A predator got one of our squirrels.
I happened to mention javelle water this morning, and, curious, opened Wikipedia. Since the phrase went obsolete in the nineteenth century, I figured it wouldn't be there, but there *was* a link!
Which redirected to "sodium hypochlorite" without a word or hint of explanation. Wikipedia does that a *lot*; if I hadn't already known, I would never have guessed that "Javelle water" used to be the common name of dilute sodium hypochlorite, later known as "bleach" and now known as "chlorine bleach".
Besides, just as "muriatic acid" isn't quite the same thing as hydrochloric acid, I rather suspect that javelle water isn't quite the same thing as sodium hypochlorite.
DuckDuckGo confirmed my guess: the first javelle water (made in Javelle, France) was potassium hypochlorite.
The DuckDuck hits that I noticed consisted entirely of dictionary-type definitions.
The article on sodium hypochlorite said that a 0.005% solution of bleach is used to treat eczema, radiation dermatitis, and other skin conditions, and that elderly mice bathed in bleach got younger-looking skin.
Mom prescribed a soak in diluted bleach for every injury, and it's panned out in my own experience — bleach draws splinters out enough that one can get tweezers on them, and once when I got a lot of small scratches from my elbow down, all the wounds above the dishwater line got infected, all of those below healed quick and clean.
I was in the habit of putting bleach in the dishwater then. When Bill is in charge of the dishwashing at the church, we put bleach in the second rinse.
We didn't at the halloween party because someone had made off with the bleach again, but there were very few dishes and most of them were pans that will be heated above boiling the next time they are used. (We warmed the hot dogs in the ovens, which was, to my mind, quite as good as grilling them.)
Al is not taking at all well to the semi-annual flip-flop in time zones.
He takes the spring change better, but seems to think he should get a second treat when it's *really* nine o'clock.
I figured I'd start waking at eight instead of nine, but I've been waking at seven. Rarely make it out of bed before half past, though.
Got a little sewing done, but felt too stupid after dark to set up hand-basting to do in the waiting room tomorrow. I'm taking a couple of books instead; books are easier to put down when you are called anyway.
Radio Boys is a good book for this because it's only a series of unrelated incidents, no over-all plot. Something like reading the Beeson Banner!
I've no idea what's involved in a bone-density test. All the clerk told me was to show up at ten tomorrow, and stop taking calcium today. I speculate that a blood test is part of it and they don't want dietary calcium confusing things.
Which reminds me that I'm supposed to show up at Dr. Darr's unfed Real Soon Now to get a fasting blood sample taken. And I need to go to the pharmacy for shingles vaccine. I should make a list of these non-calendar appointments.
Just before lunch, I took a lap around the block on my flatfoot. I heard sawing as I passed the boardwalk construction, but couldn't see what they were doing. They appear to plan to put up the hand rails before laying the floor.
I wish I thought they'd have enough sense to leave gaps between the boards. The Beyer Farm trail is downright hazardous at this time of year because the leaves that fall on it can't dry out, and get slick and slimy on the bottom.
I didn't feel like coming straight back and I've been a little low on cash, so I got a "fast fifty" at the teller machine and followed the Heritage Trail home.
Guy Fawkes Day, and tomorrow will be two minutes and nineteen seconds shorter.
Got my hips and spine scanned this morning. I was surprised that it was done in Women's Imaging — You don't need to undress, so you don't go into the changing room, but I'd think guys would be uncomfortable. Never did ask what was wrong with taking calcium.
All I did was drive two or three miles, lie on a table for five minutes, and drive home again, but when I stopped for a shingles shot on the way home, I couldn't work up enough mental energy to go into the pharmacy, so I came home without it.
By way of Market Street, which is temporarily functional at this end. Doesn't appear to be a whole bunch of work left to do on the section I used.
They made an exception to the current fashion for narrowing streets at intersections: there's a right-turn lane at the intersection with Argonne.
⁂
Michelle from Darr's office called: I've got osteopenia: continue to exercise and take calcium, check again in five years.
So I'm taking three calciums instead of two per day until those I skipped are gone. I'd intended to do that anyway, which is why I set them aside instead of not taking them out of the bottle.
The freezer has been awkward ever since my trip to Bonneyville Mill. Today I made four bags of bread mix, then emptied the rest of the old bag of hard white wheat into a one-gallon plastic bag, which helped, but we still can't slide the baskets. I think that putting the two bags into two bins, instead of on top of one another in one bin, will restore order: there is a lot of wasted space in that one bin; if I had each bag in its own bin, smaller packages could slip down beside them.
I finished _The Radio Boys and the Flood Fighters_ in the waiting room. Neither radio nor floods figured in the plot until the last few pages, and both were perfunctory — the boys worked hard and heroically until totally spent, and were cheered by all on the last page, but there were no telling details, let alone evidence that the writer had a passing acquaintance with radios or floods.
For boys who were purportedly crazy about radio, they spent remarkably little time playing with the transmitter that was so conveniently available for them to heroically install in the flooded power plant. As in this was the first clue that they *had* a transmitter, rather than only broadcast receivers. I don't think the author knew that there was a difference. But he was well ahead of his time, as the "set" appears to be a transceiver.
Tomorrow will be two minutes and eighteen seconds shorter. Decreasing day length no longer matters; the sun sets about the time we sit down to supper, so there is no evening to get shorter.
I intended to write a sour-castic letter to the editor about how the evenings were getting unbearably short, it must be time to start sleeping an hour later, but never got around to it.
I ripped out two hems and pinned them back shorter. I remembered after ripping out the hem of my wizard suit that I'd intended to shorten it by putting elastic in the stretched-out neck band, but I'm sure Dr. Darr would approve of shortening it twice.
Did I mention that I discovered that I can pin the sleeves up for working in the kitchen by reaching into that wide, wide neckline and pinning a pleat in from underneath? It makes a lovely draped effect on the shoulders.
I should have Dave photograph me with and without pins and post it on the garment-design forum.
Tour d'Warsaw today. The bridge and the realization that I've never seen a junk yard were enough to get me dressed — but not reasonably early.
Yay! Market Street looked finished when I crossed it. But I was busy crossing a street and didn't examine it carefully.
I remembered the shingles shot as I was passing Owen's, and went in and got it. I had to take my long-sleeved undershirt off, and as I was putting my jersey back on after putting the undershirt back on, my phone fell out of my pocket and separated into three pieces when it hit the tile floor: a door, a thing that looked like important circuitry, but which Dave tells me is the battery, and the rest of it. I fitted the pieces back together and so far it doesn't appear to be any the worse for the experience.
Thence to the emergency room to drop off magazines, and across the boardwalk to Chinatown Express for lunch.
When I was on my way to West Street by way of Fort Wayne Street, I saw a sign saying "Craft Show Today" and stopped at Center Lake Park's pavilion for a while. When I came out, I tried to follow Canal Street, ended up in somebody's back yard, and came out of their driveway close to Pike Street, which I followed to West Street. No changes at the place where Avila used to be. There's a sign up for Everything Outdoors, but it's still blank. Open Air Nursery looked open, but the gate was closed.
Through the roundabout to Hepler by way of Leiter, out Zimmer's back door to Zimmer Road, Lewis Salvage was right there but it closed when I'd only started to look around, so I went more-or-less straight home, with a side trip to the bridge over Eagle Creek on Country Club Road.
It seemed farther to the bridge than last time, and there was more traffic on the road. It's completely done, except that the grass hasn't grown back yet. In retrospect, there hasn't been enough rain to bring up the seeds under the straw. And won't be for a while. Might be a sprinkle between Monday sunset and Tuesday morning, half a chance between Wednesday and Thursday, and as high as eight percent chance on Veteran's day.
Tomorrow will be two minutes and sixteen seconds shorter.
I stopped in the playground behind Marsh and finally persuaded my fender stay to stop rubbing on my front tire. Mem: add "8 mm combination wrench" to my shopping list. But first I must take *everything* out of the bag to make sure I haven't already got one. (I can't imagine buying a 10 mm wrench without also buying an 8 mm wrench.) How I miss the lovely roll kit that I lost: it showed exactly what was in it to a casual glance.
I bought everything on my grocery list at Marsh, but I'd forgotten to put "mini sweet peppers" on it.
Google Maps says the tour was in the general neighborhood of 11.2 miles. (I wasn't too fussy about what I punched in.) [And, I later realized, I forgot to tell it about the side trip to the bridge.]
Not much weight-bearing exercise today, but I'll walk a mile tomorrow. The weather continues clear and warm; I seriously considered *not* putting my long-sleeved shirt back on.
And in church, someone who had seen me yesterday expressed surprise that I'd ride when it was so cold.
Walked a mile, but I forgot to go up and down the stairs a few times.
I decided to give up all hope of voting at the Chili cook-off, and just have a buffet meal. Of the three or four chilis I sampled, I liked Pastor Bonnie's the best.
False alarm in the basement: When I realized that I'd forgotten that the chili cook-off was today, I tried to call Dave to tell him I'd be late. "Call failed". So I called his cell phone. "Call failed". So I walked to the ramp room, which has large windows. "Call failed". Aughh! Something broke when I dropped it!
After the service, I thought I'd check whether texting still worked, but first I sat down in a recently-vacated pew and tried calling again. Call went right through! But we didn't have much of a conversation, because the sanctuary was still full of chattering people. He said later that he heard me just fine, despite not having his aids in, but I could barely hear him despite setting the phone on "speaker" and continuing to hold it to my ear.
I'm glad I don't have to go shopping for a phone. I never did find one the last time.
Mysteriously, Owen's has e-mailed me that my prescription is ready. Doesn't have the same number as any of the three I got last time; Dr. Darr must have phoned something in — but he said my medications were all right!
I plan to sort the wash in the morning, pause the washer, and ride to Owen's to ask what's going on. I ought to skip breakfast and get some blood drawn, but I think I'd rather do that Tuesday. I don't *think* there is any rush.
⁂
Duh! I finally thought to see whether the receipt for the shingles shot had a prescription number on it: it did, and it was the number on the pick-up notice.
Dave got a "your prescription is ready" robocall while I was getting the shot, and we figured that it was an automatic thing inadvertently triggered — until I got the e-mail. Now I see that we were right the first time; e-mails are also automatic.
Still need to go to Darr's office Tuesday to have some blood drawn. I could stop at the KCH cafeteria for breakfast on the way back: I've heard really-nice things about their biscuits and gravy.
Just discovered a sore spot where the shot went in. I guess I don't rub my upper arm very often.
Grumble, gripe, snarl, snap. I took a picture this morning, uploaded it, turned on the other computer to look at it before I deleted the bad shot, found a notice that my virus blocker needed to be updated, clicked "do it", went to the kitchen to start my breakfast. Breakfast got to the point where it needed to steam a minute, so I came back to finish that little job — and found a "click here to give me permission to begin to start doing what you told me to" button.
The main body of the storm is going north of us, but I chickened out of hosing off the plastic we keep under the cat box, and just laid it to air indoors.
A perfunctory Web search turned up lots of pages showing Environment Canada radar maps, but none piecing them together with National Weather Service maps.
Tomorrow will be two minutes and three seconds shorter. I have to get home by five-thirty.
In lieu of the Tour d'Warsaw, I'm planning to drop an unwanted necklace at the Goodwill store, and look over the dresses.
⁂
And I found one that fits!
Spotted a charcoal-with-white-flecks sweater dress on the end of the rack, left it to see whether there was anything else I wanted to try on while I had my shirts off, another customer returned a dress just as I turned my back. Ah, says I, returning garments yourself is permitted, and it's on the end of the rack, no chance of putting it in the wrong place.
All I saw were party dresses, dresses that were obviously too small, and several black low-necked short-sleeved polyester dresses that might do over pants, but I've got a black low-necked short-sleeved polyester dress to wear over pants.
So I went back, grabbed the gray sweater dress on the end of the rack, and tried it on. I loved the patch pocket inside one of the patch pockets; everything else was wrong. The fabric looked cheap, the sleeves were much too long, it wrinkled under the arms, it was way loose here and sausage tight there, the neck was so low that I'd have to wear a shirt under it, and it was designed for an A cup.
But when I took it back, I realized that I'd taken the dress the other customer had returned. So I tried on the "black tweed", and it fits! The neck is too low for the kind of weather you'd wear a long-sleeved sweater knit in, but it does cover my underwear. It's too short to wear knee hose with, but when it's cold I won't mind wearing tights. All in all, very nice for a twelve-dollar dress.
When I hung it up at home, I discovered that it still has the original tag: $119.00.
Lunch at Panda Express, then to Aunt Millie's Bread Outlet and Aldi. The good news: Aldi's wonderful Deutsche Kueche Classic Crunchy Vital Cookies were in stock. The bad news: I didn't have enough sense to buy a few bags for the freezer. The one bag I bought was a quarter gone before I mounted up to go home. (Primarily because it was time for another meal by then.)
I don't think there were enough bags left to last until Monday, let alone until the next time I go to Aldi.
I stopped at Trailhouse to look at the room they've added on, and was told that they'll be closed all next week to varnish the floor in the old part of the building.
I'd been thinking that a week of rain would be a good time to have my bike overhauled. Need more time to write the to-do note anyway.
I noticed that they have replacement handlebar pads. Everybody's using grips instead, so I had thought that I'd have to improvise when my padding gives up — which will be Real Soon Now. I added "replace pads" to my instruction sheet.
I didn't look around long because I had two packages of frozen quiche in my pannier. It was cold enough that I wasn't worried about the lunch meat and cheese, but it wasn't *freezing* cold.
In fact, I took my gloves off at Goodwill, and threw my turtleneck and bra into the wash when I undressed.
I ate at a picnic table at Panda Express because I was dressed too warm to eat indoors. I had all the tables to myself.
This evening I downloaded mail for the first time in days. Thunderbird reacts exactly the same when it can't get the mail as it reacts when there isn't any mail to get, so it took me a while to notice that my password wasn't working.
Then it took a while to realize that Thunderbird was still using the old password, and I like to never figured out how to find and delete the non-functioning passwords. It involved resetting both Thunderbird and the computer. I'm not sure that resetting the computer was necessary, but by then I was tired of fooling around, so I took no chances.
I had just gotten one of the packages of quiche that I bought yesterday out of the freezer when Dave came home with a box containing wings, a tub of mild butter sauce, a tub of blue-cheese dressing, and two celery sticks. I shoved the quiche back into the freezer, hastily cut up some more celery, and we ate supper more than an hour early.
The inmost stalk of celery makes a good brush for applying butter to chicken wings — and instead of washing the brush, you can eat it.
Exciting day: I sewed in the morning and went to the grocery store in the afternoon. I took Evelyn's handkerchiefs with me, intending to stop by Dave and Jeanie on the way back, but rain made it unpleasant to navigate, so I went straight home.
Been a while since I drove the truck. I had to pull into a parking space and hunt around for the windshield-wiper control.
I now have everything I need to make potato salad for Sunday's carry-in dinner.
I think.
Woke up tired yesterday, took an early nap, woke up at the usual time despite having gone to bed an hour early. I suspect that it's a clue that it hurt to swallow.
Whatever it was, I'm over it, and getting some sewing done this morning.
I used up the last pre-cut strip of black-silk bias. I prefer to do delicate cutting under the bright sky, so I picked up the pre-marked silk, the rotary cutter, and my smaller cutting mat, and headed for the picnic table. I opened the patio door, felt the cool breeze off the lake, and decided that the light on the card table was good enough.
Somebody hit a pole at Lindberg and Jefferson last night. Lights came back on a little after eight this morning. When we were getting up, Dave remarked that the furnace had finished re-heating the house — so that was why I was feeling around for the extra blanket that was already over me.
A breaker tripped and won't untrip, but it affects only two rooms: the one with Dave's computer and the one with my computer. Took Dave a while to figure out why he couldn't turn the UPSs back on. (He was awake — or woke up — when the power went off, and turned off all the computers and UPSs.)
I'm writing this courtesy of an extension cord.
I'm planning to go to Lindberg and Jefferson, either on my pedestrian accelerator or on my bike, depending on how much trouble dressing I feel like. Bike, I think, because the stoplight is terrifying on a pedestrian accelerator.
I scrambled an egg into a dab of "potatoes O'Brien" to which I'd added half a slice of bacon, two tiny onions, and a pat of butter. It was good; I wish I'd used a bigger skillet and scrambled two eggs.
⁂
So I'm having the same again for lunch. More potatoes, three onions, and a bigger egg.
I didn't see a broken or new-looking pole at Lindberg and Jefferson, but I did see a pole surrounded by two NIPSCO trucks and a bunch of guys in reflective jackets. It had three things that I presume to be transformers on top.
And it's right beside Dalton Foundry, so we may read about this in tomorrow's paper even though nobody died.
Probably not, as there isn't a breath about it in the Ink-Free News. This means that nobody got a good picture.
While I was gone, Dave discovered that the problem isn't in the breaker. Now he's electrician hunting.
And I'm going back to bed.
⁂
Dave came home with an electrician just after I settled down for my nap. When I woke up, the lights were on. The trouble had been in an outside outlet! Dave asked him to change the other outside outlet too. The rectangular outlet covers blend with the siding better than the round ones did, and the color is close to a perfect match.
He inspected all the inside outlets before Dave remembered that we have outside outlets. I wonder whether he noticed that there are jacket parts in every room of the house except Dave's office? Probably not: the belt casing in the living room is inside the arm of the futon, and it's stretching a bit to say that the silk thread in the sewing machine in the bedroom is a "jacket part". (Not to mention that Dave closed the door to the bedroom.)
⁂
Today's paper says that tomorrow is the first Winter Market. Weather Underground says I'm not going. I no longer ride when there is snow on the streets, and it's a *first* snow, so going into the streets in *any* vehicle is contra-indicated.
Tomorrow will be one minute and forty-nine seconds shorter.
Sunset: our first snowfall of the winter is spectacular, and still coming down, but it's still melting when it hits the warm concrete under our eves, and Dave says the roads are clear.
I'd better wear boots to church tomorrow, and that means I have to carry shoes. Since I'm working in the kitchen, I plan to wear jeans, so the slippers that fit into my pocket won't do. But I have to carry a bag anyway, to carry the potato salad.
Black jeans with a fancy blouse look reasonable, and I imagine that everyone who's able-bodied will dress down a little because of the decorating party after church. I plan to skip that because it will be nap time. [The decorating was pretty much done by the time we finished washing dishes. Tree assembly had just begun, which caused me to remember the time I helped with that — and be glad that I wasn't doing it this year.]
I just DuckDucked "outdoor walker for ice and snow" and got a zillion ads for crampons. So I added "zimmer frame", and found that there is at least one outdoor walker out there, but didn't find anything for walking on ice.
So I added "skate" and found that one ice rink offers a penguin-shaped zimmer frame to toddlers. The Village at Winona ought to have an adult ice walker for rent. I suppose the ice isn't reliable enough to make it worth while to rent ice toys — some winters we get no skating at all.
Tomorrow will be one minute and forty-eight seconds shorter. Won't be long before the change goes to zero and starts back up.
I took sandals and socks, but put on my pocket slippers when I took my boots off. As for dressing down, I didn't even wear my best jeans — the second-best pair had all my stuff already in its pockets.
=================================================
I outdid myself on that potato salad, so I'd better record what was in it.
A few days ago I put a teaspoon of celery seed and some malt vinegar in a mustard jar in the refrigerator.
Yesterday I scrubbed as many Yukon Gold potatoes as I could fit into my larger Corningware casserole, pared off or cut out anything I didn't like the looks of, and zapped them on "four potato" twice, then after I'd cut up the smallest, zapped another minute and let them sit in the microwave for four or five minutes.
Meanwhile, I dumped the celery seed into my biggest mixing bowl, rinsed the jar with more malt vinegar, and dumped that in. Followed by a chopped onion, a big glob of Kroger Classic MAYO real Mayonnaise, a glop of olive oil, two boiled eggs, a tablespoon of salt, two stalks of celery, about half a carrot, and a handful of sweet mini peppers.
I grated the carrot; everything else was cut small with a knife. I think part of the quality was that the potatoes were of varying degrees of done-ness, and I cut some of them very small but wasn't as patient with others.
"Glop" and "Glob" are entirely different measurements, by the way.
=================================================
Gorgeous walk to church. Not as pretty coming back because I was facing the sun and had to turn around for the best view. The snow-coated trees were spectacular, particularly the sycamores.
And not bad footing, though I had to walk in the street a lot. There were a few places where I was glad I took my cane.
Started home without it, but luckily I chose to go by Ninth Street, and I remembered the cane as soon as I saw the steps. So after going back for the cane, I came home by Chestnut. The sun had been shining brilliantly all the while I was in church, so there were many places where the sidewalks would have been entirely clean if it hadn't been for snow falling off the utility lines. I think that less than half of it had fallen off, but tomorrow is predicted to be equally sunny and a tad warmer.
But six hours of above-freezing temperatures will probably take all the decorations off the trees.
Weather Underground says Tuesday will be a good day for a bike ride — if I can figure out how to get the bike out of the garage now that the car is in.
Tomorrow will be one minute and forty-four seconds shorter. It's about thirty days until the day stops shortening, so the decrease should decrease about three and 14/30 seconds per day, on average. Today's change was four seconds; that works out.
Lovely drying day, but I don't want to put my boots on, so I'm drying the wash on racks.
Lots of reds: I brought home three filthy red aprons.
Because, I presume, there is snow all over their bedroom on the fairgrounds, the geese are sleeping on our beach. I got up before they woke up yesterday, but I heard them honking a long time before I got up today.
I took an excessively-long nap yesterday, but I think today is a recovery day.
The potholders were mysteriously missing yesterday, and we had to make do with folded towels, but some of the vanished dishrags had come back. So I left my dishrags in my bag and cleaned the fridge handles with one of those that had returned. (Note: I left two comparatively-clean aprons on the hooks when I brought the three dirtiest home.)
We've solved the vanishing bleach problem: we store it in the boiler room instead of under the sinks.
That makes three secret stashes: bleach in the boiler room, good knives in the un-marked drawer, and permanent markers at the back of the pencil drawer, hidden behind the package of paper doilies. That last isn't a Fellowship conspiracy, but an adult conspiracy.
I doubt that anyone knows why we have a package of paper doilies.
Very interesting. The predicted-temperature line on today's weather chart goes down to freezing tonight, and then bounces there, as if it were a floor. And in the next nine days, I find four places where there is a short stretch of straight line at the freezing point. Three of them are associated with predictions of rain, which is sufficient explanation.
The geese were up and about the first time I looked out the window today. That was partly because I started breakfast before opening the curtains.
I've been wondering what to do with a jar of Alfredo sauce I bought at Aldi. So I cut up three spears of the asparagus I froze last spring, poured some Alfredo sauce over it, zapped it, added three chopped boiled eggs, and served it over canned biscuits.
It was good, but I think I'd have preferred my white-wheat white sauce with a subtle seasoning of cheddar. (A wee dab of sharp cheddar makes a sauce taste as though you'd put butter in it.)
Now what do I do with the rest of the jar? Serving it over pasta is contraindicated when feeding one diabetic and one fat blob.
Used most of it this morning having the same again, boiling only two eggs and adding half a tuna-can of ham. This also used up the canned biscuits. Very high cholesterol breakfast — and each of us added a dab of butter.
There's enough creamed eggs left to have for lunch on a slice of the bread I baked yesterday. Red wheat, not one of my bags of white-wheat bread mix. I had to open the new bag of red-wheat flour, but re-filling the canister didn't make much of a dent in it. I must make more bread as soon as we've eaten this loaf.
The geese are still here, grazing on the lawn now that much of the snow is gone.
I think I'll take my bike in for an overhaul — I don't like to ride in cold weather with a singing back wheel — whatever is wrong might suddenly get worse. But I don't think I can work it into the schedule today, and tomorrow they'll be closed. Not to mention that I'll be in Clinton County.
⁂
I did find time for an afternoon flatfoot ride. I discovered that walking hills on Wooster Road is an entirely different matter than walking up Chestnut Street! I forgot to put on my hat, and missed it — particularly on the way back, when I was going west and south.
I took a detour past the new boardwalk. It looks finished, but they have caution tape and a board blocking access. As I feared, the boards of the decking are jammed tightly together, to make sure that anything that falls onto the walkway stays on the walkway, and nothing dries out or melts. But killing the plants under the walkway doesn't matter as much here as it does in the swamp. In the swamp, sick plants cause erosion.
Horseradish eggs packed and ready to go. I hope that I don't forget to prune the rosemary just before leaving; I promised Don and Sara Lee a branch each.
Roomba ran last night and we woke up to a sparkling-clean living-room floor.
Then I pruned the rosemary in the hanging basket.
I learned two things this evening. First, when you try to plug a phone charger into the UPS by feeling around for the outlet, it's really, really easy to poke the invisible power button. (I knew there was a reason I always use the farthest outlet for the charger!)
When I told Dave, he harrumphed that it's *not* invisible, and he can see it just fine. I should have harrumphed that *he* always uses a flashlight. (It's a black button flush with a black surface.)
The second thing I learned is that when it's closed by a catastrophic crash, Pale Moon saves all its settings and comes back exactly the way I left it when I next turn it on. Dave said that the current version of Firefox will do that too.
Ha! For the first time a crash really was my fault, and for the first time Windows didn't whine at me to shut down properly next time. Neither of them; they just came back up when I turned them on.
Weather Underground says this will be an excellent week to have the bike unavailable. It also says that today will be a lousy day for walking to the Trailhouse to drop it off.
And tomorrow will be one minute and thirty-one seconds shorter.
⁂
Got a little sewing done. Never set foot outside except to burn some financial papers in the outdoor fireplace. Warmed up a frozen quiche for supper.
Dave didn't like the spinach quiche as much as he had liked the bacon quiche; pity there were two in the package. Perhaps I could sprinkle the other one with bacon bits and bake a quarter strip of bacon on it.
Yesterday I found a forgotten partly-eaten bag of in-the-shell peanuts in the cupboard, ate some, and dumped the rest onto the picnic table.
When I went into the living room this morning, blue jays were stealing the peanuts and Al was barking.
A squirrel got the last peanut.
Now Al is bored.
Washday. Only two loads. I hung the first load out, and dried the other on a rack.
The shop says my bike will be ready Wednesday or Thursday. Weather Underground says the weather will be lovely until Wednesday or Thursday.
The mirror that should allow me to wear my newer "helmet" should arrive Friday or Saturday.
I put quotes on "helmet" because you can't buy helmets, only helmet liners. At least the ad men have stopped referring to the paint on a helmet liner as a "microshell".
The new helmet poses more of a neck-twisting hazard than the old one, but it isn't as bad as most of the high-fashion "helmets", and it should provide a firmer support for my rear-view mirror.
Yesterday, I tried a pushup, and was able to get up on my hands and toes in the approved fashion. I have *never* done that before, not even when I was fifty pounds lighter. Couldn't do a pushup, but I could move up and down a little.
Just tried again, and I still can, even though I'm wearing shoes now. I wonder what's going on?
Perhaps I always before tried to push up into that position, instead of getting into it and trying to lower myself.
We had three or four cartons of eggs just before Thanksgiving. We ate the last two eggs for breakfast this morning, and I didn't get around to going to Owen's today. About time I cooked rolled oats for breakfast anyway — we've been having eggs nearly every morning for weeks.
I put a teaspoon of celery seed and some vinegar into a mustard jar today. There's another pitch-in on the thirteenth.