Triac Failure

Don't know what it is, but according to the manual "Triac failure is minimized with toroidal devices." Good, always hate it when my triac fails. D, of course, does not read the manual and somehow gets the dimmers and controls working, but even he will tell you he doesn't know exactly what he did. The second dimmer pack had three blown fuses, easy enough. While he replaces those (hard to get to) I reread a section on Activating Chase Effects but it doesn't seem germane. Computer works great with a two pound block of ice behind the rear. After lunch we are finally told that we've been given an 'as new' baby grand piano, everyone else has known about this for months; it'll have to live in the back hall and be moved about for various events, which means we need a piano dolly, more specifically called an Adjustable Grand Piano Mobileer (with locking wheels) and a bomb proof cover. Big rain last night and I was able to replenish my water supply but the driveway was a slippery mess this morning, a barely under control free-fall, and more trash on Mackletree. I need a bath but just go out on the deck and pour a gallon of water over my head, towel off, call it good enough, eat a can of tuna and some cheese, a hunk of bread, call it good enough, get a drink and settle at the keyboard. The Impossibly Cute Park Ranger showed up at the museum just before closing, a function on the Esplanade, 50 Zebco rods and reels for kids, a fishing adventure on the old Ohio; she brushes against me and I ask her over for dinner. If I understand this correctly, we have a date. D was standing there, he says that is the case. A perfect chance to cook a slab of ribs for pregnant Zoe and not eat dinner alone, this is good, but everyone is related, cousins and nieces, and I don't want a family, I think, but maybe I need a family, maybe we all do. That's not quite right, I already have a family here, the extended clan, and I wonder if that relationship would be endangered by a more intimate connection. I think about this shit, you know? When I first met Jenny, the very first time, ten years ago, she was skipping down the path, from Brian and Dawn's, down to Ronnie's house, and she looked back over her shoulder, I was filled with lust, that dancer's body, the grace, come on, what male wouldn't? Filed it as fantasy. Now I might be alone with her. I wonder what I'll say. Probably something inappropriate. I have a history. Three crows, never mind.