There was a rumor going around the plant this morning that we'd all be getting off at 11:00 or 12:00 today because of inventory tomorrow. However, at the morning meeting, Inspector Gadget dispelled that rumor by telling us we would be working all day, until 2:00.
Along about 10:00, that very same Inspector Gadget came around and told us all to go home at 11:00. He didn't have to tell me twice. Truth is, we were about the last ones to leave. The lines started leaving shortly after 9:00. Not to worry, it's always this way during inventory week.
Things get weird during inventory week. Oh, and funny thing, I was talking to Demi-god yesterday, and he didn't believe me that we used to go in at 5:00 AM and would sometimes have to stay until 8:00 or 9:00 at night. I told him it was true, and to just ask his daddy. This morning, I bumped into the two of them in the main break room, and said, "Hey Chris, tell him how inventory used to be. He doesn't believe me." That was all it took. He went on an absolute tirade, telling Demi-god that they had to stay even longer than we did, and sometimes he didn't get out of there until midnight.
They used to buy us pizza for lunch, too, but stopped because people were stealing the pizzas. Yep, they'd go into the break room and get a whole stack of pizzas and go put them out into their cars. Then there wouldn't be enough for the rest of us. You know, the honest ones.
It being a beautiful day, when I got home, I put a little fire in the fire pit, made myself a sandwich and had a picnic in the back yard.
For dessert, yes I even went there.
I was good, though. I only had one. Truth is, I was a bit disappointed in these marshmallows. They've got a bit of chocolate in the middle, but it doesn't melt enough for my tastes. I think I'll put them into some hot chocolate instead, then buy some regular marshmallows for toasting.
Speaking of, I might have a lead on some firewood. Demi-god and I were chatting a bit this morning before shift started, and he said something about them cutting out all of the overtime and how tight it's making things around his house. He's trying to support a wife and two kids on his one salary.
Anyway, in the course of the conversation he said, "If things get much worse, me and my dad might have to sell some firewood to make up the difference."
"Oooh, I need some firewood," I said right away. I told him I have slightly less than a face cord left, but I'll need some more before it's all over, so if they do decide to sell firewood, to hit me up. I'll buy some.
By the way, I probably ought to give Demi-god a new blog nickname. See, when he first came back to sub-brazing, he was bragging about how many headers he could do in a day, and acting like he was the best brazer that ever lived, and that he was the only one who knew anything about brazing, blah, blah, blah. So, I started calling him the Demi-god of brazing, since that's what he seemed to think he was. After a few months on the shift that actually has to follow the schedule and do the orders the line needs rather than skipping down and picking all the big orders of easy parts, his attitude has mellowed quite a bit. Now, he's the one that complains the most about second shift.
Well, not now because we don't have a second shift, but you know what I mean.
Anyway, after I'd finished my lunch, I decided to get the two bags of garden soil that have been riding around in my car for nearly a week out and put them into my raised beds. Between those, and the two I'd bought previously, I was able to get all four sections half way full.
This is how much one bag was able to fill the bed. Well, one section of one of the beds.
That means it might not be as expensive to fill all of my raised beds as I'd originally thought -- especially if I can keep getting soil on clearance. I think tomorrow after inventory, I'll run into town and get two more bags and finish filling at least two sections.
I'd thought about trying to get the garden spot leveled a bit more, but the red clay was still too mucky to work with, so that'll have to wait for another day. Instead, I sat down in my chair and enjoyed the beautiful day just a bit longer.
And finally, my car must have heard me griping because my low tire pressure light finally went out. OK, OK, I know. Sometimes you just have to drive it around a bit for the sensor to sense and set itself. Or whatever it does.
Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a mug of hot chocolate calling my name. With a stuffed marshmallow in it.
Laters.
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