A while back I realized that if I turned the treadle sewing machine ninety degrees, I could work at it without pulling it out into the room, and I would have my back to the light coming in through the window. Since the machine never got pushed back, rotating it made the bedroom much neater.
But there was just barely room for me between the machine and the wall. Today I noted that there was a little more space than strictly necessary between the machine and the dresser, and also between the dresser and the bed, so I moved the dresser over an inch and moved the machine over two inches. That small change made a big difference.
And I finished the pocket-opening hems and basted the pockets under them. It's starting to look like pants.
Just checked Dave's home page. I still have until nine o'clock to get home — but just barely. (Sunset at 8:59) Luckily, I found a watch at Walmart yesterday.
Dave had the Toyota serviced yesterday. The estimated wait time was on the border of sit there playing with his Kindle and having me follow him in the Versa; I said that I didn't mind, and would like to eat breakfast out.
So I followed him in the Versa
—not exactly, since he absent-mindedly went straight at the intersection of Argonne, Park, Winona, and King's Highway/Pierceton Road, and I turned left. When I hit the first stop sign on Winona I remembered that Market is a much better way through town, and thought he'd done it on purpose. But I made every last light on Detroit and was parking, he said, when he arrived. I didn't see him.—
and we ate breakfast at the Red Apple, then he went back to Toyota to play with his Kindle and I went to Walmart, where I found a pocket watch. I didn't find reading glasses, and didn't even look for a telephone. I've given up on that because nobody in the entire world except me wants a *first* phone, so all displays assume that you already know what each phone costs.
I didn't find a watch, exactly; I found a child's toy with a watch peeking out through a teeny window in the back. I was consternated, upon trying to set it, to find that the toy was sealed and you couldn't get at the buttons, but later noticed two tiny holes below the watch window, and poking a toothpick through those worked. Except that I set it a few minutes fast and would have to poke it sixty times to adjust it. I was sure it was right when I poked it back to "show time".
Arrgh! Writing that reminded me that I hadn't wound Grandmother Bailey's watch this month, as Marty Finkle told me to do so the gears wouldn't glue themselves together — and when I was about to put it back into the box, I dropped it. The carpet is well padded, but it crashed against a sewing stand on the way down, and stopped ticking.
I'll ask at Zales after First Friday tonight. I was thinking of going to Pierceton Days after my nap —they open at noon today— but nothing interesting is going on. Nothing much going on at First Friday, either, but I've been wanting to ride around the lake to check out some of the green dotted lines on Google's map.
While dumping the coffee filter, I noticed that the garlic chives are making flower buds — and getting close to the end of the time when they are tender enough to pick and eat.
Yea, rah! I'm out $400!
Just checked Quicken — about this time last year I got a check from Outland Renewable Energy for the rent on my wind-farm easement. (Not rent: I've forgotten the term for money paid to keep you from selling to anybody else.)
Instead, today's mail included a notice that they are giving the easement back, having been forced to realize that building windmills there is a really-stupid idea. They didn't put it that way, of course.
I didn't find a watch at Walmart. I found a watch-setting practice toy — you can set the time, but then it stays there. Discovering that solved a lot of "how could I have set it *that* far off?" puzzles.
Got some sewing done this morning, but ran out of thread.
<BORING RIDE REPORT>
I'm planning to tell everything I know in the hope that there will be some good stuff to filet out and make into a LOC.
But at the moment, it's more interesting that I have one minute and forty-nine seconds until my burrito is done.
(Took fifteen minutes to fry, but it was delicious with banana pepper, onion, relish plate, and a glass of milk.) (But I'm still hungry.)
My plan was to take my nap early, then go out by the Heritage Trail, explore the green-dotted roads, and end up at First Friday.
But I sewed up all my col. 6260 cotton thread, making it imperative to get to Lowery's before they close at 5:30, then I slept late. Oookay, I've got five hours, I'll go to First Friday first and explore afterward. And then when I'd gone far enough that I didn't want to come back, I realized that I'd forgotten the map with the green-dotted lines on it. Realized a bit later that I'd also forgotten to get some emergency food bars out of the freezer, but what-ho, I'm going through downtown; if none of the vendors appeal, I can eat at Subway or something, so there isn't going to be any emergency.
And when I turned back toward home, I was mainly interested in taking the shortest route, so not much exploring was done. I did take notes, though.
Meanwhile, back at the beginning, as I was rolling out the driveway, I met Gilsinger's truck bringing the lawn mower back, so I went back to the house to roust Dave out to deal with it, looked at my watch intending to write a revised departure time in my notebook, observed that it still said 4:17, and the dime dropped, so I left the toy on the piano. Pity; the chain the "clip watch" was on was the right length to stay in my pocket. Well, longer would have been better so that I could read it without unclipping it from the D ring.
Stopped at the Boathouse to get a "fast fifty" from the teller machine. After turning off Winona onto McKinley, intending to use Market, which is still the best way to get through town, I remembered that Lowery's is on Winona. So I went Hendryx and Jefferson. Jefferson isn't scenic if you aren't into heavy industry, and has more stop signs than Market does. The pavement on Jefferson knows it's used mostly by heavy trucks, but isn't too bad.
I crossed back to Winona on Sherman. Winona has patches of usable shoulder just long enough to entice you off the road, then they end suddenly and force you to swerve back into the traffic. Not a street I'd recommend to those who haven't memorized it.
I cut through a parking lot to avoid the unpleasant intersection of Winona and Detroit, then spotted an alley lined up with the exit of the parking lot and decided to avoid Detroit altogether.
Note to any youngsters reading this: I am a *very* experienced rider, and I was quite fresh at the time. Do not try alley-riding at home.
I stopped in a spot of shade to write notes, then spotted barricades and followed Buffalo to the party.
Which was rather boring, really. I found a place to cross the criterium track and on the way back toward Buffalo in search of food, I happened to walk past Mad Anthony just as Dave looked out the window, so he rushed out to flag me down and I parked at one of the new (actually functional!) bike racks —on the other side from a bike that was already chained up there— and went in just as Dave's Philly Cheese Steak was served. So I ordered a glass of seltzer with a twist of lime and ate half the cheese steak. And more than half of the french fries. Both were delicious. Mad Anthony serves very good food.
The door was either locked or stuck when I tried to go to the ladies' room; since what I really wanted was to top off my water bottle, instead of waiting I went on to the library; I've forgotten why there's an author's name on my shopping list, but I wouldn't have put it there if the library didn't have some of his works. I arrived at the exact moment that the library closed up for the day, so I went to Center Lake Park, where I found both a ladies' room and a water fountain. And it's good that I picked up more water; I got home with both bottles empty.
The park is on Canal Street (where's the canal?); I followed that to Buffalo and Buffalo to an alley just north of Fort Wayne, then took Union to Center Street. My notes say the pavement on Center is "not new, not bad". Cut through previously-noted parking lots to Zimmer road and headed south.
When I got to a road named Golf Heights, I became concerned about being on the road to Mentone and consulted my map, then got back on Zimmer/SR 25. I was not happy to do so; the pavement isn't very rough, but the loose-gravel shoulder is completely unridable, and dangerous to drop off the road onto except in the rare places where there is a large flat area on the other side of the gravel. (The shoulder is quite narrow, so there is little risk in crossing it if you have a place to go.) And traffic was heavy enough that it isn't very rare to be overtaken just as you meet someone coming the other way. I would really, really like to be able to get off the road when that happens!
So I was delighted to come to Ferguson. Very light traffic, and rough spots were few.
Traffic picked up a bit when I turned onto CR 200 S, but not so much that I couldn't mostly avoid the rough edge of the road, it wasn't rough enough to throw one off the bike, and the transverse cracks weren't too bumpity.
200 S's pavement improved after I crossed SR 15, and traffic was lighter, but it became a series of hills. They weren't very high, and they weren't steep enough to make me remember that I'd forgotten to wear my cleats, but there were a *lot* of them. Amplitude declined and wavelength lengthened as I approached County Farm Road.
There was a steep climb on the other side of County Farm, but not so steep that I shifted all the way to granny, and not very high. Hills were more moderate and less regular. The edge of the road was frequently mended, but it was mended reasonably well.
At the end of 200 S I took Country Club to 225 S. Pavement was sound, traffic light, hills moderate.
I turned off 225 S onto Widaman, a smooth residential road with bumpity transverse cracks. Roy Street was the same.
The Heritage Trail: smooth, all traffic (except me) pedestrian, few enough that I didn't have to ride hard-to-balance slow. I did shift all the way to granny on one of the climbs, and it was on the Heritage Trail that I first noticed that my sweat was sticking my knickers to my knees. (I took a shower and changed clothes from the skin out upon getting home.)
Emptied my last water bottle on Boys' City Drive.
</REPORT>
Al threw up on our newly-cleaned living room carpet, then a while later followed up on the brand-new carpet in the hallway — backing up all the time he was retching so as to maximize the area I had to clean.
In the living room, he threw up right next to a carpet sample — almost, but not quite, close enough to dirty the sample too.
What's wrong with the plastic runner, guy? And that broadloom sample is at least as comfortable to sink claws into as the carpet!
Dave wants to take my pile of sticks out to the road for pickup to make the fireplace look nicer for the wedding — and I agree; sticks aren't exactly in short supply.
But these sticks are nice and dry, and I haven't baked outside all summer, so I mixed up a loaf of bread before nap time, and put it into the kettle when I woke up. When I took the kettle outside for the bread to rise in the heat, I remembered *why* I hadn't built a fire all summer. The burn ban is history, but only an idiot would build a fire in such a wind.
So I re-shaped the dough and baked it in the oven.
Together with some french onion soup that had been in the freezer for ages — who is going to fire up an oven for an hour to warm up a snack?
We each sampled the soup after supper, but most of it is now in the fridge.
Picked up my toy watch this morning, wondering how to dispose of it, and it was, mysteriously, showing the correct time. So I put it into my jersey pocket.
I've discovered that my pocket magnifiers will fit neatly into my candy/watch pocket, so that relieves the congestion in the keychains/lipstick pocket. I'm still looking for 3.5 or 3.25 folding magnifiers. Usually no folders at all in displays, and I think I've bought every pair of 3.25 I've ever seen, so I don't expect to find one soon.
Today's schedule: wash clothes, fetch milk, Culta-Eze garden. And clean house.
Wednesday: eat at the new Japanese place, Thursday: dental appointment, Friday: rehearsal, Saturday: wedding. Busy week.
Milk fetched. Also clearance bananas, manager's-special pork, and two cans of corned-beef hash. I didn't sweat much, but the load of hot whites was already soaking, so I threw my white cap in before adding bleach.
I think I'll bake the pork with barbecue sauce and vegetables. I have fresh zucchini and yellow squash.
1:51 and time for my nap. The pork is ready to pop into the oven when I get up — and a good thing, too, since the label says to bake it for three hours. But that recipe is for twice as much.
There are two tiny potatoes among the veggies tucked around the pork, and three in the fridge. I had one in the fridge, saw one while culta-ezing and snapped. it off instead of covering it up, plowed up one, and noticed that one of the volunteers was ready to dig and dug up two. Two wee small potatoes is pretty good return on investment when I planted nothing. And if I missed a pea-sized potato, I'll get another volunteer next year.
One load of wash on the line and everything else soaking in the washer.
Not much in the way of "clean house" done, but I scratched everything else off the agenda. Took a walk down to the bridge, where a fellow with very good balance demonstrated that it isn't quite closed to pedestrian traffic yet. A crane and a wrecking ball are in evidence, so I think they'll start smashing concrete tomorrow.
Today would have been a very good day to build a fire — pity I still have half a loaf of bread! I've half a notion to go out and build a fire just to be building one.
Did build a fire — but made the mistake of re-building it while looking for an escaped cat (It worked; he turned up while I was fiddling with the fire), which wasn't a mistake until I decide to put those *big* pieces on it. It was well after midnight before it was safe to leave it, and I had to dunk some of the remains of the big pieces in the water bucket. Dave stirred up a dust cloud when he mowed past the hearth today.
Today is for sewing. Finally got up the nerve to cut a piece out of the treadle sewing-machine belt (I've been putting up with slippage for *years*.) Putting it back together wasn't near as fraught as joining it the first time was; I didn't even need pliers.
Martha and Emilee dropped by just before lunch and looked over the scene. Sure hope it doesn't rain!
While wrestling my white linen dress around on the ironing board, I snagged the iron cord, knocked the iron over, and reflexively caught it.
Ow! Ow! Ow!
It was awkward to finish ironing a dress that has to be ironed under tension without touching steaming fabric with my right hand. And of course the hot fabric was always on the right end.
But the burn is all gone now, save for a slightly-sensitive spot on my middle finger, where I'd feared I might develop a blister. Probably helped that I ran cold water on it at once — and cooled my fingers on the damp fabric on my way to the faucet.
Both sides of the bridge had been removed when we walked yesterday, with a strip of deck left in the middle. The girder under the downstream side had been removed, the upstream girder hadn't. There appear to be two girders under the remaining strip.
All the bits they expose seem to be in perfect condition — concrete isn't cracked (well, it *wasn't* cracked), girders aren't rusted. But I suppose a bridge is like turnout gear: you want to replace it while you still know it works.
The deterioration of the main bridge is obvious to the casual glance. And has been for years.
We detoured past the bridge on our way home from Yamato Steak house, and all the span was gone, except for a girder lying in the creek. Still abutments to dig out.
The food was very good, and the salad dressing was superb. Dave liked the soy sauce; all I could taste was salt. (Dave's sense of smell is much better than mine.) The soy sauce was in a cute little bottle with a teapot spout on one side.
I didn't like the ceramic soup spoon at all, and ended up drinking the last of my broth straight from the bowl.
I've just now realized why Dave liked the broth more than I did: it tasted, subtly, of fish.
Got my teeth cleaned today. Rode out around the south end of the lake, came back by Smith Street. Even though I made a false start that ate up fifteen minutes, and made a wrong turn, the trip out took less than an hour. Estimated; upon arrival, I changed my shoes before I remembered to look at my watch. First roll-out at 9:58; finished changing shoes at 11:00.
Picked up a few things at Marsh, plus crackers, soy-nut butter, and a cup of yogurt for lunch. Used crackers as spoons to eat the yogurt. I should check to see whether I still carry a yogurt spoon in my emergency kit.
Tired in the afternoon, but couldn't sleep at nap time. We had microwaved six-inch pizzas for supper. I put chinese vegetables on mine, and divided a pre-cooked sausage link between us. The sausage zapped quite well
Tomorrow we've scheduled house cleaning. All the carpets are in dire need of sweeping, and the kitchen floor needs to be scrubbed.
The bridge builders still have an abutment to dig out, but have begun to drive piles. More is driven in than is left sticking out. The first time I left, I went by Union Street to the Heritage trail just to be passing by the bridge; the second time I went the shorter way by Boys City.
I said that they should throw a plank across the creek because that bridge sees more pedestrian traffic than motorized traffic — and they did leave a girder spanning the creek. Dave said he saw the workmen using it, but it's down in a muddy hole; if I didn't want to walk to the other bridge, I'd take my shoes off and wade the creek. It's only ankle deep at the moment.
But I'd probably have to roll my pants up.
After all the furniture-moving, the actual scrubbing is going to be anticlimactic.
After we got the kitchen cleared, I happened to open the pantry — we'd skipped this area the last few times and it *shows*. Then I started to sweep and realized that the laundry room is part of the same floor. Luckily, the laundry hamper is on wheels.
Dave mopped the kitchen and both bathrooms. Not much has been put back yet.
Checked into Facebook and read the "food challenge" after lunch (chef salad garnished with the last pickled egg). After logging off Facebook, I looked up paella and discovered that I have, indeed, tried it: it's spanish rice. But spanish rice is a long way from Valencian Paella.
Dirty rice is the same sort of dish, but I think it was invented independently. (Checks: dirty rice isn't rice cooked in broth with the meat, therefore isn't a paella-group dish.) (I should have known without looking: one doesn't *boil* chicken livers!)
Thump, thump, thump, the piles are driving! At this distance, a diesel pile driver sounds like a heartbeat.
Seven piles driven, one with the driver still on it. They aren't in a perfectly-straight line, which I suspect is deliberate. It looks as though they intend to build the abutment on this side before tearing out the old abutment on the other.
When looking in the fridge for lunch, I saw the chicken I'd intended to put into the rice cooker to make soup for supper. Since it was thawed, I cooked it anyway and put it into the fridge at bedtime. It will be a good quick meal sometime.
Having a big juicy tomato, I set out to ride to Owen's to replace the bag of hamburger patties I'd used up, but shortly after crossing the bridge, I said "buk, buk, buk" and made a U-turn. Didn't rain enough to get me actually wet while I was gone, but being damp in a stiff breeze at 59F is not a good idea.
Especially while wearing nothing but sheer linen. Not getting fried every time I step outside is going to take some getting used to.
Changed pants and shoes and drove the Versa. I did get the frozen meat, but I found a nice little rib-eye in the Manager's Special bin, so I dug up the other eastern volunteer potato, found three low-carb potatoes, and zapped those and the three I'd had in the fridge, then kept them warm in my smallest skillet until the steak was done.
I think one of the potatoes was a Yukon Gold — I wonder when I planted those? The volunteers west of the planted row are much larger plants, so I hope they will have bigger potatoes. None of them seem to plan on ripening soon, but it was so wet and cold that I didn't look at anything after noticing that one plant was ready.
Didn't wear two jerseys to the farmers' market and didn't regret it — much.
Half a dozen ears is quite a lot for two people, one of whom ought not to eat more than half an ear at a sitting, so I made cakes out of two ears of corn, one extra-large egg, and lots and lots of butter for my lunch.
A few days ago the paper printed a column from a "cooking expert" who thought that you make creamed corn by slicing the kernels off the cob, then running some of them through a blender! This was presented as a great revelation; up until then, he'd been putting cream in it.
If he ever learns about scraping corn off the cob, there's another whole column. Then he can get a third when he learns about using a great big bowl so you don't get corn glue all over the kitchen. He knows what butters his bread.
Came back from the market to find people all over the lawn. Things seem to have calmed down now. And it's time I got to bed, if I want to be up and dressed at four.
There is no longer a rod for the curtain I took off the closet a few years ago, but I thought cheerfully that I could drape a piece of fabric from my stash over the rod where I air freshly-ironed shirts before putting them into the closet.
Turned out nearly everything was too heavy or too big for the rod to support, or too small to block the view. I settled for "looks terrible with pink walls".
Read the weather report and chickened out of washing today. It's just as well; the clothesline has given its last gasp. About time: it was biting into the sycamore tree. (The other two anchors had been moved.)
I hope Dave can find line as good as the one that lasted thirty-nine years.
I took a walk instead. They were driving three wooden piles that looked like telephone poles. One at the far end of the row of seven pipes, two at the near end. These are taller than the metal piles; tops in the general neighborhood of level with the roadway. Heard one of the workers say to a friend that they plan to do exactly the same thing on the other side of the creek when they are done here. He also said that the new bridge will be a little wider.
I presume that the wooden piles will be part of the decorative wooden superstructure.
Had a fried cheddar sandwich with sliced yellow tomato for lunch. The large tomatoes that I've been buying at the farmer's market aren't any better than the shipped-in tomatoes at the grocery stores. The early-season greenhouse tomatoes were good, and the small red tomatoes have been good. Both large and small yellow tomatoes lack flavor and have too firm a texture.
I was thinking of making vegetable soup for supper, but Dave said it was about time to eat the brats, so I laid two out to thaw. Royal pain getting them out of the package, but I was able to keep the package intact enough to close it up again and put the remaining brats back in the freezer in it. And the next two won't be so difficult.
Meant to sew in the intervals of washing today. Managed to not sew in the intervals of doing nothing. I'm going to need a long-sleeved linen suit pretty soon.
Radar showed no rain in sight, so I rode to Aunt Millies and bought two loaves of bread, a bag of bagels, a bag of thin buns, and a bag of artificially-sweetened thin buns.
Wore two jerseys and was glad of it, but it's so humid out that I came home sweaty anyway.
Rode past the bridge in both directions. When I went out, they were doing something with a welder or torch on the farthest steel pile; when I came back, they were tamping dirt with the wrecking pear where they plan to drive the piles on the other side.
Had a bagel, two sausage patties, and the remainder of a rather poor tomato for lunch.
Dave got his temporary crown before breakfast. Still has a numb lip. His appointment was for later, but they had a cancellation or something.
During our after-supper walk, we saw that they had trimmed the tops of the steel piles and welded collars on all but one of them, and painted "pile goes here" marks on the tamped dirt.
Washday — and thanks to a yellow post-it note, I remembered to put in the ironing-board cover.
I hope it survives the experience — I'm not at all sure where I put my canton flannel.
It didn't fall apart, but it also didn't come clean. The unbleached-muslin drawstring casing turned white, though.
Found the shell-shaped soap dish while putting washrags away. I put a bar of soap in a saucer for the wedding; when it's just us, I put the wet bar on the spare bar, since I never get it dripping wet. Usually pick it up with a dry hand and rub it on something.
Realized, while hanging socks, that I wore hose three times last week: Wednesday for our anniversary dinner, Saturday for the wedding, and Sunday for church.
While hanging my linen-blend pants, I noticed that the edges of the hems were fuzzy: oops, I was supposed to take the basting out and let the hems down to avoid wear on the loosely-woven fabric.
The new line is working well.
I specified green line because Karen's lines were less conspicuous than mine. Sometimes I look out the window and think that the green is a little *too* inconspicuous.
I went by the bridge when I rode to Owen's after supper. All the pilings are in. I didn't think to look to see whether the pile driver was still around.
One of the reasons for going to Owen's was that my prescriptions were ready. But not all of them. I noticed that my Levothyroxin wasn't in the bag, and was *very* annoyed, but I don't have a script for that situation so I didn't say anything. This morning, having thought it over, I telephoned the pharmacy — and was about thirty seconds of hold music from riding my bike to Zale's with three bottles in my pocket before it was straightened out. I did snarl "I know it was just renewed, because we went all around Robin Hood's barn about it." (They mistook the renewal for a change.)
According to their records, the pills were in the bag. According to the bill I paid, they weren't — I'd noticed that while entering it into Quicken. So the pills are free, and ready for me to pick up. (Big whoop: these are the $2 pills.)
So where can I go on a Thursday morning, starting at Owen's East? We have only one magazine for the emergency room, and I'm bored with the boardwalk.
Perhaps to Zale's with three bottles in my pocket.
It is somewhat amusing that the $2 pills are the only ones that actually treat a condition. The $40 pills and the $5.94 pills (? I thought omeprazole was $8) are "you're an old fart and old farts take pills" pills.
And none of them are pills; the omeprazole is a capsule and the other two are tablets. I'm not sure it's even possible to mass-manufacture pills. And rather pointless, since a tablet or a capsule can be spherical if you want spherical.
But the pills on a sweater are quite literally pills; no metaphor involved.
While Quickening the Aunt Millies receipt, I noticed that they have one of those cash registers that print the name of what you bought on the tape. According to the tape, I bought "bread, bread, bread, bread, and bread." I suspect that the register wasn't designed for a store that sells nothing but bread.
I had occasion to change an icon this morning, and when I clicked on "change icon" I got a menu with all the useful icons; I didn't have to chase them down in assorted files — I wonder how long that has been going on? And it included a note-with-pushpin icon that I hadn't seen before, which I chose for my memo.
Baked bread in the evening — meant to start in the afternoon, but it rose very slowly. Got to get back to Spring Creek and buy some good yeast.
Then I let the fire burn too long, and there weren't quite enough coals. But cooked through and not brown beats too brown and doughy! We've eaten nearly half the loaf already.
I've noticed that Yoder's smaller tomatoes are much better than the large ones, and bought only small tomatoes today. I overheard the stall-minder telling someone that the good ones come from the greenhouse. I'd assumed that the greenhouse would end about the time the field-grown became available.
The corn, on the other hand, has been quite good. We've already eaten four of the half-dozen ears I bought this morning. Corncakes and sausage for lunch, and two steamed ears with supper.
I forgot my wallet this morning. Fawchunately, I carry a ten-dollar bill in my first-aid kit for just such an emergency. And I didn't have to write down what I was spending — just count my change afterward. And write that down: $3.90
I stopped at Sherman & Lin's on the way back and bought a bottle of 50-Fifty syrup and a can of pears in pear juice.
Nothing interesting to look at in the pawn shop. Did notice a vice-grip style C clamp. And lots of pry bars, but none of them were hive tools. (A hive tool is straight on one end, and thinner and wider at the edge, which makes it less damaging to what you are prying.)
I meant to wear my linen dress this morning, but I slept until almost time to step out, so when I remembered that it had no pockets I grabbed the dress I wore last Sunday to save the minute it would take to find my shoulder-hung pocket and fit things into it.
It wasn't cool enough to make my summer dress uncomfortable, but I didn't need it. I'd better start sorting out fall clothes.
We were relieved to discover that Al did pick up fleas when he escaped on August seventh. His flea allergy accounts for all of the alarming symptoms he's been displaying for many days.
I should say "signs"; according to some definition I read somewhere, "symptoms" refers to indications that the patient has to tell you about, while "signs" are indications that the caregiver can observe for himself. And Al hasn't said much about his condition.
Dave put Advantage on him after cleaning his chin and ears tonight.
Oops! While putting my make-up on this morning (a thin layer of 70-weight sunblock), I remembered that I'd planned to stick a label on the SoftSoap bottle so the wedding guests would know it was actually Orvis.
Ah, well, there's nothing in Orvis that isn't in SoftSoap, so a slight puzzlement is the worst that could have happened.
Slight chance of showers, so I postponed washday until tomorrow — and then didn't do anything else either. Did dash out to Owen's for milk and salad after supper.
And walked out along the Greenway. On this side of the creek, the bridge builders have bolted a wooden wall to the pilings, and bolted wooden posts to the wall. I presume that the finished bridge will look as though it were being held up by the posts. The wooden pilings on the ends are probably going to be weight bearing — they took telephone poles and pounded them in until they are about shoulder high.
On both sides, the steel pilings are wearing graduation caps, but square on instead of with a corner to the front.
They welded a bunch of water main together yesterday, and today they are pulling it under the creek. Through quite a long tunnel; it comes out at the far end of the gravel parking area this side of the cabin in the park. The tunnel must be deeper than it looks, because you can't see it in the creek.
The creek is muddy, so they must be doing something at the bridge. Since it was already past naptime, I didn't go to look.
I have noticed that if you pick just the last four inches of the stem, the garlic-chive flower buds are still tender and sweet. And we have worlds of flower buds. Even with taking only a snippet of each plant, I'd be put to it to eat all of them before they set seed.
It was last Sunday that Dave replaced the guts in the shower-room toilet, but I still haven't stopped holding the handle down.
Dave rented a storage locker yesterday, and moved a lot of stuff out of the garage, the shop, and his office. He says he's going to buy another set of shelves today.
I think I talked him out of storing the shop vac on the grounds that although we don't use it often, when we do use it, we want it *now*.
I said it was a long tunnel. When they laid the pipe out, it reached nearly to our driveway, and all of it is gone. Aside from some bare ground where each end of the tunnel was, a post with a wire from underground wrapped around it is the only sign that any work was done.
Walked to the bridge after supper yesterday. The wooden wall on the other side was built, and posts were laid out to be bolted to it.
Walked again a little after four this afternoon. Posts now bolted, and a beam that looks to be as big as the one that the people restoring the log house hunted over three states to find is bolted to the graduation caps on this side of the creek.
Big hole dug —or re-dug— on the other side of the Park Avenue bridge (the one under construction is on Chestnut). They appear to be in the process of connecting the new main to one that runs under the road. Leastways I could see ends of two mains, and someone with a wrench was doing something to a valve on the old one. Too noisy to talk to anybody. Besides, a fellow who appears to be idle might be spotting another worker.
Tried on my new linen jeans; they appear to fit nicely. Won't be sure until I get the waistbands on.
They've dug up this end of the new water pipe now. They worked overtime on the other end yesterday — they were closing the hole when we walked after supper.
Nothing but a patch of bare dirt showing where they were working on the pipe. I wonder whether they were connecting it; we got no laundry warnings.
Today's walk showed that the bridge builders had bolted the other big beam to the steel piles. And they are filling in dirt that covers the wooden wall — the steel piles are on the side that shows. But that will be under the bridge.
I've been searching the Web, but don't know the right terms to find out how much an astonishing huge beam carved out of a single tree costs. The folks who restored the log house at the fairgrounds say that they searched all over to find a tree big enough to cut into a replacement for a damaged log.
I spent today on the Sprawlmart loop — still no aged cheddar at Aldi. They did have the lovely little sweet peppers, but in a huge bag that two people couldn't possibly eat up before it spoiled.
Bought a bagel at Big Apple and ate it at Big R. I was in the mood for Taco Bell, but I don't think a taco salad would make a good sack lunch — especially after meat has been carried around for an hour or two on a warm day. Doing the loop the other way, so as to pass Taco Bell last, isn't an option: all left turns, and cross SR 30 twice.
Not to mention buying bread first, then frozen food, then hours of shopping for non-perishables.
I bought a set of four keychain-size markers at the dollar store. I suppose that that will make the missing Sharpies turn up. I thought I had put them in my bag, but they aren't there.
Our next step in organizing is to take everything out of the hall closet. It isn't quite like Fibber McGee's, but it's close.
I made pizza for supper, but it wasn't very good. And I burned the loaf of bread I made from the left-over dough. I think I'll try again on Sunday.
I passed up the beautiful miniature peppers at Aldi yesterday even though they don't have them often, because the bag was *huge*. Now I realize that I could have frozen half; they are really easy to clean.
One of the purses we cleaned out of the closet contained a Sharpie. I think I'll take most of those purses to the Goodwill so that I can find the ones that are left.
We were saying "??? The wires aren't in the way of the bridge building." After a while we realized that NIPSCO is replacing a pole.
Then when I walked down there, I saw that they *were* routing the wires farther from the bridge. There's a new pole at the bridge that's under construction, too.
I didn't mention that they've cut the ramp end off the sidewalk and thrown it into the creek. And left cones and caution tape where it was, to the great inconvenience of pedestrians. It will be at least two weeks before the other bridge is done, so I've been wondering why they needed to do it so early.
They've dumped a pile of dirt behind the piles on this side, and a pile of gravel appears poised to follow. On the other side, they were in the middle of installing the cable that connects the two end walls together at quitting time.
I haven't much more than thought about my sewing today, or anything else that's useful. Did go walking twice, but short walks both times.
Bacon sandwiches used up nearly all the tomatoes. Plan to buy more tomorrow — hope I don't forget to buy yeast on the way back, as I used up the last in the pizza and I want to try to make pizza right this Sunday.
Now that's more like it. But I should have skimped on the portabellas and the hungarian wax peppers. Pizza again next Sunday.
If the flour holds out.
While looking for something else, I discovered that KCVC is sponsoring cycling classes this September. I have until the first to decide whether I feel up to attending. Would have to buy a light, since the classes are in the evening.
Sorted through the purses we found in Fibber McGee's closet and filled a cat-litter bag to be taken to the Goodwill. I kept one white, one black, and my attaché case.
Still haven't unpinned the fabric I put up for a temporary curtain, and the print has grown on me. I've worked out a way to make it into a pleated curtain — with liberal use of unbleached muslin, since it's just barely long enough.
Washer just stopped washing.
Two half-loads — short week.
NIPSCO is still fiddling around at the bridge. And Dave just reported that the water company is digging that hole again.
At yesterday's after-supper walk, we saw piles of heavy dark-stained timbers and two piles of rip-rap, some of which had been installed on the other side of the creek. Couldn't see the bank on this side without ducking under the yellow tape, and there were a lot of children around.
I'm making gravy out of the sausage and mushrooms left over from the pizza for my breakfast. Dave isn't having any because of the carbs.
We're taking Al to the vet for a sore that won't heal, and later in the week Dave is seeing Dr. Dar for the same thing.
Poor Al has to get his ears cleaned twice a day for a week, and every day for another week. He's also getting antibiotics for the sores we showed the vet and one that he found.
And Al's claws are blunt. He gets clipped every time he sees his doctor — *after* the examination. Al is pretty calm about letting the vet and his assistant maul him around; he just lies there paralyzed until we open the cage door.
When the water company re-re-filed the hole, they left a plastic-coated wire sticking out, wrapped around a plastic pipe not much bigger than a garden hose, with a valve on the end. We're speculating that they mean to put in a drinking fountain, but that's an odd place for it. And what does a water pipe want with an insulated wire?
On the other hand, the antibiotic Al gets twice a day is supposed to be taken with food. I cut his treat in half, though, because he's also supposed to lose weight. Nothing strict, an ounce a year will suffice.
He takes the ear cleaning with surprising calm; I hardly have to brace him, and he hasn't kicked me. (Kicking when the ear is tickled is pure reflex, but up until recently he's been careful to position his feet before Dave starts poking around.) But his ears are cleaner to start with now, so it doesn't hurt as much.
The bridge is being pre-fabricated in the parking lot of the street-department building, and today we watched them lift the first section into place. When we went back after supper, another section had been installed. I think that there are three more. Dave put up photographs on his Web page.
He has also begun taking pictures of the other bridge, intending to document the whole process from the same angle.
A while back I was fooling around with Google maps and was delighted to see that Fort Wayne Street ends in Brannigin's parking lot — which is right across Center Street from an entrance to Sprawlmart, which meant that there was, after all, a good way to get from Owen's to Aldi.
So on the way back from dropping off some magazines at the emergency room, I looked at the bypass they are building from DuBois to Parker, came back by Parker, and looked into the Fort Wayne Street connection. Alas, what seemed on the map to be the end of the street is a private driveway, guarded all around with chain-link fence.
So it remains that if I'm on my bike at Owen's, the choices for going to Aldi are cross SR 30 on Parker, cross Center Street on Cleveland, or brave the swirlies on Center and the rumble strips on SR 30.
If I'm at Owen's, odds are that I've just bought something that has to be taken straight home, but I don't like gaps in my network.
Found enough unopened garlic-flower buds to season the soup tonight, but got (I think) all of them. The bees are working the blossoms —not to mention that the flowers are pretty— so I'm post-poning the pruning. Hope I don't wait too long and let them shed seed. I have way too many garlic chives despite harvesting plants by digging them out. And I'll throw away most of the flowers.
I'm in the middle of signing up for cycling classes at the Y. I almost chickened out when I saw that the second item required me to lie and say I've got gender. I AM NOT A NOUN. Or an adjective, even.
After I got clear to the end, and had filled in all of the blanks, looking up some of the required information — then, and not before, I learned that the classes are open only to members of the YMCA. So what were the "non-member" prices posted on the first page about? (All prices were $0.00, since the classes are sponsored by the KCVC.)
At least that explains why there wasn't any publicity or recruiting effort. I can't even find the trail that led me to the page I bookmarked.
The whole deck of the bridge in in place now, but there is work to be done on the railings, and the deck isn't connected to the street. According to the cuts on the pavement, there is going to be a lot more street torn up on this side before the job is done. I haven't thought to check for cuts and marks on the other side.
I'd guess that the new bridge and the girder that still spans the creek are about equally accessible to pedestrian traffic now. But one can get to the girder without ducking under the caution tape.
I'd better wrap August up and mail it soon!
When I downloaded my mail before leaving for the farmers' market, I found two posts to the Lafayette bike club's mailing list: each said, paraphrased, "the ride I was supposed to lead isn't exactly cancelled, but I'm not going."
Later Dave said that the rain in Lafayette was headed this way. The weather was sufficiently threatening when I left —raindrops kept falling on my head— to keep me reminded not to dilly-dally or make side trips, but the weather improved all the while and it's lovely out now. To look at; it's humid and warm.
Isaac looks rather disorganized on the radar. Still pretty soggy. Weather page says some of the places its raining on need it bad. Too late in the year to do a lot of good, I'd think.
Odd little circle at the intersection of the shore of the Gulf and the border between Texas and Mexico. It had broken up by the time Dave went to look.
Thin bagels are a wonderful idea — it would be an even better idea if they were bagels, rather than plain baked rolls.
Not bad, not bagels.
Just ran Search and Replace to change "--" to —. Man, I use a lot of dashes! Perhaps I should revise more.
Got the drafting board sorted out and put back into the closet today. There appeared to be about a peck of tools in a separate canvas bag, but once organized, they all fit into the pocket of the drafting-board case and I had two canvas bags left over. I did abstract a triangular ruler and put it into my pattern trunk.
Found evidence that Dave was the last person to use the drafting board. I told him that all the rulers are with my pattern-making stuff, but I doubt that he'll remember — it will probably be years before one of us wants to draft again.