Weather Underground says that next Monday will be a good day to run a hot-with-bleach load and dry it in the sun.
When cleaning up after Saturday night's party, I put a pitcher of ice water into the fridge. I think I'll leave it there all summer.
I stopped at Owen's on my way back from the Beyer Building because we were out of carrots and spaghetti. I took a ninety-nine-cent bag containing four very large oranges from the shelf where they put unlabeled produce. After supper Dave cut one up and found that they are very small grapefruit — and delicious. I wonder whether they are Texas grapefruit.
While I was gone, Dave cleaned out the part of the front gutter that he can reach while standing in the truck bed. After my nap, I climbed the ladder twice, cleaned out half of the other half of the gutter, then reflected that I shouldn't take any risk of getting tired while standing on a ladder and said that I'd finish in the cool of the evening.
It was cooler after supper, but I was also stuffed with spaghetti. Then a few minutes later, Dave noted that rain was coming down Route 30, and I decided that I should fetch the tools down off the roof. Then I thought, well, as long as I'm up here, and finished the job. I'd done a bit more than half the first time, so it didn't take long.
Then I had Dave hand up the hose (he'd been spotting me all this time) and blasted out the half of the gutter that I could squirt without moving the ladder. Some of the dirt came back with the piled-up water when I turned the hose off, but Dave saw water coming out of the drain hose vigorously while I was spraying, so the downspout isn't blocked.
The rain still hasn't gotten here.
On the way home from the farmers' markets, I noted that it had been a long time since I had lunch at the Detroit-Street Subway. It is going to be another long time before I go back, if only because the music was so loud that the clerk had to ask me every question three times.
I added smock pockets to my slopping-around T-shirts last week, so when I was brushing out pockets, I expected those on the blue T-shirt to be quite clean because I hadn't yet put anything in them.
Turned out they were full of gutter dust.
We've each been up the ladder cleaning the gutter on the other side of the house. One day when I woke up from my nap I heard a generator noise from the patio. It turned out to be the air compressor. Dave had noticed that it's been dry so long that he could just blow the rest of the debris out.
How did we ever get along without an air compressor?
Excellent drying day — some of the things had perfectly-dry spots when I hung them up. But it's a little too windy to leave things out very long. Pity, because half the wash is hot whites that could use a prolonged sunning.
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On the other hand, I had everything but the socks in the dryer put away before I took a nap.
Or tried to. Just as I was dozing off, someone whose access to all long-distance communication lines should be severed rang the phone, and went into a prolonged silence when I asked him how he'd come by my number.
The call I'd been expecting came in the afternoon: the results of Thursday's X-rays. I need to go back for an MRI and a CP-scan. The caller had just had a CP scan and said it was nothing; Dave says that an MRI is really cool.
I've got curvature of the spine. I wonder how long that has been going on.
Just tried to look up "CP-Scan"; I think that she must have said "CT-Scan". Whatever, my only duty is to turn up in the appointed place at the appointed time. I appear to have a clear July, so the scheduling nurses have been told to take their pick.
There was shocking news in the afternoon paper: Joni Feng has closed the Great Wall, sold the building, and retired.
I knew that Mrs. Feng was always there when we went, but supposed that our habitual time was her shift. I had no idea that her shift was sixteen hours!
I should have put Dave's pedometer on before I started to sort the scrambled papers on the eating table. I envisioned sitting quietly and putting each paper on a pile on a chair or the table. But nearly every item had a belonging spot in the sewing room or the bedroom closet, and no prospect of gathering companions. The only piles that developed were recycling bin, Hoosier Farmer, and "deal with later". That last pile is mercifully small, and the northwest corner of the sewing room looks *much* better.
I didn't realize Friday was the thirteenth until I downloaded Duck Down and Above's Friday specials.
There are a couple of things that would motivate me to take the ride if my knee didn't hurt.
I might go to the fair that evening, if it isn't too hot.
Absolutely nothing from 7:45 to 9:45. It's surprisingly hard to do without water for two hours — there are so many "take a sip now" cues.
My first thought was that no breakfast meant I could sleep late, then I realized that I had to get my pills down by seven-thirty. I woke up at six-thirty, took them, then couldn't get back to sleep, so at eight-thirty-six I'm all dressed and ready to go and I'm not due at the Beyer Building until a quarter of eleven. I think I'll roll at half-past nine.
Turns out that an MRI is quite restful. I can see how folks with claustrophobia could be triggered even though it's open on both ends and one could crawl out at any time — all one can *see* is that there's white plastic about six inches from your face. Some, the radiologist said, put a washcloth over their eyes.
Woke up at a quarter of eight, realized that I hadn't taken my Levothyroxin at three, and got so exercised that I couldn't get back to sleep, so we had a cooked breakfast and I'm still going to get to church early, if I don't fool around with the computer too long.
Isn't that a ridiculous day's harvest for the sixteenth of July?
No word on when Brent plans to bury the old asparagus bed.
I picked three more early this morning, two of them of a decent size. That was less than a day after yesterday's picking.
So I went out to check again before my nap, found a catnip plant, and moved it into the fern bed. "If you set it, the cats will get it", but it's been ages since anybody came to play with Al through the glass. People must be keeping their pets inside so they don't get fried.
We got fifteen hundredths of an inch of rain during my nap yesterday.
We should get a break in the heat by Sunday. I have vowed to finish shortening my linen dress by then, and I already have the new hem pinned.
Now I've got to hem the underlining.
Dave has finished stripping the paint off the canoe. After years of dithering between "fix it" and "haul it to Lewis Salvage" — he actually had it on the trailer once — he's gotten serious about the project.
He plans to leave it aluminum colored.
Something has been picking the cucumbers off Dave's vines. When he planted five hills, I thought we'd be up to our necks in cucumbers, but the vines aren't producing much faster than he eats them.
The multiplier harvest was slightly disappointing, but otherwise my part of the garden seems to be doing fine — partly because Dave waters it whenever he sprinkles his cucumbers.
Mainly because all I planted was onions and potatoes. I meant to plant carrots and radishes too, but it was too hot to work outside.
Nearly two inches of rain! We needed that.
I dashed out between showers to buy a timer at Ace, not so much because it was twenty percent off as because Ace is the only place where I've seen that particular timer. While I was there, I got a twenty-five-foot hose and a hose nozzle to replace the scrap of hose I've been using to wash cat boxes. Now I won't have to go back to the faucet every time I want to stop the water for a moment, and I can get a blastier stream with the nozzle than I can manage by putting a finger on the end of the hose.
Dave liked the zinc nozzle so well he bought another one for the long yellow hose.
I hope Ace doesn't turn into another empty eyesore like Marsh.
We went to Jonah and Rebecca's rehearsal dinner tonight. I overheard that there will be brownies and custard at the wedding, and Martha is decorating the cake.
The rain can stop now, please.
Beautiful wedding. We skipped the reception, as both of us had gotten tired.
I spent the entire day getting ready for my appointment tomorrow.
I spent the morning shortening the sleeves on my yellow-orange jersey, which has been on my to-do list for a long time, but not wanting to wear my old ragged curry jersey again provided me with a deadline.
The afternoon and evening were spent scanning my living will and printing a copy, reviewing the registration forms I'd filled out yesterday, sorting my waiting-room needlework, laying out my clothes for an early start, and the like.
For needlework, I chose an old wool jersey that I would replace if either cycling clothes in women's sizes or machine-washable wool were available. Darning that will allow me to wait out any thunderstorm! I took a couple of books for before the appointment, since books are easier to jam back into the attaché case.
Friday, sweet Friday, with nothing to do!
The physical therapist modified the exercises Dr. Darr had given me, told me to do them twice a day instead of once, and said that he didn't want to risk physical therapy until he got an opinion from the back doctor.
He also said that walking and cycling are good for me as long as I stop when it hurts.
No thunderstorm developed, and I never touched the worn-out jersey. I left it in the bag for the Monday after next.
There are nine swans a swimming in the lake. It's at least twenty years past time for DNR to start issuing "kill all you can eat" licenses to everyone who can demonstrate that he can tell a wild swan from a feral swan.
Usual tour of the farmers' markets, plus lunch at a "barbecue" to benefit the Animal Welfare League. I couldn't buy a sandwich by itself, so I bought nachos. Whereupon I discovered that I don't like nachos. They were good (if you like sugar in your chili), but I'd a heap rather have my chips and dips in separate bowls. I was sorry that I didn't have a mirror to check my face for spatters.
I must remember to take a cake to church next Sunday.
All the rain barrels are full, including a barrel Dave put out after the other barrels were full. I looked at the garbage plate, thought that it was past time to carry it out, looked out the window, and reflected that the garbage wasn't actually drawing flies yet.
Weather Underground says that the first day I can get out will be Friday, but it should stay dry through Sunday. Might get some garden work done on Thursday.
How many times can we flip-flop between too much rain and no rain at all in a single summer?