**** I just realized I had a post on weldless fittings already, so I am cutting this post down to just my March pump switch****

The next challenge was to figure out a good way to wire my March 809 pump to some sort of switch or button. I went with a cool lighted blue button. Push the button, pump comes on, light comes on. Push button again and both go off. This very easily could have been a simple light switch from home depot instead, but hey, that's just not cool enough. Plus, this way I learned more stuff.

Wait a sec broham, what is that other mystery button?

Worry not old chum, we will cover that later.

I had bear of a time getting the button configured, and had to resort to asking for help on the dreaded interweb. It could have been my lack of electrical knowledge, or it could have been the plethora of pints I drank in the process of trying to figure it all out. In the end, I did get it all working properly, and I am quite pleased with the results.

So here is the progress so far. It is starting to look more like a Brutus 10, and less like a pile of random parts, every day.

It is funny how some projects start off as really kick ass, and then eventually they sort of get annoying. I wouldn't necessarily label the Brutus 10 clone build as annoying per se, but I do wish that it was completed already. I am WAY behind schedule, and it is right around 100 degrees in the garage during the day now, which makes working on it a real scorcher. I had a few personal setbacks which threw the schedule off, but I am back on track now, and hopefully I will be cranking out sweet golden nectar within a month.

Hooray beer!

I took a break from the Brutus 10 clone build, through no fault of my own. I am back on track now though, and should have an update or two in the coming days. In the meantime...

I was at the store the other day purchasing some lovely alcoholic libations. There were two old people in front of me. They were REALLY slow, and they were really old. They were also pushing the limits of the "15 items or less" rule as stated by the sign. Listen Mortimer and Helen, if you have 14 tubs of denture cleaner, that does not count as one item, unless perhaps they are contained within some sort of jump pack, and are sold with one price. [This applies to everyone by the way] There were also several patrons in line behind me, and they were quite impatient. They were making snide remarks under their breath, and sighing heavily to display their discontent with the situation.

I started to think that perhaps as I have gotten older that I am just more tolerant to these kinds of predicaments. I did not care in the least bit that these elderly folk were jamming up the works at the local Kroger. I didn't care that they were probably buying more than 15 items in the clearly marked 15 items or less lane. Awesome, I am getting older, and therefore more mature, I am beginning to understand more and more how the world functions, and how humans grow and learn and adapt.

But then something else occurred to me. The impatient people behind me were older than I am, so rather than reveling in my new found skill of tolerance to meaningless situations that do not merit ill will, I came to realize that in general, people are just assholes, and that I had basically stayed the same. I am not an asshole. I suppose I could portray an asshole as a character if I chose, but I would be basing the character on people in line at the grocery store, and nothing inside my self. I suppose that, in and of itself, is a self realization, so it was not a total loss.

Completely different subject....

On the way home from work the other day at 6:30am [YEAH, AM], I saw a lady walking down the street. I mean she was IN the street, walking against the oncoming traffic. On the other side of the road, lay a perfect quality, recently renovated, nice, smooth sidewalk. This is rush hour traffic sweetheart. Well, as much as rush hour can be in a relatively residential part of a small Dallas suburb. Why would she do that?

I looked at her face as I drove by, and she appeared to be a sane, lucid, normal lady, approximately in her mid 50s. She did have a big ass, but her perhaps that was why she was walking in the first place. I could not associate the size of her ass to why she was walking in this fashion. I was, and still am, baffled by this. The only theory I could muster was that she was a crazy. A bona fide street walkin' crazy, and that her disguise was that of a "normie".

Whenever I see things like that, I always daydream that later, on the evening news, I will see a report of that same lady having been run over and killed. This rarely happens though. Or does it? What if my daydreams killed people? Hmmmm....

Been a few weeks. I have suffered a tremendous loss. We had to let our sweet baby Quasar kitty go. He had advanced heart disease which led to kidney failure. This caught us completely by surprise, because he had no symptoms, until one day he looked a little bit skinny. He had not been eating. We took him to the vet, and he weighed less than 7 pounds, after weighing around 10-11 pounds the majority of his life. The vet gave him some subcutaneous fluids and some pills to make him hungry, and drew blood for testing. The next day, the news was dire, and we were left with no choice but to have him put to sleep. I know beyond any doubt, that this was the absolute best, right, and only thing to do, but nonetheless, this devastated us to the core. We feel lost and empty without him.

We do not have children, so Quasar was our child. We loved him, and he loved us. We talked to him as if he was a normal family member, and he talked back. When we left the house, he would walk us to the door, and he would be right there when we got back, ready to greet us, and show us that he was grateful that we were back. He was a part of everything we did. He was our best friend. He was also more than that. He symbolized a constant in our lives. A symbol of continuity. He was a fixture that represented happiness and solidarity. I don't know if any of that makes sense, but it is hard to put into words. We saw him every single day, talked to him every single day, played with him every single day, and enjoyed his company every single day. So we will never completely overcome the lack of his presence.

He was a silly cat, so he matched our personalities perfectly. He also looked like a jigsaw puzzle of some sort, due to his unusual markings. When we adopted him in 2002, he had just been neutered, and was still reeling in the affects of the anesthesia. He was laying in his litter box. He tried to get up to engage us but was too 'drunk', and stumbled around until laying right back down in his litter. We knew right then and there, that he was for us. From then on, he always enjoyed cramming himself into cardboard boxes and plastic bags, so we made sure to always have one around for him to play with. He preferred the ones that were a little too small, so that he could barely fit inside them, much like his litter box the first day we saw him.

In the end, he remained proud and happy. I do not think he suffered very much at all. He was in good spirits and had his wits about him in his last few days. He stayed in his house a lot more than usual, but when he heard us stirring around doing this or that, he would still come out to check on us, and make sure we were ok, and that he didn't miss anything. I took the day off from work to take him to the vet, so I was able to spend the entire day with him, as well as the next day before the vet called with the bad news. He was fatigued and somewhat lethargic, but you could tell that mentally he was strong. He was still rubbing his face all over us and purring. My gal asked if she could hold him in her arms on the way to the vet for the last time. That is the image I keep thinking of over and over again. He looked tired, but still happy. He was glad to be with his momma and daddy.

A picture is worth more than words of course, so I will provide a montage for anyone who was not lucky enough to meet him, and to serve as a memorial for those who were. You can click on the images for larger versions.