it's alive again!!

after replacing a couple burnt relays.. I burned the Tucker in on DC for a couple hours. It had not been turned on in months, wanted to dry the damp out of the resistors and iron, or something, or wanted to un-curdle the mercury in the rectifiers, or just wanted to fiddle with it I guess. The unwritten meter in the middle on the lower set is the modulator HV. I need to libel it and fix the text on the upper one to indicate Final HV since the supplies are completely separated with the new relays installed. It was very cheerfully lit and after a while, it got warmer than 34 degrees in the shack. I know I could have plugged the 1500W oil heater in, but this was more better.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the shack
Not a creature’d exploded, not even a rat;
The chimneys were slung ‘round the bottles with care,
In hopes that the blowers’d make plenty of air;
The fuses were nestled all snug in their clips,
While the glow of old radium danced on the switch tips;
Kitty was on her pillow, and I in my watch cap,
as I reached for the filament switch and gave it a snap,
When from the steel bowels there arose such a wind,
I knew the blower interlock best soon well kick in.
To the PA fiament variac my hand flew like a flash,
Set 7 point 5 Volts, my teeth they did gnash.
The breasts on the back-wall pin-up caught my eyes all a-glow,
But my mind quickly returned to the control panel below,
When, what to my wandering eyes should disappear,
But the glow from the blower lamp, ‘t had shone forth from the rear,
A little more waiting now, not so lively or quick,
For I’d diodes of mercury, niether Xenon nor stick…
Now more rapid than curses the switches ON became,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Mod Bias! now, PA Bias! now, Screen Standby I’m fixin’!
On, Plate 1! on, Plate 2! and, Strappin’ and Spitzen!
To the top of the variacs! Crank them up tall!
Now 2KV! 3KV! 4KV all!"
As dry heaves that after the wild party do fly,
Tamed lightning flew through vacuum before my wild eyes;
So up to the rack-top the hot air it flew,
With the force of the blowers, like a gale did they blew.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
A screech and a bang and a snap of a tooth.
As I drew back my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney a flew a squirrel with a bound.
He was still covered in fur, from his head to his foot,
But around a great hole, it was tarnished with soot;
A bundle of nuts he had clasped in his claws,
And he looked like a crackhead who’d just had his crack.
His eyes -- how they darted! his fangs how they flashed!
His cheeks stuffed with acorns, his nose a bit ashed!
His droll little mouth was open wide like a maw
And the fur of his chin was burnt off white as the snow;
The stump of a balun he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a nose with a bevel,
That shook when he snarled, like a man with a devil.
He was big as a stump, a right wicked old beast,
And I laughed when I saw him, though ‘twas not so wise;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had much to dread;
He spoke not a word, but leapt straight for my head,
and shit in my hair; (I'd preferred Vitalis instead).
Then shot he the finger right at old Kitty’s nose,
he ‘d no fear of grimalkins is what I s’ppose;
She sprang to my side, clawed ‘er way up me arm,
And laid claws on that tree-rat and did ‘im much harm!,
I heard him exclaim but once, ‘ere he was dragged out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, I’m cat food tonight."