What you have to do to mail a letter these days.

Funny what passes through what I call my mind when I am reading a joke. I started to free-associate with changes and modern life and technology and I’m laughing at myself because while technology is easy for me, Printing is not.

I’ll be making up a nice new sign for the Jeep to tell people that there is nothing of value in the car and it’s not for sale, and to beg them to leave it alone.

In two languages! With Pictures! In glorious Grey Scale and Black And White!

But yes, I did end up with a Robin Williams Style Rant here. Hang on for a ride. There’s a Bounce-Bar by your knees if you need to hold on.

Anyway, I suspect that this joke way below is one of those “older” offices. Having a lot of paper around the place seems to be a bit anachronistic. While I personally “need” to be “able” to print, I think I am on the same ream of paper that we got for the house back in 2010 and I still have “Special Resume Grade Paper” from the 90s. You know, the good heavy weight stuff that isn’t pure white so it sticks out in a crowd.

Remember having to mail a resume?

Remember actually writing a Pen Pal?

I write maybe four actual letters per year. They get dropped into a box to go along with some “goodies” that I send off in a care package explaining what crap I have loaded into the thing.

In order to get ink to physical piece of paper, I had to have a printer.

Since “technology” happens, I had to have a server for that printer so I could print from any computer on my network.

Install an operating system, a version of Debian Linux, Of course.

Get it working to print something out. Share that printer across the network. Start up Libre Office because I refuse to run anything Microsoft if I can avoid both it and the spyware that they insist in putting in their software. Write the letter and save it.

 

All that? Took about a week of thrashing because there was some weird inconsistency between Raspbian on ARM and a pure Debian on X86 that I am used to…

So now to print, turn on the RaspberryPi, wait for it to boot in about 2 minutes, then turn on the printer. Rush back to the laptop and tell it to print to the printer “Tucked in a corner of Bill’s Desk Somewhere”.

Yes, I called it that.

I had to get a physical piece of paper to my financial advisor a while back and I ended up having them send me the form to sign so that I could physically carry the thing to the Post Office that is two miles away.

Get into the Jeep, hope it starts because I simply don’t drive that often.

Look around as I drive the car like a puppy out the window. Oooh! look! Moving Things! Shiny Objects! Other People!

 

Drive out into traffic and get confused by which lane to choose when at that bizarre five way intersection that everyone knows here as Five Points.

 

I truly hate driving through Five Points. It’s generally done with a horn or an extended gesture that is caused by some damn tourist using the wrong lanes or forgetting to get the hell off the phone because the light changed.

 

Then I am invisible because nobody actually follows the Uniform Vehicle Code any more and am trying to jockey for the Curb Lane because I am only going a mile which involves two stop lights on Dixie Highway, crossing a major rail corridor, and who knows what other shiny objects might be hanging out at the next intersection.

I prefer to walk.

Stand in line and hand it to the people at the Oakland Park, FL Post Office. Truly nice people there. Sure, it looks like a throwback to the early 1970s and probably has not been painted since then, but I end up with a smile on my face, even if I do have to stand in line.

 

After it gets there, lather, rinse, repeat and go home. I’ll take the back roads, I’ll need a sedative if I have to go through Five Points twice in one day!

Beep Beep! I’m a Jeep!

Careful, Nervous Driver On Board!

 

As Carl Sagan said “To make a cake, you first have to invent the universe”.

 

Anyway, all of this rant was triggered by this joke I promised you below.

 

A young manager was finishing up late at work

When he was leaving there was only one other person in the office.

He noticed it was the owner of the company standing by a Shredder with a sheet of paper looking confused.
He approached him and asked if he was alright.

The owner said “my secretary has gone home and she always does these things for me”, and asked “do you know how to work this machine”.
The manager said “yes”, turned on the Shredder and stuck the sheet in and said “all done”.
The owner said “brilliant, now I need three more copies.”

 

 

Ok I guess you had to be there!

Advertisements

Happy Fourth Of July, Now, Please Go Protect Your Pets

I am beginning to see the truth in the way New Jersey handled this back in the day.

They banned anything that went “bang”.

Luckily we have some “doggy downers” from the vet in the house.  I have learned to dose him about a half hour before sunset which takes the edge off.

Rack, my McNab SuperDog (TM) is like just about every other dog I can think of.  He hates Thunderstorms and Fireworks.  It turns him into a shivering mess.

This is the day where more dogs go missing than any other.  He will be hiding in the corner, trying to merge with the couch.  It’s where I sit at night until the sun comes in the front window, then again where I reappear when the sun goes behind the taller buildings to my west.

I expect that since the rednecks down the block are staying here instead of going to someplace else where they can get bit by mosquitoes and go Fish in’ and Hun tin’, they will be shooting off an obscene amount of fireworks tonight.  If not them, someone else will pick up the slack.

Rack is in for it.

Mind you, I like fireworks and the way they look.  Ooh and Ahh and all that.  I used to go to a park in Cherry Hill NJ near the house and watch a number of professional fireworks from a chair or in the comfort of my car.  A good friend Laurie cued me into that you can park in a lot in Cooper River Park and see more fireworks than you could possibly consider firing off in a lifetime from there.  Plus the reflection on the river itself was rather nice.

Bring a camera, preferrably a time lapse one.

So since sundown here is 8:16 PM, We will have gotten our walk in, and I’ll give him his happy pills about a half hour before that.  Hopefully we will get back before they turn this street into a war zone.

Then again, it is wet season and we have an 80% chance of rain.  I’m praying for rain.

On the other hand, I do have a time lapse camera and a porch, and I know how to use them.

Watch over your dogs.  This is not a night to leave them out.  Cats too should be brought inside, well every day since an Outdoor Cat is merely a stray.  People can be evil to strays.

How to Break Your Dog Using Generic Store-Brand Cereal

I’m on a quest.

You see, every time I go to the market, I buy a different brand of Generic Cereal.   The stuff that looks like if you planted it in the backyard, you would get a bagel growing.  Bagel Seeds.

I mean, Cheerios look like bagel seeds, so you end up getting … well never mind, that simile is stretched to its breaking point.

However you could do worse.  One Gram Of Sugar, It’s Not A Lot.  Per serving that is.  I’m taller than average, so I have one and a half grams in my own Moose Sized Servings.

However, Rack, The McNab SuperDog (TM) knows though that I can be a soft touch.

He follows me around the kitchen and watches.  Since the world is not sized for my own Six-Foot-Four-Inch-One-Hundred-Ninety-Three-Centimeter, 220-Pound-One-Hundred-Kilo frame, I drop things.  Constantly.  Reach into the ice bin in the fridge and I get my five cubes for coffee and drop one.

That hardened into a ritual where he hears the freezer door open, listen for the rattle of my right hand grabbing those cubes, and he gets up and pads into there and waits.

Which is to say I get twin laser beams of brown eyes staring a hole through me.

First mug of coffee ONLY.  I merely say when I hear him get up, “Nope”, and he sits down when I go in for the second mug of coffee.

Being a dog of a lifetime. he currently speaks English well enough that I am learning Spanish to avoid him knowing when I am doing something.  Yeah right, he has figured out that he can also go into the kitchen when I am getting a snack.  Bilingual dog in the making.  What’s next, sign language?

Like those Bagel Seeds.   Generic, of course.

The Generic ones come in various kinds.  The best tasting ones are the ones with mostly oats, and wheat instead of only oats.  The “real” cheerios are Gluten Free and taste like cardboard, only cardboard.  Ok, not quite so bad, they taste like Only Oats which can be fine in making oatmeal with milk and a blob of lemon curd on top and …

But the Generic-with-wheat fake-Cheerios that I like taste sweeter.  No more added sugar, I hope, but I’ll eat them out of hand standing in the middle of the kitchen dropping them on my damn boot as they roll under the refrigerator.

Being a dog, he’s also part vacuum cleaner.  He’ll trot in there and vacuum up the things.

Being me, I upgraded him.  Once.

I took a handful of the bagel seeds and put them in his bowl.   Add milk.  Just a splash.

Now, my dog, is broke.   This dog who has the genetics of being the smartest creature in the pasture has learned that I have the power of milk.

Yes, you guessed it.  He won’t eat them if I don’t put the milk over them and merely gives me That Stare.

“Where’s my milk?!?!?!”

Indeed.  “I didn’t even give myself any milk!”

I ignored him and put the cereal away.  He walked to his hiding corner next to my big green chair and waited.

When I finally sat down he decided it was not going to happen, fifteen minutes later, and had his treat without milk.

I have GOT to stop feeding this dog people food!

It’s bad enough that he knows that the rawhides are stored within reach of my desk.

He’ll do the same thing.  Walk to my left elbow.  Wag his tail for attention.  Stare holes in me, wait for me to ask “What?  Show me!”.  Pad over to the rawhide bag and then lasers.

A beggar of my own creation!

 

Baking or Soap Making it could be Engineering Tolerances that are causing you problems

I was an electronics geek back when I was a teen.

Everything in Electronics had a percentage of tolerance engineered in.  Any particular theoretical Resistor may have been intended to be 220K, but in reality it had a 10 % tolerance built in and could have been as much as  22K off.  Say 200 Ohm to 242K ohm.

And since everything else had a 10% tolerance it just may work!  After all, analog electronics always had a trimming capacitor or potentiometer somewhere to tune the circuit to make it all work.

I have a habit of scaling recipes.  That Engineering Tolerance can get in the way.

It makes too much, cut the recipe down.  If it doesn’t make enough, double it.

In fact, my favorite bread recipe, Pat’s Pizza Dough works great in thirds.  I can take that third and make a rather nice sized pizza for two or a couple rolls for sandwiches and it works well.

My preferred way to make a pizza crust is to toss the ingredients into a bag, add an extra teaspoon or tablespoon to texture, and squish it around until it is properly mixed and kneaded.

What if I want one single roll?

No, seriously, just one.  After all you’re not eating two rolls at a time, right?  It may not turn out just right.

After all, you took a recipe that you cut down from 3 cups to 1 cup, and it worked out right, but what about going smaller.

Metric measurements may help.

But here is the rub.  Many recipes were converted from very old measurements and work well in one specific climate, but move them they don’t work.  Others were converted into Metric measurements and are rounded up or down.

I have seen conversion factors varying between 28 and 30 grams to the ounce where the official measurement is 28.35 (by my search) grams to the ounce.

28 and lets-call-it-a-third grams to the ounce.

(See what I did there?  Added an Engineering Tolerance?)

Have you ever accurately measured one gram in a kitchen?   – No.

How about 1/3 of a gram.  – No.

Does it matter? – Maybe.

“Cooking” may not be effected.  Your measurements can be a little off when you’re making a roast from Grandma’s recipe but “it’s the way we like it” would be the answer.

Baking, well that can be finicky.  I’m just not going to try to figure out 9.45 Grams of anything.  My scale is not THAT accurate, and frankly that’s only the 1/3 ounce.  A single roll needs 1/9th of a teaspoon of salt and of sugar.

Settle down, if you go up or down slightly, it should still work but you probably have a freezer that would take the other two rolls if you went to the 1/3rd recipe.

My point is that it is a rare kitchen that can measure in tiny fractions of a gram.  If it is. it is probably cooking something that you would see in Breaking Bad.

After all, I remember my high school chemistry very well and used to get ridiculously accurate measurements in a true Laboratory with balance scales and graduated cylinders and Scientific House weights and measures, and MY kitchen is not equipped!

Since my High School Chem teacher was a stoner, learning Chemistry well was self-preservation around all those possibly toxic ingredients.

The one gram weight was, by the way, a small square of brass that was about the size of a quarter of a common postage stamp.  Now cut that down to a third.

Just stop right there.  My point is with food, it just might not be a problem and you can always have leftovers since that oven isn’t exactly free to run.

But soap?  Don’t try this at home kiddies!

The size reduction… Soap Making is easy but take your time with measurements.

You see, making larger batches of soap seem to be fine.  Bread Loaf sized batches mean that you can do your measurements in ounces and your kitchen scale will be happy to oblige.  Use Grams if you like and be more precise.   Anything over 500 Grams or a Pound (you choose) and the numbers get nice and round.

Since you are using less than 100% of the Lye you need in the recipe to leave things nice and moisturized after washing  your hide with it, coming in a wee bit low makes things happy.

My first batch was at 96%.  That soap was so good that my skin problem cleared up.  Add to it that I only ever use Human Food Grade Ingredients for making soap and you can really see why.

Then I got “creative”.  “Lets make One Single Bar Of Soap.” I said, in earnest!  “After all, how difficult can it be?”

Hah!  You jest.

You see, the measurement came in wanting a fraction of a gram of lye. 8.45 grams, to be specific.

No.  Just no.

Since different oils have different properties, I fiddled with the soap calculator web page and came up with a combination that ended up being exactly 8.00 grams of Lye, even round numbered gram amounts of oils, and 17 1/2 grams of water.

Why such small amounts?  I wanted One Single Bar of Soap that was going to be 3 ounces.

Actually I wanted two of them but one had scent and the other did not.

When I was through, the same measurements gave me two bars through two separate preparations of ingredients.

Bar one was 86 Grams.

Bar two was 79 Grams.

From the same measurements.

Bar one was fine and made the house smell like peppermint, and that was intentional.

Bar two had no scent and a sheen of “something” clear on top.  I don’t know if it was oil or water but it all “digested” into the bar and was (semi) solid the next day.

Don’t ask, I have no idea why.

They are both curing until they are ready to use.  Bar One will probably be too strongly scented and Bar Two might be harsh.  I won’t know until I use them.

So if you’re wondering why it does not work out when you do all that weird calculations and get different results, well, you made a measuring mistake and it happens.

Go with larger batches next time.  I will.  My mold will make six bars of soap, each 3 ounces.  I will calculate 21 ounces and see what I get.  I’ll let you know how that worked out.

Florida Is No Place If You Hate Spiders

I’m up early.  Usually about early enough to get a good long dog walk in and feed both of us before dawn even struggles to send first light over the hedge.

Being tall, you should thank me.  It is a public service that I do.

What service would that be, you ask?

I clear spider webs from the walks and paths of this town.

Terrified of spiders?

I am not, in fact, generally I ignore them.  Their purpose is to eat the creatures that I do not care for like the mosquitoes and gnats.

Yes, this being the tropics, or tropics adjacent – depending on your definition, we do have mosquitoes.  Legions of the blasted creatures.  Evil blood sucking things.

This being the tropics here in South Florida, everything grows.   Fast.  Quick.  Assertively.

That sidewalk I depend on has palm fronds on it, every block, that I have to dodge.  You may not, but I most certainly do.

If the frond wasn’t there yesterday, it’s here today.  People don’t tend to clear walkways to seven feet or 2 and a half meters, or what ever measure your area thinks is traditionally appropriate.

Sometimes I may help that along, but it can be a lot of work trimming leaves.

That open area is where the spider web clearing comes along.

Sorry, Charlotte, but your web was in my way.  I’ll be sure to take a bit home with me in my hair or on my arms or clothes.  Thanks, but I really don’t need that.

Getting in to feed the dog, I brush myself down looking for hitchhikers and calling it good, I prepare for a later foray into the yard.

The 7:30AM yard inspection is just after sunrise by a bit.  As they say “Lather, Rinse, Repeat” and I am back outside trying to avoid bugs.

That has its own reward.  This is more human scaled agriculture, or rather my own human scaled.  I look over closely the plants I do want in the yard, remove those I don’t and sometimes spot something.

In this case, Bougainvillea.  It blooms almost all year around.  I can’t think of when it isn’t blooming.  If you get just the right angle, it makes for quite a nice display.

If you don’t just remember that those things will bite you with the spikes on the limbs.

I never work on a bougainvillea without a little blood loss.

Not from the spiders, but the spines.  Spiders are everywhere, even if you don’t see them in the flowers.

Go eat a mosquito, spider, I’ll leave you alone.

Yes, You can sell your car from your living room recliner, but why would you want to? Especially if it is a Jeep Wrangler.

A Jeep Wrangler is a funny thing.

I never get into that car without having a big silly grin on my face.  They are just that fun to drive.

Mine isn’t particularly modified, other than what I did for every other car.  I always bump the size up on the tires “one size” than the manufacturer shipped it with because it almost always makes the car much better to drive.  Handling is improved.

In my case, it made the speedometer more accurate.  But that’s an aside.

It’s not one of those mudder Jeeps that you see where your eyes are looking at it’s bumper.  But I do take care of it.

For a car that is 16 years old, you wouldn’t know it.  They hold their value and I won’t let this one slide through my fingers.

As a Jeep Wrangler X TJ is the last gasp of AMC Engineering, it’s built to last.  I could rebuild the thing in my driveway.  The motor is a 4 Liter Push-rod Inline Six Cylinder hooked to a five speed manual transmission.

2002 with only 47,000 miles.

Oh and I’ve been driving Jeeps since 1996, so yeah I like them.

So do others.  They hold their values and they’re in great demand like few other cars.  “Classic” Jeep Cherokee drivers are in the same boat.  In fact, they’re the same car, different body.

When I see an article on a car forum about them, I’m bound to look.  This one in particular caught my attention and had me laughing.

Two guys, of course, talking about Jeeps.  That link has the video I’m talking about.

“Jeep Chicks” do exist, and they’re wonderful and rare creatures who always, without a doubt, are worth getting to know.

But here were two guys.  Self appointed “experts” who were bloggers for www.jalopnik.com which can be an entertaining site to begin with.

Mind you, neither of them have ever owned a Jeep Wrangler, but hey that’s why they are “experts” and writing about the cars right?

Um, Yeah.

One guy was in love with the Wranglers.  Smart Guy.  Talking about how we always seem to enjoy being in the beasts and going on about our business and occasionally taking our cars on adventures and … you get the picture.

The other one was saying Land Rover was the best and Jeeps blah, and so forth.  Ranting about Angry Faced Jeeps and “Jeep Bros”.

Yeah, Self Appointed Expert.

Neither owned one.

I remember the Land Rovers that they’re talking about in the video.  The lines I remember the most were “British Engineering” and “Buy One for Wash, One for Wear” – meaning they broke down frequently and were rarely trustworthy.

 

You couldn’t give me one.

Never did I have a problem with that Jeep, but I have had to tow-rope a Land Rover out of a stuck spot once or twice.

Sitting in my recliner, laughing at this video, and waiting for the time to take the dog for his walk, someone pulls into my driveway.

He’s looking at the Jeep.  I sit up.

He spots me.  He’s in a posh-ass Mercedes Benz.  The kind of car you make rude comments about because the driving style is … over privileged.  You know the kind.  You think “I’m not letting him in” on the interstate.

That kind of guy.

Roof down, bald head glistening in the afternoon sun.

And he’s gesturing me to come out and talk to him.

Did I mention Over-Privileged and Mercedes Benz?  Of A Certain Age (Over 50)?

 

Yeah, you know the type.

 

And he’s gesturing to me to come out and pointing at my Jeep.

 

I unroll myself out of the chair to my full length, and walk out to the front porch.

 

Before I step out of the house I hear “You sellin’ that Jeep?!?!”

 

I’ll admit the car is cherry.  Not a thing wrong with it, but “Nope, it’s not for sale”.

 

This is how weirdly random it is.  The guy is driving down the street and looking at Jeep Wranglers and saw me in the window looking at a video about Jeep Wranglers, and wanted to buy mine.

 

Huh?

 

“I saw the sign in the window and wanted to know”.

 

“Oh The Sign”.  That explains it.

 

I have a neighbor across the street.  Same year Jeep that has been left out in the rain with the roof off for as long as he lived there.  Someone came by and opened his door and took the door tops off the car.

 

So I put a sign in my windows that says “Look up, You are on Camera, and there is nothing in the Car”.

The neighbor keeps the doors unlocked.  It made it easy for them to walk off with pieces from the car.  I can take the doors off the Jeep for extra breezes and less car if I like.  One bolt per door and I’m done.

My car is locked, has an alarm, and is on three video cameras.  Idiots who steal live everywhere.

I explained all of this to the Man Of A Certain Age with a sense of amusement.  All the while chuckling in my head at the pure strangeness of the situation.

“I Can’t sell that Jeep. I wouldn’t be able to get another one that nice, they aren’t making them like that any more!  Sorry, he’s not for sale.”

Yes, He.  DJ as in Darth Jeep.  Unlike a car that is a rolling computer room on wheels, a Jeep Wrangler truly has a personality.  He’s got a black body, tan roof.  Black and tan like I like my beer.  Nice HD Radio that also plays my phone with a cable and … just basic mild mods that you would not notice unless you look very close.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

It’s one of the last cars that doesn’t have insane amounts of things that interfere with your enjoyment of the vehicle.  No On-Star or other nosy nonsense that listens in on what you are doing.  The computer in the car is mild and does not interfere with what you want to do.  The transmission is a 5 speed manual, I’ll shift when I damn well feel like it.

Oh and I get 23MPG highway which is pretty good for a car that just makes me smile.  “Beep Beep! I’m a Jeep”

Besides, since nobody who isn’t a truck driver can drive a stick shift, so the worlds least secure vehicle is safe in a mall parking lot in a questionable area.

He pulled off and blew through the stop sign on the corner.  I shook my head at him and the situation and went into the house laughing.

The next day I took that Jeep out for a drive, again.  No destination, just driving around.  “I can’t sell you, it’s like selling a good friend!”  I had my dog Rack in the car.  He looked up confused.

Mind you, my dog Rack is not so sure of the Jeep.  It’s a little too real to ride around in a car with windows made of Cling Film and held in place with velcro and zippers.  You hear the next car a little too loudly, and the wind noise is a bit intense above 65.  But the speed limit here is 65 MPH on the highway and why would you want to go faster than that anyway.  Just keep up with traffic and let others get the speeding ticket.

Pulling back into the driveway I hear myself saying “I couldn’t sell this car.  It’s just too damn good, too much fun, and I can’t see myself stepping down to a used Toyota!”

 

If you have ever been at sunset in a Jeep Wrangler on the Seven Mile Bridge with the roof down, stars coming out overhead, and the warm tropical breezes caressing your body, you will know why.

I hope to make that trip again some day…

Yes, You can sell your car from your living room recliner, but why would you want to?  Especially if it is a Jeep Wrangler.

Downtown Fort Lauderdale From The Causeway

I get asked to do things by people.  For some reason I get drafted to do a fair amount of heavy lifting.  Sure go ask the 6’4″ guy, 193 CM, he’ll do it.

Well I did whine a bit, probably more than I should.  Ok, Ok, a lot more.  I’ll shaddap.

This was for a very good friend who has done quite a lot for me.  I have helped him and his company out a lot in the past with technology issues, as well as this sort of thing.  Sometimes it even goes both ways like the time I installed a power battery backup for their servers.  Bolted that right into a cabinet.  I had to do the same thing for the company I was working for very shortly thereafter so it was nice not to have to use my own responsibilities as a guinea pig for that sort of thing.  I will call it on the job training.

I was told that mine later had to be cut out of that rack because batteries in a power conditioner and battery backup have a nasty tendency to swell.  Given about three years, swollen batteries will warp the case and lock everything in place in the server rack.  Get out the tin snips, it looks like a giant iPhone blew its battery pack.

That day was simpler.  Get a small refrigerator to the roof of the office block and leave it open to allow it to drain.  Come back the next day.

While I was waiting for things to settle and get ready, I was invited to a cup of what I call Office Coffee.  That’s appropriate since I was the taste tester for these things.

One sip and “It doesn’t taste right.  Your water temp is too high.  It’s bitter”.

Office coffee has a bad reputation but any bitter coffee can taste better by reducing the brew temperature.  Don’t even get me started with Starbucks, I won’t drink it willingly.

I have had this exact Kona blend before but I made it with my French Press.  Bring water in a kettle to a complete vigorous boil.  Wait 20 seconds, no less, for the kettle to cool to the correct temp, then brew normally.

Ahhh, coffee nirvana.  But this was … wanting.  There is a coffee company in the London that brews at 92C to 93C if you are looking for exact numbers.  I do it by waving my kettle in the air for 20 seconds.

I finished the brew, then we went upstairs.  With the refrigerator.  And my hands slipping and sliding the whole way with my mind repeating “I Think I Can! I Think I Can!”

Truth be told it wasn’t so horrible, and the view up there was quite nice.  Coffee or the heavy lifting both.

The city centers of South Florida from Jupiter through West Palm Beach, Fort Lauderdale, and Miami are in discrete pods.  If you stand in the right place they line up like you would waiting in a queue.  Plop! There’s downtown Miami with Miami Beach next to it.  A little ways North is Aventura.  A little further is Hallandale with its massive towering condos packed too closely together.  Hollywood, then downtown Fort Lauderdale and the Beach behind it.

That day was brilliant, beautiful, and breezy.  Fort Lauderdale shined in the sun, becoming a playground once again for the sun worshipers.  A couple miles away over the palm trees it rose above the squatting homes below the tree line.

And all I had to do was help move an office fridge to get to see it.  Rather a nice bargain if you ask me.

The next day we moved it back downstairs after we chased the mosquitoes that colonized the water dripping from the little freezer in that short time.

Taking a sip of coffee, I commented “If you can, drop the temperature in this coffee machine a few degrees.  It will taste better.”

The look I got I think was a bit disbelieving but I know if it happens, I’ll get a report back.

Don’t overheat your coffee while brewing.  You may end up on a roof with a story to tell.