L---P----1----+----2----+----3----+@10-4----T----5----R----r----r----7--T-+--r E:\LETTERS\AugBan09.txt This file is posted at http://davebeeson.home.comcast.net/LETTERS/AUGBAN09.TXT 4 August 2009 I'd better check the ingredients -- a left-over half-glass of milk that was a tad less cold than usual had a faint but distinct taste of powdered milk. 7 August 2009 Nothing but lowfat milk and two vitamins -- must be over-enthusiastic pasteurising. I've relaxed but not slept four afternoons in a row -- perhaps I'm sleeping better at night? Two long bike rides this week. I rode around Pike Lake on Monday just because I hadn't been out for a while, and noticed that the mallows in the marsh on Arthur Street were in bloom, which made me think that this week would be a good time to see Parks-Schramm Road. (Jumping ahead, I couldn't find any mallows along that route -- past the season, died out since I was last there, other?) So I checked the weather and decided that Thursday would be a good day to ride around the south end of Winona Lake to Crystal Lake Road, Parks-Schramm, lunch at Chinworth, come back by the Greenway. Then Wednesday night, Dave announced that he'd made an appointment to have the Buick detailed Thursday morning. It looks beautiful, by the way, except for the ragged old steering wheel. But now it isn't a ragged old *dirty* steering wheel. I was consternated for a moment, then realized that I could throw the bike into the truck and follow my original route backward. So I picked him up at the Toyota dealership and we had breakfast at the brand-spanking new Red Apple Pancake House -- neither of us ordered pancakes. Then I bipped into the ladies' room to change into jersey and knickers, and we went our separate ways. I went first to Walmart, where I filled my water bottles and bought Prilosec and a watch. Yes, gang, I've finally found a watch I can clip onto my key chain! I had to buy a charm bracelet to get it. The bracelet chain is about the right length for a tether, but at least twice the maximum acceptable diameter, so it's going to the Goodwill, if I go again before I think of a use for the five tiny snap-gate hooks. (Google says that that particular variety of snap-gate hook is called "lobster claw clasp".) Then west on 300N, which I hoped to follow to 350W, which ends at Chinworth Bridge. (It used to cross the bridge, which is now a trailhead.) But at the intersection with 200W, 300N changed into a gravel road that began with the most spectacular washboard I've ever seen -- washboard usually makes a road rough, this patch made hills to climb. Then the surface flattened to a sparse layer of gravel on hard-packed dirt, almost as bad as small round stones on pavement, and I could see that it wasn't going to get any better, so I turned back and crossed SR30 on 200W, then had a dilly of a time recognizing 200N, because a shortcut had been built and a section of 200N abandoned since my map was drawn. Or rather, since the data was gathered; the changes were a *lot* older than 2001, the copyright date on the map. Then I made a side trip back to SR30 on Foxfarm because I got confused about directions on the angling roads: an intersection sign had been rotated about an eighth of a turn, and I guessed wrong as to which way. Further delay when I found a flea market labeled "Huge Garage Sale" at the intersection of 350W and Old 30. Saw a lovely little iron skillet for only two dollars, but I already have a pair about that size. So now I'm regretting "Maybe it was just a little bit smaller than the two I have . . . " Also found a Vera Bradley bag about the right size for my knitting, and bought it for two dollars. Since it is black,I didn't notice how filthy it was until after I got home. It stank! But it turned out to be machine washable, and didn't fade -- though I got black lint all over the washing machine. The stiffener in the bottom is tablet-back cardboard, but it was in an open-ended bag like a pillow case -- and the cardboard doesn't seem to have soaked up any of the stuff that was spilled in the purse. Then I made a side trip to the City-County Athletic Complex, where I found the ladies' room unlocked, and afterward found someone to ask where the drinking fountain was. He remembered, after saying there wasn't any, that there was a "little one" on the end of the dugouts in the baseball field. Turned out, very conveniently, that it was one of the kind mounted on a faucet, so I used the faucet to fill my bottle. I didn't taste it until I got back to Chinworth Bridge, which was a mistake: unwilling to make a big puddle on the hard ground, and trusting too much in evidence that the faucet had been used recently, I had let only a couple of quarts run onto the ground, and the water was horrible; I spat it out. Luckily, the other bottle was still holding out when I got to Owen's West, which has a drinking fountain close to the entrance. 8 August 2009 From Chinworth to Parks-Schramm for a ride along the Tippecanoe, thence by Crystal Lake Road to the health-food store for cranberries and pine nuts, and home. Argonne Road is still torn up, so the powers that be have decided that this would be a splendid time to close 250E for a while. But they are slacking: as far as I know, Market street is the only east-west road that's torn up right now. Center is a mess where the work on Argonne lops over onto it, but Market ends before it could be any use for that, and the break in Market is on the other side of town. The construction on Market seems to be moving west, and is only a block or so long. The sidewalks aren't involved, so it was easy to walk around it. I am not looking forward to the construction of the roundabout at the intersection of Winona, Park, Argonne, King's Highway, and the railroad. But it will be a big improvement when it's finished; there's only one car length between the tunnel under the railroad and the intersection, which makes for a nearly-useless right-turn lane, which means that traffic on Argonne often backs up past Durbin. This is one of the reasons we tell you to use 250E if you are coming from the east. Dave and I have a dinner date for tonight. We were reminded that we like Bogie's by a billboard on Argonne, which made me realize that the billboards flanking the underpass will become much less valuable after the roundabout goes in -- line-ups will be shorter, and the people waiting will be watching the roads instead of reading the billboards. I wonder what other side effects will happen. 11 August 2009 Just sent a test message to Sherry -- it still "exceeds a temporary size limit". We enjoyed our trip to Bogie's (the restaurant at Rozella Ford Golf Club) very much. Dave had steak and I had pork chops. One chop would have been more than ample, but I ate both of them. Laundry yesterday. Another of my new white bras came out of the first load with pink stains, which prompted both of us to Google "water causes pink stains". I didn't find much about laundry, but learned that pink stains on wet surfaces are usually a bacterial film -- which explains how bleach can take the "rust" right out. Dave has better Google-fu, and learned that the bacteria in question often inhabit un- used bleach dispensers. So I think that if I always wash the bleach load first, and put the bleach in through the dispenser, I should have much less trouble with pink stains. I made the second load tablecloths and towels, and then dared to wash my white linen blouse with rayon embroidery, and it came out still white. Needs ironing, and there's a bunch of other work piled up on the board. I should quit fiddling around with the computer. The bleach load included one of Dave's yellow NSVFD shirts, because the other one had survived bleaching after he splashed wood stain on it. The old stains didn't come out, but they changed from brown to gray. The shirts are wearing out. Surprising that it took them this long. 12 August 2009 Dave is planning to go back to New York next Monday. He has a reservation for a hotel along the way -- we used to be more adventurous. I put too much cinnamon in my breakfast mush. I have a batch of "Rye'n'injun" in the crock pot. It's buttermilk corn bread with rye flour instead of wheat, and rather a lot of molasses. The recipe said to bake it two hours at 200F, but the Usenet post that sent me Googling for it said it was bread to be baked in a crock pot. Didn't say what setting; because of the very low baking temperature, I'm trying "keep warm". Tonight is the first night of Banner Making. I must re-stock my "magic bag". Having established that the huge bulbs of garlic I bought at the farmer's market are a sort of vidalia garlic, I had slices of the one bulb that I've peeled on my sandwich. I didn't notice any garlic taste, but I smell it on my breath. I'm planning to plant the other two -- pretty soon now, as it is almost time to pull the onions. Yesterday's goose drowner was ill-timed from an onion point of view. 13 August 2009 When I woke up this morning, I was dreaming that I was combing my hair with the wooden comb I carry in my wallet. What a waste of good dream time! Went to Owen's this morning; forgot that Dave is going to be out of town and bought two gallons of milk. Also forgot to buy something for supper tonight. Michelina entrees were a dollar each, so I stocked up. Which disarranged my system in the freezer. Most of the entrees are variants on macaroni & cheese. I have sewing deadlines: I have to cut and hem the banners before next Wednesday, I have to hem up Dave's new pants before he packs for a trip that starts Monday. Maybe that will get me moving on the clothes I'm making for myself. One of the banners is a lovely soft cream-colored damask, to which we plan to applique' a black butler. It's rather ravelly, so I intend to zig-zag it before I cut it. I think I'll wait until Monday to measure and cut the blue fabric, so I can open the eating table into a cutting table and leave it that way. "Keep warm" baked my rye'n'injun nicely, but I think I left it in too long. I also think that a tad more milk and would improve it, and I suspect that the "molasses" called for was something weaker than blackstrap. 16 August 2009 Dave is all packed and ready to leave for New York in the morning. This is my chance to turn off the air conditioner and open the windows -- but the prediction is for hot weather all week. Only a couple of dishtowels in the laundry basket, so tomorrow would be a good day to go for a long ride. But I have nowhere to go -- and they are also predicting thundershowers all week. But if it's hot, getting rained on wouldn't be a particular problem. Saturday I undressed into the washing machine after coming home soaked in sweat, and threw in everything I could find; today I washed a pair of shorts Dave wanted to take with him and threw in everything I could find -- hence the empty laundry hamper. I washed my jersey and knickers without running a bleach load first, and got away with it. Even took out the pink stains my scarf had picked up from my helmet pads. Dave washed the helmet pads in dishwater, which we hope has taken out the bacteria. So today I was cautious and poured a little bleach into the bleach dispenser after loading the washer -- just a little, because I wasn't sure how Dave's shorts would take to bleach. So my muslin drawers came out with a spectacular array of pink splotches. Nothing else was damaged, and the pink splotches faded to tan when I dried the clothes in the sun. Since nobody sees them, it won't matter if I don't get them bleached before the next time I need to wear them, and bleach can only improve drawers made of very cheap muslin. Missed my nap Saturday. I meant to ride to Marsh to buy salmon cups after stopping at the Farmer's market, but I bought four jugs of maple syrup, a half dozen ears of corn, a quart of fingerling potatoes, and a quart of little tomatoes. That left plenty of room for salmon cups -- single-serve cans of salmon -- but I didn't want to jostle those tomatoes any more than I had to, so I went home first, and put the stuff away, and ate breakfast, and fooled around a bit, so it was pretty late in the morning when I started back to Marsh. And I'd already been down Winona Avenue and Smith Street, so I zig-zagged, mostly on the other side of the railroad. Marsh didn't have salmon cups (they did have plastic bags, cat food, Knorr boullion powder, and a brand of kippers I hadn't seen recently) so I went to Owen's West. Owen's didn't have salmon cups (they did have braunschwieger, tuna-salad cups, and a soup-bowl of instant macaroni and cheese, which last Dave had for lunch today and pronounced good but don't make a point of buying more) so I zig-zagged to Owen's East, and they did have salmon cups. And by the time I'd put stuff away, showered, washed my hair, and hung my cycling clothes on the line, there wasn't enough afternoon left for a nap. Did lie down a bit, but I was dragging around all evening -- until almost bedtime, when I perked right up. I keep thinking I've forgotten something I meant to do today, but Dave's Carhart jeans are hemmed and in his suitcase, all his underwear is clean, and the banners aren't due until Wednesday. Dave had walked to the teller machine and didn't feel like going out into the heat again, so I planned to take my after-supper walk in the lake. I was on the beach before I remembered that I'd had a walk this morning! Didn't go beyond the sandbar, but I think I should get double credit for steps taken knee deep in water. I was surprised at how hard it was to keep my balance. But I don't think I've ever waded just to be wading before -- it's a lot easier to keep balanced when you have a purpose. And I think there's a general philosophical point in there somewhere. 17 August 2009 Now I remember what chores were nagging at me last night: finish reading the wind-farm letter, and write a review of two books from the library. And I really, really should have pulled the onions yesterday. There were two inches of rain in the gauge when Dave looked at it with his telescope before leaving, and will probably be more when I read it at seven tonight. I looked at Argonne on my way to Marsh on Saturday. No longer a mess: it's all smooth hard-packed dirt with neat square edges. Doesn't at all line up with Parker; I presume they are going to do all the fitting on the Parker side, after they finish this side and can close the other half of Center street. Didn't ask Dave how he planned to get out of town; I'd cut through Sprawlmart to SR30; I suspect he will have gone down Wooster to CR350E. He did say that he planned to use all back roads except for using the Interstate through Cleveland. I didn't talk him into taking any food with him -- not even a vine-ripe tomato to have on his McDonald's lunch -- but he does have plenty of water and a mini- cooler of soda. I believe in taking food I don't plan to eat when I go out into the boonies, and I've been glad of it several times. 20 August 2009 The trouble with eating when you are hungry is that it leads to a diet high in food that can be prepared very, very fast. I had a raw ear of corn for breakfast. Haven't eaten raw corn since we grew our own. I was in bed well before midnight last night, and still slept until nearly nine this morning. Didn't help that the power went out & Dave's UPS started beeping, first insistently, then frantically. After shutting his computer down, I didn't have even a faint clue as to what else to do. I could have unplugged stuff, but I had no way to tell which cord went where. I might have tried to trace the power cord on the printer, if I'd remembered that it existed. I finally shut the door to Dave's room and stuck my good ear into a pillow. I was surprised to learn that I have a "good ear" for pillow-sticking purposes, though I've known for decades that one ear is a bit deficient at high pitches. I guess the beeping was all high pitch. This morning I couldn't connect to the internet, and re-setting the router -- the only thing I do know how to do in that room -- didn't help, so I thought I was off the air until Dave came back. Then I randomly pushed the only button on the modem and things started working again. (I had pushed it several times, it being the only button in the room, while trying to shut up the UPS.) Something was going on in Boys City Drive at the intersection with Park while the power was out, but all I could see was that a car was stopped in Boys City with its headlights lighting up our lawn, and another vehicle was parked beside it with only a blinking tail- light visible. I thought I saw a person with a very small light on his head going into the house on the corner, and after a while the headlights car drove off. I went back to bed and didn't witness any further developments. The scanner, of course wasn't working. It said nothing all night or this morning, but I just now fiddled around with the microphone (Dave's scanner used to be my transceiver) until I remembered how to start it scanning. Or, at least, the numbers on the display started changing. My scanner doesn't appear to have lost its memory, but it never did do anything but make occasional unintelligible noises; I should get rid of it. Or find somewhere else to put it. (Pause to move it to the shelf in the bedroom, where I can actually reach it and might be able to set it.) [It now makes intelligible noises; must have been a bad spot for reception.] When I turned off Dave's computer I figured that I'd leave it that way until Dave came back or I bought something and needed to record it in Quicken, but I missed the clock when I was lying awake in the night. I may turn it back on when I go to bed. I *think* you just push the button on the tower, same as mine. Hah! Saw something poking out from under the monitor stand, leaned over to see what it was, and found the "dressing comb for long hair" that I lost a long time ago. But the pocket comb I bought from James Townsend & Sons works better. Dug up the multipliers yesterday. The garden is so sandy that I was able to find them by running my fingers through the soil. I'd better get them spread out on newspaper today. Which I just did; there's less than a quart of them, so it didn't take long. I'm not getting much done at the church this week: I took a pamphlet I intend to review for Rough Sewing to Handwork Circle on Tuesday, and was just warming up when the hour was over. Then yesterday I took the hemmed banners in fifteen minutes early, planning to fuse scraps to the bottom of the blue one to make it the same length as the other before Martha got there. (She had left the fusing stuff in the work room the week before.) But I'd forgotten the black broadcloth and had to trot home to get it (and then we didn't get that far, but it's stashed with the other supplies now.), which left me rather hot and in need of a sit before getting to work. And somehow it took me the *entire* hour to cut two rectangles, fuse them together, then fuse them to the bottom of the banner. Meanwhile, Martha traced *and* cut out all the letters we mean to fuse to the blue banner. She had fused the stickum to the back of the fabric for the letters while I was trotting up Sunday Lane. And I left without checking the fridges, but I *had* taken a token swipe at them Tuesday. (Time out to take a token swipe at my own fridge, which is disgusting.) 21 August 2009 I've been thinking about crock-potting another loaf or rye'n'injun, but substituting honey for the molasses. Would taste much better, I think. The Wildman's have painted the new siding -- at least on this side. Brent borrowed Dave's chain saw to cut up a maple limb that blew down the night the electricity went out. Had to start over fixing lunch today -- and open all the windows to let the smoke out. So now the sewing room stinks like a closet when I first step in, but it doesn't annoy me *quite* enough to find the screen and put it in. (I'm pretty sure the screen for this window is behind the piano.) Walked a bit further than usual this afternoon -- to the ice-cream parlor. The woman in line ahead of me bought a waffle bowl heaped up with sweet stuff: oh, to be fifty again! I took the smallest cone. A plain old-fashioned "cake cup" cone. Seems to me that sugar cones used to be a treat, but they haven't any flavor, and don't have as delicate a crunch as plain cones. Finally finished the hemp-jersey briefs that have been cluttering the sewing room for months, and put elastic into my new cycling knickers. So it's just as well that I want to attend two events in opposite directions tomorrow. I can wear the new knickers to the Farmer's Market, then if they aren't comfortable, change into the old ones to go to the Tomato Festival in Pierceton. Probably be a good idea to lie down for five or ten minutes after putting the vegetables away, as Pierceton is a long trip these days. Must remember to eat the last tomato and the last ear of corn for supper at eight. I had the next-to- the-last tomato on a toasted "slim bun", with a sprinkling of bacon bits, for my second lunch. After burning the okra for my first lunch, I steamed baby limas, dumped in the dab of cauliflower and broccoli I'd thawed to put in the okra, and made a cheese sauce starring the seasoned flour I use for frying fish. I may try that sauce again. I stirred flour around until all the vegetables were coated, then added a dash of milk, sprinkled it with strong-flavored cheese, and simmered for a while. 23 August 2009 When Mom fried mush, the slices got a crust on them that held them together. Maybe my skillet wasn't hot enough. Dave called yesterday to say that he'll start home tomorrow instead of Tuesday. I'd better start picking stuff up and putting it away. Should have dug the garlic sooner -- more than half the cloves fell off the stems & were lost. What's left is ample, but every one of those missing bulbs is going to come up. I'm planning to preserve the bulbils in vinegar. Pity I can't buy 10% vinegar such as I used to get at Kim's Oriental. Hmm . . . maybe the cutesy-food store across Parker from Owen's has some. While roodling around for a mini-sub for supper (thin-sliced summer sausage, lettuce, and yellow tomato) I thought of riding my bike to Aunt Millie's Outlet tomorrow, but the section of 250E that's getting repaired is the section built on fill; not a chance that I'd be able to walk around it. I was surprised that Pierceton wasn't much of a trip at all -- walking down one set of steps once a week must be doing me more good than I thought. Lots of tomatoes at the festival, but all I bought was two peaches. And lots and lots of snacks. I'd rather have had ham & beans, cornbread, and fried green tomatoes -- but I didn't want it enough to stand in line. The ham & beans made the whole park smell like bacon. Got an ear of grilled corn, "home-made" ice cream -- grainy; it was selling so fast it didn't even have time to get finish freezing, let alone ripen. I was surprised that my sample of bruschetta was served on fried bread; I thought bruschetta *was* fried bread, and had ordered it to go with my sample of gazpacho. They put cucumbers in the gazpacho. Some in the bruschetta too, but not enough to spoil it. Not too much in the way of crafts; mostly produce and snacks. One vendor complained that there ought to have been a BLT booth. I should go back and tour the antique stores before it gets cold. Having both the computers that run games turned off stops me playing, but does nothing for the addiction. I do have some numbers to punch into Quicken now, but I'm leaving the computer turned off. A limb fell off one of the Wildman's maples into our yard during the storm that put the power out. Brent borrowed Dave's chain saw and cleaned up the mess. 29 August 2009 Lots of catching up to do in this entry. I've sold the wind over my forty acres, but haven't yet received the papers to sign. Dave downloaded a PDF file about wind farms from the Farm Bureau Web site. I much baffled that it was nothing but a table of contents; some of the topics looked interesting, which was rather frustrating. Dave suggested that it was a set of Power Point slides that had once gone with a lecture; the "parting thoughts" slide confirmed that theory. I haven't found any un-diluted vinegar to preserve my garlic bulbils in. Tried the fancy-food store, discovered that the lease had long since been taken up by a catering company. I knew when I first laid eyes on it that it was doomed to fail, but I'm rather sorry that it's no longer around. Going over that way brought Bibles & Books to my attention, so I went in & discovered that they have a shelf of second-hand books being sold to support their jail ministry. I found and bought a child's story called _Maida's Little Camp_; apparently "Maida's Little ... " was like "The Bobbsey Twins ... " I haven't gotten any further than the breathless introduction of the inmates of The Little House. Since this includes fifteen children, four servants, one tutor, one governess, at least one grandmother, and an unstated number of parents, I suspect that "Little House" is something of a misnomer. The grandmother, who is to take care of the Little Seven while the Big Eight and at least four of the adults (tutor, governess, and two of the servants) go to camp for a month, is advised to call on the inhabitants of the Big House if she needs help. Despite unpromising predictions, today would have been good weather for the long bike ride I've been wanting to take, but I didn't get up until after ten, and by the time I got back from the Farmer's Market, put stuff away (including some seltzer and chocolate I'd bought at Sherman & Lin's on the way back), and ate breakfast, it was time for my nap. At least I know why I slept so late: I gave up trying to sleep at four, and read the July/August Analog until six. Why I couldn't sleep is another question! I seem to be getting more nocturnal as I age -- pity I'm not actually awake during those sleepless hours. We had BLTs on mini-sub rolls and steamed corn for supper tonight. While I was buttering my ear, I wondered how it would taste dipped in bacon grease -- dipping in melted butter didn't improve the roasted ear I bought at the festival; with both butter and corn boiling hot, the butter all ran off. Which quickly led me to resolve that my breakfast tomorrow would be an ear of corn cooked by rolling it around in hot bacon grease -- but I'm not likely to wake up soon enough to do that and still get dressed in time for church. And, having postponed the long bike ride, I can't have it on Monday either, since I don't like to exercise on a stomach full of grease. On the other hand, the way I ride isn't exactly exercise these days. I've been upset ever since I heard that the Greenway was going to go along Market street, which I've mentioned here several times. Market is the only way through town that's both comfortable and safe for a bike. Center is safe, but very uncomfortable. Going through the alleys is fun, but I dare not do so when I'm the least bit tired or otherwise impaired in judgement. Winona has a lot of intersections I truly hate, and none of the other east-west streets go through, So they have finally let the contract, and it's even worse than I feared: it's going to be BIKE LANES, I won't dare use Market at all after the Greenway goes through. People in cars tend to think of bikes in bike lanes as outside their jurisdiction; after all, he's in a different lane, therefore you need not take any account of him. Unfortunately, it's a rare bike lane that's even a third of the width that would be needed to make this an accurate perception. So anyone who rides in a bike lane is sooner or later going to get his knuckles rapped with a door handle -- and suppose the car or the bike swerves by half an inch during such an encounter? I got a recipe for a dish called Rye'n'Injun off the Web: 1.5 cups rye flour, 1.5 cups corn meal, 2 teaspoons soda, 1 teaspoon salt, 3/4 cup molasses, 1 cup buttermilk, 2 eggs. Pour into well-greased crock pot set on "keep warm", wait at least four hours for the top to puff up and crack. So I tried it, and it made bread -- but oh, man is it obvious that the fellow who wrote the recipe didn't mean *blackstrap* molasses. I swear, the molasses flavor in that bread is stronger than molasses straight out of the bottle. Only way to eat it is cut thin, with a layer of peanut butter nearly as thick as the bread, with dill pickles and onions on top. So I tried again, substituting honey for the molasses, and using a cup and a half of milk because the first batch was way dry. That didn't change the soda balance, because I was putting buttermilk powder in with the dry ingredients, then using plain milk for the liquid. Got a much better texture -- though I should have steamed it for at least another hour; it was a little doughy in the middle of the top. But oh, my, is it ever SWEET! I'm planning to cut some of it into crumbs and sprinkle it on my bran flakes in the morning. I think it would be nice gingerbread if one made it with brown sugar and put in a lot of spices. But if I make it again, I'm going to make it with no sweetener at all. At the last banner meeting, we fused all the letters to the blue banner, and it's ready to hang except for a last-minute touch-up with the iron. Martha cut out the pattern for the butler, fused stickum to some of the black cloth, and cut out the butler. He's a waiter, actually. So next Wednesday, the last Wednesday before the first Sunday in September, all we have to do is a little ironing and some artistic decisions. We were *very* glad to realize that we had that Wednesday. Then we can start over with the next pair of banners. Martha can't remember what the theme is, and I didn't remember to ask Pastor Henry when I saw him, so we haven't any planning done. 1 September 2009 I had lots of fun on the last day of August -- I decided to return my library books, and go the long way. So I rode through the bike trails to Roy Street and meandered my way to 200S, with a short side trip where I mistook Western for Westbrook. The pavement on 200S was rough, except for a short stretch that was brand new. Then north on 400W to jog over to Parks-Schramm on Crystal Lake. Pretty soon after turning onto Crystal Lake, I saw a self-serve table selling surplus vegetables out of someone's garden, and bought two little tomatoes and a ripe banana pepper, which turned out to be fortunate. Parks-Schramm is a tad built up and dull, save for a great view of the Tippy where the power line crosses. The lines were crackle-hissing, but not making noises like running water. I suppose it was the angle of the wind the previous time. But on 100S, I spotted some marsh mallows in bloom on the far side of a pond or backwater that, at the time, I took for the Tippy, which left me rather puzzled when I crossed the railroad and couldn't see any bridge or culvert. My map straightened me out when I got to Chinworth, where I unpacked my lunch and discovered that I'd brought chicken salad and lots of other good stuff to put on my mini-sub roll, but I hadn't brought the roll! So I ate all the crackers that came with the salad instead of two or three, and had a "fruit bar" (oversized fig newton made with generic jam) for dessert. There was still a little ice in my milk, but it was gone when I finished the pint later. I forgot, for a critical moment, that wrench-and- flip lids such as the one on the chicken salad leave a dangerously-sharp ridge around the can, and got blood spots on this, that, and the other before I remembered that I had a band-aid in my first-aid kit. It had been more than ten years since I used the kit, and the wrapper was filthy, but the band-aid was still clean -- and worked better than the "sheer strip" I changed into today. Still haven't replaced the band-aid; perhaps I should slip one into the razor-blade pocket of the sewing kit I carry in my wallet while I'm at it. Then the full length of the Chinworth Trail -- except, of course for the walkway alongside 100N between Chinworth and CCAC. The CCAC ladies' room was still open, but the water fountain had been shut off. The valve was prominent to see -- I knew the water was shut off before I tried the fountain -- but considering that I'd just started my second bottle, that I'd refused to drink what I got here last time, and that it wasn't far to the next drinking fountain, I thought it rude to mess with it. I didn't notice any frisbie-golf goals, but those are easy to miss and I didn't remember to look for them until I was past where I think they were. Donnely has a large private park, complete with playground and shelterhouse. Still no "end of trail" sign, but the mile-marker says "0" on the back. I'll have to look at the backs of the others the next time I go through. Out of habit, I followed Zimmer all the way to Crystal Lake, then cut from Winona to Market on Hand, instead of turning off Zimmer onto Center Street. I stopped at Owen's West to refill my bottles, and bought a couple of packages of thin sandwich buns while I was there. Thence to the library, where I locked up my bike, collected my books, and tried the door before I remembered that they are closed for alterations. Walked down Detroit to the party store, then walked to Lowery's, where I bought a spool of thread and decided to go straight home by the shortest route. The shortest route took me past the fairgrounds, and the Farmers' Market was in full swing -- shame I can't stop -- but wait, there are public restrooms in the fairgrounds! So I took a leisurely tour of the market, which is so sparse on Monday that one can see both sides in one trip. I bought a pound of frozen sausage patties, but Dave says that he doesn't like that kind so I have to eat it all myself, poor me. Makes a nice lunch french- fried in bacon grease and served on a thin bun with a slice of tomato. I had to stop myself from walking to the shade tree where I usually park after seeing the last booth; you'd think having the bike in hand would be a clue. Also toured the second-hand store in Lakeview, which I hadn't seen open before. Bought a copy of John Turnipseed's Four Seasons Almanac there, but there was nothing of interest at the pawn shop. A second resort to emergency supplies didn't work out as well. Nearly home, I realized that I should have bought something for supper while I was at Owen's. But don't I keep a can of beef for just such an emergency? And I've got those nice little fingerling potatoes and some celery and onions. But when I got the can out, it was turkey, and turkey stew didn't appeal to me, so we had Michelina entrees. 2 September 2009 My six-quart stainless-steel Revereware pot got a workout yesterday. First I used it to soak beans overnight, then I used it two or three times to boil more water to pour into the beans cooking outside, then I used it to steam the corn for supper, then I used it to put the soup in the fridge. I didn't use the fireplace, since the dutch oven won't fit into it, but built my fire on the octagon of pavers and brick I shovel coals on when I'm baking, then I re-arranged the fire into a ring and set the kettle on the hot ashes in the middle. The trouble with simmering soup is that you need a small fire, and a small fire has to be tended every few minutes. I eased that some by pulling the fire farther from the kettle. Still kept it boiling fast enough that I had to add water now and again. I forgot the tablespoon of brown rice and the black pepper. It's harder to think of little dabs of seasoning when you have to run them out to the fireplace! Got the wind-farm papers in yesterday's mail. Figured I'd read them during Handwork Circle, but I arrived late because of having to clean the dutch oven before it rusted, and then remembered that this was the Tuesday that the church was giving out root-beer floats to the Grace College students right outside my door, so I spent the remaining time standing around nattering. And, once, going down the slide of the church's inflatable bouncy toy. I didn't even think of bouncing; I was rather surprised that I fit through the door. While replacing the band-aid in my first-aid kit, I noticed that I also have a dose of aspirin. It looked fine, the wrapper wasn't dirty, and it didn't smell of vinegar -- but I threw it out and put in a fresh one. The Wildmans have taken down the three-trunked sycamore in their front yard. I missed seeing the impressive stump before they ground it out, but the chunks lying around look a lot bigger than they did on the tree.