October's excursions begin on a bright note: I rode the flatfoot to the bank to deposit the annual payment on the farm, which had come priority mail in the afternoon.
While searching a dresser drawer this morning, Dave found an old photograph:
I have a three-loop ride planned for the day after tomorrow: to the fairgrounds market and the ice rink, drop off greens at home and go downtown for Jody's cookies at the courthouse and a pork-chop dinner at the Legion hall, home to eat the pork chops, back to the fairgrounds for a craft fair that ends at three.
Weather Underground says that it's going to rain.
There's a Fed Ex truck a-parkin' in the road, but I don't think that it's for me.
I'd been watching a lecture on prehistoric Egypt over Dave's shoulder just before opening the e-edition of the Times Union, so the headline "Kosciusko County Jail Inmates Begin Using Tablets" had an unexpected meaning for me.
It helped the confusion that I was using a landscape monitor, so the headline was all that I could see.
Lovely day today, but the lawn mower didn't show.
He did come on Tuesday. He forgot to bring his bill, so we'll get that next week.
I did garden work barefoot today. I re-thought the wisdom of that when I was walking under the oak tree.
Which I did a few times while cleaning out the lily bed. I pulled the loose stalks and carried a load or two to the compost heap, then I came back for the loppers and got the remaining stalks and rather a lot of young trees. There are still some stumps that need to be sawed.
I pulled up a poison ivy vine, which I'd mistaken for fivey ivy. I washed my hands thoroughly, first in plain water, then three times in real soap, but I don't think it will prove to be enough. When my hands felt dry after the scrubbing, I coated them with calendula cream, which might also help.
Except for underwear and socks, there was no leaving-the-house clothing in today's wash. I'm going to have to get out and about more. I did remember to wash my pillow case. And Dave's too; he forgot it when he washed yesterday.
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Asked Dave where we keep the wire saw; he thinks his mini chain saw will do the job — once it's been charged.
Having inspected the situation, Dave thinks that the proper tool for removing at least one of the stumps is a spading fork.
Yesterday's ride was rained out, but I didn't do anything else either.
When I got a portrait monitor for browsing the Web, and a switch between that and the landscape monitor, I was tickled pink, but it hasn't seen as much use as expected because it's such a pain to move my keyboad and mouse. I've also been inhibited from using DOSBOX when the keyboard is in front of the vertical monitor.
Today the dime dropped, and I moved the landscape monitor to where the Linux monitor had been, moved the portrait monitor to where the landscape had been, and put Linux where the portrait had been. Now the XP monitors are side-by-side and I don't have to move the keyboard.
I have to stretch to reach the mouse, but that's all to the good, because it keeps me from resting my hand on the mouse.
I still look where the Linux computer used to be when I want to know what time it is.
I had to unplug two cables to untie knots, and the cables are still in a dreadful mess. I stopped untangling when every cable could reach.
Dave and I went out for lunch on Monday. Since it had been a long time since we went out, I wore my better jeans, my best shirt, and my dancing boots.
Later I went to the Capezio Web site to find out what dancing boots cost these days. The last time I shopped at the theatrical-supply store in Stuyvesant Plaza, Capezio had begun to lower the quality and raise the price of their shoes.
I couldn't find out because Capezio uses the standard fitzall catalog software; if you don't have the stock number, you are out of luck. I didn't see any high shoes among the random hits, but I did see lace-up shoes that were neither of the two that turn up when you search for lace-up shoes. (Most of the hits on that search were socks.)
I did learn that cheap pointe shoes start at two hundred dollars a pair, and a professional ballerina can wear out a pair in one performance.
Also learned some disgusting details of how a dancer manages to stand on the tip of her big toe.
Male dancers don't do it.
I had some urgent chores to do on Monday. Getting dressed up was one, and I had a couple of checks to write before the mail went. In the afternoon I took care of something that I have forgotten.
All the day I was niggled that there was something to do before the day was out, and couldn't think what.
At one-fifteen ante meridian, when I got up to take a pill that wasn't in my pill stick, I remembered. Luckily, levothyroxin is distinctive enough to fetch one out of the bottle in the middle of the night. I re-filled the levothyroxin stick the next morning, but still have the supplements stick to do. There are two days left on the other stick. (Switching to two sticks so that one would always be ready to grab and go was the only homework I did for the emergency-communications course I took a few years back. I was shocked when I passed and got a certificate.)
I had two weird dreams in the same night, weird enough that I got up and took notes:
3:59 AM 10/20/2023
sandwich, drop-shaped loaf of bread, tomato that vanished, grand bike ride cancelled for cold weather at sixty F. (I guess a real-life ride might if they had no shirts.)
No date on the second dream. I suspect that I noted both at the same time:
Aunt Eve's house with long string of barns and shops.
Expansion: We (I've no idea what "we") had found an enlargement of a very old photograph of a long string of connected farm buildings. Upon panning to the left, we found that these were attached to Aunt Eva and Uncle Ernie's house, replacing the cave. The house was a little vague because I no longer remember what it looked like. We were certain that this was the original configuration, done so that one didn't have to go outside in cold weather. In real life, that would have been quite insane — you don't even put farm buildings close together, let alone connected. And they were all easily-ignited weathered wood, but I didn't think of it that way when looking at the photograph.
Several years ago, I learned that the then-current owners had leased Aunt Eva's house to some government entity that allowed the tenants to destroy it. Or something of the sort. A great pity, because it was a really cool old house. I particularly liked the retracting staircase — or was that Uncle Mur's house? No, I remember Rich opening it, and letting us read the funny books under his bed.
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Most of today's all-day ride was rained out. I took notes after my nap:
3:10 PM 10/21/2023
At three o'clock, I woke up to a glorious bright day. The events I wanted to go to were over at two.
I did make it to the fairground and back, and got enough chard for a week.
I got rained on on the last leg of the homeward trip, but I'd foreseen that and had a windbreaker on. The windbreaker wasn't enough protection that I was willing to stop at the ice-rink market. I never see anything I want there anyhow.
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I'm cleaning up a lot of notes tonight. Our internet connection is down. Dave finally got Brightspeed's Web site on his cell phone and learned that they expect to get it repaired early tomorrow.
Not yesterday morning, and not this morning.
The latest prediction is six this evening, which is an improvement over yesterday's ten this evening, and a disimprovement over this morning's "already fixed".
Pity I couldn't check the weather prediction before putting a sheet in the washer. It looks like a bright and sunny day, and at the moment there is hardly any wind.
I got a bit of sewing done while clearing off the ironing board so that I could iron the hems of the sheet. The accordion pleats appear to be permanent.
And now there are jobs on the ironing board again.
I was surprised, Monday night, that I caught up on three days of funnies before time to shut down and brush my teeth.
This morning I took a bag of wooden coat hangers and other stuff to our Father's house only to find that it had closed permanently. The clerk at Our Father's Closet told me that Sacred Heart had taken over OFH's duties, so I may be able to dump stuff there.
I found a Sacred Heart bulletin on the Web, and it mentioned Our Father's house, but did not mention donations or a thrift shop.
When I put my clothes in the washer, I missed two pairs of socks.
I'm soaking some fabric that I mean to cut when my new jersey gets shabby. Much less boring than the sewing I'm supposed to be doing. Don't know where to put it when it's washed: if I put it back on the roll, it will get a crease down the center.
I guess I'll fold it and put it on a shelf.
There are lots of places to go next Saturday, if the weather is fit. I'm making a list.
The fabric is on the top shelf in the sewing-room closet.
When I had measured it and begun folding it up, Dave said that he'd talked to Dr. Bolduin and Dr. Bolduin had told him to get to Goshen by one or go to the emergency room. Much to my surprise, I was able to take up where I'd left off when we got back.
Turned out his catheter was clogged with clear crystals. So he has a new catheter and orders to drink lots of water.
I ate a frozen sprig of parsley this morning. I won't be picking fresh herbs much longer.
We must remember to get the hoses off the frostproof faucets before we get a hard freeze.
The last farmers markets were Saturday. I bought apples, pears, kale, and two bags of cookies, then went to Lowery's for embroidery floss and to a craft fair at Lakeview School, where I bought two pulled-pork sandwiches to go.
After lunch and a nap, I went to Trick-or-Treat on the Trails, then the full length of both branches of the recreationway on the other side of King's Highway. Got back about four.
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Dave just got back from Alick's with a gadget that is supposed to make up for the modern mattress having a waterfall edge that you can't grab when trying to get out of bed. /p>
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It was a struggle to get it mounted on the bed, but Dave says that it works great.