Slept late; by the time I went to Aunt Millies and back, it was time for lunch. I celebrated the plentiful supply of bread by having a chicken- and turkey-salad sandwich.
When I put the bread away, I discovered that in addition to the remaining slice of bread, we had a bagel. Hardly any of the bread is in the bread bin — I've got to make space in the flour bin for twenty pounds of white wheat. Or find something more compact than a fifty-pound bag to keep it in.
I was disappointed last Saturday. At the pawn shop, I bought a $0.99 single-blade pocket knife thinking it had a 3.5" blade. Turns out that it has a crown-cap lifter at the base of a 2.5" blade. When was the last time you saw a crown cap? Not to mention that it's stainless steel, so the sharpening stone makes no impression on it whatsoever — one stroke on each side with the same stone and suddenly my carbon-steel knife can slice an over-ripe tomato.
We went to the First Friday chili cook-off tonight. For dessert, I bought a "cinnamon flatbread" expecting a cookie; it turned out to be fried dough rolled thinner and baked on a grill, then coated with cinnamon sugar and gobs of butter. We each ate half, and it was the perfect end to the meal.
When I came back from Aunt Millies, the bridge builders appeared to be getting ready to pave; when we drove by on the way to First Friday, it looked as though they *were* ready to pave, at least on this side. I'll get a closer look on my way to the bazaar tomorrow. There is considerable railing work to be done on the far side.
I absent-mindedly prepared pizza-dough mix tonight, thinking tomorrow was Sunday. I've been thinking that I should make lots of mixes, and freeze them in gallon bags. Half-gallon bags would be a better fit for five cups of flour, but I have yet to find any. I should look at Tractor Supply sometime; I think it's been over a year since I went out that way.
Hey, I can go riding next Saturday too — it's way past time I inspected the new roundabout at Zimmer and Old 30.
After the church bazaar —somewhat disappointing— I went to the health-food store next door, just because it was there, and bought some dried figs and toasted sunflower seeds. Then, since it was close, I went to the indoor flea market —"Trade'n Post" is the current name— found that the milk-glass loaf pans with a clear lid were still there, decided to take them, decided to tour the rest of the market before burdening myself with them, changed my mind again. We're trying to make *more* room in the cupboards, not less!
The Trade'n Post had a radio playing over the loudspeakers, and I heard an announcement that Center Lake Pavilion was also holding a bazaar, so I went there too. Bigger bazaar, but the same stuff. Except for kettle corn and "old-fashioned peanut brittle". The peanuts in hard candy were good, but obviously not what we used to call peanut brittle.
All I know about making the real thing is that you need a marble slab. And raw peanuts, because the syrup is hot enough to burn roasted peanuts.
I was indignant that the restrooms in Center Lake Park were closed for the season, and opined that when they invite a crowd *that* size, they should open them for one day. But then, it's likely that they have blown the pipes and put salt in the toilets, since there is no heat, and that would make a one-day opening unreasonable.
I came back by way of the boardwalk, and stopped at Owen's for salad. I was delighted to find that they had coarse-ground hamburger, and bought it for supper. It was *too* coarse-ground, though; I'd like something intermediate. I'll make hamburger soup out of the left-over meat Monday.
We had our next-to-the-last Farmer's Market tomato on the burgers.
I also stocked up on frozen entrees and bought a bag of oranges. It took us forever to use up the bag of apples, so I postponed buying fruit until only one was left, but we tore through the bag of tangerines, so I bought oranges sooner. At least I thought I did; when I got home, there was only one tangerine left.
I think I'll go eat an orange.
Dave's weather station says we had a three-mile-per-hour wind gust during the night. I wonder whether I'd have noticed if I'd been outside at the time.
I'm wishing the girder hadn't gotten in the way of the rip-rap; the loose dirt on the bridge might get into my shoes. Of course, I could go by way of Chestnut Street.
Thought I'd get off early today, but I didn't wake until 8:30, which would have been 9:30 if we were still on double-daylight.
No Saturday ride planned. Today is predicted to continue sunny, dry, and practically free of wind, so I'm inspecting the Zimmer Road roundabout *today*.
While pinning the ankles of my sweat pants, I saw the wash-out marker I'd given up and replaced lying between two boxes. My flat-bed plate may turn up yet! I hope it's soon; sewing without it is a pain.
I don't see where something that big can hide.
Went all that way to inspect the roundabout and didn't look at it. I was too busy navigating it. It's open to eastbound traffic on Old 30. I saw some cars turn right off Old 30 onto Zimmer while I was waiting my turn to turn right off Zimmer onto Old thirty, but didn't see what westbound traffic and left-turners did.
Had a two-piece chicken basket at Penguin Point for lunch (brought a thigh home) and planned to have an ice lolly at Avilla for dessert, but though they looked yummy — eat *ice*?
I did buy two bags of the addictive little peanuts, and a bag of paprika.
Turrible disappointment: I saw a flatbed loaded with what looked like paving equipment backing up Columbia Street when I crossed the Chestnut Street bridge on my way out. When I came back, the equipment was tearing up the parking lot at the town garage.
But the guardrails on the new bridge look mostly done. They were still working, so I couldn't look closely.
My right knee opined that I should have worn two pairs of wool tights, but didn't complain of overwork even though I went the long way. First time I've worn my cleats in months. Changed to walkers in Zimmer's parking lot — I'd planned to stay in country mode a bit farther, but I mistook a curb-ended parking space for a lane, and chose to walk rather than make a U-turn. Embarrassing because there was nothing to lean the bike against or sit on, and people kept thinking I'd fallen off and needed help.
Phend and Brown have taken over from Beer and Slaubaugh! Still can't see why the end of the sidewalk had to be cut off, but I haven't been to the far side of the creek since the pavers came. When I came back from voting, Phend &c. were still in the town garage parking lot, and the Beer &c. crew were looking at a large sheet of paper. I was tempted to cross the bridge, since none of the machinery was occupied, but chickened out and walked to the Chestnut bridge.
We went out before supper to watch the grinder working on the old asphalt. Later I walked through the living room while Dave was watching some sort of SF war movie on TV, and the "impressive" tanks on the screen looked *pitiful*.
You have to pay attention to feel the vibration when the grinder grinds, but it sets up earthquakes when it moves. I couldn't quite make out what it was doing to thump our feet. Wasn't when the grinder was lifted or set down, and there seemed no correlation to what it was rolling over. It had four short tracks mounted on swivels; it looked as though the thing could move sideways, but I didn't see it do it. During a quiet moment the driver shouted "You could have one of your own for five hundred thousand dollars."
It has a great long dinosaur neck for dumping the ground asphalt into a dump truck. On the way home, Dave speculated on what the grinding teeth might be made of. Whatever it might be, I'll bet that they have to change them frequently, and that it costs a whole bunch when they do.
I did four loads of wash today, only one full. Hung up the last one after Dave went to bed, partly because I left things soaking when I walked up the hill to vote, and partly because I forgot about it.
The full load was hot white no bleach, home-made soap. I dried the sheet and two pillowcases on the line — put the sheet back on the bed, and hung the cases on the rack with the indoor stuff.
Quite warm today; I thought my cotton-duck shirt enough coat for the walk, but wore wool tights under my jeans. Partly because my better hemp jeans were in the wash, so I was wearing thin linen-blend jeans.
Trimmed off the loose flap of toenail, and discovered that the nail has re-grown nearer to the end of my toe than I'd thought — it appears that the very base of the nail delaminated instead of breaking loose from the bed.
Finally found the reference to dropping the boat seat on my toe: the 18th of May. That makes it close to six months, and the scar is almost halfway to the end of the nail, so I estimate that it's growing a little faster than the predicted full year to replace a big-toe nail even though the end has been trimmed back almost into the quick — it took weeks for the scar to grow out from under the cuticle. (I'm not hunting for that reference because I distinctly remember forgetting to record it.)
And the nail beyond the scar represents three or four months of growth, so I calculate that I'll start filing it in a couple of months.
On the Fandom list, Keith Lynch reports that a very lucky encounter with a widowmaker while helping to clean up a storm-damaged tree left him in a position to report on how long it takes an avulsed thumbnail to grow back.
We should have accused him of stealing James Nicoll's schtick. In folklore, James gets into lethal situations frequently, but emerges from each with only an interesting scar. There is some truth in this picture, but there haven't been any additions to the Nicoll Event file lately.
No sign of life at the bridge today. We speculate that they are holding off for tomorrow's warmer weather.
The parking lot at the town garage sports a new coat of asphalt.
Went to Kroger for my prescriptions. There's some sort of legal reason I can't have the thyroxine until next Tuesday. Autofil gives me the other stuff two weeks early.
When I dressed for the ride, I found big red blobs on my wool jersey. Finally realized that it had to be ketchup that's been soaking in ever since I ate lunch at Penguin Point on Monday. I got as much off with a wet rag as I could, and when I got back, I rubbed the stains with Ivory and put it into the washer to soak. Now I'm washing it in vinegar to take the soap out.
One of Al's treat dishes was in the sink, so I used it to hold water to dip the soap in. Then I found that the stains were invisible under the fluorescents in the kitchen and set the dish on the living-room floor so I could use sunlight. Poor little Al couldn't understand why I kept batting his nose out of his dish.
Forgot the jersey and left it soaking in vinegar all night. Fortunately, it's all animal fiber except for a brass D ring.
And the stains didn't come out, but it needs to be in sunlight for them to show.
No signs of life at the bridge. Yesterday we thought they were waiting for today's warmer weather, today we don't know what to think. They are going to have to snap to it after lunch —or work on a Saturday— if the bridge is going to be finished this week.
This morning, I got some work done on a suit I've been making for two or three years. It's down to finishing now, but that includes two rows of topstitching inside a sleeve, and twenty eyes that have to be sewn by hand. And created in the process; there exist metal eyes that would wear longer and be quicker to install, but it isn't possible to buy them.
Veteran's day celebrated. The church celebrated on the actual day.
Not taking the actual day off gives schools a chance to go back to the habit of standing for a moment of respectful silence at exactly eleven, then getting back to the work of making the sacrifice worth-while — but I'd be surprised to hear that any did.
I expect the bridge-builders are glad not to work during our first snow of the season. Doesn't appear to be surviving contact with the ground, so far.
The leaf suckers are out despite the soggy leaves and the official holiday. And the Fellowship Committee is meeting tonight.
The first thing I said when I woke up yesterday was "I have a fellowship meeting at six this evening".
I forgot to go.
I did remember to mix up the pizza dough and set it to rise before going to bed for my nap.
Washed two loads of clothes yesterday. I think they'd have fit into one if I hadn't separated the darks and lights.
I picnicked on the Chinworth Bridge on Saturday, going south of the lake, then out Crystal Lake road to Parks-Schram. I meant to check out the Zimmer roundabout on my way back, but went to 30 on Hepler instead.
That's my longest ride since injuring my knee. I think I could take a longer one — if I get around to darning my winter cyclewear!
I suspect that I've had a sub-clinical infection the last few days. Managed to get the last seam finished on my new suit despite feeling un-motivated and loose of bowel. This will be a good time to do the boring hand work on it.
I took an acidophilus capsule. I doubt that it will do any good, but it can't hurt.
Hope I work up enough energy to pick up my Levothyroxine and buy something to feed Dave for supper.
Fortunately, he loves Michelena meatloaf. (But it's about time to replenish the supply of frozen entrees.)
I bought cube steak and some low carb (tiny) potatoes. I'm pretty sure there are some still in the garden, but I suspect that they have sprouted. And it's COLD out there! Also stocked up on frozen entrees and redeemed some coupons.
Noticed cracker-sliced cheese, and bought a butterdish of gouda, since we have lots of cheddar in other formats. It tastes like process cheese to me, but Dave likes it.
When I came in after shopping, I put my purse down on Dave's little green wagon — right next to a bag containing my missing bicycle shoes. A great relief; in addition to my usual difficulty in finding shoes that fit, the only way one can get slot cleats these days is to rip the cleats off clipless shoes —somehow; cleats are recessed these days— and nail on custom-priced cleats made of soft plastic. (And I used to complain that aluminum didn't wear well!) Not to mention that if I asked for a wooden sole, the salesman would look at me as if I'd just sprouted a third head.
I haven't the foggiest idea why I would put my shoes on Dave's wagon. They would have been tied to my panniers when I pushed the bike past the wagon.
I just traced Saturday's route on Google Maps. Frustrating until I realized that to make a loop, you need at least three "destinations". Google says that I rode 18.3 miles. Probably closer to eighteen and a half, since not all wobbles made it onto the trace.
Followed that up by poking around on the Yellow Jersey web site: lo and behold, they have two pairs of size 39 slot-cleat shoes @ $80/each. Probably too narrow for my 7 1/2 A/D feet, so it's a good thing I don't need them.
It's a lovely day for a bike ride, but I'm completely out of destinations. Perhaps I'll finish my new tunic at last.
Also learned that Yellow Jersey sells wool tights. But their former server —they carefully give the full name each time they mention it— erased all their Web software and they didn't have off-site backups, so it will be a long time before I can learn what sizes they come in without calling up Amuzi and asking him.
The wool jerseys he sells come in yellow! Only in "unisex", though. But I've worn men's jerseys before.
So I fed |"wool jersey" washable| into DuckDuckGo, and have been browsing fabric sites instead of sewing. Also found a lot of sites that want you to pay well north of a hundred dollars for a "bicycle jersey" without even telling you whether it's a track jersey or a road jersey. I suspect that those are all track jerseys, since adding pockets costs more.
One of the most-expensive "bicycle jerseys" advertises a brand of coffee! And I'm pretty sure that that one was only a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Heavens to betsy! I was searching the shelves for my box of elastic when I spotted Salenda Bailey's scrapbook — lying on top of a stack of magazines that had been piled up long, long after I first missed the scrapbook.
Now if I could find my transcription of some of the patterns in the scrapbook . . .
Bridge work appears to be in its final stage today. They are putting signs back, repairing grass, putting gravel on shoulders, etc.
I spent the morning describing my sewing instead of doing it. But I got my wool jersey darned and the pencil pocket moved yesterday, so I'm all set for a shopping tour tomorrow.
Wish I could find a pencil with a guard over the point, or a guard for a standard pencil. I hate getting graphite on my jerseys; it never washes out.
Speaking of stains: the good news: the remainder of the ketchup stains disappeared by themselves, as tomato stains sometimes do. The bad news: there's a faded spot every place I rubbed a stain with soap.
Didn't particularly want to go on a Sprawlmart tour, but it was Saturday, so I went. Came back exhausted, but with brats for supper and pepperoni to put on the pizza tomorrow. Was tempted by some sliced mushrooms, but they don't go with pepperoni as well as they go with sausage.
Strange event yesterday: when I came back to my bike after putting my shopping cart away, I found a twenty-dollar bill fastened to my brake cable with a hair clip. I left clip and bill on the handle of the door to the church secretary's office with instructions to forward it to the family in need we are helping out.
Overslept this morning, and breakfast was a protein bar and a fruit-and-grain bar eaten along the way. And I just now realized that I forgot to wipe the fridges and check the ice before going home — I usually do that before the service.
I guess the fog is thinner — I can see the house across the street. I'm very glad that I'm not going anywhere today!
No plans except to make devilled eggs this evening. I hope to make progress on my new suit.
Yesterday I put a dart up the outside of each leg on the sweat pants I slop around in, to make it easier to pull jeans on over them before going out into the cold. Just tried my jeans on, and it works.
I started the project Monday, in the intervals of doing the wash, on a different pair of pants. That one is in the closet with the darts still standing out like wings — I'll finish them the day I wash this pair of pants. I'll have to begin by picking out the last six inches of dart, because I also took the inseam in two inches at the ankle on this pair, and want to do the same on that pair.
Supper tonight was extra-thin crust pizza, light on the sauce, too many fresh mushrooms, too much sausage, three sliced mini-peppers, and a whole bag of mozarella.
We each ate three slices.
I froze enough dough to make another extra-thin shell, and made the remaining half of the dough into a dozen muffins. Froze six, two still on the table.
Calloo, Callay, oh frabjous day! Sometimes it pays to get confused.
To begin at the beginning, when I switched to a flat-screen monitor, there was room on the monitor stand for the tower to Joy98. So when we added JoyXP, there was space for its tower where 98 had been.
Today, when I tried to back up some directories onto XP, 98 went bananas, and when I tried to reset it, it switched itself off. When 98 proved strangely unresponsive to the reset button on XP, I tried to pull XP's tower out so I could see what I was doing, and the box the keyboard to XP sits on —I'm shopping! I'm shopping! 18"-high tables aren't all that common, and I'm insisting on storage space— the box was in the way, and when I moved the box, I discovered that my long-lost flat-bed plate had somehow slipped down between the keyboard box and the pile of boxes the monitor sits on.
Not shopping. Those boxes have to be someplace, and work just fine; no use to buy a monitor stand before I find someone who can use pinfeed multi-part paper. Not to mention that I won't honestly have space for a monitor stand until I get rid of the printer stand. (Yes, I tried putting the monitor on the printer stand. It's too tall for the lower shelf, and the upper shelf is too high.)
I could say I found the flatbed plate just in time, because I'll start a project that requires the Necchi as soon as the shirt I just washed dries — but the project is re-hemming the sleeves, which is what the free-arm was designed for.
But my wrists are smaller around than the free arm; I may put the flat-bed plate on anyway.
I did some free-arming on the treadle Saturday. The skirt I was hemming was wide enough to slip over the leaf that folds out to support the work.
The telephone got a workout today: calls to four different doctors. Dave's said he could wait until his next scheduled appointment; I have appointments for tomorrow at ten, Thursday at eight, and sometime in March. (It's written on the calendar, and also on the postcard from Grossnickle.)
I also have Fellowship Committee meetings at the church Saturday at 9:30 and Sunday at 8:00. I'm confident I won't forget to go, since that will be the first thing I do in the morning.
I *think* there is nothing strenuous scheduled for Wednesday and Friday.
I keep forgetting to stop at the teller machine on my way out of town, so when I realized that I had half an hour before supper, I put on my coat and walked down to get two fast fifties. I noticed red tape wrapped around the legs of the "you are here" sign that, when I got closer, turned out to be hand-knitted. On the way back, I saw other signs of the recent yarn-bombing, one rather pretty. The "bombs" were closely spaced, as if the bombers started at the you-are-here sign and worked their way south until they ran out of yarn.
Not much wash today: one load of blacks, one of lights. Stuff dried really fast; it must be time to start using the humidifier.
Not to mention that I've been sneezing for several days.
Whole day yesterday going to the dentist. Yes, there was something wrong where it felt funny — another chip out of the tooth that broke last time. All this chipping is probably weak spots left when I bashed my face on a theater seat about half a century ago. And he smoothed off the bump on the cutting edge of the tooth. Still feels funny when I lick it, but it no longer bumps the lower tooth when I incise something. What I'm feeling now, I think, is simply that the tooth has a corner.
I couldn't see the bump in the vastly-magnified picture at all, which surprised me; it felt like Mount Everest.
I was home by lunchtime, but slept the whole afternoon. Fawchunately, I'd put a brat and a can of beans in the rice cooker on "keep warm", so sleeping until it was almost time to serve supper worked fine.
Tomorrow I have to roll by 7:30 to keep my 8:00 appointment, preferably 7:15, and that means getting up at 6:30. I'm not looking forward to it. Especially now that going to bed early no longer works.
Up at 6:30, home about the time I usually wake up.
I was sped through Women's Imaging with their usual efficiency, but I stopped for potatoes and carrots at Owen's on the way back. Also got a small chuck steak and some smoked turkey suitable for making bean soup: tonight's supper and tomorrow's are *planned*!
I enjoy cooking, but I'm getting burned out on meal planning.
Hence pizza every Sunday. But not next Sunday because of the all-church dinner. I've decided to take potato salad.
And though it's only half past ten, it's nap time.
I absent-mindedly took my calcium pill with breakfast. Since I'd taken levothyroxin at four-thirty and it was only seven, I shouldn't have. But there's probably a big margin for error in the four-hour restriction.
Grumblygripe. About bedtime, I remembered that celery seed is good in bean soup, and I like it soaked overnight with the beans. We haven't got any. I'd discovered earlier that we have no mustard seed.
Spent the afternoon reading The Scent of Magic by Andre Norton.
I read tomorrow's xkcd before going to bed — and cried. Well, misted up a little.
I have the whole day to sew in — got distracted correcting a web page, here it is nap time, and I haven't even changed the needle in the sewing machine.
Dave did a lot of work on the photographs on his Web pages this morning.
I did get a little mending done before bedtime.
Spent the morning at the church helping set up for the decorating party tomorrow. I'm taking potato salad — a tablespoon of salt was *way* too much; I'm hoping the potatoes will pull the salt out of the dressing overnight.
Ran into an example of chore ballooning — someone said "oh, we forgot to put salt and pepper on the tables" and I said "I'll do that" — turned out that all the empty shakers I left in the drawer were dirty; I don't think they had *ever* been washed. So now the drainer is full of salt shakers, which I hope will be aired out by morning. But if they are humid, I guess it won't matter since we don't plan to use them right away, and there are holes in the lids. There were two that I couldn't clean by shaking or stirring with a spoon handle. I should have brought them home so that I could shake sand in them, but I just now thought of using sand.
I've been reading the old-programmers' newsgroup, and they have been reminiscing about early portable computers. One of the first was "portable" because its modules would fit into a freight elevator!
While looking around for a brush, I remembered Q-tips, and now the salt shakers sparkle. Good — it's much too cold and wet to go down to the beach for sand.
I could have gotten Q-tips from one of the first-aid kits or the Kiddy Kollege office!
Left-over bean soup for supper. I made corn muffins — and noticed the egg I'd meant to put into the batter when I was half-way through filling twenty-four tiny muffin cups. Came out quite edible anyway, though five minutes late because I didn't allow enough time for filling the muffin tin.
I like bite-size muffins. We ate more than a quarter of them with our soup, and I had several for my bedtime snack — some with sour cream, some with peanut butter and pickle.
And more muffins for breakfast, some with sour cream, some with butter.
Had an interview with our financial advisor this morning. Things are mostly going well.
Oops! I just realized that this is last month's Banner. Better spell-check and mail