Posted in Truck

A Lightning in the wild

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I saw a Ford F-150 Lightning electric truck in our neighborhood yesterday. It’s the first one I’ve seen in the wild. I almost didn’t notice it at all. As I walked by the contractor’s truck, I saw the word “Lightning” on the side, but didn’t make the connection. When I did, I circled back to get a picture.

This electric pickup is supposed to have more than enough power for pulling, hauling, and powering tools on the job site. I know we’ll have to get used to electric vehicles. In fact, my grandchildren may learn how to drive on an electric car. But when it comes to trucks, there are some things I’ll miss.

I only had a truck for a couple of years. A Chevy Silverado with a 5.3 V8 engine. There is something very satisfying about turning the key and hearing and feeling that engine come to life. I could feel the power in the steering wheel, the gas pedal, and the seat. There was always an adrenaline rush. And when I pushed on the gas, it only got better.

I’m not going to get that with an electric truck. It’ll get me there with all a trailer and all my stuff, but it won’t be the same. It’ll effortlessly accelerate and pull, but what will I feel? Probably nothing. It’ll be like tofu. Pretty much tasteless. Blech.

Posted in Home improvement

Those shingles are going to get real heavy real soon

Posted on by William Douthwaite

A house up the street is finally getting a new roof. That’s not unusual. I think most of the houses near me (including mine) have gotten a new roof in the past three years.

What did catch my eye was the pile of shingles in the driveway. Typically a big truck with a big arm pulls into the driveway and lifts piles of shingles onto the ridge line of the house. Once in a while roofers will have a ladder lift that raises two or three bundles to the workers up on the roof.

But all these guys had was a ladder against the side of the house. From what I could tell they were going to carry each fifty-pound bundle up the old fashioned way, one at a time. That’s got to be at least sixty times up and down the ladder. That’s a lot of work just getting the shingles up there.

Most of the roofing work is done by companies who bring in a crew of four to five, able to get the whole thing done in a day and a half. From what I could tell, there were only a couple of guys working this job. All the guys and gals who do roofs are tough and hard workers. Plus it’s the time of the year where it gets pretty hot up there in the middle of the day.

I’ve only ever worked on one roof. We put a second layer of shingles on the church in Connecticut about thirty-five years ago. We didn’t have a compressor and nail guns, just hammers and roofing nails. It took a whole day, but we got it done. Bonus prize: no one fell off the roof.

I wonder how many years the average worker is up there on roofs? I don’t see many older people up there. After a while, I’ll bet younger workers take the place of the more experienced roofers whose backs and knees just can’t take it any more. I searched on the average length of a roofing career, and got mixed answers. Some said no sane person would do it for more than six months. Others have done it for thirty years or more.

I don’t go up on my roof unless I absolutely have to, usually to sweep pine needles that accumulate in certain places. I do a lot better working on the ground.

Posted in Food

Back to the blueberry farm

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Today was our annual trip to the blueberry farm. The month of April has flown by and we almost missed our chance to pick buckets of berries to bring home. We didn’t make it to yesterday’s Bostwick Blueberry Festival, but Facebook assured us the bushes were still filled with large, ripe berries. We picked up our two Florida grandsons after church and made the drive out to the farm.

Last year’s picking was good, but since it was later in the season, this year was even better. The clouds kept the temperatures down, Saturday morning’s rain was mostly dried up, so it was a great afternoon to pick.

It’s fun to listen to all the conversations going on as families stand between the rows of bushes, picking blueberries.

  • “Whoa! Look at this one. This is the biggest berry ever!” (I heard that at least a dozen times.)
  • “I’m glad I wore my boots. I stepped right into that mud puddle.”
  • “Don’t pick the green ones. They’re too hard and sour. Only pick the purple ones.”
  • “Marco!” “Polo!”
  • “I’m going to eat all the berries.”
  • “Hey, stop throwing those.”
  • “I heard that someone picked fifty pounds of berries last week.”
  • “This bush is really full of them. You can just stand here and fill your bucket.”
  • “How many have you eaten?”
  • “Watch out; you almost dumped your bucket.”
  • “My bucket is way fuller than yours.”

The farm reported that one picker took home fifty pounds of blueberries one day last week. Our load of ten pounds seemed like a lot. Was it someone who owned a bakery? Or took them home to share with neighbors? Maybe they resold them by the side of the road.

Some friends of ours told us about another blueberry farm that forbid pickers to eat any. Posted signs said it was a federal offense to eat any berries before purchasing them. You won’t see us at that farm. I probably ate a pint while filling my bucket.

The bushes were filled with white and green berries yet to ripen, so the harvest will continue through next week. For now we’ve got all the blueberries we need for pancakes, muffins, scones, smoothies, and maybe some jam.

Posted in dogs

That’s not a chew toy? I didn’t get the memo

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I had to put out my sprinklers yesterday for the first time in a long time. It’s been two or three years since I last unwound the blue hose that connects three sprinklers together.

The front yard has been looking great. The back yard not so much. It’s usually the other way around. We haven’t had much rain this spring. Plus we now have two dogs regularly chasing each other around, digging holes, and killing patches of grass with pee.

I don’t have in-ground sprinklers, so I stretch hoses around the yard with oscillating sprinkler heads. These were made of the plastic that gets brittle in the Florida sun. Lizards like to make their homes in my hoses. I wasn’t confident they would work at all, but decided to give it a shot.

To my surprise, they all worked fairly well. I had to adjust the distance on each one, but other than that, the grass got the water it needed. I felt pretty good about. One dog (the Westie) thought the streams of water were great fun. The other (the Great Dane) wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

When I turned my sprinkler system on today, each shot out a narrow stream rather than a broad spray of water. No problem. I know how to adjust them. Unfortunately, each was missing a piece. Someone, who either didn’t like or really liked the sprinklers, chewed off the little tab that regulated the spray. Rather than eating the evidence, the guilty canine left chewed up plastic pieces in front of each. Thanks a lot, guys.

On to plan B. I’ve got a few metal oscillating sprinklers in the garage. They should thwart any overzealous chewers. They don’t do as well in series, so I’ll probably have to run two hoses to cover the thirstiest stretches of lawn.

I’m impressed that dogs always find new ways to get into trouble. In fact, as I’ve been writing this, the big one garped up some blue and red strings from a tug-o-war rope she’s been working on today. Lovely. Time to retire that toy. And then while they were outside regurgitating, they chased Mrs. Cardinal out of a bush where she was hiding. She was not happy. The dogs thought it was great fun.

Posted in bible, faith

The lights aren’t on, but someone is home

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kajetan Sumila on Unsplash

When my friend Bedan from Kenya entered the Zoom last week, his box was black, as if he didn’t have his camera turned on. As he greeted the other guys in the group he explained that he had no power and therefore, no lights. His cell service was okay, so he used his phone as his camera and joined us for bible study. A few minutes later he turned on a flashlight. Now he could see his study notes and we could see him.

Our Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) group meets at noon my time, but that means it’s 7:00 pm in Kenya. Bedan really wanted to be there that day. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever missed a meeting. I’m grateful for his commitment and faithfulness to our group. He’s also our oldest member, so he brings a lifetime of wisdom and faith to our discussions.

Some BSF groups are local and meet in person. Virtual groups bring together people from all over the United States and other countries. The mixture of cultures and experiences is a reminder of the size and diversity of the church.

Posted in treasure

Free money: a few cents here and there

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I pick up every coin I find.

I most often find pennies or dimes when I’m walking the dogs around the neighborhood or in store parking lots. While they check out the subtlest of smells along the ground, a reflection or a circular shape catches my eye. It’s not always a coin. Sometimes it’s a washer, a bottle cap, or some other piece of trash. But other times it is free money, waiting for me on the road.

I mostly find pennies and dimes. I know, these don’t amount to much. But for some reason, I love coming home from a walk just a little bit wealthier. Or, at least having found a treasure, no matter now small. Surveys report that over half of all Americans are like me, and will stop to pick up a penny on the ground.

Bus stops and house construction sites are likely places to spot a coin. Coins fall from the pockets of contractors who have been to convenience store for the day’s water and lunch. A few cents fall from the car as parents drop off children for school. Enough people still shop with cash to leave change behind in a store parking lot when they pull their car keys out of a purse or pocket.

If I were to add up everything I’ve found, it would only total a few bucks. But it’s still satisfying to find something of value, even if so very small.

Posted in Stories

Dear supersized rubber duckie: you’ve got my attention

Posted on by William Douthwaite

So I’m driving down US 1 on my way home from St. Augustine, when I see this monster inflatable. I could’t help but grab a quick picture on my way back. I’m not looking for a hot tub and really don’t have anywhere to put one, but I really wanted to stop here just because of the rubber duck.

You can send me direct mail. I’ll take it right from the mailbox to the recycling bin. You can send me an email. It’ll go right to my spam. You can try to call or message me. I won’t answer your call. I’ll scroll right by your ad on social media. You can come knock on my door. I won’t even open the door to say, “No, thank you.”

But put a huge inflatable yellow rubber duck alongside of the road, and suddenly I’m interested. You’ve got my attention. I had to take a picture. And when I’m interested in getting a hot tub, you’ll probably be the first place I think of.

There is a marketing lesson in here somewhere. The visual, the outrageous, and the humorous makes for effective advertising. This world is way to serious. Give me a reason to smile, and I’ll little to your pitch. Fill up my mailbox, my newsfeed, or my inbox, and you’re nothing more than spam to me.

Give me something that makes me laugh. Or makes me say, “Whoa.” Or causes me to reach for my camera to get a picture. That’s how you get my attention.

Posted in coffee

A surprisingly good cup of coffee

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The service adviser said, “It’s going to be about three to four hours.” The look on my face must have prompted her to add, “Yeah, they have to take the whole dashboard off to get to the wiring.”

I had expected to wait a couple of hours for the recall service to be done on my van. Double that? Good thing I brought something to do. And since it was early, maybe the coffee would be good.

Typically, I’d find a few pump thermoses in the beverage area. That’s fine, as long as the coffee is hot and fresh. A few hours from now it would be old and lukewarm. Once in a while, the dealership will install a Keurig coffee maker. Unfortunately, they’ll also buy the cheapest pods they can find, resulting in so-so brew.

But today I saw a coffee machine I’ve never seen before. It’s a Selectbrew coffee system, featuring Folgers coffee. Not a brand I reach for, but today I’ll give it a shot. I placed my cup, pushed the “dark roast bold” (of course) and within five seconds I had a strong, freshly brewed cup of coffee. It smelled and tasted wonderful. Later on, I tried the decaf variety, and it was just as tasty.

I know, I should probably be more concerned about the service and costs of car repair. But we’ve been coming to this dealership for decades and they’ve always done a great job at a reasonable price. I’ve had better coffee at coffee shops. But they didn’t have a clue about how to fix my car. Lol.

Posted in Life

Keepin’ ‘em shiny

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I arrived at the Honda dealer just as the service advisors were logging into their computers. After they took my van back to start working on a recall repair, I got a very nice, strong cup of coffee and found a high top table to sit at next to the sales area.

The salespeople don’t get in until about nine, so it was pretty quiet. As I sat, jotting down story ideas, a gentleman wandered through with a spray bottle and two microfiber cloths. He said, “‘Mornin’” as he did a quick detail on the vehicles on the showroom floor.

I said, “Good morning.” Then I added, “you wouldn’t think they’d get very dusty overnight.”

“You’d be surprised.”

It was a Monday morning, so he was probably wiping away a whole weekend’s worth of fingerprints, smudges, and dirt.

I wonder how many people touch the cars each day? Probably plenty. For some reason, fingers are drawn to smooth, shiny surfaces. They are a pleasure to touch. But it’s hard to keep them that way.

Some spend a lot of time and big bucks on car detailing to preserve that brand new look. Of course, it’s gone just a few miles down the road. Other cars look like they’ve never been washed.

Somewhere in between is probably the best I can do.