried to bite me.

Nevertheless we manhandled her, got a compression bandage and a splint on her right front leg, and prepared to have a long night with her before we could get her to the vet in the morning.

That meant, of course, Dad sleeping on the couch with her in his lap because that's what you do. Dressed in your plaid shirt and jeans, belt and all.

She slept peacefully.

At 4 am, I took the dogs outside to use the potty. The bandage and splint came off during the night - it's ridiculously hard to bandage and splint a wiry weenie dog.

She's a little gimpy - slightly more gimpy than usual - but doesn't seem to be seriously hurt, even after a thorough poking of both front legs by our daughter at about 7:30 am.

Napping now because that's what she does every morning.

I may need a nap myself. That took a lot out of me.

Update: Vet gave Dottie a good bill of health, considering. He said her motor function looks good, and she was moving around a lot more while there, partly due to the adrenaline. But she's on doggie painkillers now, and hopefully on the mend.

Geniuses in Charge

The Idaho state legislature loves making noise about "unfunded mandates" whether they come from the federal government or from ballot initiatives approved by voters.

It seems, though, they have no problem with such things if they create them.

Peep at this from the Idaho Capital Sun, regarding legislative mandates to cut budgets because in part the state cut taxes to make the rich folks happy:

Saving $210,000 but having to spend $3.5 million as a result of the savings? Genius move by the legislature.

Into the Abyss . . .

 

First policeman: Is he all right?

Second policeman: Says the Ty-d-Bol is irritating his buttocks.

First policeman: Hang up.

The little notes help me remember what I forget.

The humor helps me retain the tattered remains of my sanity.

"They're not the Lunatics, it's Us."

 

I hear a lot these days that if I agree with something, I must, naturally, completely disagree with the things that is diametrically opposite of what I agree with.

Maybe in some cases that's true.

But in the vast majority of cases, it's not.

I like to think I have an open mind. I'll listen to others and try to understand their point of view. Because while I may be certain of some things, I readily concede I'm ignorant of others. And there's a good chance on many things that the lunatic in the situation is me.

But of the many things I'm certain of, I do know this: It doesn't have to be us vs. them.

Because that's what Satan wants. Division. He doesn't really care what we're divided about, as long as we're divided. And the more things he can find that divide us, the happier he is because he wants us to be miserable like unto himself.

And while I'm coming into this from a Christian point of view, I refuse to believe that other religions and non-religions don't teach the same thing: That we as people on this planet have far more in common than what divides us, and if we can find common ground and agree to get along and understand the differences between ourselves and look at those differences as differences, not gulfs, we'd all be a lot better off.

So in the vast majority of the culture wars we see these days, I refuse to participate, because at the foundation of it all, I know who wants me to choose a side in arguments that don't really matter.

$65 Dollar Hole

 

That's a $65 hole in the tile and I only had to cut it twice, but I did it myself. And it was not as nerve-wracking as I expected it would be.

Now I just have to convince my wife that I can amortize the cost of that diamond bit set over several projects . . .

But as a friend pointed out on Facebook: Tool math.

Also: While Future Tiling Me understands why Past Tiling Me leaves the thinset bucket all gunked up because it's "easier" to clean up dry thinset than wet thinset, sometimes Future Tiling Me thinks Past Tiling Me is a bit of a jerk.

The Pink Pages

I'm watching a documentary on the Apollo 13 mission, focusing on the famous accident that nearly brought the mission to an end. There's little narration; they're just following along with the actual radio transmissions between Houston and Odyssey, with text. I'm loving it.

This part, about 45 minutes in, piqued my interest. They mention "Go[ing] to your GNC checklist, the pink pages," for one of their emergency power procedures.

In my early days at the RWMC, I was the writer in charge of the emergency alarm response procedures. When they were revised and placed in the Operations binders, they were indeed printed on pink paper. It's been a good decade since I was in Operations space out there, so I have no idea if that's still the practice there. But it would be interesting to know. Maybe I should put in for a transfer back out there.

Best Service by Friendly Staff

I love finding bookmarks people leave in the used books I buy. This has long been my favorite, from the New Merry Guest House in Bangkok, Thailand.

It came to me in a copy of Richard Adams' "Watership Down," clearly left there by a human who went on adventures or at least thought the business card would be a good bookmark.

Of course, back in the late '80s early '90s, discovering whether such a business still existed in a faraway country was nigh on impossible unless I wanted to make a phone call, but late '80s early '90s me was even less likely to make such a call than the me that exists currently.

So I turned to Google Maps.

The address itself, 18-20Phra Athit Rd, does indeed exist, and judging by the nearby river and the proximity of the Chana Songkram Temple, I do appear to have the right place.

And it looks like it's still a guest house, though under a different name:

The temple mentioned on the card if, of course, still there:

As is the bank, albeit under a different name:

So if I ever visit Thailand, I'll be strongly tempted to use this particular hotel to stay in, cause I feel like I already know it. All thanks to a guy who left the business card in a book he discarderd.

New Light. Big Difference.

We've had for a long time in the basement hallway a really ugly-looking light fixture attached to the wall.

Why the wall? Well, there are furnace ducts in the ceiling, so putting a light there would have meant the taller inhabitants of the house would have bumped their heads on a dangling fixture.

But we've wanted to get rid of it since we bought the house. This past weekend, with son-in-law Keaton's help, we got it done.

The new light is clearly functional, not a thing of beauty, but it does get the light where we want it and gets the old fixture off the wall.

Michelle isn't a fan of the plate covering the old fixture box, but that's what we had to do since there's an electric connection in the box, feeding power to the new light and linking to the light switches.

I still have a lot of holes to fill in from the cat6 cable project, but having the light there really took a worry out of the worry box for me. And filled in one of the ceiling holes.