Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Bottle Bashing

I was on the bottling line today, that is, inside the mobile trailer and either "dumping glass", (unloading) or packing the filled bottles in the empty cases from the unloading. And of course, many occasions of glass bottles bashing each other, empty of filled. And do the perps ever love to create vibrations and noise from ceramics of glass banging on something. All the better if it is bottle-to-bottle etc.

The unloading is the more precarious task. The cases of boxes are upside down on a pallet load, and it is my job to ensure no bottles fall out and then at the feed point of the bottling line, pull up on the box to then have the 12 bottles on their bases and then ease them onto the 5" wide conveyor and making sure they all are standing up. And through the day, I lost four, which somehow eluded my detection at the outset and were on the ground when I first saw them. Funny how that happens, consistently being foiled and only noticing when it is too late. Though, given the generalized perp adversity, I should be thankful it wasn't four cases worth that ended up on the floor. Depending on the pallet loading, some cases are high and at the limit of my reach, and someone else usually helps to make them available. And of course, keeping one's hands on the bottom to prevent unexpected unloading.

On the case packing, the assholes pulled another of their mindfulness sabotage games, having me (inexplicably) two partially filled cases down the line, which was caught by the case sealing and labelling twosome. Never, in my entire life, save the last time doing this about a month ago, have I ever incompletely fulfilled my production line duties, from daffodil bulbs, potatoes, carrots, and tree seedlings. And of course I can count on the perps for these esoteric agricultural jobs, as I hadn't done any of the like until the assholes arrived in a fantastic display of high tech wizardry in my Seattle apartment in 04-2002.

On the yoga front, and all those spinal twists and turns, Star Girl made a now rare appearence and scooped my usual mat placement. She would of known that too, as she was once a regular and her usual mat location was beside the mirrors on the SW corner. (On mirror blocking duty seemingly). She arrived the same time as me, and got out of her vehicle adroitly timed to tail me into the building. Though she did deign to say "hello" in the parking lot, a first.

In the recent games of putting an unnatural red haired woman in my presence, the perps were on top of it. An unnatural red hair dye job was there for the first time, aided in the vile red show by her day-glo fuschia colored top. And to add more from the Unfavaored list, she had a pot belly and tattoos.

As always, I haven't really figured out what the yoga practice/gangstalk rotation is exactly, but who know what is going on with all those spinal twists the perps love so very much. Though, the attractive pixie instructor has been a constant.

Still on bottling wine today, and "somehow: I dropped a single bottle, and never saw its trajectory until it hit my foot, to then break on the concrete below the bottling trailer, a 5" gap that wasn't there yesterday, per pallet placement. Thankfully that was the only one, and no case loads of dropped bottles,

A rash of box inserts dropping off today; those cardboard separators that separate each bottle in a cardboard case of 12. There was some 20, when ordinarily  there maybe less than five. Some cases had a gash or cut on them, also needing extra attention to get repaired. And lo, a case with a gash AND a box insert drop out "happened" together, immediately following a case with a gash.

The girl with the (natural) red hair and the orange pack came today, coming for a few days at a time like the last bottling.

Onto vineyard work, with the bottling crew/noise working in the background. I was tucking, an ongoing job for the next three weeks I reckon. Tucking in placing the shoots, now 3' long or more, in between the horizontal trellis wires so they take on a vertical positioning, and that the fruit is grown in a predictable place on the vine.

At the end of day I dropped in on the alterations lady, as my last purchase PI tights had to be altered for length. And lo, if it wasn't a skunk jog.  A sign on the door, "Sorry...will be back in 20 minutes" message on the door, no doubt to play into the games of dashed expectations the assholes love so very much.

After two weeks of the PC headphones not working from Amazon, suddenly they work. Still no progress on getting the PC to play through a known device (disc player), which was working for all of a few days until it suddenly stopped. Seems to be problem for others on the web, trying all manner of obscure utilities.

Skunked again on picking up my alterations ; "Back in 20 minutes". I have never had this problem with this particular dressmaker until this week, and it has erupted two days in succession.

Tucking vines in the vineyard, and a new guy,18 yo. or so, for temporary help in the vineyard. he did the scared shitless/ignore me act once introductions were over. Or at best, grunting as a form of acknowledgement, but not looking at me. Later he told me he did a good job and will be back tomorrow.

An earthquake this evening; a big boom, shook this detached house twice, and that was it, this was after my in-chair sleep, and I was active in the kitchen at the time. A rare instance when the assholes didn't have exam studying, on-the-phone events arranged simultaneously.

Tucking in the vineyard all day, good sunny hot weather, which I now have come to like, ever since 2010 when the perps changed my temperature tolerance level, now at the point that is in excess of 40C.

After work on the errands shuttle, two strikeouts; the wretched alterations lady had that infernal sign up again, "Back in 20 minutes.." while the pit lamping (headlights on) mega dude with the big tattoos on his sizable arms and long hair strangely sat in his vehicle for the two minutes it took to park, walk to the store front, find it was closed (temporarily apparently) and for me to return to my vehicle and drive off, infuriated yet again, having three strikeouts in one week. The store is only open four days a week, and for three of them I was skunked. The Dashed Expectations theme again.

And if that weren't enough, I drove to the shoe maker to see about my boots that were delaminating in the sole, for the third time. Why the Fuckwit didn't repair all of the sole and not just the heels is beyond me, as he claims he fixes Chinese made boots and sells Canadian ones. I have only two pairs of work boots and he has the other pair as well, as they need to be re-soled. And lo, if he doesn't finish early on Fridays, as his hours indicated that he finishes up at 1600h on Fridays. Two skunks in succession, and we know who likes to pull that stunt don't we?

 Then off to get my vehicle fueled up, which is strangely going through a lot of gasoline and yet is driven fewer miles.

My debit card got messed up at the pump and I had to go inside to have it rest. After fueling the printer wouldn't print my receipt. On top of that the pump was extraordinarily slow, taking 2x as long. And have I mentioned how much the perps like to noisestalk or otherwise sabotage fuel transfers?

Summer Solstice and Fathers Day all rolled into one. This being a Sunday, and as of Saturday evening, I hadn't received any mail, thinking I might get a card from my daughter for the second time ever. Weekly mail delivery is Mon. to Friday only, so I figured no card. But no, the landlord held my mail back and brought the envelope Sunday morning, placing it at the door for crissakes. Artful withholding of my mail to cause an incorrect notion to ponder. Haven't we done this a few hundred times or more, as in many hundreds of like events in any given year? Just the usual FUD-dery, as in Doubt this time. Or perhaps FUDE, as in E for Erroneous determination.

I went for a hike to a closer location, as both my heavy duty boots are out of action. The shoemaker has one pair that is there for new soles, and the other pair has the sole coming off in places on account of his earlier partial repairs that didn't last, entirely predictable IMHO.

This was meant to be a real trail, low grade (below 20%), as I was hiking in my runners. It was not to be, as the bull was at the gate, where the cattle guard is. Like WTF, this is inside a provincial park, and two kilometers closer than the last bull event of two years ago, when I had to abort a hike because of a threatening bull. A hiking couple arrived nearby, and told me there was a backwoods trail up the side hill, and the bull didn't bother them as it was in the opposite direction, and steep, some 80+%. I took this "route", as it was a scrambling trail with loose scree rock. So it would seem this entire adverse event was to get me hiking on difficult terrain in running shoes, which I never, ever use for rough ground. A total piss off, as I now had to negotiate difficult terrain in inappropriate footwear. And we know who exploits new situations don't we? Especially if it has something to do with one's balance.

I scrambled up enough terrain to find a rocky ledge to then get tanning for a few hours.

Apologies for not getting this posted online two days ago, keeping to a weekly format, but I got hit with a baby ant invasion in the kitchen and all the duress that goes with cleaning it up.

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