Well, all I got out of that was the walk. I wanted to go to the Trailhouse and buy bottles yesterday, but with this and that I didn't get around to it until after they closed for the day. So I put my debit card in my pocket and walked to the teller machine instead.
So this morning I decided to go first thing, and as long as I'm downtown when the shops are open for a change, I'll tour the Village at Winona.
Called Dave as I passed Evangel Hill, because our internet access was out and there were two Comcast trucks parked on Park Street just past the intersection. We nattered until I got to the Trailhouse. Dave had started scans on all his computers, so he downloaded my mail —I had left Thunderbird running— and discovered that we were back on line.
Trailhouse was closed, but it was barely past ten, the owner of the shop next door was just arriving, and the back door of the Trailhouse was open. I went on to tour downtown, but didn't go in anywhere except the surf shop, and that was rather dull. There was a display of canvas slippers, each with a sign that said "These aren't shoes — they're SANDALS!"
Which got me to look at them, but did the opposite of inclining me to buy.
The Trailhouse still had the "closed" sign up when I came back. I guess they open at eleven instead of ten like the rest. I wonder why they don't post their hours like everybody else? They used to; I distinctly remember reading the sign, and being disgruntled because they weren't open when they said they would be. Perhaps there is my answer: if you are going to open at random times, you're better off not pretending to predict it.
After starting to walk toward the Greenway, I backtracked to go around the Light Rail Cafe. All the "1000 Park" signs were gone, even the one painted on the awning, but there was no hint of new signery. I thought sure that when they took the hanging sign off its hooks they would have a new one ready to hang up instead.
I suggested having breakfast there this morning, but Dave said he wanted to let them practice first.
So I went back at noon, found the Trailhouse still closed — but the front door was standing open so I went in and asked "Is that sign supposed to say "closed"? Nope, they were already open both the times I went by earlier.
And then they were out of California Springs bottles; I bought a screw-top bottle that had no brand except a sketch of a goblet and a three-tined fork with the left and middle tines detached, which sketch looks like a three-digit number —257 or 259— when viewed without magnifying glasses.
Since my next ride will be a short one, with a place to get water along the way, and there shouldn't be much call for carrying ice after that, one bottle should be enough until spring.
Another disappointment: I cut through the playground on the way, noticed that there was nobody around, reflected that I was wearing old jeans, climbed the steps of the spiral slide, sat down, scraped my jeans on a seam that has needed welding all summer, and scooted into the chute.
And I not only didn't slide, it was difficult and awkward to push myself down. No wonder so many of the children play with the slide by walking up the chute!
And then I went to the water fountain for a drink and it wasn't working. I know that we are going to get a spiffy new playground Real Soon Now, but they *could* do a *little* maintenance on the one we've got!
I've gone on longer rides and come back sooner. I got back barely soon enough to warm a piece of kielbasa in a can of hot-dog chili sauce for supper.
Google Maps says it was only 14.1 miles, but I walked around in Meijer for nearly two hours. Since I can walk a half mile in ten minutes without working at it, I think it conservative to say that I got exercise equivalent to a three-mile walk. Walking slowly, after all, is harder work than walking at one's natural pace. There is no place to sit down except for the single bench at each entrance, so I was walking almost all of the time.
A century ride is regarded as equivalent to a marathon run, and twenty-six miles is close to one-fourth of a hundred, so a three-mile walk is equivalent to a twelve-mile ride. I'm going to count this ride as a quarter century.
I see by the map that instead of following 200 N to 175 E I could have turned onto Vicky Lane. This street appears to be slightly shorter than the bits of 200 N and 175 E that it bypasses, and would be more interesting.
For details, see: http://joybeeson.home.comcast.net/~joybeeson/LINKS/IMAGES/pikemap.jpg
The back-and-forth on 30 represents visits to Staples, Big R, and Aldi.
I've just figured out how to make a screenshot into a jpg. Which I would never have thought about if I hadn't had to learn how to print screenshots in order to hardcopy map snippets. I'm *sure* it used be possible to plot a route and then print it for reference. In fact, I have several map snippets that are *not* printed screenshots.
Instead of carrying cleated shoes, I should have carried house slippers. I meant to wear walking shoes in the city and change for the trip back through the country, but there was a stoplight-infested bit getting from Meijer to Anchorage Road, no convenient place to change after I'd gotten onto country roads, and no hill steep enough to make me want cleats, so the spare shoes were excess baggage.
On the other hand, soon after I entered Meijer, my right arch started to hurt and I knew that if I kept walking in stiff shoes it would get sore, so I put my shoes in my cart and was grateful that the floor was so clean that I didn't get my socks dirty. But I hadn't been walking on cold tile long before my arch started to ache from chill. I looked for house slippers in the shoe department and didn't find any, so I settled for warming one foot on the other now and again.
I'd planned to have lunch in Meijer's snack bar, but they not only didn't have one, they didn't have tables and chairs near the deli department the way Kroger and Marsh do. It turns out that a fried chicken wing isn't very satisfying without a table; I did have a bench to sit on, but a napkin on your lap lets all the yummy crumbs fall to the floor. I also bought a package of vegetarian sushi rolls, thinking that they wouldn't have any fish in them. I forgot that fermented seaweed tastes fishier than fish. I ate one and brought the other five home. (I had two bottles of ice in my cooler.) Luckily, I'd brought meal bars in case of just such an emergency, and a bottled-water bottle half full of milk. There was a trash container conveniently near the bench, so I didn't have to carry the milk bottle and candy wrappers.
Grumbly gripe. I tried to renew _Cyclecraft_ and all of a sudden my library card number doesn't work. I tried it with and without spaces and with and without the 1 on the end (which I suspect of being a checksum), several times each. Then I closed the connection and re-loaded the Web page. Still no dice.
It's raining today. I've got a pile of interlock down off the shelf and mean to cut out a pair of slippers.
And I was wearing the slippers at bed time.
Went to Owen's today, and was disgruntled when a coupon I'd gotten with my register tape on a previous visit caused me to waste five minutes hunting up and down the frozen-food aisles for a non-existent product. I was even more disgruntled when I got caught in heavy rain while passing through the village on the way home, but Dave said that it had been raining for ten minutes — I had ridden into it instead of being overtaken.
My socks are still damp, so I had to put on a fresh pair to go to First Friday.
Account access on the library's Web site has been disabled (presumably part of Congress's sit-in), so I couldn't renew my book, so I meant to take it back on Saturday, but forgot. I'm going to rack up some fines before it's convenient to make a special trip.
Perhaps I forgot because I was rushed, trying to get gone and back again before the rain started. I made it with hours to spare, but today it sprinkled all the way to church and back. NWS says that tomorrow will not be a good day for drying clothes.
My anti-corn measures have been working so well that I'm going to have to start cutting the moleskin into bigger pieces. There is no longer a hard spot telling me exactly where to put it.
When I potted the lemon grass, I left the pot and its saucer on the picnic table, and the saucer filled up with rain. I plan to bring the rosemary and lemon grass in for the winter this evening, so I emptied the saucer — and found that it contained one leaf each of sycamore, oak, maple, and cottonwood.
When I brought in the plants, Al chowed down on the lemongrass. Alarmed, I DuckDuckGoed |"lemon grass" cats| and the first hit said that lemon grass is just like catnip, and should be grown as a safe treat for your cat, but give him some catnip and wheat grass too, and don't let the essential oil anywhere near him.
So now I'm going to have to find a flower pot to plant wheat in.
Dave came into the sewing room while I was reading Indiana Code 0-21-17, and I told him that I broke the law every week: it's illegal to walk across an intersection diagonally unless you are told to do so by a traffic-control device.
Whereupon he remembered seeing an intersection where pedestrians did cross diagonally, and I did too, but neither of us could remember when or where. We've pretty much ruled out everywhere we've been.
I'd think there would be very few places such a system would make sense: crossing with whichever light is green, then waiting for the green on the other street can't take any longer than waiting for the pedestrian phase of a three- way cycle.
Perhaps it's used to clear the way for right turns when there are enough pedestrians to block the street for the length of a green. Having the pedestrians spread out over the entire intersection would enable the backlog to clear.
I dried all the clothes indoors today — Dave's jeans and shorts are still hanging in the hallway. I did take the sheet out, saying one item would be easy to bring in in case of shower, but it was whipping so bad that I brought it in and hung it on the bathtub's shower-curtain rod. It was nearly dry by then.
Ugh. My Meijer moleskin is harder to peel off than the other brands I've been using.
Didn't help that I forgot to remove it after yesterday's ride.
I can see the dust specks in the sunbeam easier than I can see what I'm typing. I can also see the dust snap to the screen when it gets close.
On Monday I noticed my new slippers lying on the bed, which reminded me of cold feet in Meijer, and after a while I conceived the idea of going to Walmart by circumnavigating Pike Lake instead of Center. Which I set out to do on Tuesday.
The northbound shoulder of SR 15 between Anchorage and 250, by the way, is surprisingly clean. And traffic allowed me to get into the left-turn lane instead of making a U turn on Anchorage as I usually do when going to Walmart.
I started by going into every shop in Kohl's Plaza — I actually went farther north than that, being curious about a peculiar building I noticed before turning into Kohl's driveway, but there was no sign except one that said that tours could be arranged. I think maybe it's a sample of a proposed apartment complex. It would be very ugly as an apartment building, but there *was* a patio umbrella sticking up from one of the roofs.
While I was trying to get to Kohl's without going back the way I came, I met a pedestrian who had the same destination, having come two hours early for a medical appointment. I told her there was a ditch in the way, and I thought the wooded areas might conceal swamp, so we both went by way of Sheldon Street. We met again in TJ Max.
I meant to do the whole complex, but when I finished with Walmart, it was five o'clock and I was tired — probably low blood sugar, as I perked up after taking two starlight mints. On the other hand, I always feel better on the bike. Anyhow, I skipped Lowe's and crossed Detroit on CR 250 intending to go straight home. It wasn't until I saw Rainbow Drive where I expected Sunset Drive to be that I remembered that I was on the wrong side of 30. Bell Drive led pretty quickly to Anchorage, which is a better route than getting to Anchorage on 15, but I was confused until I saw the Wong place.
I ate my cream cheese on granola-bar sandwich and drank my half-bottle of milk on the bench at the end of the Beyer Farm boardwalk.
I usually take my helmet off while eating, but the concrete around the bench was covered with walnuts with crushed husks, and another smacked down while I was parking.
Then I went to Owen's and bought, among other things, a package of six sushi rolls and a bag of salad, having forgotten that Dave intended to leave for New York this morning.
Which isn't near as bad as Dave forgetting that he'd postponed his departure until today because he had an appointment with Dr. Darr yesterday. He said they said no sweat, there was also a snafu at their end, and re-scheduled it for after his trip.
I forgot to tell Dave that I'd seen day-glo nail polish at the beauty-supply store in Kohl's plaza. He'd wondered where baseball catchers got the signal paint they put on their nails.
When I got to Walmart, I discovered that they had put tanks of LP gas in my parking spot. I found an un-occupied piece of fence a considerable distance from the entrance — then saw that there is an excellent place right in front, between a cart corral and a patch of landscape. I didn't move the bike.
I did wear my star-spangled slippers while in Walmart — I hope none of the "people of Walmart" perverts were lurking that day.
I bought their very last stick of Neutrogena Wet Skin Kids, which I plan to start using when I've finished my bottle of Neutrogena Age Shield Face.
And I bought a quart-size Rubbermaid water bottle. Because it's square, it takes hardly any more room in my pannier than the pint bottle I bought at the Trailhouse, and it cost less than half as much. The flat sides should be easier to pack food around, too.
I hope it doesn't leak when lying down. The lids appear to fit tightly.
Google Maps says the trip was 12.5 miles. Much to my surprise, it came very close to showing the route I went with just the destinations. I put in two way points to make it go by way of the boardwalk, and didn't fuss over trying to move the outward leg from Lincoln Street to Harrison; the two streets are mostly parallel.
I've pretty much frittered away today. I cooked a lunch, moved the tomato into the sun a few times, transcribed some notes, and put two cups of rice into the rice cooker, planning to have some of it at suppertime in gravy left over from lunch. At nine, I need to feed the cat and wash his back — not in that order.
And Real Soon Now I'm going to clean the litter box.
Brrrly shiver. When I went out to throw turds at the mock-orange bush, a man and three dogs were frolicking in the lake.
NIPSCO is trimming the mulberry tree.
When I went out later, the mulberry was untouched and there were fresh cuts on a tree across the street. So why did they ask *my* permission?
While I was out there, I pulled some of the dead stalks and ground ivy out of the lily bed, and got a splinter in my palm. Didn't notice it until it had turned red, but it seems clean this morning.
On our last trip to the vet, I learned that peroxide is great for cleaning fresh wounds and infected wounds, but shouldn't be used on wounds that have started to heal because it will kill regenerating cells.
While wondering what to have for breakfast, I got a radio message from the section emergency co-ordinator promoting pumpkin patrols. Practice and propaganda all in one! While nattering with the fellow who relayed the message, I said that I didn't have a group because I don't go out after dark, and he offered to put me on his mailing list, which sometimes offers daytime exercises. So I guess the emcom courses are catching up with me — I hope that I remember some of it.
After breakfast, I plan to open out the eating table and clutter it with sewing stuff.
Cleared the table, realized that as long as I was moving furniture I should sweep the kitchen, broom and dustpan in hand, I remembered that the bedroom has needed sweeping badly for days . . .
When it was time to give Al his nine o'clock back scrub, I had to take him into the living room to put him on the table. Broom and dustpan still on the floor, which needs mopping.
Forgot to bring the tomato in until it was clear dark again. This time I took a flashlight. Will take a different one next time; this one is too feeble to use outdoors, particularly the red LED — red must be meant for signalling, rather than for preserving one's night vision.
I picked a tomato, intending to eat the others and save the fresh one for Dave, but it has a crack and decay has started, so I'll have it for breakfast. But another has started to turn, and it's bigger.
I took a walk just before suppertime. I didn't walk at all yesterday, so I made a point of going right after my nap, and went around the village. The cute little VW beetle is still sitting out in the rain; I wish someone would buy it.
The last time I was in Staples, I looked at the laptops and saw a small one for about a hundred dollars, and the keyboard was no worse than other laptops. I was getting rather excited until I noticed that it comes loaded with software I have no use for, and you can't change it. Seems to be discounted because it's a terminal just for connecting to — I don't think it was Amazon. Maybe Google.
With short, wide screens being all the rage, you'd think someone would manufacture the laptop I invented the day the TRS-80 MOD II was delivered: take a decent keyboard and stuff the computer inside it.
My garden being in dire need of a load of stable litter, my onion harvest was undersized. Now that every meal serves one, I've been making inroads into the little onions.
It was after noon before I realized that it Columbus Day. Oddly, it isn't marked on the calendar.
Just checked again: it's marked, but they are off by two days.
Having washed my new bottle yesterday, I tried it out today. Works great, there was still enough ice in it on the way home to keep my cheese and smoked sausage cold, and it was easy to pack stuff around it. But every inch of the way the ice went rattle-rattle-rattle. If I think to pre-chill water next time so that the ice stays packed tight for a while, and fill the bottle level full, that might help.
I wanted to make a little ride out of the trip, so I planned to inspect the Zimmer Road roundabout after going to the Farmer's Markets, come back on Lake Street to inspect Avilla and the Open Air Nursery, then cut through Center Lake Park to Chinatown Express for lunch, and come home past the hospital to drop off a couple of newsletters. I have some books also, but didn't want to haul a book almost all the way round the loop when I wanted the pannier space for purchases.
Things went as planned on the outward leg. Not much left of the fairground market, but I bought a bag of apples. I stopped at the indoor flea market and did a loop, since I had plenty of time before noon. Most of the interesting stuff was stuff I'd seen before.
It took me all of two minutes to do the downtown market. (I meant to record my travel times for future reference, so I marked arrival and departure in my notebook.) Then west on Center and north on Zimmer, through the roundabout — and a panicked right turn into the first side road; actually a parking lot with an exit onto the side road. The new lanes are still not ready for prime time.
This isn't my usual entry point into the residential streets, but I don't need no steenking map; just head west and keep Old Thirty a block to my left.
Somehow I got turned a hundred and eighty degrees, and just as I'd decided I was in the Twilight Zone because Old Thirty couldn't be *that* far north, I came out on Center Street.
A U turn — the street I was on was practically deserted, it being a main thoroughfare for places that close on Saturday. All the way back again, out to Old Thirty by way of a technically-closed street: GAAH! This newer part of the construction is even worse than what sent me fleeing in panic back by the roundabout. Another U turn, another trip the full length of Letter Drive — well not quite; I turned off on Kessler, which took me through a gravel parking lot back to Center.
Still determined to check out Avila, I went by the route I take when coming from the east. No change; most of the broken glass has been cleaned off the parking lot and alleyway. Safe for car tires, but I walked the bike. Thence downtown. The shortcut through the park to Chinatown Express worked exactly as advertised, and I wondered why I'd never before noticed this *boulevard* across the street from Chinatown Express. But I'd hate to try to cross Detroit on a weekday. As a vehicle, crossing is simply forbidden: right turns only. So I got off and walked. Ran, rather, the holes in the traffic are rather small.
Went behind the buildings until the first chance to cross the railroad. I got from the hospital to Owen's by way of Harrison street. Easier than my usual route through the residential area, but less interesting.
I put two of my fried dumplings into a bag when the previous dumpling was only half-eaten — easier to resist the urge to nibble just one more that way. The ice in my new bottle chilled them right down when I put them into my pannier, and when I got home I concluded that I liked them better cold. The noodles are chewier chilled, and the stuffing is more inclined to stay inside.
For supper I had a chef salad with pepperoni, a slice of the colby I bought at Owen's West, half a banana pepper, a sprinkle of sesame-seed oil, just a little blue-cheese dressing, and one of Dave's Black Krim tomatoes. I mostly ate the tomato separately.
Google Maps says the ride was 12.1 miles. I didn't attempt to include the triple pass over Letter, and I let it take a shortcut on the way back from Avila. There was no substantial walking.
I didn't want to clear the table, where I had emptied my pockets upon return, so I thought I could just kneel down and wash Al's back while he stood on the floor. Big mistake. If his feet are on the floor, I must be intending to feed him, and he is not going to stand still for anything else.
But I got his back slopped with water and toweled him off, then caught him long enough to add a blob of antibiotic. Not quite as *precise* a blob as usual, but I think I covered the sore.
I'm just getting around to reading Friday's paper. When listening to the scanner, I've often said "Are they running a jail or a hospital?", and then reflected that it's only unusual events that get discussed on the radio and the only sort of emergency you can have in a well-run jail is a medical emergency.
But the top story in Friday's paper says that the sheriff has been asking the same question. The state has been sluffing off medically-expensive inmates onto the counties.
When I went back to reading papers, Al jumped into my lap and said "rrrRrrrRrrrRrrr", which translates to "Lap! Lap at last!", but after a minute or two he said "It's just not the same" and went for a snack of dry food.
I don't think that the chef salad I had for supper was enough, even though I put some woven-wheat crackers in it. I thought to use sesame oil and the left-over fried-dumpling sauce instead of salad dressing, but there were only a few drops of the sauce, so I added "basalmic" vinegar. Tasted great, looked like dirt. They put in caramel color to make it look like the real thing.
Harrumph. The bottle claims that there is nothing in it but wine vinegar and boiled-down grape must. Must have scorched it a little while boiling it down! (There's worlds of sugar in must; plenty for making caramel.)
A bagel and three slices of liverwurst wasn't enough for supper, so I warmed up the left-over broth from lunch and cooked the other half of the ramen-noodle in it, and that was too much.
It's only seven-thirty, and Al is nagging me for his nine-o'clock treat. I wonder whether it would help if I made a lap?
I have discovered that if, right after peeling off my moleskin, I coat the spot with Aquaphor, let it soak while I'm greasing the other foot, and rub vigorously with a dry washrag, all the goop and ravellings come right off.
I presume that any grease would do, but Aquaphor is within reach from where I sit to change my shoes.
Oh, like wow! I just counted up my cash and found only $3.31 in unrecorded expenses.
Had pancakes for supper. A quarter cup each of red-wheat flour and oat bran, measured by dipping and shaking, half a teaspoon of baking powder, half a teaspoon of cinnamon sugar, measured by dipping and not shaking, a quarter teaspoon of lite salt (KCl & NaCl), and half a cup of milk. Dropped by teaspoons and eaten with butter.
I think the cinnamon sugar was at least as much cinnamon as sugar. I think I'll have to look up the official proportions.
About all I did today was to sew a couple of snaps on a shirt I need for a light jacket on the trip to Nancy's. I still need to sew twenty bar-eyes on the pants I want to wear.
Hadn't had any exercise since Sunday, so I walked to the teller machine and got two "fast fifty"s. Wore my windbreaker because it's supposed to rain —I don't think we've gotten a drop— and I got so hot that I took it off halfway home.
I was wondering how people ever managed to pack before the invention of zippered plastic bags. Probably just didn't pack cell-phone chargers! And it used to be that people who needed this many pills didn't feel up to travelling.
But I'm also using a snack bag to keep my thread, needles, and thimble together.
And if I'm going to wear pants tomorrow, I'd better stop typing and start sewing on hooks and eyes.
Dave, when last heard from, was in Ashtabula. He might get here any minute.
Today was gloriously sunny, and the rest of the week is predicted to be wet with flakes of snow — so I drove the car to the grocery store. Been quite a while since I did that; I spent ninety-six dollars and ten cents *without* stocking up on frozen dinners as I'd meant to do. Then I called Dave and went back for a pint of ice cream.
(Time out to snitch a spoonful of ice cream.)
I'm rather pleased with Martins. Among other things, the check-out opened the carton of eggs and peeked at them before ringing them up.
My only gripe is that the thermal coating on the register tapes reacts with my vermilion pencil to make the marks brown. (We put an orange Q on receipts that have been entered into Quicken.)
On the other hand, the computer in the register sorts the entries by department, which makes a split easier to enter. Yesterday, for example, I bought a pair of folding "readers" (magnifying glasses).
I'd been looking for those for a long time, but yesterday I was looking for round pocket pillboxes — I'd tried to buy a spare while packing to go to Michigan, and found that plain round boxes had been displaced by fancy square boxes. The pillbox spinner had a display of clearance folders, and they had one 3.0 left, so I bought it even though I buy 3.5 and would prefer 4.0. (I like to see individual threads when I'm doing fine handwork.)
They are flimsy, fussy to fold and unfold, and tricky to get into the case, but I won't be carrying them except when I don't expect to need magnifiers, so I shouldn't be folding them very often. I think I'll continue carrying the blue pair on the bike, as the hard case stands up to knocks; I may carry the folders only when wearing Sunday clothes.
I haven't pulled my magnifiers out of my pocket lately; the last few ingredient lists I read were printed black on white, in type bigger than five points. I hope this is a trend.
This morning I was plotting to make lasagna for supper, and realized that with all the stuff I had bought, I hadn't bought any cheese. But I've been thinking that we should use up the last inch of the Colby mini-horn quickly, and when you're using salsa for sauce, you don't really need mozarella.
Then I noticed the ramen in the cupboard, and reflected that one could make a lasagna-like casserole with those, too.
All the combinations that spring to mind are too carby for old folks; if I eat macaroni and cheese, I want it to be worth the grease-and-starch hit. With lasagna, I can skimp on the noodles and be generous with the meat and vegetables.
I may up and fry onions to put into it. I discovered frying onions before you put them into soup only a few months ago, and it's threatening to become the equivalent of the "whisk of smooth ruin" surgically attached to Schlock Mercenary's cook.
If'n you don't read Schlock Mercenary: http://www.schlockmercenary.com/index.html The story has very long arcs, but it advances by gag-a-day, so you shouldn't have to read all the archives to get into it.
I knew before I finished assembling the lasagna that I'd barely fried half enough meat —and after I'd typed "generous with the meat"— but didn't think of using the other skillet to fry up another batch.
I didn't have another thawed hamburger patty, but they do tend to thaw fast when thrown into a smoking skillet. Well, if it doesn't turn out edible, there's still a piece of the cold fried chicken I bought at Martins.
The lasagna turned out well, but it would have been better for us with a lower proportion of noodle. There's just enough left for a lunch or breakfast. I make a small lasagna with three of Barilla's lasagne in a toaster-oven size cake pan. Barilla's lasagne are thin enough that you don't have to pre-cook them.
It looks pleasant out there, but the National Weather Service says 40% chance of rain and too cold to risk getting wet. I haven't gotten any exercise except walking to church since getting back from Michigan, though I did make a point of walking through every aisle in Martins.
I went on a Sprawlmart tour Friday. Managed to spend over forty dollars at Aldi even though all that was on my list was two jars of salsa, and I arrived with loaded panniers, having bought shoes, cat food, and two bagels and a twisted roll on the way. I did buy cheese!
But no lunch meat. Dave thought of having Spam on the bagels, and it was delicious. We nibbled away the twisted roll, some pieces with butter and some without. There's one more bite left, but I don't think it will be good in the morning. (Well, this is morning, but I plan to go back to bed.)
I also looked over the washing machines at Sears. I learned that one must look at dials carefully: some of what appeared to be dials were equivalent to what web designers call "radio buttons". I didn't find the option of letting the machine time a soak. I did find one machine that had rinse twice as an option, but it was on clearance and a sign warned that it was defective. Perhaps those two cancel out: it might not have been discontinued.
All those that I looked inside had no-post agitators. Or maybe it's no agitator; I haven't inquired as to how those machines work.
Much to my surprise, I got hungry before leaving Sprawl One, so I got a Taco Bell Taco Salad for a change. I like Taco Bell, but not enough to go back two sprawls. I usually buy a sandwich in Sprawl Two and eat it in Sprawl Three, since I'm also quite fond of Big Apple bagels.
I looked at the Kroger ad before leaving for the farmers' markets. I was surprised to see cider from two different varieties of apple; I'd never seen variety on a jug of cider.
Oops. I was planning to go to Bonneyville Mills and buy flour on Monday, but their web site says that they are open Wednesday through Sunday. And they close for the winter on Thursday, so it's possible that they won't open this week at all.
Or there might be a big do for Halloween.
I woke up in plenty of time to have a cooked breakfast before church, but in two unrelated decisions, I bought a quart of half-and-half and a bunch of bananas yesterday, so I was determined to have dry cereal.
I *am* about to engage in a one-mile walk. I don't think that makes up for the butterfat, though.
I was planning to go to Bonneyville Mills tomorrow, but I checked their website and they are open Wednesday through Sunday, May through October.
So I'm planning to go Wednesday. If they've decided that a two-day week isn't worth it and closed for the winter, I can take a hike on the trails. And stop in Middlebury to shop for socks.
It took me three tries to remember how to pin a wool scarf around my head.
Dave just discovered that there was a Wabash Cannonball round trip from Fort Wayne to Lafayette yesterday. But the tickets sold out within minutes, so we probably couldn't have gone even if we'd known about it. We are seriously considering joining the club in case they do it again.
Bigger wash than usual. Our neighbors, who are moving out, put a nice splint hamper filled with big thick towels out for the trash. I don't need any towels, but I couldn't let them go to the landfill. (Anybody want a really-big basket?)
Also picked out a few things that I intend to take to Goodwill tomorrow. I keep forgetting to take the old food processor when I go out that way, so I'm going to make a special trip. I'll stop by Aunt Millies on the way back and stock up on bread. I *should* arrive at Aunt Millie's Outlet with empty panniers, but the last time I engaged in recreational shopping, I found a pair of shoes that fit. They don't fit well enough to hike in, but I take all my long walks on surfaces where sandals are enough. When it snows, I wear my boots.
Oops! I forgot to take the white clothes in yesterday evening. They didn't get rained on, but are damp with dew. Since I'm planning to start a Sprawlmart tour along about now (still have to comb my hair and put on my jersey), I brought them in and have them hanging on racks.
I think something perched on the clothesline and dug its claws into the sheet. Birds have done worse to sheets on the line.
We salvaged more stuff from the movers than would fit into my panniers —I have an animal carrier full of household linens bungeed to my rack— but Dave is planning to go to Our Father's house when he's through swapping out glasses. The box of glasses contained some he wanted, and some we liked better than what we already had.
I figured that the trash men wouldn't take the dining table and it would have a few more days to find a new owner, but I saw them throwing its legs into the truck. It wasn't a good table, Dave says. I didn't even look closely enough to verify that it's a table.
I meant to take a closer look at the table on my way out, to see whether I agreed with Dave, but it appears that the trash men did take it.
While I was combing my hair, I noticed a conspicuous stain on the front of my jersey, and rubbing it with a wet rag only made it brighter. And I don't have another long-sleeved wool jersey, so I had to go out that way. What makes it *really* aggravating is that it would have been no trouble at all to wash it yesterday.
On the other hand, I decided to postpone the yellow wash, so I've got a load to wash it with.
Pity my undershirt is black — it's sweaty, and I don't like my other one nearly as well. A white undershirt looks so undershirty.
Dave had gone out again when I got back. Al looks tired, and his rash is blood-red in spots, as if debrided, but the bill from the vet doesn't list any drastic procedures: just exam and shots. The rash did seem to be improving a little, so I suppose it's still keep it clean and check up again after a while.
Al doesn't understand why he doesn't get his prednisone an hour early — when he was also taking an antibiotic, he would throw up if we gave him both at once. Two half-treats are better than one!
Now we're both home and both awake. Dave said the vet said that he still doesn't know what's wrong, but Al is definitely getting better, so keep on doing what we've been doing. Al is still where I found him when I got back from the Sprawlmart tour.
Though I went into several stores, the tour was strictly a bread run: after dropping off my stuff at Goodwill, I had lunch at Big Apple Bagels and ordered two sliced wheat bagels to go. Asked for them sliced because I thought that someone who slices bagels all day every day would do a better job — but it was someone who has been slicing bagels all day and is fed up; the job was merely adequate.
I over-filled my panniers at Aunt Millies. I bought two dozen dinner rolls, thinking "slider buns!", but it was a real struggle to slice them, so I put them into the freezer with only six sliced. Much easier to slice them one at a time. And they might be easier to slice frozen.
Now I need to go back to Owens and get a package of slider patties.
Last night, the jersey came out of the machine with the stain intact. I haven't checked to see whether it's any better dry.
Had a lovely drive; the leaves are at peak, and the sun was out all morning.
Dave's GPS seems to hate Market Street. I wasn't surprised that it kept making frantic efforts to get me onto Center on the way out, but on the way back it was equally desperate to move me *away* from my destination in order to use Center.
Once on Detroit, the GPS and I were on the same page all the way to Bonneyville, and it directed me precisely to the mill itself. Of course, one has to drive past the mill and turn onto another county road to get to the parking lot.
On the way back, the GPS and I weren't even in the same book; I wanted to go to Middlebury and it was set to take me home. And my map didn't show any of the roads I was on. Even after finding Middlebury, it took a lot of blundering around to find downtown. When the GPS said "turn right onto Bristol Road", I said "Right on! *Now* I'll do what you tell me." But when I tried to go home by way of SR 13, it kept directing me to SR 15; when I got fed up with 13 —up there it's very like Husky Trail: way underbuilt for the amount of traffic that is on it— I gave up and did as told, since I had no way to tell which way was north (it was overcast by then) and the roads were very short of places to pull off and read the map. I found this very uncomfortable, because I like to know where I am. Dave says that the GPS will give some clues if you know how to make it do so, but I was doing quite well to re-start it after turning off the motor — and it does *that* all by itself.
I wish I'd taken its suggestion of turning left onto Anchorage on the way back, but it didn't suggest it soon enough for me to recognize that this was a good idea and get into the left-turn lane.
I got twenty-five pounds each of hard red wheat and hard white wheat. And in Middlebury, I bought two pairs of black socks and two balls of crochet cotton. Though what I'll do with crochet cotton now that I can't watch television, I don't know. (One of the reasons that I'm falling behind in reading the newspapers is that both of the comfortable places to read are in the living room, within earshot of the television.)
Whoosh, this is going to be a long edition of the Banner. Don't you miss the days when I had to stop every sixty lines and stack up twelve more sheets of paper! (Well, only twelve of you remember that.)
I was hoping to go for a long walk in my wizard suit tomorrow, but the NWS says it's going to rain all day.
Took a walk around the post office about sunset; got slightly damp. I didn't bother with the make-up, and without it, my wizard suit is only a slightly-eccentric choice of clothing. Dave said that Halloween was postponed until tomorrow because of the weather; though I met (and was overtaken by) a few joggers, I didn't see anyone else in costume.
I planted a few wheat seeds around the edge of the lemon-grass pot today. I think that they have taken about a week to come up in previous plantings. There's only about a teaspoon of seed left in the bag; I think it was a pound when I bought it. <checks bag> Yes, a pound, and I got it from Rod Smith, so it means that I not only got it before we moved, it was before the store's name changed to Paradise Foods.
One thing I miss about New York is being able to buy everything for my fruitcakes in one stop. I presume that there is such a store in Fort Wayne, but it isn't worth my while to find it.
I need to make the Spring Creek tour sometime in November.
Krebs Trailhead Park is closed for the season. It was open long enough for me to peek into the restroom and see that the handicapped stall is honestly big enough for a wheelchair to get in. I didn't think to look for grab bars.
The modified VW bug is gone; I hope it found a good home.