Everything went south of us and I had a pleasant ride to the split farmer's market and a couple of stops on the way back. Sparse selection; I suspect that splitting the market left each half with too little traffic to make it worth a vendor's while. But I can still get tomatoes.
I didn't think of my telephone until I wanted to check the time while downtown; also forgot my starlight mints, so I missed that pocket entirely when I did my checklist. (Didn't need the mints, since the ride was neither long nor strenuous.) And when showering afterward, I forgot to take my moleskins off, then realized that I'd forgotten to put them on. I had scrubbed my feet, sat down by the drawer where I keep the moleskin — and put on my socks.
In the afternoon we went to Jonah's graduation party, and stopped to see Joe and Lois on the way back. They were tired; during the night, an obstruction in the storm drains, judging by the symptoms, caused all the water in the neighborhood to puddle in their back yard deep enough to come in through the basement door.
I think the lake is as deep as it has been this spring. I don't think that that pier was completely under during the first flood. Not going to read old notes to see; I do know that I noted several times it was awash.
The pier is visible again. I wish I'd gone to look at the overflow channel yesterday; I didn't think of it until after dark.
Yesterday I came home from church through the festival, and brought home a barbecue sandwich to share for lunch. Dave and I swapped text messages about it, starting with me replying to a message he'd sent on the previous day while I was playing with his computer — he hadn't heard me come in. I had mistaken the ring of my telephone for the landline; since it rang only once, I thought he had answered. Should have noticed that the calling number didn't appear on the monitor.
No coots so far, but I saw a family of ducks in the park yesterday, and we have geese and ducks today. Also a large group of swans far out in the lake.
Took a walk down Boys City after my nap; the pothole where the culvert empties was full, but I'm pretty sure the creek hadn't overflowed.
Pulled a few thistles. I may not get all of them before they bloom; Dave is threatening to use Round Up. There are more tiger lilies in the lily of the valley bed; I suppose they came up from bulbils, but what transported them? Tiger lily bulbils don't stick to clothes or fur. All are near the curb, which only deepens the mystery.
Saw something large and grey land near the Wildman's pier, then blend into the background. I wonder how often there have been invisible herons out there?
Dave got the papers out of the safe-deposit box; I think he's serious about selling the boat.
The Fourth is on the fifth this year. That's a Friday. Perhaps someone engaged the fireworkers for Saturday before we could? They didn't want to celebrate the Fourth of July on the twenty-ninth of June? Someone said "It's way past time to update"?
Later I noticed the heron on shore pecking at something; when he picked it up, we could see that it was a dead fish. Whether he found it or killed it we'll never know. He seemed to be having a terrible time breaking off a piece he could swallow; I suggested that he make a deal with the eagle.
Who was, luckily for the heron, nowhere around.
Someone told Dave that a bird tangled in fishline was dangling from one of our trees. Dave fetched his scissors and he and the fellow got the line off the bird, but it didn't survive. They put the corpse in a safe place in the hope that it had only passed out, but it was still there when Dave told me about it in the evening.
So yesterday afternoon we buried it in the garden.
I can see most of our beach this morning.
I got the last of the tall thistles yesterday, and the lily of the valley look much better. (Now I can start over, pulling new weeds.)
I pulled the younger tiger lilies too, because they were making bulbils, and threw them at the base of a telephone pole in the park. I picked some of the developing bulbils off the older ones, and plan to dig the plants out as soon as they are done blooming. I would miss too many if I waited for them to go dormant. When I thinned the bed where lilies belong, I made a sincere effort to remove all bulbs, knowing there would be plenty left.
About time to thin them again. And move the iris. I don't know where to move the iris to, that they would fit in and not get crowded out.
The fern bed has finally got going and looks very nice. New ferns are appearing; in a few years, we'll be putting surplus ferns out by the road, like the people we got them from.
Rain was predicted for during the night, but there is no more water in the bucket I put under the downspout than might have stuck to the walls when I emptied the dirty water into the Joe Rickets bed. Twenty percent chance of showers during the day; I'm hoping the garden will be dry enough to cultivate this evening, as it's getting pretty weedy.
The strawberry plant I put duck mulch around is big and green and very healthy — and never even considered blooming. The pekid plants along the south side are loaded.
I just realized that I don't know how to spell "peek-ed" — "peaked" means something entirely different.
So far, knock wood, there hasn't been any evidence of deer standing in the strawberry bed. I haven't heard herds setting off the driveway patrol in the night, either.
Dave continues to bring his tomato plant in every night. It's blooming nicely, and there are at least four tiny tomatoes. Not one of the faded flowers has shriveled up and fallen off.
I've gotten Yoder tomatoes twice, and we had bacon sandwiches for supper yesterday. I'd better go by Marsh and get more bacon when I go to the market again Saturday.
I think they have Tuesday and Thursday sessions too (or was that Monday and Wednesday), but for some reason there is no sign of any sort at the fairgrounds, and everything I can find on the Web is many years out of date.
Just tried again, and Facebook says that the downtown market was open yesterday at 5:00 p.m. But the fairgrounds market was, when I knew, open in the afternoon. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a lap after supper next Wednesday.
Erk, another fingertip burn. The day before yesterday I tried to take hold of my iron by the soleplate, and today I was walking past the stove and tried to pick up some of the greasy salt in the skillet before I noticed that I'd forgotten to turn the fire off. The first burns are healed already and this one doesn't appear to be any worse.
I think the asparagus is done. It adored the first flood, while it was still dormant — we got our best spears from the end that had been under water — but it looks very unhappy in the aftermath of this one, and I'm going to stop picking and let it recover. We have one mess left in the fridge, and seem to have gotten our fill of it.
There might yet be another spear from the volunteer asparagus in the garden. I've been trying to pick it to death because I don't want perennials in the garden, but it's in a corner. If it puts up another spear, perhaps I'll let it keep it.
Yesterday, Dave reported that one of his tomatoes is half an inch across.
I've no idea what got into the rosebush in the lily bed this year. Roses are sticking out of the lilies in all directions. The lilies are also developing and have tiny flower buds; should be spectacular a week or two after the fifth of July.
We went to First Friday tonight. The festival was noisy and boring, but we adored the food at the Olive Barn. Which wasn't as crowded as on our previous visit, but was still pretty busy. I had enchiladas Yolinda and Dave had chimichangas. We both overate, and Dave brought one of his chimichangas home.
Farmer's Market tour. Both markets were kind of sparse; all I bought was three tomatoes.
I came back by way of the boardwalk so that I could drop off magazines at the hospital and look around at the Pillbox and the optical shop next door. The Pillbox doesn't have as many pill boxes as Kroger does. But they have a *lot* more walkers!
I stopped at Kroger for celery etc., and found a pair of pill sticks that clip together, with compartments about the same length and width as those that the calcium capsules made too small, but considerably deeper. So I intend to retire my larger pill stick as well. I filled them up in the evening. The new sticks have eight compartments each, and my old stick is nearly full, so I nearly ran Dave out of glucosamine capsules and had to give some of them back. I ran clear out of fenofibrate, but that's nearly three weeks worth in the pill sticks, so I plan to wait until it's legal to buy levothyroxine in the hope of getting my pills synchronized.
Neither place had a wee tiny pill stick for my wee tiny levothyroxine pills. I'd like to count out two weeks at a time of those pills too.
I had just gotten up and was staggering around thinking there was something important to do today — I had something important to do *yesterday*!
When I've got one of these after-supper meetings, I should lay the clothes I plan to wear out somewhere where I'll see them all day.
Met Cora in the grocery store. I've got to get to church by seven in the morning next Sunday.
Last impressions first: after being in the hot sun all day, the preservative-soaked bridge across Cherry Creek stinks to high heaven. If it offends a numb-nose like me while speeding across it on a bicycle, it must be really bad for pedestrians with a normal sense of smell.
The National Weather Service said that today is going to be the only pleasant day this week, so I went for a long ride. Well, long enough that it made sense to wear my cleated cycling shoes.
I figured I could add a little interest to the Chinworth Bridge loop by following 300S to its end, then going north until I hit 200S, following 200S to the intersection after Parks Schram, and coming back to Parks-Schram on Crystal Lake.
It didn't quite work out that way. As I was riding west on 300S, I said "I've seen this intersection before — lots of times. And this one. And this one." It wasn't until I hit Ferguson, which is the road I'd have followed to 250S from the end of 300S, that I realized that I'd turned off Country Club a mile too soon.
So I turned south on Ferguson and went half a mile to my intended route. 250S ends on SR 25, but there wasn't much traffic on it that far out, and it was a very short distance to 200S.
Where I remembered that I'd planned to overshoot Parks-Schram, and turned east without consulting my map. Pretty soon, there I was back at Ferguson. Since I'm a Loveless, it was quite impossible that I should turn around and go back the way I came, so I decided to follow Ferguson to Crystal Lake Road.
Ferguson also ends on SR25, close to town so that there was significant traffic, and it's a good mile to Crystal Lake. But I found that I've become much better at preventing three-abreast squeezes since my first trip along this section of road, so it wasn't terrifying.
There isn't a lot one can put on paper —or electrons— about riding technique. I can say that learning to communicate with the other road users is very important, and one needs to adjust one's speed to improve one's odds of being somewhere else when two cars meet. And when someone is stuck behind you, it helps to go as fast as is reasonable to make it easier for him to stay there until it's safe to pass.
I'd had a very light breakfast, and was ravenous when I got to the CCAC, so I sat at one of their picnic tables and ate two of my emergency food bars. This was a grand pity, because it meant I couldn't buy chicken at Penguin Point. While eating, I killed my first bottle and started on the other one, but got fed up with the lid leaking pretty soon and poured its contents into the first bottle. (And just before typing the previous sentence, I got up to throw the cracked-lid bottle into the recycling bin and put my other California Springs bottle into service.
Changed from country to city shoes before settling down, since I had a place to sit. After eating, I went to the water fountain at the softball fields and filled my other bottle and topped off the first bottle, which was only half full by then, the ration bars being rather dry.
Then I walked across soccer fields or some-such, trying not to smudge the freshly-painted lines, and followed the Chinworth Trail to Zimmer. I looked south toward the end of the trail, but going down on the sidewalk and coming back on the road looked rather boring, so I turned onto Zimmer and followed it to the roundabout. Passed one of the new "Bikeway" signs on the way, but ignored it in favor of looking at the roundabout. I lived to regret that.
The roundabout is very easy; the speed limit is fifteen miles an hour, so it's easy to keep up with the traffic, and there was very little traffic at that moment.
But thanks to the lane work, one has to *continue* keeping up with traffic after leaving the roundabout. Luckily, the barrels on the shoulder were far enough apart that I could pull off and let traffic by now and again, and I never piled up more than two cars. And I think those two were together before they overtook me.
Then a stop at the Dollar Store to buy more calcium capsules, and since I couldn't have a lunch basket of chicken, I decided to order a drink. It was really hot by then and I was getting behind on my water consumption. But all the beverages were either boring or revolting —I always settle for water with my lunch— so I ordered a small strawberry shake.
Now a milkshake as a recovery drink after a long ride is all fine and dandy, but drinking one in the middle of a ride is Not Very Bright. And it wasn't all that great a shake, or I've lost my taste for them. Four ounces would have been worlds aplenty of such thick, sticky stuff.
I gave the nursery a pass, but bought a copy of _The Gnostic Gospels_ at the thrift shop.
There were signs of progress at Avila's. The front parking lot is clean, the yellow tapes are down, and someone appears to have been breaking off charred chunks of roof and throwing them down at the tobacco-shop end. When I saw that the tapes were down, I thought I'd ride around the building, but there was so much broken glass that I got off and walked.
I had thought that I'd look over La Pasadita to see whether they have the things I had been buying from Avila, but I didn't want to go to Winona Avenue and back again, so I went straight to the Beyer Trail by way of Fort Wayne, dropped some old QSTs off at the emergency room, then got milk, eggs, cottage cheese, and ten pita-pocket breakfast sandwiches at Owen's.
No nap today; by the time I got home, unpacked, rinsed sweat out of the clothes I'd been wearing, showered, and got the tangles out of my wet hair, there was only twenty minutes before time to prepare supper.
Which was chicken-flavor ramen noodle with asparagus (We got one more huge spear), sweet pepper, a tablespoon of frozen peas, and boneless ham.
And now I'm really sleepy.
Asterisms separate e-mails
Google maps says that my bike trip was 25.8 miles, so I guess I'm up to a trip to Leesburg. It was quite a struggle to get all those false turns onto the map, not to mention that I didn't think to include the hospital as a destination, so it took half a dozen waypoints to persuade the route to take the boardwalk.
It said twenty-six miles until I noticed that the destination "Roy Street" was a tenth of a mile off. On the other hand, I didn't try to make it show that I'd gone into the CCAC and out again.
Ah! The progress bar just shifted from half-past Thunderbird to between the Thunderbird icon and the Firefox icon. Spybot *is* botchecking, but I don't think I'll get to use Joy98 any time today. That means nothing but Web: no e-mail, no Usenet, and no writing Banner or updating websites. So I'm writing e-mail on JoyXP and sending it to myself. This morning I looked at Comcast's webmail and didn't see anything urgent, though it's hard to be sure because webmail isn't sorted. I'd better look again this evening and at bedtime.
Didn't get much sewing done in the morning for wrestling with the computer; got a little done between naptime and suppertime, and I'm making some progress this evening.
This morning I didn't remember that I intended to have chocolate rice for breakfast until after I had heated sausage and put an English muffin in the toaster. So tonight I put chocolate, raisins, and cinnamon on the counter beside the stove.
And that should use up most of the rice-and-quinona mix. Then I can make some with salt in.
Yesterday we defragged and search-and-destroyed this computer from before breakfast until 04:00 today. I e-mailed some updates from the other computer, but I have an IQ slightly above hamster right now and won't edit them in.
Today, I rode to Leesburg, where I found that the Maple Leaf company store is the only tourist attraction, and most of the streets are brick. No reason to ride there again before the weather allows me to carry frozen meat on a bike.
I took along a caffeine drop to take instead of a nap, and it tasted *terrible*; it might as well have been sugar-free candy. Nary a speck of artificial sweetener in it; all fructose and glucose and stuff like that; it should be an Underdog Super Energy Pill. So when I stopped at Owen's West for water and a pit stop, I bought a bottle of "tea" that turned out to be tea-colored sugar water.
I was dehydrated by then — I left at eleven, it was five or six, and I'd not emptied my second bottle until shortly before reaching Owens West. I'd topped off the first bottle a couple of times, and drank at each fountain where I re-filled it, but I don't think I can stretch that to say I'd had three bottles, and in this kind of weather I should have had at least one per hour.
So I walked around town until the twenty-ounce bottle of "tea" was empty. Then I was in the habit, so I kept walking until I'd crossed Hickory Street. Whence I rode only as far as the indoor flea market currently called The Trading Post. Just as I was leaving there, Dave texted to ask where I was; a few messages later I was headed for Mad Anthony's where we ate so much that I had to come home with Dave. He'd brought the truck, expecting that that would happen.
But I got a big glass of real tea before my tenderloin was served.
Husky Trail used to be one of my favorite roads, but now it's at least as bad as Old Thirty. Traffic is many times heavier than it was, and it isn't an inch wider. (County just budgeted a million dollars to refurbish forty miles of county roads; Husky Trail might be one of them.)
Luckily, I hadn't gotten onto it until after looking over the new Meier store (no different from Walmart), and pretty soon I saw Levi Lee road and remembered that it intersects Old Fifteen, which goes right downtown in Leesburg. The pavement, though bad, remembers that it was once a state road (back when state roads were a lot narrower than they are now), and traffic was light enough that I seldom met cars going both ways at once.
The short stretch of 30 I'd used to get from Meier to 200N was so pleasant that I thought I'd try 15 for part of the trip back. 15 out there does have a very wide shoulder, but it's coarse, loose gravel except for patches of deep sand, so I turned off on 600N and followed it to Fox Farm. Which took me past Avilla's; I didn't notice any change while cutting through their parking lot to West street.
Google maps says the trip was about twenty-two miles. I did not plot it very carefully.
Breakfast at the church today. Breakfasting a nibble here and a nibble there, I ate way too much. I think I slept through the service.
Didn't help that I'd gotten up three hours early and wanted my nap three hours early. Stayed up until the regular time, then slept late.
For supper, more "Better Than Bacon" — bacon-cured pork shoulder. It's certainly easier to make tomato sandwiches out of than bacon, just one slice per person. Taste is somewhere between bacon and ham. I'm planning to buy a couple more packages next Saturday. But buying frozen food will mean coming straight home. Annoying; yesterday I intended to come straight home anyway, and I wanted to thaw the meat to eat that night, so I could have ridden all over town. (If I hadn't done a quarter century on the day before.)
I french-fried it in bacon grease over a low fire, then poured the grease back into the petty pan before attempting to take the meat out of the skillet. I have a skillet the same diameter as the slices and frying four deep wasn't any problem. But two slices per person was too much when served on bread. I'd served it on bagels Saturday, and one slice wasn't enough.
I don't think I mentioned that on Tuesday I backtracked to look at the new trailhead on McKinley. It's plain flat dirt exactly like what they had before they tore out the interurban tracks, except that now there isn't any grass on it. I wonder why the tracks, which were buried so deep that I thought that they had already been torn out, had to go? There surely wasn't enough scrap value in them to make it worth all that trouble. What sort of foundation work is needed in a picnic area?
I wish I thought that they were spending so much money on the trailhead that there won't be any money left to spoil Market Street with.
Sunny day predicted for tomorrow, so I've put in a load of dishtowels, pillowcases, and cleaning rags to soak overnight. In real soap; I'm going to have to run out to Aldi tomorrow and buy detergent for the warm-water loads.
Didn't; had just barely enough Tandil left to finish the job. Planning a major shopping tour for the morning.
But I didn't get detergent — just one carton of each flavor of seltzer (two of the plain), milk, frozen hamburger, and levothyroxine. The bag of hamburger broke and spilled patties all over the bagging area, and the bagger had to go fetch another one. I wanted to ask what became of the rejected meat; I hope the help is allowed to take it home. After all, one intends to sterilize it anyway.
On my ride to Mad Anthony's by way of Leesburg, I acquired brown rectangles on the backs of my hands, and reflected that I needed to start carrying sunscreen with me to use after I wash my hands. While wheeling my cart away from the prescription counter today, I realized that I was thirsty, circled back to the drinking fountain, and passed a prominent display of Neutrogena "Wet Skin Kids", an extra-wide 70 SPF lipstick for touching up children in the swimming pool. This fits my pocket nicely, so I bought it even though I thought $6.59 a tad much for thirteen grams of sunscreen.
I hope they haven't added the stench that seems to be mandatory in baby products.
My back right pocket is getting crowded. It already contained a knife, magnifying glasses, lipstick, and a keychain with so much stuff on it that I carry it in a baggie.
At least I no longer carry Halt; the culture here frowns on neglecting your dog, so I haven't needed to fend off bored pets.
I was appalled by the grease stain when I took my cotton jersey off the line Monday, but it seemed much less conspicuous when I put the jersey on just now.
It's a lovely day for a long ride, but I have nowhere to go, and we need bread and detergent, so I'm taking the Aldi loop. Might go backward and take a few extra turns. Means crossing SR30 twice, but that isn't a really big deal. And I think that the rumble strips will be less obtrusive in that direction.
Oops, I forgot to put sunscreen on before putting on my jersey. But I haven't filled the pockets yet, so I can just peel it off again.
Got the bread, but no detergent. They had re-arranged the store, and when I finally found the detergent, it was all "mountain scent"; there was Tide Free: no perfumes, but it contains enzymes. I machine-wash all my silk and wool, so I don't want any enzymes in my washer. Particularly when you consider that an enzyme is a catalyst, so if there is even one molecule of it left, it keeps on working. I should have turned around and taken the perfumed soap; after all stench will fade away if you leave the clothes on the line for a while, but by then I was almost annoyed enough to put the cheddar cheese and the chips back on the shelf.
Then when I fetched the detergent bottle out of the recycling bin, I saw that I've been using "mountain scent" all along; they took the "fresh" more seriously than the "scent".
Everything but the sycamore came down today, and it's wrapped in ropes. It's going to take the full crew to take down something that big that close to the house, and the girls had to make hay today for fear of rain.
They were all day taking down the ash tree the clothes line had been tied to —Dave said he thought there were five pounds of ants in it— but I blinked and missed the felling of the ash out front.
Pretty soon there will be no more stopping at Goodwill on my way to Aldi. The paper says that they are going to move out to Anchorage Road where there is more room.
Snivel. They could have run all those empty stores in the Big R plaza together; that would have been even more convenient for me than their current location. Doesn't anybody know that I'm the queen of the universe?
Another article says that Meijer is going to sell five lots, two of them to Staples and Panda Express, so it might be worth making the occasional special trip.
Dressing for today's medical appointment, I chose my underwear carefully. But I'm going to have spectacles fitted!
Considered stopping at the optician on my way home, but an eye exam is a fairly intensive series of decisions and I didn't feel like choosing frames.
I did stop at Owen's for milk and cheese.
I didn't wake up from my nap until it was so late that I didn't roll out until five. Was nearly ready to go before I was all the way awake.
Went out by way of Wooster Road, and saw Joe playing tennis with a racquet in one hand and a cane in the other. He appears to be getting better!
I was pleased to discover that the Pierceton Farmer's Market wasn't worth the trip. One on Friday evening and one on Saturday morning is poor scheduling. The nearest they had to lunch food was gluten-free granola bars. I bought a package of two raisin scones instead, and Dave and I each ate one with cream cheese after ten tonight.
I was feeling a little tired when I left the market, so I came back by US 30. Noisy, but otherwise marvelous: I had a full-width lane all to myself, I had the right-of-way at every intersection, the pavement was excellent, and the tops of the hills had been knocked off: I did the whole length in my big ring, and did one climb on my next-to-the-smallest cog. I think I coasted more than half the way, and recall only two rises where I had to shift down — one of them only to the second cog, as I already mentioned.
I don't know how obtrusive the rumble strips were; when I got to the place where there were a lot of right-turn lanes, I turned onto the service road to take a closer look at the businesses. Made a brief stop at Tractor Supply, because they were open and because my helmet strap had been pinching my ear onto my temple piece. The service road ended there, and I really should have shifted to the smaller ring to climb back up to 30, but it was a very short climb.
At some point I realized that I'd be passing close to Aldi, so I overshot 250E and bought two bottles of Tandil. Traffic got thick just when I wanted to merge over to the left-turn lane, so I turned into DePuy and crossed with the light.
Forgot that I need cleated shoes for the Pierceton trip. Might be why I was so exhausted after returning, but sprinting the full width of Winona Lake probably had more to do with it. As I was riding from Aldi to 250E, the wind rose in a very familiar way that made me try to remember which porch I'd taken shelter on during the big storm, but I was nearly in the village before it began to spatter rain in a way that said "my big brother isn't far away" — but the main body was to the south, rather than the west, and it was over soon after I got home.
So I got under the wide eave that Dave's father specified for the house, pressed the button that opens the garage door, and did a triple take. Probably took me ten minutes to figure out that it was a stump grinder.
We had two ash trees, one dead birch, and a double-trunked maple taken down yesterday. Today Beaver Dam came back for the huge sycamore that was too close to the house, but didn't have time to grind all the stumps, so they left a piece of equipment behind.
They have earned every penny of the large check we will write tomorrow. Dave said he got exhausted watching them. I'd better check that he hasn't fallen asleep in his chair.
I'm starting to feel fairly frisky now that it's almost bedtime. Maybe it was the raisin scone.
I don't at all like the red-orange icon that the National Weather service is using for tomorrow and Wednesday. I guess I'd better wear the A-line cotton dress with the very loose sleeves.
But Monday should be a good day to hang out wash.
Stump grinding today. I told Dave to tell them to dump the chips on my compost pile — should be excellent topsoil in two years.
I bought tomatoes at the Farmer's market, then went Field-Day hunting before going back to buy two packages of thin-sliced bacon-cured pork shoulder for the freezer — just in time to see the last package of it sold. I hope that was the last package in the cooler, rather than the last package in stock.
I looked all over the fairgrounds without seeing any sign of Field Day, but the fair office was open and she pointed me to their hiding place. It would appear that recruiting new hams isn't one of the purposes of Field Day around here. I did get some data that should allow me to pay dues.
But I've probably forgotten everything I learned in Em Com class. Except that one should never talk directly into a microphone because all the fellow on the other end will hear is your plosive consonants. Which is why a cell phone held to your ear picks up your voice just fine.
Before showering after my ride, I walked to a garage sale in Grace Lane and bought a book of Burns poetry and a copy of "The Radio Boys and the Flood Fighters". I was tempted to take all the old books. There must have been a dozen Curwoods, but the corner they were in was so dark that I couldn't read the titles.
I read the first page or two of "The Radio Boys"; they sure didn't believe in subtle incluing back then.
Summary of the previous episode, disguised as a conversation over sandwiches, was that the boys had gone on a cruise and gained some valuable experience when the entire radio staff of the ship came down with food poisoning just when there was a dire need for radio communication. I have a feeling that this is not going to be anywhere in the same league with "Today I Am a Ham".
I wonder what today's equivalent of radio boys is? Hackers are already obsolete.
I refrained from washing clothes yesterday because I needed to go to Optical One — and then fooled around until the clothes would have been on the line before starting; I really, really, hate shopping for things that don't exist.
But much to my surprise, the fellow said that my old frames are in excellent condition and there's no reason not to mount new lenses in them. And then he checked my records and discovered that they still stock that style, so I don't have to do without for a day while they take it to "our north store" to be measured; they already have templates for cutting the lenses.
And they are going to call sometime today; promised by four.
I wanted to wear sandals today so that I wouldn't have to scrub my feet when called, but every sock that isn't either thick or knee hose is in the washing machine. (Except for the white pair, which is on the drying rack in the garage.) I'll wear one or the other to pick up the glasses, but not all day!
Then the first load came out of the washer, I put the next load in, put on sunscreen and a hat and the clothespin bag, picked up the basket of wet laundry, went out to gather up the basket stand (which got blown around a bit in yesterday's storm) — oops! We hadn't yet put the clothesline back up.
Dave was out for a walk. I didn't have much trouble finding the nut driver and the clamps, but never did locate the library stool. (Later we both went looking and found that it was in the garage after all: I'd looked all over the floor, but it is in the garden cart under a pile of corrugated cardboard.)
So I used the kitchen stool, which sank into the rain-soaked lawn, but didn't lose any more leg tips or gain clods of dirt.
By the time I got the clothesline up, the storm barrelling down US 30 was an hour away, so I hung up the sheet and my white hat (which I *finally* remembered to wash!) and put everything else on a rack under the wide eave in front of the garage.
Oops! I forgot to tell Dr. Hickman that I computer a lot. Street signs, yes, reading yes, computer — lean forward or back way off and tip my head down.
It's a pity that there's a law against selling concave glasses without a prescription. The same trick I use for threading needles would work just fine.
I'd have ended up scrubbing my feet anyway yesterday — since I'd be coming back in glasses that I was not accustomed to, I felt that it would be much safer to ride my bike, and that meant wearing shoes, rather than sandals, and that means putting on moleskin, and that requires me to clean the site with plastic pumice. Luckily, my white socks, which were in the first load, were dry when Optical One called.
I have only two pairs of black socks that fit into shoes, and one sock fell onto the floor and didn't get washed, so I put it into a bucket of soapy water — I didn't think I could get to next Monday on one pair of socks! — then forgot about it until this morning, when I set the bucket under the place where there isn't a downspout (the downspout having been attached to a post that Dave is repairing) and rinsed it thoroughly in rain water. *Clean* rainwater; that downspout drains the eavestrough that we cleaned out. One of the boys who works for Beaver Dam is going to drop in the next time he has a job in this neighborhood and clean the other two eavestroughs. I sure hope we are in; he probably won't do it if there is no-one around to pay him.
I need to weed a square yard of the lily-of-the-valley bed every day — but not today. I'm going to sit here at the computer with a paper plate of cherries by my side.
Another big chunk blew off the willow last night. We are debating whether to hire Beaver Dam to clean it up, cut it up ourselves, or hope the park maintenance guys take care of it. Since there are ducks swimming around and through the mess, we'll ignore the situation until we have a spell of dry weather.
I finished attaching pockets to my new jeans today, so I'll start sewing them together at my next session. High time I measured my waist and designed a new waistband.
I think that I've already learned how to read the monitor with my new glasses.
I have a fresh set of back-ups on XP. I set Explorer to copying my web sites, said "yes to all", and went back to sewing. When I was ready for a break from sewing, Explorer was saying "may I copy a read-only file?"; I said "yes to all" — and when I came back again, it was again waiting for permission to copy a read-only file.
I see why people use special programs for making back-up copies.
Spent the morning making patches for my cycling knickers. Have one pinned on and should get both legs repaired after my nap. Then it's back to making black bluejeans. I'm ready to begin the construction seams, but haven't yet measured myself and designed a new waistband.
I was planning to shop instead of washing tomorrow, but I haven't any clean socks.
[I fished socks out of the laundry and went.]
Preparations for the fireworks on the fifth are underway.