I visited Indiana Restaurant Equipment and Harbor Freight today.
Upon leaving Harbor Freight, I decided to see whether I could get to Orthopedic Drive through the parking lots of the businesses on that side. (It's possible, but not exactly convenient.) I came out behind a building that hadn't been there the previous time I wanted to use Orthopedic Drive to get across US 30, so even though I recognized the curve in the road and so forth, I wasn't as oriented as I might have been.
So when I came within sight of the intersection and saw a huge Dollar Tree façade, I thought I was trying to cross into the wrong part of the sprawl — but no part of the sprawl looks like that!
Before I got to the stop line, I noticed the sign for Big R, and realized that I was looking at the old Aldi building.
It appears to be nearly ready to open; the outside is finished, and when I peered in through the door, there were piles of boxes that might be merchandise waiting to be put on shelves. The check-outs are where they used to be, but not as many, and the bagging shelf is gone.
I wonder why there has been nothing in any of the news stories and zoning-board reports?
So I searched Ink-Free News. It was mentioned on April 23.
I bought a spatula and three cans of cat food at Big R, went through the shoe store in Sprawl Three, and headed toward Sprawl One intending to try the chalupa at Taco Bell. Just as I was about to enter Sprawl Two, my cell phone chirped, so I hung a right, parked in front of Wings, downloaded the message, went in, sneaked up behind Dave, and said "You chirped?"
I stuck him with the bill for my lunch.
I used to say that my favorite recipe starts "take one set of car keys", but of late I've been riding the bike. I could walk to Sweet Dreams, but the sandwich would get cold. Unless I'm on the way home from somewhere else, driving is right out: the parking lot isn't a bunch closer than the house.
A post on Creative Machine, about a fabulous charity sale the writer was about to attend, says that she intended to wear a cross-body bag. If she sets a handbag down, someone is likely to to buy it.
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Just got an e-mail saying the contract to sell the farm is almost ready for my signature.
After that, we'll have to go to Frankfort to transfer the title. Perhaps I can arrange for those who have the day off to meet at a restaurant afterward.
Al is feeling better! This morning I put the things that belong in my jersey pockets on the treadle sewing machine, as I do every Saturday morning May through October, and Al promptly knocked them to the floor, jumped off, "disembowled" my lipstick, batted my sunscreen and A&D into corners, and attacked my key chain.
I put my cell phone on the floor under the machine.
When he got tired, he lay down with a protective paw on my notebook.
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When I drove to Rentown, I was very nervous on 800W because weeds concealed the edge of the pavement and I couldn't see whether they were growing on a shoulder or in a ditch.
Just before going to bed tonight I read the Times Union Online headlines, and clicked on the story about the ethanol tanker that rolled over and caught fire. "Reed told police his tanker was carrying about 7,700 gallons of ethanol alcohol when his tractor/trailer dropped off the shoulder of CR 800W."
It rolled several times.
(By a miracle, the driver didn't require medical attention.)
I read somewhere that 800W is scheduled for work.
Our kitchen is infested with little flying bugs. They are not flies or fruit flies, and we don't think they are ants or termites. They appear to be particularly fond of resting on the kitchen sponge, but those appear to be dead. At least they don't react when I flush them down the sink.
It would appear, knock wood, that all of them were in the sink when Dave flushed it before washing the dishes. But now there's a fly in the kitchen.
It was probably there all along, but lost in the crowd.
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Then the next time I went into the kitchen, I stirred up a cloud of them. Fewer, and averaging livelier.
In catching up with the newspaper in the middle of the night, I learned that I missed the Legion's wonderful pork-chop dinner last Saturday.
If I'd gone down Fort Wayne instead of Main, I would have smelled it.
I went down Main because I wanted a book from the library. Afterward, I walked through parking lots to Chinatown Express and bought a bowl of soup to eat in the park on Arthur Street.
The bugs are sluggish again this morning. We may get them all flushed down the garbage disposal.
Weather Underground says the wind will rise, but only to eight miles an hour. Looks like a good day for drying clothes.
Tomorrow evening should be a good time to burn the diseased fern fronds.
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The final contract for selling the forty acres Dad inherited from his father came in the evening e-mail. It bugs me a bit that the land is frequently referred to as "unimproved". I do know the legal meaning of "unimproved", but good farm land has been improved quite a lot!
Comcast has suddenly and without warning decided that I'm not allowed to send mail. It's still letting me download e-mail.
I checked, and I've made the changes that had to be made or it would stop working in November.
A test message from gmail went, so it *is* Comcast that's malfunctioning.
I sent the contract to Dave by intranet before I thought of trying g-mail.
Since Yahoo's instructions for changing your email address don't work, all my mailing lists are dead except Arachne, and I practically never have anything to say on the lace list.
Dave got me back on my e-mail lists today. Comcast wanted Thunderbird to send it some random-looking letters, which he copied from his copy of Thunderbird.
The flying bugs are gone, or mostly gone. We still have fruit flies. Dave is hunting over bait.
I burned the ferns and tomato vines yesterday. I found some un-burned bits this morning, but they will be safe in the middle of the griddle I use for a hearth.
I dropped the contract off at the lawyer's office Tuesday morning, then rode to Walmart by way of McElroy Hill. (Ever since I found out that that hill has a name, I've been using it as often as possible.)
Except for picking up milk on the way home, I didn't find anything on my list. Not even lunch! One reason for choosing the McElroy route was that I wanted a sausage warmed up on the hot-dog roller in the CitGo station at the foot of the hill, but every column had a sign saying "not cooked yet". But they also sell single-serve pizza.
I did buy a box of cutesy half-pint canning jars and two cans of pickled beets.
When I got back, Dave and I went to Taco Tuesday at El Faro. We will do that again.
Yesterday, it was too cold to hang up clothes barefoot and I couldn't remember where I put my sheepskin slippers, so I put on a spectacular* pair of gym shoes that I found while re-arranging the closet. I mail-ordered them from Wide Shoes for Men, heaven knows when. It was before Amazon.
*One of Bugs Bunny's monsters wears such shoes.
They turned out to be so comfortable that I wore them the rest of the day. Pity I'm so short of not-thick socks.
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When Al escaped yesterday, he wasn't nearly as hard to catch as usual.
Heavens! It was not only a real call, it was for me!
Pre-registration for my mammogram tomorrow.
I wanted to ride my bike to the mammogram, but couldn't face the thought of taking off five shirts while the radiologist waited, so I drove, then went to Tractor Supply to pick up two cases of "renal support" cat food, then stopped at Big R to buy three bags of litter. Who says cats don't get you out of the house the way dogs do?
Also looked over the new Dollar Tree, but didn't buy anything. Then it was time for lunch. I'd been looking forward to trying the "chalupa" at Taco Bell, but I decided that it would be quicker to go straight home on Wooster than to wend through all the parking lots of three strip malls.
When I cancelled yesterday's ride, it was partly because today is predicted to have less cold, less wind, and more sun, but I didn't feel like planning and preparing yesterday evening.
Now I'd like to play with XP a while, but the light from the window makes it almost impossible to read the monitor, so I guess I'll have to read my "to do" list.
Flying-insect season appears to be almost over, but we've still got ants.
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I needn't buy any more Science Diet Urinary Support cat food. One flavor is lumps in gravy, and pushing the lumps through a tea strainer makes it even less edible. The other flavor is sharp, brittle lumps pressed together to simulate pate, and crushing the lumps doesn't help. I just set out about half a can of it — some scraped off plates — for the critter that Al was yowling at last night.
Even though I set out scraps fairly often, it's been years since the stray cat came to cat-fight with him. Pawing a glass window was good harmless exercise.
Going to Kohl's Plaza didn't sound like much fun, so I went to a craft sale on West Old 30, where I had a pretty good lunch, then I pottered around in Warsaw for a couple of hours. I meant to look around the Trailhouse for bikes that could be set up with double cranksets and not more than six cogs, but they had closed an hour early.
I came home with full panniers, having stopped at Dollar General and Warsaw Health foods. Plates and plastic knives at D.G., greasy and sugary snacks at the health-food store. I bought turnips at the fairgrounds market and ripe pears at the courthouse market.
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I'm not the only one to notice that all the dishes in the dishpan are Al's. I don't like to eat hot soup out of paper, so when I set the table for supper, I took two ceramic soup bowls out of the cupboard — and Al came trotting into the kitchen meowing in excited anticipation.
I cut up two of the pears and mixed them with a can of pineapple. In the morning, I plan to empty the remaining frozen cherries into it and call it fruit salad. I've forgotten what is going on at the church tomorrow, but I did remember that I'm supposed to bring a dessert.
There was a much better fruit salad on the table, and mine wasn't touched.
I ended up spending the whole service in the kitchen. One advantage of having the congregation bring only desserts: there were pies and cakes to slice, but nobody brought ingredients and cooking instructions.
It rained, so I dried the clothes on racks in front of the air filter. Now I'm wondering where to stash the apron so that it's out of the way, but I don't forget to take it back to the church.
All the fun goes right out of a shopping trip when you realize that your debit card is in the pocket of your other pants, even though I had more than enough cash to buy more stuff than would fit into my panniers.
The whole purpose of yesterday's trip was to eat a chalupa at Taco Bell — I'd been reading disparaging remarks, and wanted to see for myself. I arrived late for lunch, parked beside the highway-side door, took off my gloves, and found the door locked. So I walked around to the main door, which was unlocked, but had a sign on it saying that the dining room was closed for want of staff, please use the drive-through. So I saddled up and rode out. As I was passing the entrance to the drive-through I briefly considered getting into line, but there were three cars and possibly more around the corner, I hadn't seen *one* car coming out in all the time I'd been there, and I'd have to wait standing in exhaust fumes. I suppose the drive-through was also understaffed.
I went back to Walmart — in the process discovering that there is an easier way to get across 300 N. I'd had a long walk through the construction going north; on the way back, I learned that a driveway that used to dead-end now connects to Sheldon Street just before the blockage. I ate a very nice bacon pizza, then wandered around Walmart for a while, because I'd lost the desire for a long ride through the country.
I went back the way I'd come, which involves crossing both 15 and 30. Going in this direction, I could see that there is a new right-turn lane on Anchorage, but I didn't see any improvement on getting across. I didn't have spare attention to observe the west side. On the way out, I'd crossed 30 on Meijer Drive, so I didn't see it then either.
Stopped at Owen's for a flu shot and a gallon of milk — which one *can* add to full panniers; I just took the bag of two sweat pants and one pair of warm tights that I'd found at Goodwill out of the pannier, put in the milk, wedged it into place with some wrapping paper I hadn't been able to get rid of, then jammed the pants into the space that was left.
While standing in line to pay for the milk, I deeply regretted not taking note of when sunset is now, but the sun was still four fingers above the horizon when I came out.
Since today was predicted to be a good drying day —or as good as you can expect in October— I washed the rags and towels in hot water and lots of bleach. When I was pulling the cotton-knit rags out of the basket I thought "I don't remember having a brown T-shirt." Shook it out, and it was a pair of formerly-black tights that I had kicked around the kitchen floor to clean up spills.
I threw a stained undershirt in too. It came out whiter, which made the stains stand out more.
Three lines were convenient: one for bath linen, one for kitchen linen, one for cleaning rags. No sorting when I brought the stuff in.
When I was at Walmart, I noticed a gold-colored fork. The label said "titanium plated". I thought that probably meant "coated with titanium nitride". It didn't cost a lot; I thought I'd buy it just for a lark — then I noticed another "titanium plated" fork that was purple with teal around the edges and gold highlights that made it look iridescent. Wow! I bought that one.
But when I put it on the table, it looks more dirty than sparkling.
After Al eats his wet food, I put a half teaspoon or so of water on his plate, sweep the crumbs together, and crush them to flavor the water. This gets a little more water into a cat with kidney stones.
This morning I got up, gave him a quarter of a three-ounce can, and went back to bed to do my morning exercises. Al came back yowling when I was halfway through. I said "cool it!", finished the exercises, and went back to the kitchen with an eager escort.
I found that he'd licked his breakfast to the extreme edge of the saucer, stopped at that point, and come back for me.
Now if he could learn to walk around to the other side of the saucer . . .
Tomorrow is probably the last day that Bonneyville Mill will be open. Ah, well, I bake so little that my supply of white wheat will probably last until May, and I can buy red wheat at Spring Creek.
Inspired by checking my flour inventory, I put the dry ingredients for a batch of bread into my twelve-quart bowl so I can bake flat sandwich buns tomorrow. Or maybe one tray of buns and a small loaf of bread.
The church is handing out candy tomorrow evening, but I'll probably forget to go.
News Now says Halloween has been postponed until Friday because of rain.
A dozen rolls are in the oven. Long ago, I tried to make hamburger buns, and they came out flat. These buns are tall and fluffy. I should have stuck by my original decision to make eighteen, and flattened them to final diameter after putting them on the cookie sheet.
But with eighteen, it's division by three all the way. Also, there are only two racks in the oven; the third tray would be over-risen.
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Eleven and a half hamburger buns cooling. I think next time, I'll break the lump of dough in half as soon as I finish kneading, freeze half, and make a dozen buns.
Or roll out a pizza crust and chill it until time to make pizza.
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Woo hoo! It isn't just snowing, it's snowing sideways. I'm pretty sure that there are some green peppers worth saving in Kathy's garden, but for the last two days I haven't even gone out to empty the garbage plate.
It's supposed to be very cold, but mostly sunny and less windy tomorrow.
Sun sets at 6:42 today; curfew will be five o'clock next week. We set up this Daylight thingumbob backward.
Supper was left-over spanish hamburger on fresh-baked hamburger buns.
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It looks as though we can sign all the papers to sell the farm without going to Frankfort.