Jeremy: Looks like I-5 north of Salem. How close am I?

Mike

Mornin' G-Man and all. 61 now to 78 in pm in PDX. Air quality has improved slightly to high 400s, but no wind to push out trapped contaminated air. Need rain badly and enough wind to scour out the Willamette Valley without making fires worse. We'll make it. Just worried now about those in the path of Sally. It's tough being a knucklehead on top of everything else going on. Stay the course - we'll get there.

Go G-Man !!

Welcome back G-Man. I trust you'll be back soon and able to tie your knots without specs - for 2# leader.

John: I don't know if this will help you for Oklahoma, but this is what WA state required for me when I finished a drift boat and went to get it tagged:
- Note that boat is home made
- Provide receipts for all materials used in building the boat. I included paints, hardware, caulking, wood, screws, bolts, oar locks, etc. Perhaps you can get a bill of sale from your father if that could help and call it "salvage frame" or some such thing.
- DMV gave me the tags after the above info was provided, and registration document with registration number, VIN, decal for fire safety.
- I was required to install VIN plates (2) on transom and hull, and a capacity plate. I ordered these through Amazon. You should be able to find the formula for capacity on the internet or through your local marine authority, but it's based on gunnel length and beam width as I recall.

Hope this can help you get started on your project.
Mike Fain

Amen, CH, and prayers for those in the west who have lost, or about to lose everything to the fires. At the noon hour here in the Portland area, it looks like the evening dusk. I don't know how the fire fighters are managing the fight and priorities with high demand for limited resources. God help us.

Thanks Plum. Will do in the future. My last post to Greg was referring to Greg's eye surgery today. Cheers.
Mike

Just pretend you're having fun & DON'T BLINK !!!!

When is your next eye appt?

Mike

Greg:
I take no issue with the advice from Plum, Dave & others. Regarding the distribution box noted by Plum, that would equate to the parallel lines I mentioned in my earlier reply. 2 or more parallel lines can cut your length of pipe runs if you are limited in available land. If the land isn't flat, you can get the pipe fairly level by following the contours of your land using a surveyor's level. Dig your pipe trench at 2% and check with a contractor for recommended horizontal spacing. Hope this helps.
Mike

Greg:
This reply comes from a retired civil engineer and a former home owner w/septic system. My system had a 1,000 gallon tank that collected and bacterially broke down solids to mix with the liquids. The liquids drained through about a 3-inch overflow pipe from near the top of the tank to a deeper sump similar to a manhole for infiltration into the soil. Alternately, I have seen a series of perforated drain lines running parallel with each other from a header connected to the main drain coming out of the tank. This latter system is generally more economical because it requires less depth if you have room and can create a gentle slope on your property. You will want to place some pea gravel as bedding for the pipe and bring it a few inches above the top of the pipe. The liquid will disperse through the perforations of the pipe and infiltrate into the soil.

The total length of pipe needed is going to be a function of the drainage characteristics of the soil, the number of fixtures (faucets, toilets, etc.) and whatever your local jurisdiction may require in terms of design, tying two residences to the same system, etc. For professional services you may get be able to use your existing system, but I would recommend checking with your local authority. If that authority requires an infiltration test for the soils, for its infiltration rates, you should be able to find a local engineer to produce the results needed for a new design. Or maybe you can get by, by treating this as a temporary hook-up to your own system. You should check with the authority on this.

If you do a new system, plan the locations of your cleanouts, and the cover access for your tank so that access for maintenance is not impaired. My county did not have good records for the location of the tank nor the access lid and I had to break up a concrete patio to find it.

There are other alternatives out there that may be more practical, or with other design which may include electronics and pumping you could check into by contacting a qualified contractor in your area. You could probably get some free advice from an equipment supplier or contractor. If you need clarification on anything here Greg, let me know.
Mike

Cautionary notice to all Stagers:
I would put the flammability index of white gas as volatile as any gasoline - regular, high octane, with or without ethanol, etc. I'm pretty confident that the Surgeon General will not be issuing any warning about using gasoline and its relatives in any device that does not have a combustion engine. You will have to rely on your own instincts.
Treys & Jacks

Cautionary notice to all Stagers:
I would put the flammability index of white gas as volatile as any gasoline - regular, high octane, with or without ethanol, etc. I'm pretty confident that the Surgeon General will not be issuing any warning about using gasoline and its relatives in any device that does not have a combustion engine. You will have to rely on your own instincts.
Treys & Jacks

The Cat

When I was a young lad of about 10 years, I lived in a modest house with my parents, two sisters and my brother in Gresham, then a very sparsely developed suburb of Portland, OR. There were several other boys in the neighborhood, enough to field two, three man teams for playing baseball, which we did almost every day in the summer. To make our “field” large enough, we combined our back yard with that of our neighbor. The major league stars of the day included Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Harmon Killebrew, Frank Robinson, Roberto Clemente, Warren Spahn, and many others. We tried to emulate our heroes by swinging for the fences on any hittable pitch. Likewise, when it was our turn to pitch, tried our best to strike out the side by throwing curve balls low and away like Whitey, or fastballs like a Herb Feller.

The games were intense more than they were friendly. We debated foul balls, home runs, what was a “safe”, or an “out” call, a fair vs. a foul ball, etc. We held the collective fervent hope that our parents would not call us to do a chore, or help on some other unimportant item that could always wait since it was seldom as important as the game at hand.

As it happened, my mother didn’t rank her priorities in the same order as my own. And one day she called for me to go to the freezer in the garage and bring her a loaf of bread and some frozen fruit. She was making lunch and needed to finish up before Dad got home from work for his lunch break. I begged the guys for a short break and ran to the garage, opened the freezer, ran into the house out of breath with the bread and a container of fruit. As I was running out the door to get back to the game, Mom reminded me to be sure to make sure the freezer door was closed so I was able to catch the edge of the freezer door and close it as I ran by. The game was back on. We had about an hour before other parents would be calling their boys home for lunch. And it wasn’t likely that we would be getting a full complement of players back for the game. It turns out that other mothers had chores for their sons as well.

Before lunch I was asked by Mom to feed our cat, Toby. Toby could hear the sound of the can opener opening his food, even at 3 houses away and was always there before his canned food was dropped in his dish. Except today was an exception. No Toby. So I left his food in its normal place by the back door. After my quick lunch, I went outside to await the return of the teams. Shortly after I left the house, Mom screamed and called my name. Dad was still home.

As I got to the house, I could hear her crying in the garage. She had come out to put the leftover fruit back in the freezer. I could sense that I was going to be central to a major family episode. Mom looked at me and as tears streamed down her face said, “I think you left Toby in the freezer.” This, was that major family episode.

As Dad was pulling the cat out of the freezer, he said that he thought Toby might be okay – but he wasn’t moving. He instructed Mom to call the vet right away and ask what we could do. Mom returned to the scene of the episode and said the vet told her to give Toby a half teaspoon of white gas (the forerunner of Coleman lantern and stove fuel). Dad says “That’s crazy”. Mom says the vet advises that the gas needs to be no more than a half teaspoon, but that she will need help holding him and opening his mouth. Dad found the white gas, Mom got the teaspoon, and I held Toby while trying to keep him calm and warm.

Together, we struggled to get Toby in a position of calm but firm restraint, while Dad opened Toby’s mouth, and Mom used an eye dropper to suck up the fuel in the spoon, then squirt the fuel to the back of the cat’s tongue. Once the fuel was inserted, all hell broke loose.

Toby screeched and screamed as he ran in circles for about 30 seconds, then plopped over on his side. There was no movement. It was my fault. I asked Dad, “Did Toby die?”

Dad said, “No. No, he didn’t die. He just ran out of gas.”

The Donkey

Young Doyle moved to Texas and bought a donkey from a farmer for $100.00. The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day. The next day he drove up and said, “Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died.” Doylee replied, “Well, then just give me my money back.” The farmer said, “Can't do that. I went and spent it already.” Doyle said, “OK, then, just bring me the dead donkey.” The farmer asked, “What ya gonna do with him?” Doyle said, “I'm going to raffle him off.” The farmer said “You can't raffle off a dead donkey!” Doyle said, “Sure I can, watch me. I just won't tell anybody he's dead.” A month later, the farmer met up with Doyle and asked, “What happened with the dead donkey?” Doyle said, “I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898.00.” The farmer said, “Didn't anyone complain?” Doyle said, “Just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back.”

That Doyle guy !! As my grandpappy would say, “Doyle’s squattin’ in tall cotton”.


******************************************************************
Help Wanted – Lion Tamer

A circus owner runs an ad for “Lion Tamer Wanted” and two people showed up.

One is a retired fisherman in his late-sixties and the other is a drop-dead, gorgeous brunette with a killer body in her mid-twenties.

The circus owner tells them, "I'm not going to sugar coat it. This is one ferocious lion. He ate my last tamer so you two had better be good or you're history. Here's your equipment - a chair, a whip and a gun. Who wants to try out first?" The gorgeous brunette says, "I'll go first.”

She walks past the chair, the whip and the gun and steps right into the cage. The lion starts to snarl and pant and begins to charge her. As he gets close, the gorgeous brunette throws open her coat revealing her beautiful, perfect naked body. The lion stops dead in his tracks, sheepishly crawls up to her and starts licking her feet and ankles. He continues to lick and kiss every inch of her body for several minutes, then lays down and rests his head at her feet.

The circus owner's jaw is on the floor! He says, "That's amazing! I've never seen anything like that in my life!"

He then turns to the retired fisherman and asks, "Can you top that?”
The old fisherman replies, "Possibly ... but you've got to get that lion out of there first."