Monday, February 17, 2014

Extracurricular Activities

Seven days.

It has been seven days since my return from South Carolina.

It has been seven days since I've had running water in my home.

While I was gone in South Carolina, my water lines froze. I initially thought it was due to the house getting too cold, but we found out that it was more likely that the supply line froze under the driveway. We have attempted several different run-around methods of supplying water to my trailer, one including a 130-foot hose spanned from the water pit to my outside hydrant, but the bitterly cold temperature started freezing the water in the hose. My roommate Nate and I have been carrying buckets of water into the house for toilet use, but the dishes and laundry are piling up. Fortunately, this next week's forecast is calling for delicious above-freezing temperatures, so hopefully things will thaw out and I'll again be able to take showers at my own place. Funny how we get so used to something and in an instant, it all changes. So many things are affected by a lack of running water. I think the moral of the story is "Don't procrastinate on cleaning and washing and scrubbing because that luxury might be taken away without a moment's notice." I cooked some food the other day and went to wash my hands out of sheer instinct, until I realized that the simple act of washing hands would require a 50-yard trek through the snow to get a bucket of water. "50 yards, carrying a 5-gallon bucket full of water! Might as well be a triathalon! Eh, I'll just wipe my hands on my pants. That'll do for now."



At that statement, I can almost hear the inhabitants of third-world countries laughing at me. "Only 50 yards! You're a lucky man, Mr. Graber!" I won't deny that I've been utterly spoiled by running water, and I regret taking it for granted.

"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet 
trials of various kinds." 
-James 1:2, ESV

Work has been fairly hectic due to the toe-curling, goose-bumping, teeth-chattering cold. We have been running all over the place rescuing customers from certain peril. I've been catching up on paperwork in the office, which seemingly tripled in my week-long absence.

I told my friend Polly that I would rather make a snow angel in my underpants than deal with company taxes and the correlating paperwork. Sharp, bitter, stinging cold for a horrible 20 seconds sounds far more appealing than days and days of reports, summaries, accountant's revisions, and stacks of papers threatening to avalanche down upon me if I speak too loudly.

But I didn't make any snow angels, clothed or otherwise. "I'd totally jump in the snow," I said to my friend, "if I had access to a hot shower."

I'm a man of my word. Today after a few rigorous games of basketball with some friends, I was sufficiently roasted. Finding the nearest snow drift, I jumped in and made a snow angel. I'm not entirely devoid of brains; I knew I could revive myself (and stave off hypothermia) in the locker room showers, if necessary.


We will conveniently forget the part where I said I'd do it in my underpants.

My brother Shane is a senior this year, which just feels weird. I told him to stop growing up, and he deliberately disobeyed! It was wonderful to watch him tearing up the Senior Night game. He's grown into a hard-working, sociable, Godly gentleman, and I couldn't be more proud.

 There are four male seniors at Pathway this year, which is exactly double the amount of male seniors when I graduated. But Terry and I were totally more mature than these guys...
DON'T BELIEVE A WORD MY MOM SAYS. 




My friend Jordan got a new Settlers expansion so we tried it out earlier this week.



"Settlers of Catan: Explorers and Pirates" was complex and involved sea ports, sailing vessels, discovering new land, pirates, and little gold coins. Kendal soundly whipped Jordan and I but I demand a rematch.


A few months ago, nearer the beginning of this awful Winter Without End, I had the red-dot scope on my Tavor quit. Thinking it was a battery problem, I attempted to remove the battery and replace it with a fresh one. But the battery wouldn't slide out. Upon close inspection, I saw the gritty ooze of battery corrosion, which might as well have been Crazy Glue. After a few frustrated attempts with a needle-nosed pliers, I straight-up MacGuyvered the battery out of there.

Kids, don't do this at home. Do it at work, where you have access to power tools. 
(And running water, in case of emergency.)

I took a lag bolt and screwed it directly into the battery. With the bolt sticking out, I was able to exert a lot more leverage on the battery, thereby pulling it out of the compartment.

The battery compartment was still coated in corrosion, so I was unable to put another battery in it. I contacted Lucid and Duracell headquarters to see if I could get some repairs underway. Lucid's owner, Jason Wilson, informed me that he was familiar with the battery corrosion problem, and his success rate for repairing it was one-in-ten. He also informed me that if he was unable to repair the scope, he could sell me a replacement one at the manufacturing cost. Meanwhile, the kind technician at Duracell informed me that they would be willing to consider covering repair costs for the scope, provided their warranty claims department gave the go-ahead. They advised me to send the scope in to Lucid and see if it could be repaired first. (Little known fact: most major battery companies will repair, refund, or replace items that their batteries have ruined.)

So I sent the scope (and a letter describing all the events that led up to the battery failure) to Wyoming, where Lucid is based. A week later, I received a call from Jason, telling me that the scope was unable to be repaired. "You had this optic mounted on a Tavor, is that correct?" Jason asked me. "Yes..." I replied, cautiously. I was nervous that he'd say something to the effect of "Well our teeny tiny fine print that you failed to read CLEARLY states that you can't put our fine product on any rifle produced in Israel..." Instead, he said, "Tell you what. I'm going to send you another scope, if you'll take a few action photos and send them to me in return." I nearly dropped my phone in surprise.

The scope arrived while I was in South Carolina, so upon returning I placed it on my rifle. I didn't get around to taking photos until yesterday, where I employed the help of Brooks and Amanda.


Kids, if you spend an inordinately large quantity of dollars on a nice rifle, 
some accessory companies will send you free stuff and ask for photographs in return. 




Props to my friend and photographer Amanda, who fearlessly trudged through 
snow drifts and stood in the muzzle blast of my rifle to catch unique snapshots.
While I was lying prone for a few photos, Nigel came over and licked my face clean. 
I think he could tell I hadn't showered.

Brooks donned a Ghillie suit, rolled around in the snow, and smeared some grease 
on his face to create these exceptional photos. If, in your life's travels, you find a 
friend willing to do things like that, keep him.

Brooks and I started out our Saturday by racing over to Central Discount and purchasing groceries and snacks. I ate a Frosted Honey Bun and it essentially changed my life. We returned, took some gun photos, then ran over to Kerri's to celebrate Amanda's birthday. We asked Amanda what it felt like to have a birthday on Valentine's day, and she said it was pretty cool except occasionally sad, when other girls would receive more flowers and gifts than she did.

All told, it was a long week filled with lots and lots of work, with every spare moment crammed with extracurricular activities; just the way I like it.

"I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil--this is God's gift to man."

-Ecclesiastes 3:12-13, ESV

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