Reality-checks

I am obviously still living in the real world, but since my wife died things are so messed up I have to keep reminding myself.
I have two indicators thereof:
—One is the dog’s chicken.
Every night I cut up a pre-cooked chicken-thigh to put on the dog’s supper.
I do this on an old Melmac© plate, which I give to the dog after I’m done.
The dog looks forward to that plate.
I call this “the daily reality-check.”
I only started giving her that plate a couple months ago; that is, the custom doesn’t go back before my wife died.
—Second is our stand-by generator’s self-test.

Photo by BobbaLew.

The stand-by generator.

We installed a Generac© stand-by electric generator for in case the electricity fails, which it does fairly often out here in the country.
A car-accident may take out a power-pole, or a lightning-strike might disable a power transformer.
Sometimes ice brings down power-lines, in which case that stand-by might be on for hours.
The stand-by is automatic. It kicks on when the electricity fails.
I don’t have it pushing everything, only the furnace and tankless water-heater (both of which need electricity), the freezer and refrigerator, this computer, and the garage-door opener.
The garage door is so big and heavy it takes two to open it manually.
The stand-by is also pushing lights.
30 seconds pass before it kicks on, so you’re in darkness for 30 seconds.
The stand-by runs on natural-gas. For Armageddon to occur, that gas has to stop.
The stand-by self-tests once a week.
It apparently has an internal clock, so when 6:50 p.m. comes around on Tuesdays it self-tests, firing up.
It’s a large V-twin commercial engine (one liter displacement). It starts on a car-battery.
I keep forgetting it self-tests. Yesterday was Tuesday, and I was in my bathroom at 6:50 p.m.
That bathroom is right over that stand-by (which is outside).
All-of-a-sudden it was cranking and firing up.
It reduced me to tears. “You are indeed in the real world, dude,” I said to myself.

Another reality-check:
The other day (probably Sunday, October 21st) I was walking my dog to the park up the street for her afternoon walk.
Suddenly an old convertible cruised past, top up. Probably a late-‘40s Oldsmobile.
It wasn’t a Chevy; I recognize Chevy taillights from that era.
The taillights were round, so I surmised Pontiac.

1947 Pontiac convertible.

But it couldn’t be a Pontiac; it lacked the Silver-Streak on the hood and trunklid.
It passed me from behind, so I never saw the front. I’d know an Olds grille from that time.
Reality-check!
How often do I see a car like that?
Mostly what I see are no older than early ‘90s.

• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17, 2012. Like me she was 68. I miss her dearly.
• RE: “Out here in the country......” — I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield in Western NY, 20-25 miles southeast of Rochester.
• A “tankless water-heater” is a small water-heater that heats water as it passes through. I doesn’t heat a tank of water which eventually cools — and also runs out during showers.