Mud

Mud:

See Ice-nine (Cat's Cradle).

😉
Loyal

Loyal, post: 454841, member: 228 wrote: Mud:

See Ice-nine (Cat's Cradle).

😉
Loyal

Bokonon would be proud....

Vonnegut makes my head hurt.

Black brightens my day.

I do like the idea, though, of using ice-nine to conquer mud. But, a means to reverse ice-nine would help to leave the mud for any latecomers.

Baxter is quite the poet. I'd lose a thousand dollars just to sit and play poker with him all night so I could listen to him.

Loyal, post: 454841, member: 228 wrote: Mud:

See Ice-nine (Cat's Cradle).

😉
Loyal

I used the word granfalloon in a message yesterday to someone that I had a shared heritage specific to a square in an old urban area. I wondered afterward if they caught the meaning. I don't know why I used it. I did meet a language teacher a few weeks ago that claimed he taught an honors HS course about Vonnegut.

"Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, mans gotta sit and wonder 'why,why, why.'"
Vonnegut was a poet, too!

Several years ago on a job, I jumped down about 4' into what I thought was a dried-up retaining pond. Turns out only the top tenth or two of crust was dry, everything below it was slush. Sunk almost to my hips immediately, and every time I tried to lift one foot the other sunk further down. I yelled at my party chief and got him to bring me a shovel, and I started digging. A couple machine operators had driven over near the pond to pick up a track hoe and noticed my predicament, so they rumbled over in that big bastard, lowered the bucket down in front of me, and I grabbed onto the side & hoped for the best. They picked my big a$$ up while I clung on for dear life, then neatly set me back down on the bank. My party chief was on the ground busting a gut he was laughing so hard. I had to carry an extra 40 lbs of mud in my pants and boots the rest of the day, and every time one of the dirt guys saw me they'd start chuckling, but it will probably always be one of my favorite memories from the field. Just glad an OSHA inspector didn't decide to make a site inspection that day.

I know some of you probably won't believe me, but it's a true and real thing: Mentally reversing the polarity of your boots to repel mud instead of attracting it.

Case in point: One day, looking for pins, I led a crew across a some newly graded building pads. It was you basic Oklahoma red clay, very cohesive: with a PI of probably around 40. It had rained a gully-washer the night before and the surface was not unlike goose crap.

By the time we made it to the rear property line everybody but me had 10 pounds of red clay sucked tight to their boots. One of the guys asked me how I was able to keep the mud off my boots. I explained, "you have to practice...but you can mentally reverse the polarity of your lower extremities and actually repel the iron content of the red clay."

One crew member called BS (oh, yea of little faith) but the other heard what I was saying. In a few weeks he was also able to tenderly walk on snot-slick red subgrade and collect very little on his boots.

I know there's a few of you out there that know what I'm talking about. 😉

PoorPDOP, post: 454884, member: 8412 wrote: Several years ago on a job, I jumped down about 4' into what I thought was a dried-up retaining pond. Turns out only the top tenth or two of crust was dry, everything below it was slush. Sunk almost to my hips immediately, and every time I tried to lift one foot the other sunk further down. I yelled at my party chief and got him to bring me a shovel, and I started digging. A couple machine operators had driven over near the pond to pick up a track hoe and noticed my predicament, so they rumbled over in that big bastard, lowered the bucket down in front of me, and I grabbed onto the side & hoped for the best. They picked my big a$$ up while I clung on for dear life, then neatly set me back down on the bank. My party chief was on the ground busting a gut he was laughing so hard. I had to carry an extra 40 lbs of mud in my pants and boots the rest of the day, and every time one of the dirt guys saw me they'd start chuckling, but it will probably always be one of my favorite memories from the field. Just glad an OSHA inspector didn't decide to make a site inspection that day.

Saved your life.

The window in my office overlooks the north end of Lake Washington where I can watch sea planes land and take off and boats float by. In spite of what Gavin said it is a beautiful sunny day at the moment. The Sammamish River outfalls here in a defined channel marked by red and green buoys. While reading this thread some unlucky chap with about a 28' sailboat steamed out of the channel and cut the corner a bit tight and stuffed it into the bottom. He must have some experience with this because he has put up the mainsail and is unrolling the jib. I expect that he will free himself in due time. They usually do. In all fairness the lake is down a couple feet as designed this time of year.

[MEDIA=youtube]3TosA9Z3sjA[/MEDIA]

Over 2 decades ago now (and it seems like yesterday) I was a working as an I-Man and my party chief was about 300 feet ahead driving in center of road stakes on a new subdivision site in west Cobb County, GA. It had rained recently and the typical red clay was super cohesive and went my PC finished driving the stake he stood to move and his boots had suctioned in and he wound up loosing his balance and fell backwards into the mud and got entirely suck into that mess. He had to wallow around in that slop for quite a while to work himself loose. It was a sight to behold from a distance through the scope while laughing like a little kid.

After the flood of '93 there were thousands of elevation certificate requests in the St. Louis area. We were hitting 8 or 10 a day, which was decent for the area.
One morning we pulled up a block over from a string of 5 or 6 with 2 RMs a few hundred feet away. All I had to do was walk out on tge flat, shoot the 1st bench then turn through each house checking in to the second bench. Easy money.
About 20 feet off the road I broke through. I was in just above my waste when I bottomed out. In the time it took to dig out I had bruised from the hips to my feet. I was sick for a week and the pain lasted a month or more.
Now I live in the desert.