Cool! After posting the January issue of the Banner, I ran it through the W3C validator and it passed the first time!
On the trip to Aldi before last, I goofed while buying frozen fruit. After selecting a bag of Fiesta Mix, I noticed a small bag of mango chunks next to it and grabbed that too. When I got it home, I realized that it was USDA Organic. In addition to violating the separation of church and state and costing more than I should have paid, it tasted funny and had a mawkish texture, as if it had been picked green or something.
Today I discovered that off-flavored mango with a little Angostura Bitters sprinkled on it tastes pretty good.
Snitched from a signature:
--
So shepherd's pi is tethera point yan pethera yan
pimp covera tan sethera pimp tethera pimp hovera
covera methera covera tethera tan tethera hovera
pethera sethera tan sethera pethera tethera
tethera hovera tethera tan methera covera pimp and
so on? — Anon
If'n you don't get the joke, search for "yan tan tethera" or look it up in Wikipedia.
Yesterday was another clear-roads day and I went downtown to buy pins, quarter-inch elastic, and a 28" parka zipper.
I meant to have lunch at Subway, but after visiting the dollar store on Market Street, I thought that I ought to use Market Street now, since it's scheduled to be narrowed and lined with parked cars when construction season starts, and thereafter will be off limits to bicycles that can't keep up with motor traffic. I'd gone too far to turn back before I reflected that I must not go past Detroit Street, which is where the Subway is — and where I had started. The next lunch place is practically home, so I didn't eat out.
This morning's paper says that because of a legal glitch, the destruction will be post-poned until July. But with Argon to Bronson already off limits, I won't be making all that much use of Bronson to Hickory.
Today's story doesn't say anything about the insane plan to put a straight-through lane to the right of a right-turn lane. I wrote a letter to the editor when the first story was printed, and checked that it was "properly formatted" as in "we print all letters that are properly formatted", but there has been no sign that the TU received it.
Mystery solved. It's in the sent-LOCs folder, but the headers don't say that it has been sent.
I undressed into the washing machine when I got home. Somehow I managed to pour half my communion wine into my lap — it's amazing how far half a thimble of wine will go! Fortunately, I was dressed entirely in black, so it didn't show.
It was a lovely day for a walk, with every twig on every tree outlined in snow. Not even dangerous walking, since there was no ice under the snow, and snow that had been pounded into ice was plainly visible. But it took about twice as long as in the summer.
⁂
Today's "Dogs of C-Kennel" comic puts me in mind of the Superbowl parties the New Salem Volunteer Fire Department used to have. I always attended — and always went home when the game started.
I washed clothes and changed a sheet on Monday, walked to the bank on Tuesday, and went shopping by car today. I went to Big R to buy dry cat food, to Sally's Beauty Supply to buy a dressing comb — they have several kinds now, none of them the one I bought before — and to Aldi and Owen's for fizzwater.
Weather Underground says that Monday will be a good day to ride a bicycle, if Sunday's snow gets plowed off before ten, but I think I just chickened out of riding my bike to my appointment with Dr. Hollar. I can dress for the weather, but peeling all that off when I get there and putting it back on again is a bit much.
The thought of unwrapping and re-wrapping my feet was the final straw. Fluffy wool socks are a pain to put on one over the other.
And I'd have to wear something decent under my alpaca tights: white sheer-silk tights won't do.
Weather Underground says that Tuesday will also be a good day for a ride, and after a mostly-sunny Monday the roads should be clear — but I'll be a day overdue for the wash.
I have just decided not to go to the church's Women's Connection meeting tonight. If it were at the church, I would go, but it's at Martin's Cafe. I'll walk a mile, but not drive five.
Perhaps I'll go after Daylight Savings starts and I can come home by daylight.
Just checked Weather Underground. The sun sets at six, the party starts at four; I could go and leave at five-thirty. But nervously watching the clock counter-acts what a sewing circle is for.
Besides, I spent yesterday driving the car. It didn't hurt my rotator cuff, but the two short sections of US 30 I used have curves and stoplights. I should come up with a reason to drive to Tractor Supply — not much longer, but all the addition is straight.
⁂
I finally got the bolt of muslin onto a shelf today. I haven't finished putting back the stuff I had to move to do so, however.
I did discover that I have a copy of McCunn's _How to Make Sewing Patterns_, which I had been wanting. I wonder how I got hold of it; it isn't sold on Amazon, and I don't do Pay Pall.
I also found a ball of Speed-Cro-Sheen. This is no longer available, and I've been needing some for my teaching shuttle for *years*.
Nothing to report, praise the Lord, about church today. Attendance was very sparse, presumably because roads are slick and lots of people are sick.
Remember when the World Wide Web was a network of connected websites and you could crawl around on it for hours? Today I clicked on a link in a comment on Patricia Wrede's blog, then on another link after reading what I'd come for.
A third link was to an account of how a fellow had hooked up a Raspberry Pi to his GPS so that his current location was continuously posted on a passworded Web site and the people expecting him could track him like a package.
Strikes me that it would be more efficient to have a gadget that sends a fill-in-the-blanks text or e-mail when you push a button marked "I'm gonna be late" or "I'm almost there".
Today's Pickles comic strip nailed it: Mrs. Pickles came home from the store and immediately sat down to write a new shopping list.
I didn't see Dr. Hollar today — he's at a convention or seminar or something. His substitute said my teeth won't need any attention before my next cleaning in August.
I drove the Versa; Dave had cleaned it off and parked it in the garage. Had to take a run at the end of the driveway in both directions, but it made it over with little fuss.
I've got the bike packed for a dump tour tomorrow. Hope it doesn't snow in the night. I hope Dave doesn't run out of socks.
Weather Underground says I'll want wool tights under my alpaca tights. I think I'll wear three sheer silk shirts under my jerseys.
Ugh. It also predicts rain for Wednesday and Thursday. Not before March, guys!
Lovely day for a ride. Google says that it was 9.7 miles, but I'm sure that I left more than three tenths unrecorded.
I noticed something odd in the morning. I walked to the end of the lane, walking in the left wheel track and pushing the bike through the snow between the tracks. Once in the road, I mounted up, then about halfway to the bridge I wondered why the fronts of my thighs were cold, then realized that I'd forgotten my wind pants. So I went back, and walked back to the house in the same wheel track, with the bike beside me in the less-beaten track.
As I was leaving for the second time, my bike's front wheel fell into the track I'd left in the snow the first time through, and insisted on following the trail I'd broken. At that point, I realized that on the first trip, I'd left only one track — the back wheel had followed exactly behind the front wheel.
I was dressed much too warmly to spend any time indoors, so I was pleased to reflect that Panda Express leaves the outdoor tables out all winter, the sun was bright and warm, and there was very little wind.
Then I arrived and realized that Panda Express didn't have any reason to shovel the snow off the chairs. Bikes don't have windows, so I didn't have a snow brush or an ice scraper. I got my food, then did a strip tease while it lost what little heat the steam table imparts.
I ordered Beijing Beef because it had the highest calorie count, forgetting that that is because there are hardly any vegetables in it.
I stopped at International Foods on the way back, and saw bags containing twelve packets of instant tea drink, "Drink it hot or cold!". I thought that that would be a very convenient way to carry my caffeine hit, so I checked the ingredients for nasties and bought a bag. When I got it home, I read the directions and they said to add 200 ml. of *hot* water to each packet.
I also bought a package of six egg rolls and baked them for supper. Having had no nap, I was too sleepy to eat and ate only one, and two were enough for Dave's normal appetite, so there are three in the fridge.
Two, now. While writing that, I realized that it was time for my ten-o'clock snack.
When sorting the laundry, I thought that this was a small wash even without considering that I was two days late. While hanging up the whites, I realized that I'd forgotten to change the pillow cases.
Fortunately, I just made five new pillowcases, so we aren't going to run short.
The new cases are too loose; I've half a mind to tear off another two-and-a-sixth yards so I can do the job right. When the rest of the cases I made from worn-out sheets wear out, we will have only nine for the eight pillows, so making more now wouldn't be too far out of line.
Comcast allowed me to download my e-mail this morning. I must get on with gaining access to my Gmail account. Gag, spit. So many spammers and trashers sign up with Gmail that I'm going to *hate* signing Usenet posts with a Gmail address. But it will be at least a year before Comcast admits that they want to get out of providing a service they can't sell ads on.
Dave said that when e-mail goes, he's going to dump Comcast.
It's been warm so long, not to mention rainy, that there was no chance of slippery spots on the sidewalks, but it felt queer to leave the house without my cane. It felt even queerer not to have it when I left the church. I started down Ninth Street, a car came along, and I reflected that a cane would have been convenient to have when I stepped over the curb into dead leaves . . . HEY WAITAMINIT! — I can use the staircase now.
Luckily, I hadn't quite passed the last gap in the hand rail.
And when I passed Rhody/Heritage Room, the sidewalk was surer footing than cutting across the lawn.
Urgh. I forgot that I'd meant to run up and down the staircases a couple of times while I was in the church. Going down into the basement is only half a flight, and I came out through the ramp room.
I hope that locking the door when I left was the right thing to do.
I wonder what's "tactical" about the "tactical backpack" that came with a magazine subscription? There is no waist belt, so you can't carry anything heavy, and yesterday I thought of using it to carry my bag of fruitcake and discovered that there was no way to lash anything to it. During the night, the dime dropped: I don't have to take them insulated bag and all, and I don't have to take *all* of them, so this morning I put six cakes into the "tactical backpack", and discovered that the straps held my shoulders back and prevented me from reaching forward. All very well for walking to church or marching in a parade, but "tactical" makes me think of wearing it while climbing a ladder or doing some work.
That will probably be better when I adjust it to ride lower on my back — but there is no waist belt.
When getting ready to come home from church, I found an upper-chest belt that helped a little with the padded straps in the armpits. I suspect that the strap was meant for a chest about four inches wider, but at least it was high enough to clear the mammaries. I'm not absolutely certain that it would have been high enough on a younger woman.
And though there are no D-rings or other provision for lashing things to the pack, I can tie plastic bags to the elastics for slipping things under.
I do appreciate the handle for carrying it as a handbag.
It was a pitiful thunderstorm we had in the night last night, but it was pretty good for February. It was wet all day today.
All of today's laundry is on one rack. Except for what was dried on hangers or in the dryer, and that's been put away.
The lake is a bit more than level full, as one would expect after four inches of rain.
The gazebo pad is under water. I'll have to walk on the railroad tie the next time I carry out the garbage.
I wish I'd driven a stake at the edge of the lake so I could see whether it's up or down. It would have to rise a good bit more to reach the cottonwoods that used to stand on the shore.
I drove to Owen's today, because we were running out of milk. I was surprised to see patches of ice still in the parking lot. The ice is well insulated with a thick layer of dirt.
Where the pavement of Owen's parking lot is broken, it's broken into tiny bits, creating at least two big potholes. With the broken asphalt scattered all around, the potholes look like small explosions.
Unlike snow melt, the rain doesn't leave deep puddles. The snowmelt puddles flow fast enough to make ripples, so I expected that and wore my usual sandals.
Did I mention that I've made an appointment to get an annoying bump taken off my lip? Before breakfast today, I wiped the bump off with a paper handkerchief after blowing my nose. It left a bright red spot, so I'm not cancelling.
I put the camera on tulip and took a picture of it. I've never gotten such a good look at my mustache!
⁂
When I went out to close the garage door this evening, I saw ducks swimming in the park. This was a great relief; when we get flooded like this there are usually ducks all over, but we haven't been seeing any birds of any kind.
High winds in the night piled up debris along the edge of the lake. When the water goes down and the trash dries out, it will be easy to rake up.
The stakes Dave planted aren't right at the edge of the water, as near as I can tell without going out there. And the rain will hold off for a while. I wonder whether the Tippy is still scheduled to crest tomorrow. I *think* that it gets into Center Lake, but not Pike.
It occurred to me this morning that I can look at Arthur Street to see whether Sunset is open.
⁂
And I can look at the boardwalk to see whether Arthur Street is open.
At last! Tomorrow I can ride to Walmart — and I can't remember why I wanted to go.
The edge of the lake is more than a foot and a half from the stake Dave put beside the garden, and the garden is completely drained.
If Sunset is closed, I think I'll take Husky Trail. I haven't looked at it since the construction, I'm pretty sure that I got past 200 N before I got fully freaked the last time I rode on Husky Trail, it's less than a mile to where I'd want to turn left, I'll be wearing walking shoes, and there's a sidewalk.
I *think* there's a sidewalk.
The stake beside the garden is a yard farther from the lake than it was yesterday, and the wind sock is limp, but there is frost on the lawn and the lake is frozen around the edges.
I doubt that Sunset is drained enough that I wouldn't have to wade the last few feet — in ice water, and it took me five minutes to put on my stockings this morning. I'm not even going to look at it.
⁂
I did look at it from the north end. It's deep enough that I'm not sure that the sidewalk is dry all the way. This surprised me a little, because I thought the swamp under the boardwalk on the other end of Pike Lake was dryer than usual, and speculated that the dam had been opened to make room for more rain. But I didn't go any farther than the look-out. Probably that section of swamp rarely has standing water.
Some of the dry land I could see from the lookout looked as though flowing water had flattened the weeds.
I got seven of my eight debits today. Two from Aldi and two from Meijer. I passed Aldi on my way north and dashed in to get a bottle of fish-oil capsules in case I didn't pass Aldi on the way back, then I did pass Aldi on the way back and got the rest of the things on my list. Except for Great Northern beans. I got tired of hunting for dry beans, and stopped at Owen's to buy a pound, and got a couple of pork chops for tomorrow's supper while I was there.
At Meijer, I went in to look around before going to Panda Express for lunch, bought a jar of Branston Pickle, then remembered that I wanted to look for paper plates, and it turned out that they did have six-inch plates. Those used to be everywhere; I wonder why they are so hard to find now.
It's amazing how much stuff I can get into my panniers when I've already got a pair of sweat pants, a windbreaker, and a pair of gloves in them.
I put the gloves and windbreaker back on for the last leg of the trip.
The daffodils are going to regret getting so tall so early.
Everywhere I went yesterday, I noticed that the thaw has reached the water that seeped through cracks in pavement and froze.
Now I realize that the damaged spots were mostly more-or-less round. Must be something systematic.
It's washday and piano-tuner day, and Dave has a an appointment with the doctor whose name I can't spell. Also the day to Roomba the room the tuner will be working in. We'll postpone that.
⁂
Three loads. Well, two and a half. I dried the sheet on the line. It was windy, so I brought the sheet in before my nap. It was windy, so the sheet was dry.
I did a terrible job of folding it. (I'd already put the new sheet on the bed, so the just-washed one went into the linen closet.
I just realized that the linen closet would be a "cupboard" if I kept canned goods in it. English is a weird language.
I must have written the previous installment just before naptime.
Looked out upon rising and saw lawn all the way to the weather station and the wind sock.
⁂
And the lake is entirely on its side of the fence.
Looked out a few minutes before time to put the frozen pizza into the oven, and said "Oh, to be a hot-blooded child!" Three children had small oval boards, which they carried toward a puddle in the park at a run, then threw down and jumped onto, to skid across the puddle. One fell, but caught itself with its arms and didn't get its clothing wet.
It didn't take long for them to get tired of it and wander off. I went out barefoot to dispose of the garbage, but the puddle is probably colder than the grass.
⁂
On Monday, I tried sweetening my bottle of tea with a packet of tea drink. It made it bitter instead, and reacted oddly when I added orange juice — the creamer in it is a bit more like cream than I expected. It was potable after I added some honey and lemon, and certainly did the job. I'd been home a couple of hours before I started to feel sleepy.