Today I saw two men setting up a tent at Sweet Corn Charley in Sprawlmart. Between Sprawl One and Sprawl Two, I think. Could have been more than two men; the permanent building blocked a lot of the view.
Hmmm . . . I came by there again on the way home, and didn't notice it. But I was tired, and busy dealing with traffic on a downhill. And on the other side of the road.
I got off to a very late start, so I had supper in Oswego. And another supper when I got home. My notes say that I spent forty-six minutes at the mini-mart where I bought my roast-beef-and-swiss sandwich and a bottle of tea.
That was my third tea; I brought a bottle of tea from home, and I had a very large glass, which the waitress refilled, at the Barbee Hotel. Good pizza — thin, cracker-like crust, so an eight-inch pizza wasn't too much to eat all in one sitting. But I rode easy for a while.
Dave has installed a solar light on his flagpole; I think that the bluish light makes the flag look funny; Dave doesn't.
Dave bought a bucket at Ace today — and when I was putting my bike away, I found the bucket that I'd put potatoes in last fall, forgotten under the pile of benches that I use for a bike rack.
I put the new bucket in the laundry room, and put the grubbier laundry bucket in the garage. We had intended for the new bucket to replace both laundry buckets. Just as well; I think I'll go out and put my sweaty bra in the other bucket. I put my white do-rag in the new bucket.
I soaked a red bra and the do-rag in the same bucket once, and had a pink do-rag for a while. The dye appears to have washed out. It was fairly subtle to begin with.
When I got up to give Al his nine o'clock treat, there was a Piper Cub floating near our beach. Dave says that they took him for a ride.
Dave pressure-washed most of the patio today. You can really tell where he left off. He's ordered some sealer, and we're puzzling over how to get the remaining paint off.
We went to the Olive Barn for supper tonight, but didn't feel like staying for the First Friday festivities — partly because the band thought its audience was in Pierceton. I ate all of my dinner, and really, really shouldn't have. Dave brought nearly half of his home.
I was aghast when I heard that Mt. Hood was to be moved, but the story went on to say that the foundations were rotting because the basement couldn't be kept dry, so it's move it or lose it, and then I noticed that the new location is an easy walk from the museum in the Westminster Hotel, where the tours start.
The story didn't say what they'd do about the bungalow being built into the side of a hill; you can't move a basement! But if the new basement is above ground level on all sides, instead of just in front, that would *really* take care of the drainage problem.
I wonder whether removing and re-using the turn-of-the-twentieth-century concrete blocks facing the front of the basement would be cheaper or more expensive than having reproduction blocks made.
Odds are that the walk-out basement will simply be discarded, as was done when "preserving" the houses moved to the Village At Winona; tourists have never been allowed to go into the basement anyway.
Discovered, while reading up on the Sunday Home, that The Railroad Power Station on the Gatke property is a "still standing" historical building. It was out of place on a list that otherwise consisted of buildings that are in use, such as the Beyer Home and the Winona Hotel, not to mention that all the other buildings on the list are in Winona Lake.
To say that the power plant is "still standing" is to use the phrase *very* inclusively. It isn't *all* fallen down, but the landmark part was the smokestack. It isn't safe to get close enough to see how much is left.
Dave can remember when the power plant was still in operation; their five-o'clock whistle was his signal to go home.
⁂
One-lane bridge on SR 15 for the entire summer! My initial "Oh, arrrgh!" was a general, socially-responsible distress; I devoutly avoid SR 15, so there should be nothing personal in it except increased traffic on alternate routes — besides which, the Tippy is north of Walmart Plaza.
Then I realized that I have been known to use SR 15 to get from Sheldon Street to Clearwater Drive, and the article specifically states that there will be no access to Clearwater from SR 15.
On the other hand, construction blocking access to Clearwater implies that the road widening will go all the way to Clearwater.
Checking the map: I may want to avoid 300 N between SR 15 and CR 150 W this whole summer.
This morning Dave programmed the new key fob he bought on line. Programming one fob disables all the others unless you re-program them in the same session — which may come in handy if a fob is lost or stolen — and the resulting fussing with our keychains led Dave to purge his keytags, which caused me to get around to throwing out my Marsh keytag.
A story in the paper about expanding a "TIF" said that there had been no nibbles on the empty store yet, so Marsh had been excluded from the TIF.
We buried two more fish. One had been picked over pretty well. I said that they smelled like anchovies, which (as Victoria is said to have said) did not amuse Dave.
Hey, I looked it up: as the smell suggests, they really do "ripen" the fish before canning them.
⁂
Two more huge fish have washed up on the beach. What's going on in the lake?
The sealer is here, and Dave has begun to strip the patches of paint. Paint stripper is thirteen dollars a can, and it's going to take several cans.
I'm glad he's the one stuck with this icky job.
The asparagus got ahead of me. I picked the short spears, and decided to let the other plants grow.
Alas, the bindweed has also gotten ahead of me; I'm peeling out vines when I pull it.
I hilled up the potatoes a little. A clump of volunteer multipliers got in my way, and I reflected that harvesting green onions was on today's to-do list, and went to the shed for the spading fork.
A spading fork is overkill for harvesting multipliers, but the ground is very hard and the stems looked weak.
I learned something new while looking up something else: the sign at the trailhead of the Heritage Trail is a "kiosk"; any sign with a roof on it is a "kiosk" even if the "roof" is a narrow ornament merely symbolizing shingles. You *can* get most of you under the roof while reading the trailhead sign, and it does keep sunlight from glaring off the glass.
The electric sign at the entrance to Winona Lake is also a "kiosk" even though it isn't intended to be approached on foot. I have the impression that the roof is intended to keep rain from testing the waterproofing of the electric parts.
I wonder whether the horizontal sign at Krebs Trailhead Park is a "kiosk"; it has no roof, but it does have the compartment in which you can post the latest news. (I wonder whether the sun-bleached map has been changed out yet? Probably should be done every May.)
The sealer has arrived, but it is going to be weeks before it can be applied: what little is left of the paint on the patio is stuck on really, really well. Dave just switched to buying paint remover by the gallon.
Good news: when set on point blast, the power washer will remove softened paint. The bad news: it takes about a minute per square centimeter.
I went for a long ride yesterday, with lots of stops, there was also a long stretch of gravel, and, after I turned south, there was a long stretch into the teeth of a stiff wind. So I was surprised that I not only didn't eat supper on the road, I got home with fifteen minutes to cook.
There was a chunk of corned beef in the fridge, so I sliced some into a skillet before I unpacked my groceries — everything perishable was on ice, so there was no hurry. We each fetched a Sandwich Skinny from the freezer, I set out various things found in the fridge — including the last of the potato salad I'd bought on a previous trip to Aldi — and it turned out to be an excellent meal.
Among the things I set out was guacamole that had gotten brown on the top. I was rather pleased, at Aldi, to buy a box of six two-ounce cups of guacamole — we can eat two ounces before it gets ugly.
Today was Pastor Paul's last sermon. We had a farewell party after church. Pastor Rick is leaving too. Pastor Doug is going to have to hit the ground running. He won't be unpacked before the Day of Helping hits him.
It's a boring day — all I've done is to rip out stitches in a jersey that I'm revising — so let's talk politics.
When I first became aware of Donald Trump in the eighties, I judged him to be shallow and immature, and haven't seen anything since to change my mind. When the torches and pitchforks came out in January (or was it November?), I said "Well, it *has* been thirty years or so since I said he was immature", but I can't be bothered to look into it.
Today, while reading a column by one of the torch-and-pitchfork brigade, on the theme that all Trump supporters are insane, I came across two sentences at the tail of a paragraph. The first states that "starry-eyed minions" believe that Trump has accomplished a lot. The second is "Exactly no major legislation has been passed by Congress since Trump took office."
My stars, woman, can't you see what a major, major accomplishment keeping Congress out of mischief is?
Tomorrow will be one second shorter than today. It must be the summer solstice — yesterday's prediction was that today would be one second longer.
At first I thought that reconstructing the bridge carrying SR 15 over the Tippy wouldn't affect me, then I remembered that I've been wanting to ride from Nappanee to Bremen — and it isn't at all convenient to get to Nappanee without using 15; I've gone by way of 19 and didn't like it.
Yesterday I realized that I'd be just as happy riding from Bremen to Nappanee. Alas, Google Maps fails to show a good place to leave the car in Bremen. There's a supermarket in Bremen, but not the sort where nobody would notice that a car has been in the lot for several hours. Then I thought that I'd want to start the tour at Rentown Country Store anyway, in case I bought a bunch of stuff that I'd want to pack into a cooler in the car.
I remembered from my previous trip that it's impossible to load my bike into the Versa by myself. I couldn't believe that — there is plenty of room in the trunk after you put the seats down, and it's a four-door so there is easy access to the front of the space — so I went out to the garage to practice. About halfway through stripping stuff off the bike, I realized that one day is not long enough to work myself up to both riding and driving, but went ahead with the practice.
Turns out that the reason I can't put the bike into the car is that the backs of the seats are ten inches higher than the floor of the trunk. I can't lift the bike that high at the ends of my arms, and if I go around to pull it in from the other side, the bike catches on the ledge of the trunk. If I had someone to guide the bike while I pulled, it would be easy.
But in addition to there not being one other person in the entire universe who wants to ride from Nappanee to Bremen, there isn't enough room in the trunk for two bikes.
So it will be the truck again, and another thing that I can't do by myself is to put the bed liner in. And it can't be done ahead of time — if the truck gets rained on while the bed liner is in, the water trapped under the liner will rust the bed.
Speaking of water in the bed of the truck, not too many weeks ago, Dave was parking the truck on ramps so water wouldn't accumulate in the bed when one of the ramps said "I've been out in the ultraviolet for fifteen years now, and that's quite enough." The sudden shift in weight broke the other ramp too, and suddenly he was parked level. Scared him out of a year's growth, but no harm done.
His first impulse was to buy steel ramps to replace them, but then he thought about the way steel breaks and the way plastic breaks, and bought plastic.
I think we should mark "replace ramps" on our calendar for ten years from now.
I can't *believe* that I spent sixty-four dollars and nineteen cents on a pair of cheap sandals, but I can't remember the previous time I saw a pair of shoes my size.
I found them in Sprawlmart, at Shoe Sensation.
Today is predicted to be the only clear day all week, but I didn't feel like any of the long rides I have mapped out, so I went to Martin's to look at the roundabout. I'd hoped that the approaches would be designed to hook up to a road designed to carry as much traffic as Husky Trail gets, but the new road isn't one inch wider. And it has curbs to make it unsafe to ride near the edge. Ah, well, 175 E works fine.
I noticed that the barricades blocking people from taking a short cut through the housing development had been backed up with concrete portable barriers, and thought what a shame it was that jerks wouldn't let the construction crew leave the road open for the people who lived on it — though one could park on the blocked-off road as close to Martin's as some of the spaces in the parking lot.
Then I noticed that one of the concrete barriers was on an embankment that was about as steep as would stay put without a retaining wall — so steep that the barrier had to be put on it longways instead of crossways — and tire tracks proved that they *needed* that barricade.
I walked around the barricades, wondering whether I was being as "entitled" and "special" as the jerks, and wandered through the housing to its outlet on the "no through traffic" portion of Husky Trail.
I was much puzzled that there was no break in the curb to let customers into North Point Cinemas, but when I got home I looked them up on Google Satellite, and learned that the entrance has always been on Mariner's Drive.
When I got to the end of the construction, there was a continuous stream of traffic coming out of the detour, so I turned into Harrison School. I took a lap around their fitness trail, noting with approval that there were picnic tables in a grove of trees east of the trail.
I went out Harrison's back door directly into the housing development, which would be very convenient for any young children living there. Pity there's no way to get there from Canterbury House Apartments without using Husky Trail. A walkway could be put in, but no matter how you slice it, they have to *cross* Husky Trail, and full-grown adults have died doing that.
After eating onion rings in an incredibly-crowded Culvers, I took Patterson Road to Sprawlmart; along the way I learned that Wednesday is lemon-custard day at Ritters and had another small snack.
I saw a cute ad in Big R. Above a display of chicken feed there was a portrait of a laying hen with the caption "You are what she eats".
Stopped writing to answer the door — the Warsaw Flying Club sent an emissary to give Dave a club T-shirt. It's Cub yellow, and looks good on him.
⁂
In reading the Ink-Free News just before bedtime, I learned that Winona Lake's Fourth of July celebration will be on July 1.
When mushrooms came up on the site early in the spring, I thought the roots of the sycamore Beaver Dam felled and stump-ground many years ago had finally given up, but today the sprouts are shin high despite having been mowed as often as the grass.
The people who thought that they needed to plant young trees between the sycamores of Deer Creek to take over when the old ones get blown down didn't know much about sycamores. They should have spent the money on a picnic table.
⁂
My camera is about to roll over. I took five pictures this morning, and while moving them into the computer, I noticed that the last one I took is DISC0999.JPG.
I'll probably delete some after viewing them on the big screen. I need at most three pictures of weed blossoms.
The pictures are for http://wlweather.net/LETTERS/2017BANN/WEED.HTM
⁂
I deleted all but one — they were out of focus. And the sharp one is a picture of an un-opened bud, so I'm going to have to shoot the two open blooms again.
Except for a sheet and two pillowcases, the first load of wash is on a rack in the garage. It isn't just that if I'm not quick to bring it in when it's dry, the sheet will whip to pieces — the *line* was whipping so bad that I couldn't hit it with a clothespin, even when I hung onto it with my other hand. When I came back after hanging the sheet and one pillow case, I just walked under the sheet. It did tap my hat just as I passed its last inch.
After putting the rack into the garage, I happened to set a timer for five minutes before going out to hang up the second pillow case, and it went off just as I started back to the house.
I couldn't believe it when I read "8 mph" on Dave's weather display. I must have been out during the "peak gust", which was 13 mph. When I last read it, it said 6 mph and 14 mph.
When I went into church yesterday, Mrs. Gensch handed me a very nice thank-you card. I must remember to show it to Denise.
We had a lovely time Saturday even though we had only two customers, and they showed up so late that we were just getting warmed up when it was time to shove their stuff into sandwich bags and give them back to their mother. An adult or two said "I'd forgotten how much fun embroidery is. I must take it up again."
Gone be a busy week. I have to go to Aldi for chips and Owen's for seltzer and yogurt. One place or the other I need potatoes and lemons. And I have to look up how to make lemonade. Oh, arg, if I want to ride tomorrow, I have to take my bike to the Trailhouse today. I got a flat Friday, and haven't taken care of it yet.
I got the flat fixed Tuesday morning — the culprit was a wee teeny piece of wire, perhaps a piece broken off a very fine staple. While he was working on the wheel, the mechanic noticed that my back brakes were in a perilous condition and replaced my brake pads. It stops *much* better now.
Then I drove to Owen's and bought seltzer, frozen food, five huge potatoes, and everything on my list but tonic and ginger beer. A lot of people must know that Kroger ginger beer is *much* better than anybody's ginger ale; the spot was there, but it was empty. And ditto for the six-packs of tonic. I bought a one-liter bottle, since we were entirely out of tonic.
On Wednesday I went for a lap around Pike Lake for exercise, and stopped at Aldi on the way back to buy onions and lemons, and a pork loin to bake today. Also bought a tomato at Sweet Corn Charley's but there *still* isn't any corn. And the tomatoes looked a bit picked over. I had to choose from the seconds pile to get one that was both red and fully ripe. (I do like yellow tomatoes, but not when I'm buying only one.)
Also bought peanuts in the shell and two cans of cat food at Tractor Supply. I think that crossing 30 on 325 E is actually shorter than crossing it on 250 E, and it's a quarter mile less of Old 30 — and Old 30 is less objectionable farther from Warsaw.
Schedule for today is to help Dave pick up the lawn mower, which will empty the storage locker, then drive to Aldi for chips and more seltzer. Since I rarely go to Aldi by car, I'm stocking up; I noted a vacant place in the garage, under a shelf and behind some cardboard that came out of the storage locker, where I can stash several twelve-packs. I drink a can of seltzer nearly every night, and Dave usually has one while watching television, so it won't get *too* dusty.
A lot of the stuff we got out of the locker is stuff we don't want any more; if you come to the fireworks, it might pay to ask for a tour of the garage. We *think* the walk-behind lawn mower still works. It's quite useless now that Dave has a zero turn lawn mower.
In particular, I don't want my canning equipment any longer. I noticed a twelve-quart aluminum kettle in the pile of assorted stuff. A six-quart kettle is plenty big enough these days.
⁂
I put the peppered pork loin into a small skillet, which it just spanned, put frozen vegetables into the gaps, covered the vegetables with two of the "petite yellow" potatoes I bought today (zapped and cut in half), and baked an hour at 350°F. It was delicious!
I've got to bake meat more often.
It's lucky that I splurged on sandals. Yesterday I noticed that my pedals are cutting through the sandals that the new sandals are intended to replace. Probably won't last the whole summer.
The five potatoes I bought on Tuesday weigh a pound each -- some of them a bit more. I may chicken out of putting the last one into the salad. (I'm planning to zap them one at a time, and bake each one in the toaster oven until the next one comes out before cutting it up.
⁂
After I put the fifth potato in, I noted the level in the bowl and realized that this is not the first time I've made five pounds of potatoes into salad.
⁂
I just put half a stick of butter, a coffee measure of red-wheat flour, and a quarter teaspoon of salt into my little cast-iron saucepan and put it into the fridge so I'll be ready to make cheese dip tomorrow night. An eight-ounce package of Essential Everyday Extra-Sharp Cheddar is standing by.
The soda is in the garage fridge, there's ice in the freezer, and the yogurt dip is made. Since I broke my potato-salad dish, I put the yogurt-dip dish into the freezer to be filled with potato salad Sunday morning before the church picnic. So I made the yogurt dip in a "Little Salad Bar" potato-salad container; two more are in the freezer so that I can put the dip on ice before serving. I'll have to wait a bit before I can pull the inner dish out and set the dip dish directly on the ice.
I've also made simple syrup for the lemonade. I was surprised that neither the Betty Crocker Cookbook nor the Joy of Cooking had a recipe for simple syrup. I averaged the lemonade recipes and decided that I need a cup of sugar for half a gallon of lemonade, so I boiled a cup of fructose (we still have a surplus of fructose) in a pint of water.
I *still* can't find the glass citrus juicer. Did we lose it when we moved? Is it in the attic in a box marked "books"?