For months I’ve been asking people if there existed something to turn ordinary speakers into wireless speakers. Because I’ve got plenty of speakers, but I didn’t want to run wires all over my farmhouse. There’s just no good way to hide all the wires like I’ve done in other houses. People all said they thought there was, but no one could actually show me one. Not at the stores, not on the web. Even the Radio Shack wasn’t any help. So imagine my glee when X10 announced they had a new “turn regular speakers into wireless speakers” kit. A bit pricey, but I had enough X10 gift certificates saved up (thanks to their crazy frequent customer rewards program) that it was cheap enough to order two.

I heard on the radio as I drove home tonight that the national guard unit in my hometown of St. Clair, Missouri, is being sent to Kosovo. My high school sweetheart was (is?) a member of that unit. [ I haven’t had contact with her in about ten years. I sometimes wonder what she’s up to. I know she’s had some hard times since we last spoke, and I hope that, wherever she is, she’s doing OK.] I wonder how many people I know are being sent.

Over Christmas, an Athens columnist accidentally ingested a half cup of methanol. Four teaspoons are fatal. The doctor gave her five minutes to say goodbye to her family. She came out OK, and wrote about those five minutes.

Dragon eats moon, thousands riot.

It’s been a very nice morning thus far. I filed my taxes, and $1400 are coming back to me, thanks to my interest-free loan to the federal and state governments. I ordered some chickens -- a mix of rare heirloom breeds that will lay several colors of eggs. And, I had Jamaican ox tail for lunch. Mmmmm-mmmmm!

A Year ago, Mike at LarkFarm logged Walton Feed’s Old Timer’s Page, with lots of stories and how-to’s from the old days of farming. Making butter, hand harvesting wheat, knowing where to dog a well – those kinds of things. Walton feed has changed to URL in the last year, so Mike’s link doesn’t work anymore. Here’s the correct address.

Meanwhile, in New Mexico, 17 are hurt in a massive propane explosion.

I’m OK. The house hasn’t blown up. A gas company person finally came by. He tested the tank for leaks and found nothing. When asked about the hissing, he said that that was just the sound of gas going through the pipes. When asked about the smell, he said he couldn’t smell anything, but admitted that his nose (well past the age of retirement) was desensitized to the smell of propane. The smell’s not as strong as it once once, and the pressure guage is now holding steady. Perhaps the tank had some of that sealant goop in it like the stuff you put in bicycle tires, and the leak sealed itself. I’ll focus my worries on something else now, I suppose.

A loved the Happy Hollisters when I was in early grade school. I think I read every one of the books while in second grade. I was such a nerd even then that I would hide from my teacher (behind a bookshelf, no less) while she rounded the class up for recess. They went out to play, I came out of hiding to read in the library. When I think about it now, she had to have known I was hiding from her, but she let me get away with it anyway.

It’s been a busy few days. Too busy for link sharing. Not that I could have anyway, as the net connection at work was out for the last day and a half. Someone in the building futzed with the phone line box (the one with the gazillion colored wires in it), trying to swap phones in their office, and blew out our DSL. It’s back now, after a lot of diagnosing. On the home front, my house is now heated again, after having no heat at all for almost a week. The propane in the big yard propane tank ran dry, and the gas company, true to form, messed up royally on delivery. Now that the tank is full, it’s clear that the tank is, in fact, leaking. By my estimate, about 50 gallons has hissed into the air since the gas man came yesterday (that’d be about $200 worth). There’s a part on top the tank that’s hissing, and the air around the tank smells like propane. You’d think that’s be a big deal, pretty important, especially if you read the warning on the tank that says to evacuate the property and call the authorities if you hear or smell gas. I didn’t evacuate, but I did call the gas company’s emergency number. The operator took my number and said the emergency people would be calling me right back. An hour later, after no word, I called again. The emergency person hadn’t returned the original page, I was told, and that I’d hear from them soon. I went to bed, and now, 16 hours later, there’s still been no call. I guess it’s not a big deal to the gas company. This morning I caled the Georgia Public Utility Commission to complain about the gas company, but found out that LP Gas companies aren’t regulated in Georgia (natural gas companies are). They transferred me to the state Fire Marshall. The woman there got real excited when I mentioned that the gas tank next to my house was hissing and smelled like gas. She took my name and number and said that a fire marshall would call me right back with instructions. That was five hours ago. I guess it’s not a big deal to the fire marshall. So, maybe it’s not a big deal. But if you come to visit me, don’t light up, okay?