My phone's battery is already down to 66%. I poked a little deeper and discovered that power-saving mode was off. None of the services that power-saving switches off are services that I use — c'mon, who would browse on a *flip-phone*? I have no Bluetooth devices, and whatever "geolocation" is, I'm probably better off without it.
The "Crofton Painted Acacia Wood Board" in today's Aldi ad reminded me of the painted cutting board I saw at the craft show on Saturday. Those seem to be the latest fad, and I can't see it at all. The board was called "serving" rather than "cutting" (Aldi was wise enough to settle for saying "board"), but if you serve something on a board, it's likely to be something that people want to cut a slice of. Perhaps they turn it upside down when using it, and store it on the counter, leaned against the wall to show the paint. The board in the ad doesn't have a hanging hole; I'm not sure about the one at the craft show.
I've been sorting my paperbacks to make them take up less space, and finding lots of stuff I want to read — I think that there are some things in there that I *haven't* read. The presence of bookmarks is suggestive, and the text doesn't seem familiar.
I think Al is trying to tell me that Heart to Tail Turkey & Giblets Entree isn't food.
So I got out the other can of Turkey & Giblets and put it on the pile of stuff to be taken to the animal shelter. I don't plan to go out that way any time soon.
Quicken says I have minus $29.92 cash. I actually have four tens, a five, two ones, and a lot of change.
I can't find any withdrawals that weren't recorded properly.
There was a river running down Sunday Lane when I walked to church, so I came back by Park Avenue. It was still raining, but not as hard.
I clicked on the Times-Union about ten after ten, and it was already up!
Only two loads of wash today. It's predicted to be a bit breezy, so I'm drying on racks indoors. The furnace is still on, so they should dry reasonably fast.
The Times-Union is not up at 9:05.
I stopped at Aldi on my way back from the skin doctor, and started my nap so late that it was time to eat supper before I woke up. Luckily, I'd already planned to warm up left-overs.
Lindsay gave me a clean bill of health, chortling "oh what beautiful skin" all the while, and she said to her assistant "she moisturizes and uses sunscreen". She also pointed out various spots and said "that's perfectly normal". I should have had my notebook out to write down the names of the spots; the only one I can remember is "keratosis", and I already knew that one. She didn't comment on the two burns; I presume that she assumed that I already knew all about those.
I didn't tell her I don't moisturize, except on the hands and feet. But by the time I Vitamin-E all my scars, I've oiled a lot of skin.
The assistant said that they'd send me a reminder to do this again next year.
⁂
It's getting on toward June. I couldn't monitor my nine-o'clock exercises in the patio door because the sun wasn't down yet.
After seasoning the beans I'd soaked overnight and putting them on the back burner, I was possessed by the notion that I'd left a long-simmering spice out. (Onions, peppers, and herbs get added in the afternoon.)
Eventually, I went to the freezer and took out the smoked pork necks that inspired this whole procedure.
The winter onions I planted on the south side of the house are finally starting to flourish. I might even put some into the soup.
⁂
I did, and it was good.
I inventoried two more books today, one of them with a lot of inscriptions to copy, and now we can see all the dictionaries on the coffee table. I doubt that I'll finish before the end of the month, and perhaps not by the end of June either. I'll move the notes from this file to \LETTERS\2021BANN\2021BAN6.HTM before sending this issue — perhaps commented out, so that you would need to "view source" to see them.
I plan to give the children's-book inventory a file of its own, but can't decide where to put it.
I bought a thyme plant and a marjoram plant at Open Air today, but didn't see anything to replace the rotting timbers of the raised herb beds.
I saw nothing to buy at either farmers' market — the fairgrounds market was sold out. I got home too late to take a nap; I hope I don't fall asleep during the sermon tomorrow.
I didn't cook supper for Dave today because I bought a twelve-inch sub for lunch and ate only half. (I *have* resumed carrying a bag of ice in my insulated pannier.) I won't cook tomorrow because he will be on clear liquids with no food coloring in them, which pretty much leaves water. He can't even have Gatorade, because it's blue.
I will put a couple of frozen perch filets covered with seasoned buttermilk into the fridge Sunday evening; he should be in the mood for fried fish when we get back from the hospital on Monday, and I've been wanting to try Alton Brown's chicken-frying method on fish. I plan to make hush puppies out of the fishy buttermilk.
Back from the hospital, and the colonoscopy didn't find anything wrong. This is both good and bad news: they still don't know what is causing Dave's problem. But the biopsies might turn up something.
I must get around to going to the teller machine; I've got two tens and a five in my wallet.
I don't think the fish in the buttermilk are completely thawed yet.
We had an early lunch/late breakfast of spanish hamburger and shredded cheese on flatbuns.
And we had fish and hush puppies for supper. I should have drained the skillet before putting hush puppies in; they soaked up every drop of grease. I made only one each; I'd put yeast into the batter so I could fry what was left over for breakfast today.
I put half a cup of corn meal, three-eighths of a teaspoon of baking soda, and half a teaspoon of yeast into a bowl, then added half a cup of the flour left from dredging the fish, and, after the fish hit the skillet, sufficient marinade to make a batter.
This morning I found the door to the small freezer where we keep ice cubes and breakfast foods standing open and everything thawed. Dave hastily changed his breakfast menu to breakfast bowl, and I put another into the fridge for my lunch, having already committed to hush-puppy cake for breakfast. But I put two chopped-up sausage links under it instead of one. And later I added a pre-cooked sausage patty to the remaining hush-puppy cake and stuck the skillet into the fridge, to crumble and stir up for my bedtime snack.
The critter that eats the left-over cat food may be in for a treat.
By good luck we weren't well-stocked with breakfast food, except for two unopened packages of sandwiches. There were four raw sausage patties left; I crumbled them up in a skillet, steamed for a while, and put them in a refrigerator dish.
Perhaps I should do the same for the cooked sausage patties, but they must be re-frozen by now.
The second load of clothes is on the final rinse cycle. I plan to take a nap before putting in the third, half-size, load.
Dave found his debit card missing this morning — after he'd started checking out at Martin's. But he had his card on my account. After searching every pocket he owned, he remembered that he last saw it when showing me how the new cards are portrait and the old ones are landscape. So I got out my deck, and there both cards were, his on top of mine. We had been afraid it had gotten lost during yesterday's fluttering around, putting his stuff in my attaché case and my pockets, and then giving it back when he was still drunk,
I had opened the case on the bed and packed it very neatly with breakfast, a bottle of water, magazines, silk tights in need of darning, a spare mask, handkerchiefs, etc.
I didn't stop to think that I would at no point open it flat to get something out or put something back — I would open the zipper across the top and reach in through the slit. It was pretty bulgy by the time we got home.
I drank all the water and ate all the food. Except for one snack stick. Dave expressed a longing for salt, and I was delighted that I hadn't bothered to remove hot-weather supplies from my emergency-food bag. But the nurse would have brought him another bag of chips if I hadn't had it.
Department of too soon old, too late smart: for at least forty years, I've been using plastic grocery bags to protect things I carry in my wire panniers. Often there isn't enough bag to fold down over the top of the item, and I have to pull another bag over the opening to close it. All these years it's been a struggle to get the second bag on without pushing back the first bag.
A week or so ago, I realized that one can put the second bag on sideways: the side of the first bag slides in as neat as you please, and can't peel back. Then the second bag holds the first bag in place while a third bag closes off the remaining gap.
Dave painted the other side of the door into the garage today, and plans to put it back in the doorway tomorrow.
Al has been sleeping against the screen door ever since Dave took the inner door down.
Tomorrow is predicted to be a good day for my Saturday ride. I plan to visit the farmers' markets and every garage sale between the courthouse and Parks-Schramm.
Weather underground says clouds clearing to a sunny afternoon, not too awful much wind, and a high of . . . 84°? I'd better take some of that switchel I just made, and get my thinner tights out of the back of the closet.
Owing to a malfunction of Google Maps, I won't be going to as many garage sales as I had planned. Why is it that when programs refuse to do as you want, they always wait to tell you about it until you've spent half an hour entering data?
Putting the door back up wasn't easy.
The screen opened out. The door opens in, but Al continued to sleep against it, which is rather dangerous because the threshold is high enough that his paw could be caught under the door when we open it.
Only a load and a half today. It's beautiful out, but Weather Underground says it might rain, so I'm drying the clothes on racks in the garage.
There are vultures all over the beach, or maybe they are buzzards — I never learned how to tell the difference.
Yesterday was a busy day.
On Monday, Dave ran out of loosely-woven sorta-terrycloth shop towels, the hot-water-and-bleach hamper was full, and Weather Underground predicted dry weather for Tuesday, so I put a load in the washer to soak in detergent overnight.
Washing in a computerized machine takes a lot of attention; for example, the only way I can have two hot cycles in a row is to hover over the machine and stop it during the first wring. At least I don't have to poise for the moment after it has stopped spinning and before it starts filling with cold water, because there is a "drain and spin" button.
When the towels were on the line, I put my jeans on and walked to the Trailhouse.
That story calls for backing up to Monday again. I had all the wash on racks or hangers before nap time, and woke up soon enough to dash to Kroger for eggs and potatoes, and pick up supper at Penguin Point.
At Penguin Point the boy told me that I'd have to wait fifteen minutes for them to fry four thighs, or they had wings and a breast already cooked. I ordered four wings and a breast, and waited a quarter of an hour for them to put them into a box and give them to me.
I was just past the little park on McKinley Street when it finally penetrated my thick skull that the thunk-thunking in my back wheel was Not Normal. In my defense, McKinley has a lot of transverse cracks, and crossing Center to get on McKinley takes very close attention.
When I stopped to investigate, I discovered that the pressure in my back tire was at equilibrium with the atmosphere.
So I needed not only a new tube, but a new casing. The mechanic said the old casing was worn thin anyhow. That might be part of how I came to puncture.
I called Dave, then emptied my panniers and sorted the stuff into bags, and he came for me in the truck. I had a nice big undeveloped lawn to wait on, and a sign to lean the bike against. I think the lawn belongs to the park, and still has buried inter-urban rails.
And the chicken wasn't at all good. Next time we feel like chicken, I'll go to KFC. But I think I'll try the Penguin Point on Lake Street the next time I'm out that way at lunch time. That's always been better than the place on Center.
The Trailhouse called me to come back for the bike just before I was through napping.
I warmed up left-over bean soup for supper. I set the fire alarm off in the process, but didn't burn the beans.
For the first time since we moved here, the Kosciusko Velo Club held a meeting that I can get to. They usually meet at Mad Anthony's, and I don't drive after supper, and don't ride after dark. So about seven I set off to walk downtown again. The meeting consisted of people standing around in the parking lot talking about bike racks and I didn't see any entry point, so I pretended that I was just passing through and came home again.
When I told Dave, he said "You've been riding longer than most of those guys have been alive."
When I dropped off my bike in the morning, I inquired about the rust spots on my frame, and he said that nothing short of sanding the old paint off would do it, but the spots spread so slowly that I needn't worry about it; I commented that the frame didn't need to last all that long because I'm eighty; he said "And you're riding *this* bike?"
I didn't mention that it takes a ceremony to get my leg over the top tube.
The potato salad is kind of blah. Disappointing, when the previous batch was superb. Pity I didn't take notes, but a key ingredient was loads of chives, and the chives are in bloom now. But you'd think that green garlic, shallots, and winter onions would make up for a lack of chives. Some kow choi (garlic chives) would have helped.
Perhaps it will improve when the thyme and oregano have had time for the flavor to leach out of the leaves.
Hmmm . . . I used dried thyme last time; this time I had fresh. Perhaps I didn't put in enough; it's very tedious to pick off the tiny leaves even when the thyme isn't wet.
And I forgot the dry mustard and boiled eggs!
A Zimmer man came to look at the door today. He didn't know what to do about it, but is sure that Bill Zimmer does — he retired years ago, but hangs around to answer questions.
I made devilled eggs today. A tablespoon was too much salt for eighteen eggs, but eggs are usually less salty after the filling has been in contact with the whites for a few hours.
I put in lots and lots of horseradish powder, but can't detect the slightest hint of horseradish in the eggs.
I'm planning a fourteen-mile ride tomorrow. I didn't read the garage-sale ads, hoping to arrive at the Detroit Street sprawl capable of shopping.
Lovely day for a bike ride, though in the afternoon, I got a bit warm in the clothes I needed in the morning.
I toured the farmers' markets, then went to Kohl's Plaza for cat food. I must remember to start at the west end of the cat food section the next time I go to Pet Smart; I got tired of reading the fine print on the labels before I'd toured quite all of the cat-food shelves. Just as well, as my pannier was pretty full by then even though I didn't buy more than one can of any flavor. But I had picked up some doubtful aspic at Paws 'n Claws on my way through Warsaw. (Aspic is made with gelatin, *not* carrageenan!)
Before going to Petsmart, I ate a pizza at Walmart's pretzel stand, then wandered around a bit and found a pair of sandals almost the same as the pair that I've just worn out, except that they are my size. They aren't a bit too long, and yet are wide enough. Just barely wide enough, but enough.
On the way back, I stopped at Meijer's to see whether they still have interesting white bread (Dave's gut doctor just took him off whole grains) and bought a package of ciabatta rolls, which I sliced into hamburger buns and froze, since we aren't eating at home tomorrow. I also re-filled my water bottle, which I hadn't been able to do at Walmart. All the water fountains had been switched off, which led me to suspect that the water supply was tainted, so I didn't draw water from a faucet either.
This morning Dave said that I loosened the bolts on the walker when I ran with it yesterday, but it took only a phillips screwdriver and a pair of pliers to tighten them up again.
Yesterday evening, I got out of a chair stiff and thought that I should grab the walker and trot around a little, but I needed a bit more space than there is in the house, and by the time I got my hat on and so forth, I'd already walked it off.
I went to the north end of the parking lot in the park anyway. I discovered that I can't run more than ten feet, but I did walk briskly the whole time, except when I had to wait for a pick-up to get out of my way before crossing the bridge.
I should do this again, but next time I'll stay in the street entirely. I'm sure it was the rough sidewalk that loosened the bolts. The Heritage Trail was quite smooth, at least in the part I used.
We had a fine time at Donny's yesterday, and Dave found the drive much easier than he expected. We ate enough food for a week, which didn't stop me from frying up all the remaining bacon and eating it for breakfast this morning. Dave was more restrained and just ate four rice cakes.
Turned out that the walker wobbled because a curved washer was on backward. Neither of us can figure out how a washer could flip.
We still have leftover barbecue food, including about half of a chicken brat.
Today's Dogs of C-Kennel was appropriate to my current occupation. Kenny burped, Tucker rushed to his computer, and Will said "Your blog been pretty dry lately?"
I've got 1063 lines, but lots of them are boring.
I pushed the cultivator around in the garden today, and pulled a token number of weeds. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, then be partly cloudy for the rest of the week.
I think I'll write off the money I invested in Fussie Cat, and take all the fake aspic to the animal shelter. But I'll open one can first.
The food I buy at Pet Smart doesn't last as long as the food I bought in grocery stores. Al would often leave part of an eighth of a can of supermarket food. So far, he always finishes a quarter can of the expensive stuff. I have sorted and stacked the cans so that there aren't two cans of the same brand in any pile.
When picking up the closet today, I threw my sweat pants into the laundry hamper, intending to put them away for the summer after they are washed. I hope I'm not being premature.
Wikipedia says that the buzzards on the beach are almost certainly turkey vultures. I can't see the red heads through the binoculars, but the glare of the lake washes out colors.
⁂
Two first-edition books, not in collectible condition, but binding is tight and nothing has fallen off:
_The Scarecrow of Oz_, 1915, scribbled in.
_The Magic of Oz_, 1919, not scribbled in.
I suspect that Mom's copy of _Rinkitink in Oz_ was read into oblivion. Rinkitink was the best of them, in my opinion, because Dorothy was dragged in by the heels only at the very last minute, as a deus ex machina. It's a shame that the public's thirst for "More Oz!" prevented Baum from writing non-Dorothy books. As an adult, I feel that Ozma watching the show with folded hands reflects badly on her as a ruler. (But if everything is done right, you have no story.)
_The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, L. Frank Boum, pictures by W.W. Denslow, Introduction by Martin Gardner, 1960, Dover
_Heidi_, Johana Spyri, illustrated by Alice Carsey, Translator praised but not credited. 1916, Whitman Publishing Co.
_Heidi_, Johana Spyri, translated by Helen B. Dole, illustrated by William Sharp, 1945, Grosset & Dunlap. Inscribed "To Joy Loveless/From Jennie Marj/1951/Birthday Greetings
_Mäzli, Johana Spyri, translated by Elisabeth P. Stork, 1921, A.L. Burt Company
_Flower Fables_, Louisa May Alcott, December 9, 1854, The Mershon Company
_Dearie, Dot and the Dog, Julie M. Lippman, illustrated by Margaret F. Winner, 1903, The Penn Publishing Company. Inscribed "Best wishes/to Madalene/from Marion White
_The Outdoor Girls at Bluff Point or A Wreck and a Rescue_, Laura Lee Hope, 1920 Grosset & Dunlap. Inscribed Maxine Little/from/M~~. Phi~~~~~y (or ng)/X-mas 1927
_The Bobbsey Twins, Laura Lee Hope, title page missing, Grosset & Dunlap. Inscribed: "Helen L. Jackson/Christmas/1918" other side of flyleaf: "Lillian Jackson/from/Helen"
_The Bobbsey Twins on a Bicycle Trip_, Laura Lee Hope, 1954, Grosset & Dunlap
_Boy Scouts with the Cossacks/or/A Guilty Secret_, G. Harvey Ralphson, 1916 M. A. Donohue & Co. Yellow, but in good condition.
_The Red Cross Girls Afloat with the Flag_, Margaret Vandercook, 1918 The John C. Winston Company. Inscribed Helen L. Jackon/Christmas/1919/from/Violetta Hall. The spine cover has torn off and the binding wobbles, but both covers and all pages are present.
_The Campfire Girls on Cliban Island_, Julianne Deveries, 1933 World Syndicate Publishing Co. Hand written on a three by five card, "Campfire Girls Shelf III"
_The Secret of the Lost Tunnel_, Hardy boys, Franklin W. Dixon, 1950 Grosset & Dunlap.
_Dotty Dimple at her Grandmother's_, Sophie May, "Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867/By LEE AND SHEPHERD,/In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington./ — /Copyright, 1895 by REBECCA S. CLARKE/ — /Copyright 1909 by SARAH J. CLARKE./ — /All rights reserved./DOTTY AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S". Inscribed "Mabel Myers,/Baptist Sunday School,/1916"
_Little Prudy's Sister Susie_, Sophie May, no date, Cupples & Leon Company, inscribed "Isabelle Barr"
_The Scottish Twins_, Lucy Fitch-Perkins, 1919 Houghton Mifflen Company, inscribed "Molly Walle~lei~"
_Polly of Pebbly Pit_, Lillian Roy, MCMXXII, Whitman Publishing Co.
_Ruth Fielding in the Saddle/or/College Girls in the Land of Gold_, Alice B. Emerson, 1917 Cupples & Leon Company
_The Radio Boys with the Flood Fighters/or/Saving the City in the Valley_, Allen Chapman, 1925, Grosset & Dunlap. Among the scribbling on the fly leaf I can make out "Laura from Mr. Wilson". I bought this at a garage sale, and I'm very glad that I left the rest of the series.
_Five Little Stars_, Lillian Elizabeth Roy, 1913
The Platt & Peck Co. Inscribed: "Presented
to Pauline Bailey by Jeanette Ward for the best
spelling record in Fourth Grade. 1916 -
1917."
I'd like to get this one into the
hands of a younger generation as soon as
possible. It has yellowed, and the ink of
the inscription has turned brown, but it's in
pretty good condition for a book that's over a
hundred years old.
_Five Little Peppers and How They Grew_, Margaret Sidney, 1881 D. Lothrop and Company, 1909 Harriet M. Lothrop. Inscribed: "To/Pauline Lackey Bailey/for the best spelling/grades in the class. [signed] Jeannette Ward/1915 – 1916"
_Elsie Dinsmore_, Margaret Finley, frontispiece by Helene Nyce, no date, The Saalfield Publishing Company, Akron, Ohio. Harback, with dust cover.
_Pollyanna's Jewels_, Harriet Lumis Smith, 1925, Grosset & Dunlap. Inscribed "Jayne McClain"
_Sign of the Spiral_, Fran Striker, 1947, Clover Books, McLaughlin Bros. A Tom Swift Adventure. Bookplate "Dick Krogel". Original price 49¢ sticker for 2.99 inside.
_Maida's Little Camp_, Inez Haynes Irwin, 1940, Grosset & Dunlap
_Child-Story Readers/WONDER STORIES_, Frank N. Freeman, Grace E. Storm, Eleanor M. Johnson, W.C. French, illustrated by Vera Stone Norman, Copyright 1927-29, Lyons and Carnahan. Inscribed "Presented by/Mr. Olin Bouck/Town of New Scotland" and "District/15. Rubber stamped twice: "Voorheesville Union School/Voorheesville N.Y." Inside front cover: "Discarded" and "Michele". Brittle, spine worn through at the edges but still attached. Internal pages in better condition than the flyleaves, but still require care.