Putin Rips U.S. Over Spy Arrests

Let's see if I have this right...

The Feds arrest 11 Russian spies, and Putin Rips U.S. Over Spy Arrests.

It just occurred to me the other day, that there are people would like to write for a living.

And I do.

You will never read my professional writing, but people who have, have complimented me on it.
I have to be readable to those who can read it.
I have to be concise and logical (like Charles Krauthammer), and clever (like Ann Coulter).

And I have to write in different languages and get different entities to work together because of my writing. It can't be divisive.

Now the analogy starts to fall apart.

I write programs that govern robots, presses and other machines.

I just finished writing a robot program to take parts out of an injection molding machine and place them in a trimming fixture. I also wired and programmed the trimming fixture. They only crashed into each other once (eggs, omelets).

My boss complimented me on the wiring, which has a design asthetic itself. Functional, pleasing to the eye, and easily understood.

I then went back to work on another device that will test washing machine consoles after they are built. These are not your mother's washing machines. There will come a day when you will re-boot your washing machine.

I wrote the overall controlling program for this device, but the device was designed by my co-worker, Dave, and he did a fine job. There are other writers involved. I had already written the vision system program that checks the lights and console color.
For a few hours, Dave was writing his robot program (it tests the buttons) and I was writing the data acquisition routine (to see how hard the buttons are to press!) and the IT guy was wriiting his stuff to get the data, tell us he got it, and allow the robot to continue.  Thee guys, three different minds working towards one goal. That calls for some good communication skills, patience and cleverness. At 6PM we decided we'd run out of all three and would try again Monday.

First of all to Father God. Thank you for this glorious day.

When I was growing up, I never heard my dad sing, that I recall.

My mom used to sing all the time. She had been a nightclub singer, but the nocturnal lifestyle contributed to her loosing parental rights to my older sister, who was my dad's niece.

His brother (her father, a drunk) had left them, or vice versa.

So  my dad would go to the home she was at and visit her. The book/movie "Daddy Longlegs" reminded her of this.

So dad married mom, they got Joan and had me, and Bud and Tom.

But I never heard my dad sing, as I recall.

When I was driving my dad to the store one day, a couple years before he died, I turned on the car stereo, and a CD started playing. It was a recording of my dad singing. He was singing Sinatra love songs. I was surprised.

He had made the recording for my stepmom. She liked his voice. I did too. Who knew?

I was singing in church last Sunday, and I heard my dad's voice. Coming out of me.

Could be worse.

As I read more about this woman this morning, it occurred to me (I'm slow on the uptake) what a political hack she is.

She has applied for an asst. A.G. position, a federal judgeship, law school management positions. Now she wants to be a Supreme Court Justice.

Has she ever worked in a non-political environment?

Held a real-world job?

Like the rest of us?

She's no academic scholar or national legal treasure.

She's a detached liberal idealogue.

Everything is theoretical, as in:

"Let's try this, This should work."

And the corrollary:

"Huh, That should have worked."

By the way:

The Supreme Judge (and our Chief Advocate) suffered like us:

^Heb15For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

 ^Heb16Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

On this day in 632 (that's measured from when Jesus was born)
the prophet Mohammed died.

No reports of his coming back after three days.

Three years.

Three centuries.

Just got off the phone with my boss.

He won't be in today.

That tornado that hit that high school in Ohio? It took out the house behind him, his shed, some of his siding and his power.

Some guys from his church are coming over to help him.

Puts my problems in perspective.

Nice vacation last week. Thorough cleaning of my garage/shop on Saturday so that once again people who enter will say that it looks good.

Sunday, kinda lazed around. Felt guilty, but I was tired. Seven PM, my son comes over (after calling) so that we can fix his exhaust rattle on his truck.

So instead of getting a little more sleep, I got a little less.

Woke up, and my beautiful bride says we don't have any hot water. I figure it's the pilot light again. Simple.

We have a tankless water heater, so I don't have to wait for the water to heat up.

I was on a home improvement show Saturday, and I cautioned people against getting tankless water heaters, unless they can't do without. They are high maintenance and high installed cost.

This morning, I had water coming out of my pilot light tube.

I had fixed this last fall, and now I had to fix it again. At least i knew how, if I could remember.

Some prayer, some cursing, (not supposed to work like that) and I got it back together with the leak gone.

I would still get to work on time, since I usually go in an hour early (to leave early).

On the drive in, my feet were cold, so I turned on the heater. No heat.

Temp gauge was OK and remained so. I'd look at it when I got home.

Ten miles from work and as I accelerate on I-75, I hear a noise that sounds like a minor exhaust leak. I look down at the gauges and I'm overheating.

I coast to a stop right in front of a "Welcome to Michigan" rest stop.

Of course, that would be on the other side of the very busy expressway, as I was headed into Ohio. I crossed the traffic, went inside and met a nice lady who was pushing a mop bucket.

I asked whether I might obtain a jug of water and she took me to her supply closet and filled two jugs for me. Cross traffic again. Start engine, fill slowly. Filling quickly can crack an engine block.

Drive away, get to work 15 minutes before work starts.

Proof once again! that there is a God in heaven, and he answers prayer. Probably my wifes, though. She prays every day that I'll get to work safely. Thanks, Scherie.

We got back yesterday from seeing our nephew Tim graduate Basic Training and AIT school for Military Police.

Wednesday was family day. So we took Tim to lunch and then we toured some on-base military museums. Hadn't seen them a couple years ago when his sister Charity graduated basic. Wednesday Night there was a banquet for the families. Talked to some people next to us about gun law. They were very nice.

We went bowling that night and there was a tornado alert while we were there, so we were locked in and herded to the center of the building. MPs were there to assure our cooperation safety. When we got back to the motel, the electricity was out. No TV. So everyone was left with nothing else to do but stand outside and watch the spectacular light show all around and above us.

I've never seen anything like this before. Across the entire sky. Almost as impressive as the Aurora Borealis.

At the graduation ceremony the next day, the chaplain gave an invocation of God's blessing on the young people as they go forth in the battle against "radical Islam". Yes he said that!

On the way home we spent some time in Indianapolis. It has a downtown... with people walking around... going to a ball game... and museums... and restaurants... and they were smiling! Do people really live like that?

Of course!

Coincidence is when two things happen simultaneously. But it does not explain away the causality.
Someone prays, God answers.
Coincidence? Of course!
But not "merely" coincidence.

I've been working on a brand of robot that I'm not as proficient in as others. And I've been trying to get it to pull parts out of an injection molding machine. A real learning experience.

Friday, I got done. I'd learned a lot of arcane things about this brand of robot (I should get og's phone number) that I'd never needed to know before.

Sunday morning at 6am my phone rang. It was a friend of mine. We'd worked together at two previous jobs. He's a production manager.

He said he couldn't get any of his engineers to answer the phone, and he saw my name in his phone, and would I please talk his maintenance guy through getting this robot to pick parts out of an injection molding machine. He was going to miss a shipment, and perhaps lose the customer.

I told him that there was no way I could come in since I had church coming up and dinner with friends after. I talked to his guy and set him on the right path. I lay back down.

I knew in my heart God wanted me to call him up and offer to come in to his plant, so I did. He was excited, said he'd get me paid.

I drove in and a few hours later, using the knowledge I had gained recently, got him up and running.

During this time, one of their engineers had come in, but he was unfamiliar with robots.

Together, I showed him what I was doing, and why. We worked on the PLC code together, also.

The plant manager also had come in. He was encouraging us with phrases like: "This needs to run! Now!" and "Do I have to call someone else in?".

I took Steve aside and told him that I wasn't there to get paid, but that God had sent me to assist him. I told him that I could probably best assist him by walking up to his boss and slapping him. Steve did not agree, but he smiled.

I got a lot of smiles and thank yous from everyone when we were done. Steve looked like a hero.

That night, Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, Steve called me up again to thank me again, and that he'd try to get me paid. I told him that God had told me to go in, so he owed God. God wanted him to live for Him. Steve said that he had made that decision since we had last worked together, and coincidentally, there were a few believers in the plant who had been praying that the shipment would not get missed, and that they were telling everyone that I was an answer to prayer.

I've been paid.

Geekiness.

Scherie's driving.

We rented a car for the trip. It's got Sirius/XM.

I've got my phone plugged into the lighter along with my laptop.

This Palm Pre phone serves as a wireless router.

So I'm cruising the Internet while Scherie cruises the interstate.

And we're listening to hometown radio stations online.

I wonder if people should sell out of Sirius/XM as more people get 3g/4g smart phones? Besides Internet connectivity, there are radio apps that let you listen to stations all over the country, over your phone.

For those who don't know, as I didn't, when you get a smart phone and pay for a data plan, you don't pay for Internet connect time/usage. Minutes are separate. So my $30 unlimited data plan provides the near equivalent of satellite radio in any vehicle I'm in as opposed to the $12 a month per radio for satellite.

Frankly, I'm glad the company's chipping in.

Headed west on I-70 just outside of Indianapolis. Wife's driving, in case you wondered.

Going to see our nephew Tim graduate basic training and law enforcement school at Ft. Leonard Wood in Missouri.

That makes Uncle Babe (USMC), my Dad (USA), me (USAF), our son Scott (USN), our niece/daughter Charity (USA), our niece Caridad (USAF), and our niece Kenna (USN), and now Tim.

I had a great idea for a blog post this morning.

When I remember it, I'll post it.

By the way, my Uncle Babe got the Silver Star in the Pacific. Captured a number of Japanese single handed with his Thompson. He says he literally caught 'em with their pants down. Not quite how he put it.