Keto quitter

I used to blame my metabolism for my once youthful physique. Then I got married and realized that my wife's cooking could easily overcome that. I'm far from fat, I just have the exact same protuberance in my midsection that every other male in my family inherits.

Meanwhile, my wife gave me four children.

So she was looking at a change in her diet that would fix that. Many (very many) of our friends and the like have tried this ketogenic diet, and all have shown very favorable results. The trick is you drop carbohydrates way the heck down so your body is forced to switch its power source to fat, hence you're now burning off your fat.

Problem is, I can't really digest that much fat without my gallbladder kicking around. I learned that the hard way after a couple days. The results were... unpleasant.

"Oh, but there are ways to get around that. You can take this supplement, or alter the diet a bit, etc..."

Tried that. Didn't work. The supplements? I experienced every single side effect. Extreme abdominal [issues] and lots of dizziness aren't my idea of a good time. I actually missed work because of how extreme these were.

I'm typing this over a bagel. I'm cheering on my wife from the sidelines.

Solar Panels

Right, so now I steal power from the sun.

I was at the NYS Fair (back in 2016...) with the wife when I saw a guy at a booth selling these things. I've long had an interest in stealing power from a fusion generator that lives 93 million miles away, so I simply approached him and said: "Tell me everything"

And he did.

After a few months of back and forth (engineers, design approval, permits, regulations, financing, blah blah blah), we were finally able to stick a bunch on my roof. Unfortunately, my house has a rather small footprint. I wanted a massive array focusing gigawatts of solar radiation into my air conditioner. I got seventeen 320 watt panels instead. I'm not thrilled with the limits, but every month from the day it was installed until August we generated a surplus. (The A in August stands for air conditioning)

The difference in my power bill is, on average, equal or greater than the cost of the panels.

For years, and even when living in Buffalo, we would get people going door to door trying to sell themselves as middlemen to our electric utility. ("We want to make sure you're getting all your discounts. We just need to see your electric bill") These "people" would be aggressive and annoying, then act as if you've wasted *their* time when you send them packing. Since I had these photovoltaic beauties on display, I feel somewhat ignored.

Now if only it worked on the clowns selling Hyla.

The great (temporary) thaw

So last week it was incredibly cold. The kind of cold that makes my lungs not work right.

Side note: I had a nasty case of bronchitis about ten years ago that I lacked the wherewithal to blog about. I was moderately delirious, and was left with some damage to my lungs. The problems only show when the temperatures drop below 10 or so degrees.

So the snow kept coming, and the snowblower that I have here just wasn't working. I can't shovel in this cold (I can't breathe in this cold), so it just kinda piled up.

Today is the first day that the temperatures have finally broken past the melting point, and it's been a mad scramble to get all the snow out of the way.

And off of my solar panels. Have I mentioned those yet? Got those a year ago now.

Really? I haven't blogged about those? Man I suck at this.

Icy New Year

I pulled up last years Times Square ball drop and played it at 6:30. My kids were none the wiser and my new years party was surprisingly quiet.

That may also have had something to do with only one person showing up. Either way, I'm glad I didn't have to open my front door more than twice. Whoever stood in front of the door to open it would lose a few degrees in their core. It's the kind of temperatures that can cure a fever by checking the mail.

I'm not certain why new years diets always start on January 1. I mean I get the calendar date, but we're all so chock full of leftovers that it just seems wasteful. Even my wife and I are planning something different, but giving it another week.

Ah January... Everyone packs up their decorations (if they haven't already) and tries on a new flavor of living for a few weeks before going back to their sedentary sugars. Meanwhile, my wife disappears into a tax vortex, only to reappear sometime in mid April. I lack enough black clothing to display my mourning period, so I have to settle with baggy sweaters and not shaving.

I already do that because of the cold, though.

Anyway, a lot of people always complain about the previous year. "Oh wow, 20XX was so horrible, next year is gonna rock" etc ad nauseam. Happens every year without fail. Some years have noticeably more whining, but it's persistent. Well I had a good year, and I'm gonna have an even better one.

Twenty seventeen point oh

Star Wars
Blade Runner

Wait, I already did this one.

I finally finished my basement. It was yesterday when I did, but I'm done. Until I decide to do more, then I'm never done.

It's extremely cold. Cold enough to where I'm thinking of growing a face blanket a.k.a beard. My wife purrs at the idea. I just think she's jealous. Then again, I can't get away with wearing fleece leggings as pants during the day.

I'm not complaining.

The clock

Here it is:

Mirari OK to Wake! Alarm Clock & Night-Light

It worked on the first day, but Christmas morning was too strong for them. I suppose my next plan is a time lock on the door, but I'll have to look into the legality of that.

The furniture

Have you ever found a piece of furniture that you can honestly say brings you joy? Like you look at it and you're glad you have it. When you use it, you're genuinely happy at how well it fits.

The house I bought is right next door to my grandfather's house. He doesn't live there (dude owns two houses, he lives in the one by a river, not the one by my four screaming children. I can't blame him), but it contains artifacts from a life well lived. One such was his sisters table.

I knew of that table. I first saw it when I visited my great aunts house decades ago. It's a coffee table, cut from a single piece of wood and left with its original shape. Engraved in the surface is a checkerboard on one side, and cribbage holes on the other. It's a unique piece that caught my eye even when I was a kid.

When she passed on, the table found its way into my grandfathers home. It collected dust, and occasionally served to hold random odds and ends in his detached garage.Once my basement was finished, (and a good opportunity arose) I wasn't shy about telling him that this beautiful thing was going to waste sitting there.

He let me take it.

The finished half of my basement is divided into two rooms. One is distinctly an office, the other I made into a lounge. I found myself a very large couch (the kind you can effectively *hide* in, as I've proved to my dear wife already), and while I'm quite pleased with myself on finding that big soft blue thing, that table has history.

It's strange how I'm drawn to things like that. Like my house. I could have bought any house, but I bought the one my mother grew up next to. The two families knew each other since the 60's (the house stayed in their family from when it was built until I bought it), and selling it was apparently a hard thing. But since I was no stranger, it was a lot easier emotionally.

But I digress. I know the history of this house. I have relatives that had sleepovers here when they were kids. I keep hearing stories about the place, and I relish it. The table has the same appeal.

I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever be able to take myself away from it.