---L--P+----1----@10--2----+----3---- -R
1998 Beeson Banner
1 January 1998
Nobody came to my party. I was rather pleased, since
it was scheduled for my nap time.
I invited two thousand people! One thousand from the
bike club, one thousand from the knitlist.
I should have invited Arachne Chat too.
I fussed over all the other preparations -- but I
didn't unbury the bike. Told Dave it was too cold to
ride & he said "You didn't used to let that stop you."
Just realized that in that sense, "used" has an
unvoiced "s".
Told Dave he had to dispose of a gallon of whole-milk
cocoa. "Poor me."
It isn't made yet. I make a pint of syrup before the
party, and pour a gallon of milk -- minus enough to fill
the Blue-Denmark "milk jug" pitcher -- into it at serving
time.
Yesterday, I logged on and hunted for the Warsaw
bicycle club. Fort Wayne was as close as I could come.
The fellow who replied to my request for a sample
newsletter said that there's a Balloon Festival Ride in
Warsaw every June; I looked it up in the list of Indiana
bike rides, but it didn't say who the sponsor was.
Watching the mailbox -- he said that the Three Rivers
newsletter will be mailed soon, I've ordered a pair of
gloves that ought to be here by now, and I've got some
other outstanding correspondence.
Would probably remember most of it if I checked the
check register. One of the checks hasn't been mailed
yet, so I guess I can't look forward to my shuttle in
tomorrow's mail. I ordered a hand-made wooden shuttle by
e-mail after stumbling upon a web page while fooling
around after hunting for bike clubs. The price is a
ridiculously small sum.
Just checked the check register, and found only a book
and a sample fanzine.
I should get some e-mail after folks get back to their
offices after the holidays, too.
2 January 1998
Lesson from the school of hard knocks: If you have an
aluminum kitchen funnel, don't let it be used for
gasoline, thinking that you can buy another one.
I've been hunting for several weeks, and all I can
find are cheap funnels made of a plastic that would be
hard to clean even if it weren't in the shape of a
funnel, and expensive stainless-steel funnels with two
dirt-grabbing seams.
After breakfast this morning, the situation got
urgent: I had to put the left-over cocoa back
into the milk jug. After running in circles for a while,
I took a Mountain Dew bottle out of the trash, cut the
bottom off, and scrubbed it out well. If the neck were a
bit longer, it would be perfect! It fits inside the
mouth of the jug, and I can put a finger inside the neck
to clean it. I re-washed it and kept it.
I wonder whether I could sell the Mountain Dew company
the idea of selling nests of disposable funnels?
False alarms:
The doorbell rang, it was Fed Ex, it was for Dave.
I wondered what he was expecting from Buick, and put
it on his desk. When he came home, he wondered why Buick
had sent him a package -- it was a "travel bag and
emergency car kit" to match his new Century. Quite
elegant and expensive-looking; the emergency kit is in an
attach that matches the soft-side travel bag. I
didn't notice a label saying whether it was nylon or
ramie. I did notice that the Century logo on the larger
case was discreet, and beautifully embroidered. The
stiffener in the bottom is on a hinge so that you can
fold it flat when it's not in use.
Reminds me of a sample case, rather than something for
clothes, but you could definitely pack enough stuff to
last you until washday.
In the afternoon, not quite early enough, I mailed the
check for my new shuttle -- and found a package from
Rivendale in the box. Alas, all the "as long as I'm
filling out the blank" stuff was in it, but the gloves
are on back order.
Something new learned from Spitzen -- while looking up
"struag" -- which wasn't in Langenscheid; it was probably
a joke, so I didn't bother with Wahrig -- I discovered
that "strudel" means "vortex," "swirl," or "whirlpool".
I always thought it meant "pie".
Apfelstrudel!
6 January 1998
There is a certain balance to the universe.
There were two letters from strangers in yesterday's
mail. I opened one, and it turned out to be a letter
Paulette Forshey is sending out to let people know that
Paula Morris has died. I've been needing news to put in
the Writers' Exchange Bulletin this month, but a death
notice wasn't what I had in mind.
Reflecting that I must straighten up my address book,
so that my heirs won't be notifying everyone that I've
bought a shuttle from in the last ten years, I opened the
other letter. It was an application from a new member.
Every morning, I give Dave a mug of cocoa. There are
sixteen eight-ounce cups in a gallon. I made a gallon of
cocoa six days ago. There is about an inch of cocoa
remaining in the jug.
Something does not compute.
I think I'll have a swig of cold cocoa.
The sample fanzine (Space and Time) arrived. I looked
it over, and put it into my bag of stuff to dump at the
library.
The stories seem to be of the "literary" type --
character studies of people who have no character, and
suchlike depressing trash. I skimmed one; a girl who had
a crazy mother became crazy herself. No discernible
point.
7 January 1998
All I have to do for the new nightshirt is to sew up
the side seams, hem it, and add patch pockets.
It's getting urgent to remember where I put the
scraps. I've looked through the scraps on hangers in the
closet any number of times; I suppose that when I find
them, they will be exactly there.
Wrapped in an old sweater?
9 January 1998
All that digging and delving failed to turn up the
chambray because I had left it in plain sight, on the
bookcase in the sewing room. Noticed only an hour or two
after writing my previous entry.
Making the extra pockets was no trouble, but they
straddle the side seams, so sewing them on meant
wrestling the whole shirt through the throat of the
sewing machine.
Managed to mislay a seam ripper and a hem gauge, each
while I was actively using it. Found the hem gauge by
looking for it. Had to finish the seam-ripper job with
scissors and a corsage pin, but when the blue seam ripper
did turn up, I also found the gray one that disappeared
from behind the feed-drop button on the sewing machine a
few days ago.
Finished Dave's new shirt tonight, just in time to sit
down to Babylon Five. I'd seen it, but it was a
particularly good one, though the final scene doesn't
have much punch when you know it's coming. Didn't catch
the title. G'Kar fights off an assassin and acquires a
new aide, while Sheridan copes with religious festivals.
It was easier to follow the show when it was on at
5:00 a.m. -- I had exclusive possession of the TV when it
was on, and could watch the recording when I was good and
ready.
Rather annoying that there was no TV guide in last
Sunday's paper. I don't know when the first new show
will play, or whether it already has.
Having found the chambray, I suppose that I should cut
out the matching nightshirt I planned to make for me, but
I think my next new project will be a bull-denim wallet.
My old billfold is disintegrating, so one of the "while
I'm filling out the blank" items that came without the
gloves was an ugly brown waxed-cotton wallet. It's not
at all convenient, but I see that I can easily copy it,
with pockets that better suit my needs. More pockets
will make it thicker, though, and it's rather lumpy
already. Better think twice and cut once.
I actually touched the pants that have been hanging
fire so long. I needed more pins for the hem of the
nightshirt, so I basted a hem I'd pinned into a pocket of
the pants a few weeks ago. Would have been easier to sew
both hems than to baste one -- if the sewing machine had
been set up with silk thread.
Dave's chambray shirt weighs more than his flannel
shirt -- and the flannel shirt is still damp from
washing.
12 January 1998
That was brilliant.
After taking advantage of the sunshine to dump three
trash cans of cat litter (for the nervous, this compost
heap is for ornamentals!), I emptied the dirtier cat box
and tried to wash it. The hose was clogged with ice.
Thinking that if I broke up the ice, water pressure would
blow it out, I took the hose off the faucet and gave the
clothes pole a mighty thwack.
Whereupon the hose broke neatly in half. Couldn't
have cut as square with a knife.
Which will make it easier to repair, come spring.
16 January 1998
If I get with it, I could finish my fuzzy-wool pants
tonight and wear them tomorrow.
I don't think I will.
Tonight's B5 show is "Believers". This was a
particularly important episode, but it's a discussing
story, not a re-watching story. Maybe I will
put a few stitches into the pants.
Did the easing on the front yesterday. Amazing how
easy it is in pure wool. There was a good two inches to
get rid of, and there's nary a pleat or a pucker.
Had to dip my twill tape in water several times before
I got it pressed flat, though.
19 January 1998
Still haven't finished the pants, but all the pieces
are attached.
20 January 1998
I've had some paperwork to take care of for some time;
over the weekend, I decided that I would devote Monday
morning to doing it. To get some exercise at the same
time, I planned to ride my bike around the block and stop
at the town hall, the bank, and the post office.
Found the town hall open, but the county clerk's
office was mysteriously locked and there was nobody
around to ask; I thought that it was lucky that I had
chickened out and taken the Jeep -- I'd have been put out
to go that far out of my way on a bike. The bank might
have a notary handy, so I pressed on.
The bank was also locked with no explanation, but by
then I was beginning to get the message. Stopped at the
post office on general principles, since I'd also brought
a package to mail, but I didn't shut off the engine or
take the package. This time there was a sign on the door
saying that they were "honoring" Martin Luther King Jr.'s
birthday. My desk encyclopedia doesn't mention his
birthdate any more precisely than 1929, but I don't think
it was the nineteenth of January.
The post office is close to Stewart's, so I returned a
case of soda bottles I've been carrying around in the
Jeep. Thought there should be some purpose in
the trip.
To my delight, the library was open. Surely if they
closed that down, Dr. King wouldn't just roll
over in his grave, he'd crawl right out. I dropped two
cans of milk left over from Thanksgiving into the "food
pantry" box, and looked for a couple of books in the card
file. Didn't find them, but that doesn't mean anything,
since the card file is no longer maintained. I knew
quite well that they have one of the books, because I'd
just seen it, and wondered what else Mary Norton wrote.
Not too long ago, I saw a card in there for a book that I
bought at the Friends of the Library sale last year!,
By then there was no time to ask the reference
librarian to look up books for me, so I hurried home to
prepare lunch. Which was hot-dog shaped porkburger
patties served on finger rolls; quite good without any
condiment.
Time to quit fooling around, get back into the Jeep,
and make another trip around the block.
22 January 1998
Served two more repeats of the pork- burger patties,
which were well received.
Made the same trip again on Tuesday, more
successfully. Submitted an interlibrary-loan request for
"Cut my Cote" after asking the clerk to verify that
Voorheesville doesn't have it.
Returned to the town hall on Wednesday, to pay taxes.
I feel remiss in not visiting today.
I was relieved twice and puzzled once upon looking
into the mirror.
Last night, I tried to unbutton Frieda's claw from the
shawl I was wearing, which induced her to plant a back
foot in my face as she accelerated from the room. Didn't
realize I was dripping before I got blood all over my
yellow turtleneck, which is one of my presentable
everyday shirts. I rubbed it with bar soap before going
upstairs for the peroxide, and the stains appear to have
come out.
My first thought was "I hope I don't have to go
anywhere before this heals!" Today I noticed a sore
spot, and began to worry that it had gotten infected.
But the marks hardly show at all, and there isn't the
slightest trace of inflammation. (Gave all a good scrub
anyhow.) The sore bump is a small but nasty bruise.
How did she do that with a little furry foot?
23 January 1998
So today I went to the doctor and got a tetanus shot.
But he'd given me the shot before he asked what was wrong
with my face -- he figured that if I couldn't remember
the last shot, it must be time for another.
Also got a flu shot, a pneumonia shot, a prescription
to have blood drawn, and a referral for a mammogram.
When you haven't seen the doctor in years, a minor
complaint gets complicated. For the presenting problem,
I was told to call Dr. Quinn's practice, which I did as
soon as I got home, and now I've got an appointment with
Dr. Franklin. That wasn't mentioned until I'd given all
my data and she was repeating the appointment to be sure
I had it, so I hung up with dropping jaw. Hope I can
resist the urge to tell him I'm a Babylon 5 fan.
If he waves any magic wands, I will feel no
compunction.
The trigger finger subsided entirely as soon as I
decided to do something about it, of course.
The news people are hard up for something to talk
about. "A bombshell" -- Clinton seduced a sap-young
intern and told her to lie about it. It would be a
bigger bombshell to find a pile of mouse guts in Socks'
quarters.
But now we can impeach him, they say. Big crummy
deal. There's no evidence but the word of a flighty
girl, and Clinton is a master at the art of stalling
until it doesn't matter any more. Not to mention that
Gore would be even worse, and going into the next
election as president would considerably improve Gore's
chances of being nominated.
And it's far too late anyway; the quickest way to get
rid of Clinton now is to let him serve out his term and
retire.
24 January 1998
Talk about intrusive government! Our president won't
even stay out of our cookies.
My fortune tonight was "Truthful words are not always
beautiful; beautiful words are not always truthful."
Dave's fortune was "All the world may not love a
lover; but they will be watching him."
Aside from stuffing myself at Yan's Chinese Buffet,
about all I did today was to run out for milk and
groceries, and punch the receipts in my wallet into
Quicken.
I think I'll get out my knitting and watch the "TKO"
episode of Babylon 5, which I recorded a few days ago.
25 January 1998
Just stuffed myself at the Superbowl party, which puts
paid to my plans to get the blood drawing out of the way
tomorrow morning. You can't have anything heavy and
greasy the night before.
The menu was "steak sandwiches", which around here
means shaved beef on a "steak roll" -- a french loaf a
bit bigger than a hot-dog roll. What Doug served was a
steak on half a sub roll!
I wondered what cut it was; Roger opined "Delmonico".
I can't identify anything without a bone in.
I ate the whole thing, and all the gristle out of
Dave's. Mine had no gristle. He still ended up more
stuffed than me, and sent a whole bowl of shrimp back to
the kitchen!
Doug said he was going to serve the shrimp again at
half time, together with the yellow cake with the
football design in the frosting. Yellow cake isn't a
particular treat for me, so I didn't ask Dave to bring me
a slice. If they're having ice cream with it, I
would like some of that -- but ice cream doesn't
do well in a doggy bag.
I ate up the last of the ice cream I bought for
Thanksgiving a few days ago. It was getting a bit dried-
up.
30 January 1998
Thursday was the first brilliantly-sunny day we've had
in ages.
It was also the day for my annual trip to the
opthalmologist. Took forever for the drops to wear off.
Saw Murnane Thursday afternoon. Well, a female
assistant, of course. Didn't hang around to hear the x-
rays read; will call Casey Monday to hear about that and
the results of the blood tests.
Saw Dr. Brian O'Malley Quinn on Wednesday, or, as his
receptionist said it, "Dr. Brankwin." His son David is
also in the practice, along with several other
orthopedists; the place is a warren. Has signs pointing
the way to the exit.
Got two shots, Novocaine and cortisone. Counting
Frieda's back foot, and a half-knit sock I picked up with
my ankle, that brings the needle-sticks in a week's time
to eight. (Got blood drawn on Tuesday.)
My hand is still sore, but I can't tell whether it's
the shots or the original problem. A little of each, I
suppose. The mark isn't blue any more, but if you look
closely, you can see a pinker triangle with one point on
the puncture mark.
The numb fingers were much warmer than the others. I
wonder whether that was the cortisone or the Novocaine?
I think I'd have noticed it sooner if it had been the
inflammation.
I got really bored with the socks I carry in my purse
for waiting times. The last wait at the orthopedic
clinic was on a table, and one of the guys passing
through handed me a pillow, but I sat up every time I
heard someone walking toward me, and didn't get much of a
nap.
Ordinarily I'd have a pint of tea with lunch when I
have an afternoon appointment, but you have to eschew
stimulants for three days before a mammogram -- which
was, of course, the very last stop in my odyssey.
31 January 1998
Almost exactly a year after I decided to make them, I
finally sewed the last hook on my new pants and put them
on -- and Dave decided to bring the pizza here to eat it.
They are quite comfortable; I had been afraid they
would be stiff, but wool has enough give to make up for
the thickness. If they stand up to washing, I may cut
some of the other fuzzy wools.
Pity I can't buy any worsted twills.
Speaking of buying wool, I lost my H2O scarf a few
days ago, and have no idea where I'll find another winter
scarf. I used to show it to fabric sellers, trying to
find a similar flannel, and they'd say "I wish I could."
Just a few hours before I lost it, I was gloating on how
it had been tied in knots hundreds of times since it had
last been washed, and still looked brand new and freshly
ironed.
I put it on the seat beside me when I dashed out to
move the car the last time Doug plowed, and when I got
out of the car, it was nowhere. I even looked in the
snowbanks, because I'd handed Dave a poncho when he stood
in the rain to talk to me while we waited, and I thought
the scarf might have gone out the window with it.
4 February 1998
Made an adjustment to my smock pattern, and was
pleased to find a scrap of blue-on-white chambray big
enough to cut the back and front without piecing.
Getting all the smaller pieces out of what's left may
take some ingenuity, or, perhaps, some plain white
fabric.
Discovered that I don't remember any of the cloth in
my box of white scraps, except for the organdy from my
wedding gown. Surprisingly little cotton in there, but
there are two pieces I think may be linen. (I wonder
where the double-knit came from?)
Also found a piece of solid blue chambray to test the
next version, again with some ingenuity in cutting the
smaller pieces. I'll have an ample supply of garden
smocks by the time I get this pattern perfected!
Just remembered that most of my white cotton is filed
under "sheeting".
And I'd considered sheeting to test the pattern with!
Decided it would look like underwear.
6 February 1998
I've always assumed that it took four inches of yarn
to knit one inch of row in stockinet. When I began
knitting four yards of yarn at 10 stitches/inch on 76-
stitch rounds, I ran those figures through my little
solar calculator and came up with 4.7 rounds. The stripe
is actually five and three fourths rounds wide.
But 3, the other widely-quoted number, says 6.3
rounds. Three is closer, but four is much safer.
7 February 1998
It took both ingenuity and white cloth, but only one
sleeve and the front yoke are pieced, and the white cloth
is part of a facing.
Forgot to cut pockets, though. A garden smock is
fairly useless without pockets.
My reputation as a bad data point is in danger. When
Dave told me that the ketchup he liked at Christine's
came from Sysco, I told him that Sysco wasn't any fun to
shop at any more. But today I drove by on my way back
from Colonie, stopped to look for ketchup, and they had
changed the store back to the way I like it!
Bought two white Syracuse luncheon plates and a bottle
of "House Recipe" ketchup.
Ate a take-out pizza off the plates. They work.
Got some saimen and soy sauce at Kim's, and, on
impulse, rice flour and rice cooking wine.
But I'd gone out to buy printer ribbons and cat
litter. Logical Micros no longer opens on Saturday, and
Price Chopper didn't have any wood-chip litter. I'd
stopped at Super Valu on the way out, and found that the
space I'd thought they'd cleared out for a shipment of
Cedariffic had been filled with new brands, and the shelf
labels had been changed.
Looking at Grand Union would have involved two left
turns onto Western, and though getting out of Price
Chopper and Grand Union isn't as difficult as getting out
of Kim's and Logical Micros, I was tired. I turned right
and went home.
12 February 1998
Dave has a hydrogen-line picture of the sun on the
"wallpaper" today. Looks much less warty than the other
frequencies -- the ultraviolet picture looked like lava,
and the x-ray picture was downright eerie.
When I was coming back to the house with the mail --
which finally included my new Rivendell gloves -
- I saw something red sticking out of a melting snowbank.
It was my missing scarf! I dug out Dave's old ice-axe
and chopped it free, dropped it on the driveway a couple
of times, then put it through a rinse cycle in the washer
to get the rest of the ice out. It's in perfect
condition -- it's on the ironing board awaiting
attention, but I could wear it without pressing it and
no-one would notice.
They don't make machine-washable wool like
that any more.
I bought four more yards of dry-clean-only wool from
Alfred's $3.68 table yesterday, on my way back from
another blood-letting. I told the phlebotomist that I
was going to have cream cheese on a bagel, since it might
be my last chance (this test was for more detail on my
lipids), but I noticed that I was parked closer to the
stores than I would be in their own parking lot, walked
over, and discovered that there are no public doors on
this side, and the only passage is at the other end. So
I walked around the nearer end & went to Alfred's and the
Book House first, and by the time I got to Brueger's, I
wanted lunch, so I had cheese soup with my bagel.
Ordered a poppy bagel without checking to see which
were still hot. I like a slightly-stale bagel when I
break it up in soup, so I'd have ordered a cold one if
I'd paid attention.
But if I had, cinnamon-raisin might have been one of
the hot flavors, which would have put honey-walnut cream
cheese back on my menu & by then I needed the vegetables
in the cheese soup.
On the other hand, I did notice that the
honey-grain bagels were hot.
I've got my rhubarb-root socks down to the toes, which
I plan to knit with the Greylock in the "soccer ball".
(It's a slightly-deflated volleyball now.) I think I'll
wind the purple yarn I inherited from Betty into balls
and start a sock for my purse.
What a clever design the SF & Fantasy Workshop logo
is! It's a sword-shaped rocket ship which, upon close
inspection, turns out to be a pencil. The calyx-shaped
socket which replaces the eraser and connects the pencil
to the hilt/fins-and-flame looks meaningful too, but I
can't quite place it.
Just looked through a herbal I downloaded a while
back. Found this recipe for reducing cholesterol:
4 parts (4 tbsps) ground ginger
1 part (1 tbsp) ground cinnamon
1/2 part (1 tsp) ground nutmeg
1/4 part (1/2 tsp) ground cayenne
You are supposed to put it into capsules and swallow
it, but it seems to me that it would be much better mixed
with sugar and sprinkled on buttered toast.
Intrigued by the hint of cayenne, I mixed up half a
recipe; now I'm trying to think of something to taste it
in. I imagine that black pepper instead of cayenne would
be much better.
Sounds like great ginger snaps.
I've been playing with dyes again. I've discovered
that onionskins with vinegar and a pinch of alum make a
beautiful, clear yellow-orange.
The new Price Chopper on 85 doesn't have any
degradable cat litter, but it's laid out beautifully,
with signs everywhere so that I didn't have the least
trouble finding my way around. I bought a bowl of cut-up
cantaloupe and a loaf of "bagel bread".
Mildred wasn't at the poet's meeting. One of the
other members said that she's busy with other things, not
ill. Hope she comes back soon -- but not on a fish-fry
night -- as I have several copies of "Sheet Music"
magazine to dispose of.
The purple yarn and the needles were in my purse, but
not cast on or wound into balls. My ball of string and
my hook case were in my purse, but the crochet hook that
belongs in the case is in my knitting basket, from when I
picked up a dropped stitch in the stockings. I had two
tatting shuttles, but neither was suitably wound.
Fiddled with them anyway.
15 February 1998
Missed my nap yesterday. Just as I was lying down, I
heard someone saying the auxiliary is short of manpower,
call the president of another for mutual aid. So I
hopped up, dressed for going out, and called Kay Baer.
She hadn't heard anything, so we concluded that it was
Berne or Knox they'd called on.
I think it was Onesquethaw's fire, but then I
was sure I'd heard them ask for New Salem's auxiliary.
They asked for one of our tankers as soon as they saw the
smoke. Dave drove it; he was at the firehouse using the
computer or printer. The guy they were following got
lost, but by good luck they lost sight of him just before
he went off track, and the tanker got to the fire first.
A barn fire, and they saved the barn! They hauled the
hay outside and let it burn. Took a lot of manpower,
hence the multiple mutual aid. (I'll bet they didn't get
the hay into the barn that fast.)
Dave says, by the way, that the fire was very well
catered, with plenty of food and Gatoraid. Started about
lunch time.
Took five hours, he said. Two people went to the
hospital, one because he bumped his head while reaching
for his helmet. Neither was badly hurt.
The main reason they were able to save the barn was
that it was started by a heater for a newborn lamb; they
were checking on the baby every little bit, so found the
fire while it was still small.
They took the lamb into the house; it wasn't hurt, as
far as I know.
16 February 1998
Struck cat litter at Hannaford today. It's laid out
rather like the Price Chopper, but they went overboard on
the signs -- they block the view.
Was planning to buy printer ribbons tomorrow, and get
a little exercise by going by bike, but I've got a sore
throat and the weather doesn't look promising.
Was beautiful today, if a bit chilly.
17 February 1998
Went out again to buy steak, and got some "San
Francisco Sourdough Bread" while I was at it. The baker
appears not to realize that it's the dough, not the
bread, that's supposed to be sour.
The prediction is still rain, freezing rain, sleet,
and snow. No hail mentioned. Looks pleasant, if
overcast, at the moment but I didn't take the paper out
with the rest of the trash, and have no intention of
going anywhere by bike.
I'd go back to bed if I didn't have ninety milligrams
of pseudoephedrine hydrochloride in me. I felt that I'd
blown my nose incautiously during the night, and want to
be sure my ears drain out.
My throat isn't as sore as it was, but that could be
because I'm under the influence.
Told Dave to pick up sweet-and-sour chicken on his way
home. He's not feeling too good either. Unusual for me
to get the infection first, but he'll be in bed tomorrow,
I bet.
Well not in bed -- it feels a lot worse when you are
horizontal. I took sixty mg. at bedtime, knowing full
well it would keep me awake, because I wanted to lie
down. This morning Dave said I should have taken
Seldane, but he was asleep when I went to bed. With any
luck, I won't need anything tonight.
I expect Dave to be down about three days. He always
takes infections worse than I do. But then he always
gets them first; maybe this one will be an exception.
I've been playing with Dave's slinky while trying to
decide what I felt up to doing. I bought it as a joke,
but we've both been getting a lot of good out of it.
Every desk should have a steel slinky as one of its
paperweights.
18 February 1998
In deference to my condition, Dave picked up "Sweet'n
Sour Chicken served with chinese pasta noodles, oriental
vegetables & a fortune cookie" at Super Valu. There were
two fortunes in the cookie; perhaps those dinners are
meant to serve two.
Dave's fortune read "You are never bitter, deceptive,
or petty." Mine was "Good news will be brought to you in
the mail." Dave said that that meant that Threads was
going to buy the story I sent them; I said that since his
fortune was accurate, I would believe mine.
The chicken, alas, was about as oriental as apple pie,
and the vegetables were overcooked. We both liked the
noodles.
There was enough meat that we split one of the lumps
of chicken breast between the cats.
I'm planning to go fetch a meatloaf dinner tonight.
Dave particularly likes Super Valu's meatloaf.
I'm feeling a bit better; he wasn't happy about going
to work. But he had to have blood drawn & was eager to
get that over with so he could eat breakfast, so he left
early.
He said yesterday that about half the staff at R&P is
out sick. So he must have passed it to me before he
started feeling it himself.
I wonder whether I can learn to sleep sitting up? I
don't even feel like knitting.
Did rinse & hang up the whites I had soaking, and
gathered some snow for further dyeing experiments. This
time I packed my six-quart kettle, after collecting a
saucepan to use immediately.
Just turned off a pot of onionskin and soda. Paler,
but looked much like the onionskin and vinegar. Perhaps
it will do something interesting when I add alum and cook
another skein.
19 February 1998
When rinsed, the soda skein turned pure yellow. The
alum skein came out a trifle darker and perhaps a bit
more orange.
I kept waking Dave up during the night, he says.
Despite that, he still feels passable. He cooked his own
breakfast while I was dragging myself out of bed, and
went to work. He credits "Cold-Eeze" tablets, so I'm
sucking on one.
I should soak my feet in bleach water. I stepped on a
pin or nail in the night. I remember where I put it, but
didn't think of it until I noticed my sore foot, so I
haven't looked to see what it was.
I woke up thinking that exercise in the open air would
be just the thing to unclog my nose, what a shame the air
is cold and the ground is wet, so if I went for a bike
ride I wouldn't be able to stop and rest when I needed
to. Then I looked out to see that it's raining, and it
appears to plan on continuing all day.
It's already rained off most of the new snow -- good
thing I filled a kettle when I had the chance, as I still
have a half-gallon of onion skins and quite a few
permutations of my four mordants.
A neat sig line, shamelessly snitched: "Follow your
dream, unless it's the one where you're at work in your
underwear."
At lunch -- which I prepared -- Dave said that the
sick people have begun straggling back to work, and he
thinks he's been as sick as he's going to get.
I napped for two hours without the least bit of
trouble breathing, and woke up thinking about getting
some work done.
Cool! About ten after five I went into the kitchen to
get a carrot, and saw four deer grazing in the back yard,
three in Lawrence's yard and one in ours.
We've been seeing tracks every time it snows, but you
don't see deer by daylight.
With the sky so overcast & the sun behind the
mountain, maybe they figured it was dark enough. I
imagine they are fairly hungry, too.
They are all in our yard now. The thickest and
thawedest grass is close to the house and far from the
trees, and I imagine they had to work up nerve as they
grazed toward it.
20 February 1998
I'm feeling better -- so I had two naps instead of one
today. Found Fred in my bed and washed his face, which
he takes with a minimum of flinching nowadays -- better
than I take getting blood drawn.
Adding iron to the soda-alum bath dyed a skein a
trifle lighter and more neutral than the plain-soda bath.
I put in some vinegar to see whether it comes out the
same as vinegar-alum-iron.
Been calculating whether I can get all the colors into
one pair of socks. A twenty-yard skein should make a
stripe between six and seven rounds wide on each of two
socks, there are 95 rounds in the foot, forty or more in
the cuff, two skeins of each of two colors in the heel
flap -- I may choose one of my fifty-fifty fingerings for
one of the yarns -- plus the toes and gussets.
21 February 1998
So it's going to take more than twenty sample skeins.
I can fool around for a while yet.
Adding vinegar to soda-alum-iron made brown, but an
entirely different hue of brown than vinegar-alum-iron.
More like plain iron and vinegar-iron (which matched).
Perhaps the vinegar and soda precipitated out the alum.
I removed the tin can lid and made two more skeins; the
hue has drifted still more -- and it's getting paler and
paler; the skein that's in now should sop up the last of
it.
22 February 1998
Yup, it was hardly more than dirtied.
I'm getting systematic about labeling these things.
I folded a sheet of typing paper into sixteenths &
punched holes in the corner. We have a cute little cube-
shaped paper punch that is so small that you'll hurt your
hand if you try to punch more than one sheet of thin
paper, but also so sturdy that you can put it on the
floor and work it with your heel. So I set half the
folded sheets into the punch, stepped on it, disposed of
the confetti, put the punch into the same position on the
other leaf, stepped again -- and discovered that I'd
lined the holes up so well that I'd neatly plugged the
set of holes I punched the first time! There was a
certain amount of cognitive dissonance before I figured
out what was going on.
Had to poke them out with a knitting needle.
I took a few laps around the high school parking lot
on my bike this morning, and I think it did me a lot of
good.
But it was pumping up my tires afterward that got my
heart rate up. I should have done that first, but I was
on the bike before I noticed.
Besides, squishy tires kept me off the open road,
where I might have finished my quota of exercise miles
from home -- and I did need to warm up before pumping the
tires. Anyone who says that cycling does nothing for the
upper body has never used a floor pump!
Put the pork cutlets into the oven a little after
four. Plan to bake them an hour and a half, since Dave
likes his pork cooked squishy. And his potatoes
likewise. I put in some chopped celery, celery leaves,
two baby carrots (I prefer them raw), a dash of soy
sauce, and a romaine leaf. Forgot the onion.
Could slip a couple of multipliers in half an hour
before serving, if I think of it.
I got a loaf of "irish soda bread" at Super Valu.
It's a huge drop biscuit, with raisins, caraway seeds,
and sugar mixed into the dough.
It's good toasted, if you can figure out how to get a
slice into and out of the toaster in a reasonably small
number of pieces. I suspect that the Irish never make
any more than they can eat hot from the oven.
If they make anything remotely resembling this.
23 February 1998
Finally got around to buying the printer ribbons -- by
Jeep, even though it was probably the last fit day to
ride for a week. Made a point of going to Lake
Electronics afterward, even though it meant a left turn
off Central -- it's been on my shopping list about ten
years now.
Discovered that the place I really wanted to go all
that time is Sun Appliances, which is on the same side as
Logical Micros and Kim's Oriental. It was only a block
away, he said, but that would have meant a left turn
onto Central. Where I entered the road, it not
only wasn't possible, it wasn't legal.
I turned off at Lincoln Avenue, just to avoid going
back the way I came, and realized after a while that I'd
be coming out by Paradise Foods. I'd stopped there for a
sack of raisins on the way out & found the "closed" sign
up, and people waiting by the door. Walked away
muttering "I never thought I could get here before ten
when I wasn't even dressed at nine fifteen!" Met a clerk
wandering the parking lot who told me that they were
waiting for a locksmith. Saw the locksmith starting work
while I was waiting for the light; had I realized that he
really would be there "in a minute" I'd have waited, as
I've never seen anyone force a door.
When I told her I'd run my other errands and come back
later, I thought I meant in a couple of weeks, having
forgotten that a visit to the left side of the road meant
that I couldn't continue counterclockwise.
Had Super Valu beef stroganoff for supper tonight, and
the green beans were not overcooked. Attn.
Alice and Nancy: I ate them.
Should have had a salad too; Casey got my blood lipids
back, and is sending me to a nutritionist as soon as I
get around to picking up the referral. He suggested that
I probably wouldn't want to go out into the rain, snow,
and sleet tomorrow, and he won't be there Wednesday, so
Thursday sounds like it.
I've passed that sign on Krumkill innumerable times;
now I'll find out what it's about.
26 February 1998
I'll be leaving to pick up the referral in a few
minutes now.
Hate those times when it's too early to leave, and too
late to put your mind to anything else.
There's a yellow crocus in bloom in the flower bed.
Guess I'll have to give in and pick off the matted
leaves. I've lifted them off a few of the leaves that
are drilling their way through, and dropped them back on
top. Found that one batch of crocus leaves had drilled
through a living strawberry leaf; I'd have left it to see
what happens, had I seen it a split second sooner.
Now I'm fidgeting that it isn't quite time to go to
the Auxiliary meeting.
I got some exercise Tuesday. We got a big fall of
snow -- which mostly melted yesterday, and came close to
finishing the job today. If I hadn't had to run to Super
Valu and Indian Ladder afterward, I'd have biked to
Casey's.
I can't back down a long, narrow driveway while
someone is impatiently waiting for me, so when Doug
comes, I drive to the high school, turn around in their
parking lot, and come back to wait facing the parking lot
so I can see when it's time to move back into my space.
When Doug showed up Tuesday, both cars were in the
driveway, but Dave was watching TV in his thin muslin
nightshirt and for some reason didn't feel that he could
go out into the storm. So I ran out, push-broomed both
cars, drove mine to the end of the driveway, ran back --
push broom in hand -- parked Dave's car behind mine,
jumped into my car, drove over to the high school and
parked -- found a spot near the entrance, since everyone
else was trying to get near the door -- ran back, still
carrying the push broom, jumped into Dave's car, turned
around in the high-school lot -- by this time I was on a
friendly-wave basis with the guy driving a snowplow
around that lot -- came back to find that Doug had
finished and gone -- probably had finished before I got
back the first time, which is why I ran -- parked Dave's
car, jogged back -- still carrying the push broom -- and
brought my car back.
Couldn't get the snow off my roof yesterday even
though it was melting and slick, because there are ridges
running fore and aft, and racks running across. Got some
of it off by braking, causing it to slosh under the front
rack and down the windshield. Luckily, I was braking to
turn into our driveway.
I'd gone out to fetch a Super Valu fried "fisherman's
combo". Enough filet for two, two shrimp, a handful of
scallops, and a scoop or two of shredded clams. Plus
buttered potatoes and mayo cole slaw.
We ate all of it. I don't think whats'er name would
approve.
I think I'll wait until after the fish fry to make my
appointment with the nutritionist.
27 February 1998
Forgot to go to the fish fry, after I'd promised to
help clean up.
Dave woke up feeling like going back to work -- only
to remember that he'd been scheduled to take today off so
a new operating system could be installed on his
computer. He worked in the morning, but got sent home
for lunch half an hour early.
My cold has tapered off to an occasional nose-blowing.
One of the ladies at the meeting could barely speak -- I
sure hope it isn't a different bug!
28 February 1998
ARRGH! It's ant season already. I hope I have all
the sweets in tight glass containers.
There are times when I despair of the future of
civilization -- as when I hear a local law firm
advertising on TV with this testimonial: "I was sinking
in debt, and thought I'd have to declare bankruptcy, but
[law firm] settled with my creditors for a third of what
I owed them, and gave me back my dignity."
I've been wandering around ever since muttering
"Dignity? He welches on two thirds of what he owes, and
that gives him dignity?"
1 March 1998
Looked out the window this morning and saw slabs of
bark off one of the locust trees lying on the ground.
Don't know how long it's been like that, since I don't
make a habit of checking to see whether the bark is still
on the trees, but it didn't look snowed-on. Went out to
take a closer look -- and pull off more loose bark.
Judging by the way the bare patch has a partly-healed
look on one side, whatever is attacking it has been in it
for years.
Now I wonder what is under the bark of the other
locust trees.
Dave has been wanting to get rid of that tree; I've
been over-ruling him because I tie a nylon string to it
when I wash rags. Perhaps I'll cut the stump tall, screw
an eyebolt into it, and continue using it as a
clothesline post.
So I still need to buy the vine I decided not to plant
on the oak tree.
I'm trying to kill an oak tree that's too near the
house, and too big to move. I meant to use the corpse as
a trellis; Dave wanted to saw it off short. (Short
stumps are a pain when mowing, because I can't see them.)
The subject of what to do with the tree came up
yesterday, while we were standing near it to inspect the
horizontal vertical and discuss how to put it up again.
So now the oak is going to be an antenna mast. He'll
saw it off just below the lowest set of radials, and
cable-tie the antenna to it.
3 March 1998
So far, the prescribed increase in my activity is
coming from running around to see doctors. I've got
Quinn today, Bigaouette tomorrow, and Rickert on Friday.
Yesterday Dave sent me an e-mail message nagging "did
you make the appointments?" I wrote back that I'd called
Rickert, but Biqgouette wasn't in the book. I had looked
at every "Big" and "Biq" in the business whites and
personal whites, and read every nutritionist in the
yellow pages, without finding her.
He came home for lunch with a slip of paper on which
he'd written her name, address, and phone number. I
asked did you find that in the phone book? Nope, he'd
driven by her house and copied it off the sign!
Rickert is an optomotrist; my arms are getting rather
short. And Quinn is the follow-up on the trigger finger.
I haven't noticed anything in weeks, so I think this will
be the last time I see him.
As for the nutritionist, Casey says he wants my blood
lipids to come down, and the best way to do that is to
bring my subcutaneous lipids down.
Seems kinder futile: she's going to tell me to sit
less, exercise more, stop eating when I'm not hungry, eat
my vegetables, and don't try to live on treats and
seasonings.
Training for the Century brings weight down rapidly,
but once you've proven you can do it, doing all that work
just to get tired stops being fun.
6 March 1998
I have three canvas grocery bags, but hardly ever buy
enough to fill all three. Just got back from my first
trip to the store after seeing the nutritionist, and the
packer honestly filled all three bags, and gave me two
plastic bags, and I'd grabbed the bread and the bananas
and put them in the baby seat.
We didn't have any of the things she told me to eat.
But I must admit, they could have gotten everything in
the two plastic bags, and the bread and bananas, into one
paper bag.
Still, four bags is a hefty load for us.
And I didn't get milk, having forgotten to put the
empty bottles into the car. Perhaps I'll ride my bike to
Indian Ladder after my nap.
We're short of paper bags, but she got the stuff into
plastic while I was still busy figuring out how to use my
Mastercard on account of having forgotten to refill my
check book.
First, I had to find it. I've got to get around to
designing a better wallet.
After seeing the optometrist and the optician this
morning, I drove across the road and looked around at 20-
Mall. Walked across the parking lot to Star Plaza while
I was at it, but they are dead except for a dry cleaner
and a liquor store. A flat and eye-catching version of
the fashionable points has been added to 20-Mall's roof,
and they seem to be refurbishing all the signs.
I went into the drug store to buy a bottle of
pseudoephedrine hydrochloride -- I've taken so much of
that stuff that I've learned how to spell it! They
didn't have any, but I bought a 49<¢s;> box of
chocolates, the prescribed box of low-fat Triscuits, and
a chest magnifier. I mean a magnifier to hang on my
chest while I knit. I've been wanting one for some time,
and got this one for seven dollars. Feels like a real
glass lens, too; I've tried it on fine print and it
really works. Rather shallow depth of clear view,
though; may not work for knitting.
7 March 1998
Finally saw how to arrange the pockets in my wallet,
and was drawing threads to cut the fabric when Dave came
home to take me out for pizza.
The factory model was made by starting with a long
piece of fabric and finishing the ends, sewing two
pockets of differing depth to it, then folding exactly
along the seam of the pockets, which caused me to think
at first that the wallet was made by sewing a front and
back together. Then the longer end was folded down to
meet the shorter end, the sides were sewn up, and it was
turned right-side out.
The method of attachment strongly suggests fold-bottom
pockets. I may up and do that. I'll certainly zig-zag
the edges of the seam allowances to the substrate.
Cheese is specifically forbidden -- so I suggested a
bacon pizza. No use indulging if you don't indulge.
Dave immediately thought of bacon and mushroom, and it
was delicious. We ate only half, though. I left it to
him to choose four-cut or eight-cut, so he's obliged to
eat it up before I do.
I'm a little over on my starch, and a lot under on my
vegetables for the day. We won't mention fats.
Must remember to cut up the red cabbage tomorrow, and
put it into the fridge.
I've set two goals for myself: ride my bike to the
sugar house six miles up the hill from Altamont, and ride
to the yarn store in Schenectady.
Nag.
8 March 1998
The cats are improving. When I got up from my nap, I
found a pile of vomit on the kitchen floor. The previous
pile was on a hardwood floor, and the one before that
fouled every blanket on the bed.
So far the only thing that I've eaten today that I
shouldn't is one Russel Stover caramel. And I've been to
Altamont -- technically. I turned around in the
convenient-store parking lot and rode right back.
Stopped on Altamont Road just before turning onto Picard
Road (that's a high spot) and called Dave; he was just
arriving at the fire house, and almost out of range. I
hadn't called on the way out because someone else was
using our pre-arranged frequency. Couldn't hear enough
of the conversation to make out where they were.
New acronym: the subscriber list for the Bead List
was destroyed by an IAK error.
It stands for Idiot At Keyboard. The post ended by
warning us not to SYSTEM ADMIN when the operator's
temperature exceeds 103<°ree;>.
9 March 1998
I'm not on Bead list; the system administrator is
posting on all fiber lists in the hope of rounding up the
lost.
I ached enough last night to make me glad I'd walked
up the last steep rise on Picard, just before turning
onto Martin, but I feel no reason not to use the bike to
pick up my book and buy supper.
I see one, however: a steady downpour outside the
window.
I'm definitely going to wear my cleats the next time I
ride to Altamont. They are a big help on hills. Got in
the habit of wearing old Red Wings while Voorheesville
was my only destination, as the road is flat & I want to
walk when I get there.
10 March 1998
Just hung a blanket on the line, and a sheet-blanket
in the cellar. That leaves the nylon-wool half blanket.
Plus the sheets still on the bed; it's time to change.
There's no such thing as an empty laundry hamper.
I'm cooking sample skeins in red-cabbage wrappers
today. The skein I cooked yesterday came out pale ice
blue, not lavender like the previous soda-and-cabbage
batch, even though I used much more cabbage, and less
water. I think it's because I used more soda -- I'm
guessing that to get lavender, the ph should be near
neutral. Alas, I'd put the tin-can lid in and soaked it
overnight before I thought that just a few onionskins
added to red cabbage and strong soda might make a pale
green. The iron skein came out neutral gray.
I added a handful of onionskins and have another skein
cooking.
11 March 1998
It's a yellow-brownish grey, but showed a hint of
green when it was wet.
Collected four green cabbage leaves while helping to
put the corned beef on to cook this morning. Green
cabbage and soda dye light ecru. Straight cabbage,
cabbage with vinegar, and cabbage with vinegar and alum
do nothing. I've added a tin-can lid, and will cook it
again tomorrow.
Broke my diet at the dinner, but not too badly --
except for the ice cream. The ice cream would have been
better without the creme de menthe, which tasted stale
despite being a newly-opened bottle.
Then I went to the cookie jar for my bedtime snack and
found that Dave had finished the open pack of graham
crackers, so I ate a mint shamrock left over from the
Auxiliary meeting.
Getting on toward St. Patrick's day, and I haven't
even ordered my potato sets.
I should check the south wall to see whether the
peppermint is showing yet. The purple crocuses don't
like this cold weather, but the yellow crocus are doing
all right.
Either that, or they are frozen stiff.
Picked up my new glasses yesterday. Used the old
frames. There was a considerable difference in the
prescription, but I adapted to it right away. Can't use
my reading focal to read the computer monitor any more
though. I seem to have worked something out -- I'm not
sure what.
Now I'm done with doctoring -- until May, when I see
the dentist.
I drove to Rite-Aid -- a complicated matter, though it
is only a few yards from the optometrist's office. That
was part of the problem, as after leaving Rite-Aid, I
couldn't get into the left-turn lane before the
intersection, and had to make another loop through 20-
Mall and Star Plaza to come home. (I'd made the first
loop because it's impossible {and illegal} to turn left
from the optometrist's exit.) It would have been much
easier to walk, were it possible to cross 155 on foot.
It's hard to believe that Rickert's new office is
much, much easier to get into and out of than his old
one. The old building still hasn't found a new tenant.
Rite-Aid didn't have bottles of pseudoephedrine
hydrochloride either. I'm beginning to think pills in
bottles have been illegalized.
12 March 1998
Dave says he's lost three pounds since I began my diet
-- but I feed him separately!
Was staring temptedly at the screen, and reflecting
that it's a bit much to give up computer games and food
both.
I haven't lost enough to show up against the
uncertainty. Should weigh immediately upon rising, to
get less variation.
Haven't been on the bike since Sunday, what with
various appointments & the cold & the strong wind.
Poets met tonight. Only five of us. Mildred was
among the missing, but she's rumored to be well. If I
knew where in Beverwyck she was, I'd make delivering the
Sheet Musics one of my training rides.
Picked up a more-readable translation of The Golden
Ass, which had come in by Interlibrary Loan. Have
yet to review Twined Knitting and MacGregor's
book, and they'll have to go back soon.
Found a bottle of spoiled cider vinegar while cleaning
a cupboard. I'm cooking a skein.
13 March 1998
Folks who avoid cider vinegar because it might stain
don't have a whole lot to worry about.
14 March 1998
Re-cooked it with the tin-can lid, the last green-
cabbage bath, and a handful of onionskins that I stole
while helping with the corned-beef-and-cabbage dinner.
It came out dark brown.
15 March 1998
Call me a watered-down Aunt Pauline. Making a
pillowcase isn't as big a deal as making a pair of
shorts, but using a Maytag in the cellar isn't as big a
deal as using a tin-plated plunger in a tub on the back
porch, either.
Our story starts yesterday, when one of the cats threw
up on the bed again. It was too late in the day to do
something as strenuous as stripping a king-sized bed, so
I mopped off the corner of the sheet and the foot of the
long pillow as best I could, then took the half blanket
downstairs, put it into the washer with the other half
blanket, and left them to soak overnight. Took a piece
of new brown wool I hadn't got around to pre-washing off
the laundry table, and put that on my half of the bed.
It might as well be dirty when I wash it the first time.
So this morning I had to change the bed even though I
haven't yet got all the pillows up off the floor from the
last time I changed the bed. Fred said he was too
comfortable for me to go jerking all the blankets off.
This did not get him much sympathy even though I'm pretty
sure it was Frieda who made this trip necessary. (If
they must have something soft underfoot, why can't they
use the bathmat?)
Contemplated the brown stain on the "body" pillow with
some consternation. I had changed that case only a few
days ago, and hadn't washed white stuff yet, so both
cases were dirty. I like to soak white things overnight
before washing them, and I don't consider a vomit stain
good reason to wash less thoroughly than usual.
Then I remembered that I'd stopped after making up one
third of the fabric I'd bought to make pillowcases,
because I wanted the old pillowcases to finish wearing
out. I dug out one of the two eight-pillowcase pieces,
tore it in half, tore one of the halves again, and made a
new case for the long pillow.
Now's a fine time to think that I could have put a
regular case on from each end, and basted them together
in the middle.
So now the sheet & a bunch of pillowcases & some
underwear are soaking in the washer, but I don't know
when I'll wash it. I have to go to the Jeep place first
thing in the morning, and I'll probably be tired after
riding my bike back. It's an easy ride through the Pine
Bush, but I'm as soft as butter.
At least I've been moving around enough that it's not
warm butter.
16 March 1998
My wrists and the backs of my hands are still dyed
navy. It seems that I have never before perspired while
wearing my black gloves.
Couldn't find my mittens, so I wore my wool gloves and
my writing mitts inside my mitten liners. Took the
mitten liners off in Guilderland; didn't think until I
was a mile or so down the road that I should have dug my
bicycle gloves out of the pannier, and worn them inside
the mitten liners. Three layers of Persian wool are a
good substitute for padded gloves; two don't do as well.
Particularly since the mitts don't cover much of my palm.
I had handed over a long list of stuff to look for,
and they found most of it -- in addition, they found a
leak in my exhaust system. Gone be three or four hundred
dollars. Dave is to drop me off on his way to work
tomorrow.
Forgot the wash entirely.
18 March 1998
I have skin-colored wrists, finally. Fetched the car
at noon yesterday, after a long wait even though they'd
promised to have it in the morning, and called to say it
would be waiting for us at noon. There's another job to
be done on it that will take an hour; they say I can come
and wait. Thought at first to come, spend four-to-six
hours exploring Schenectady on my bike, and pick it up.
Then I realized it would be much safer to drop it off one
day and ride back for it the next.
Besides, that way gets rid of twice as much fat.
Went to the Salvation Army Store, since I was out that
way. Found nothing in my size, but there were mock-
turtlenecks I'd have tried on if I'd been a bit shorter
of long-sleeved shirts. Also found two yards of fabric
that would do for testing my shirt pattern, but reflected
that I could get remnants almost as cheaply at Alfred's,
and know what they are made of.
So I came by Alfred's on the way back, but I didn't
buy anything at Stuyvesant Plaza except lunch. Supper,
actually, which left three snacks in my day's allotment.
I've switched the times of lunch and morning snack --
when I get hungry at eleven, I want a meal, not a slice
of toast, and I can't concentrate on anything until I get
it. I'd forgotten to eat my snack while Dave was having
lunch, and it was past time for the afternoon snack by
the time I got to the Bagel Bakery.
Going to Stuyvesant Plaza from Colonie took me past
Arlene's Artist Supplies, where I hung out a lot when I
needed Best Test rubber cement and other editing
supplies, so I dropped in for old time's sake. Wasn't
sure Arlene's would still be there, but it seems much the
same. They have a lot of hand-made paper and whatnot
now, and the selection of rub-on type seemed scrawny.
Like the rest of the world, I have little use for it now,
and didn't look closely. Best Test is still on display,
but occupies less than half as much shelf space, and it
isn't packed tightly and stacked up the way it used to
be.
I've been using my new wallet since last Saturday.
Works quite well, and is thinner than the Rivendale
wallet despite having more pockets, but I should have
turned the flap in less to allow more hinge to go around
my datebook. Might up and cut the stitches and re-do it;
I think there is enough extra length in the tape hiding
the raw edges in the gap to allow that.
It didn't work at all on my first expedition -- after
filling it and showing it to Dave, I left it on the
piano.
(How traditional!)
20 March 1998
The splinter floated out of my knuckle this morning.
Dave dug and dug yesterday and couldn't find it; turned
out to be a wee little thing not much longer than its
width.
Still don't know how I picked it up, but good
riddance. The inflammation is going down already; a
little bleach in the dishwater at lunchtime should finish
it.
We are waiting for better weather to schedule an
appointment for the leaky exhaust and the second recall.
It's the men's turn to run the fish fry tonight.
21 March 1998
I giggle every time I close a program and come
unexpectedly face-to-face with the wallpaper. Those of
you who read the Warsaw Times-Union have seen it: a
picture of a squirrel using its tail for an umbrella.
I told Dave to bring me a piece of cheesecake from the
fish fry, and he did! I had half of it instead of my
scheduled after-nap snack.
I expect tonight's banquet to really bend my
diet out of shape.
I hope there are some raw veggies.
22 March 1998
Nope, and the cooked vegetables were overcooked green
beans and overcooked baby carrots, neither of which I'll
eat when not faced with utter famine. And I ate the
dessert even though I don't like white cake -- could I
leave fresh strawberries forlorn?
I didn't do too badly for the evening,
though. It helps that none of the pastries served with
the coffee were good. I ate a cream puff, but felt no
urge to have another. Puff Pastry sounds so good, but I
swear, it comes out of the oven stale.
The mini-danish looked tempting, but I've been
disappointed by danish often enough that resisting was
not difficult.
I brought home part of my prime rib; perhaps I'll have
it for lunch tomorrow.
Sher took home a doggie bag, and says the doggie
really will get it: she's a 120-pound Rottweiler. With
pups.
We were in such a rush to leave that I didn't give the
cats their treat, but merely freshened their water and
dry chow. I figured it would be too late when we got
back.
The cats didn't.
We never stayed so late at a banquet; Sher hadn't been
dancing since Carl got sick, and wasn't about to let
getting sore stop her. Patty wasn't far behind, and they
drew Dave onto the floor. For one of the tunes, he was
dancing with all three of us, which reminded me of the
dress rehearsal for my high-school play.
At our mothers' request, Marvin York picked up me and
then Sandy Truit, and took us to the rehearsal. Sandy
was his girl at the time, and he drove us home by way of
an ice-cream stand in Frankfort. On the way out of the
drive-in, he said, "Did you see that fellow looking at
us? I'll bet he was wondering how I got two girls!"
When I started to get ready for bed, I realized that
all three of us had been wearing theatrical make-up.
I finally got to wear my black dress with
glitter down the front, and collected lots of
compliments. Which made me realize how it had gotten to
the thrift shop in the first place: there's no way you
can wear such a spectacular dress twice for the same
audience.
The crowd thinned out early, and we dismissed the band
nearly half an hour before one a.m., the scheduled end.
Gold Rush is a good band, but the last half hour before
we left, I went into the bar and found a table in a nook
that shielded me from some of the noise.
I'd left my pillow and blanket in the Jeep. The
predictions were so nasty that we cleared off the Jeep
and put it into the garage, but nothing much had
developed when it was time to leave, so Dave swept off
the Buick instead. Since we were to be out late I
thought that foolish even though I didn't know
how late, but it was only raining, almost too
light to notice, on the trip home. And the roads weren't
very slick, considering that it was raining on snow over
ice.
So we were surprised to find seven inches of snow on
the ground when we got up, even though they'd predicted
ten.
I was surprised to find the snow fluffy and dry, even
though it was forty degrees Fahrenheit, and I was
gathering it up with no coat on. I filled up my six-
quart kettle so I'd have pure water to dye with, and it
shrank up without getting wet even though I'd packed it
firmly, so I punched it down and packed in more two or
three times, then floated more snow in the water in the
evening. By then, the snow in the driveway had noticed
the temperature. But just barely.
I'm out of dye permutations, except for onionskin with
red cabbage and soda, and I haven't any red-cabbage
wrapper leaves.
Since cabbage is one thing I'm allowed unlimited
quantities of on my diet, I'm running out of red cabbage,
but I bought a head of green cabbage to replace it, and
experiment has proven that green cabbage doesn't do
anything interesting.
There's green cabbage in the mixture that dyes aqua,
but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't an active ingredient.
I mixed a bunch of stuff together intending to dye a
pair of socks brown, and they came out army green. I put
a sample skein in the bath afterward, and it came out
aqua. Looks great with the orange I got from onionskin
and alum. I hope it stands up to laundry. The optical
brighteners (I presume) in my laundry soap do strange
things to some dyes. I've been looking out for pure
lauryl sulfate, but only in places where I was going
anyhow, so I haven't found any yet.
29 March 1998
Rode to the firehouse today to return the towels and
aprons I got tagged to wash while we were cleaning up
after the fish fry. (All but one towel came out nice and
white, and I think that that one had been used to wipe
the floor.) Went on to climb New Salem Hill as far as
the place where the road to Thatcher Park branches off.
Could have climbed higher, but I didn't want to!
If I recall correctly, the road is less steep from
there on -- but it was above that intersection that I
once had to brake to keep from overtaking a car on my way
down.
Met Nancy H. when I was coming out of the firehouse --
she and some friends were going for a walk in the woods
behind her father's house & she was picking up one there.
I told her about the EC course I hope to take, and she
said she'd like to sign on.
Still leaves us five students short, so I doubt that
it will really happen. The last time I rode to
Voorheesville, I saw a handsome young boy who could use
some instruction, but I couldn't catch him.
Also learned on that trip why I step down so oddly far
when I step out of my shoes. While my shoes were
rattling around in the pannier, one of the half-inch
lifts came loose!
They just rest in there like afterthoughts; there is
another innersole underneath them. Also a large quantity
of cat-fur felt; I hope that removing that doesn't affect
performance.
My cycling shoes have innersoles made of wood.
Appears to be no finish on them at all -- I wonder
whether they'll warp the first time I ride in the rain.
There's a drain hole; I don't know whether that's an
indication that they can stand up to being wet, or an
indication that the maker wanted any water that got in to
get out as quickly as possible.
Spring is gesproinging. I dried a blanket outside a
few weeks ago, but the fish-fry stuff (with dishtowels
and pillowcases to fill up the washer) was the first
whole load I've hung outside.
The rhubarb is showing red noses.
Drat. Now I remember that I went to
Voorheesville to buy a bolt. I'd better put "re-assemble
tail light" on my list of things to do tomorrow, so I
won't forget again.
31 March 1998
Bought the wrong bolt. This one is a quarter inch too
long.
Amid much trepidation, I turned my glittery party
dress inside out and ran it through the washer. It
appears to be entirely unharmed -- but now my black socks
and undershirts and the inside of the laundry basket are
glittery.
Maybe that is why the pump balked at pumping out the
wash water. Dave persuaded it, and now I have a load of
shirts in.
2 April 1998
I put the blankets back on the bed last night.
Amazing how spoiled you can get after only a few days of
warm weather.
Still haven't re-assembled the tail-light. Decided
that it would be cheaper to buy a new bolt than to cut
the long one, but I forgot to stop at the hardware store
on the way to Super Valu yesterday evening.
I brought the white clothes in damp yesterday morning,
and ironed the pillowcases while Dave was having lunch.
It's a pain to prepare two lunches every day, but I feel
much better when I eat as soon as I get hungry -- I'm
even taking shorter naps.
But yesterday I dilly-dallied about going after the
pork cutlets until Dave came home: when I woke up, it
was raining cats and dogs. When I did go, there was
drainage across the road and full ditches everywhere. I
didn't think it could rain that much in such a short
time; it isn't as if the ground were frozen or already
saturated.
There wasn't enough time left to bake cutlets, but
Dave wanted yesterday's ready-to-serve meal anyway. It
was on my diet -- except for the white roll -- but I
don't like breast meat, so I hadn't planned to buy it.
The "marinated & grilled chicken breast half" was
seasoned up nicely, though.
Since we always split one meal, cooked food costs
about the same as buying raw meat.
It's still foggy out. Hope I don't regret putting the
sheets on to soak when I took the pillowcases out.
3 April 1998
More washing. Frieda -- or maybe Fred -- threw up on
the bed again. One spot on the king-size blanket, and
one on the bottom sheet, a pillowcase, and a pillow. It
seemed somehow not to have penetrated to the mattress
pad, but I took the top blanket of the pad on general
principles; it was probably time to wash it anyway. So
that was one load for one blanket, and another load today
for the other -- hung both out, since yesterday's wash
didn't dry in the cellar -- and the sheet, pillow, and
pillowcase are soaking to wash tomorrow.
Good thing I did put those sheets on to soak
yesterday, as it turned out that the linen closet was
bare. Had to iron one & leave it draped over the ironing
board for a few hours, but it was ready for the bed by
bedtime. Have the other one over the board now, but I
didn't iron it; I think it's dry enough to put into the
closet now.
Must be some way to make the cats think that the
bathmat is much cosier when you need something to dig
your claws into.
8 April 1998
I've been blaming Frieda, but the last cat we caught
throwing up was Fred.
Last Sunday, I learned that it's possible to roll a
bicycle.
Even though Mom is no longer on the mailing list, I
suppose I should hasten to add that this was not a
personal-injury accident. I didn't even get my clothes
dirty. I did find grit in my hair later on; never did
figure out how it got there -- there are holes in my
helmet, but I'd instinctively kept my head off the
ground.
I made a bad shift, stopped, figured I'd fixed it --
and in the literal sense, I had fixed it: the chain was
wedged under the cluster. Not noticing this, I stepped
on the right-foot pedal, settled my seat into the saddle,
my other foot reached for the toe clip, and I rolled
gracefully to the right.
Proper bikies do not fall to the right, but since I
was pushing the bike over with the right pedal, I didn't
have much say in the matter. I had just enough warning
to prepare myself to hit flat to spread out the bruises.
Much to my surprise, I didn't stop when I hit the
ground. Since I did, in fact, not get any bruises, I
think something hardwired in the brainstem arranged for
me to hit rolling. When I was at the stage of lying on
my back with the bike pointing straight up into the air,
I thought: well, this is one way to get out of the
traffic.
I stopped when I got onto my left side; the bike
continued and ended up a couple of feet farther from the
road. I found the contents of my pannier just outside
the white line, and my bottles were here and there. The
toolkit etc. didn't scatter because I'd tied the stuff up
in a plastic grocery bag in case of rain.
I scared all the feathers off a fellow who'd been a
block or two behind me in a car. Like to never persuaded
him it was moral to drive on and leave me there. When I
was trying to get the derailleur out of the spokes, I
wondered once or twice whether I'd been hasty in
dismissing him.
Finally got the deraileur bent out enough that I could
pedal off with the choice of high gear and little-little,
the latter a medium ratio that one normally doesn't use.
I started back at once, of course, since my goal had been
to climb Altamont Hill and there was no way I could do
that with no low gears.
With my brain distracted by the various consequences
of having a rear derailleur that didn't work, my right
hand reached down and tried to shift. So I had to bend
the derailleur some more, but when I finished, I had the
choice of three different cogs, giving me a six-speed, so
I didn't have to walk up any hills except for the short
steep spot on Picard just before I turn onto Martin.
So bright and early Monday -- not *too* early, as they
don't open until 11:00 -- it was off to Klarsfeld's.
After noticing that the hanger was bent, the mechanic --
not Klarsfeld himself; we weren't introduced -- gave up
thinking he could repair it, but it turns out that they
not only have two styles of friction shifters in stock,
the one I picked is only thirty or forty dollars. I had
thought I was in for mail order and about sixty dollars,
plus shipping.
Decided to have it overhauled and replace my shabby
handlebar pads while I was at it, and I can pick it up
next Monday. Another sweet surprise, since this is busy
season; I don't like doing without it for a week, but I'd
been afraid there would be more bikes than that in line
ahead of me.
Stopped at Stuyvesant Plaza for lunch -- and picked up
two more pieces of dry-clean-only wool to shrink and make
into blankets -- but felt so tired that I went on home
without stopping at Crossgates as I'd planned. Did stop
at Super Valu to pick up supper for Monday and yesterday.
Heard on the radio just now that the owner is trying
to unload Crossgates. But they just finished a huge
expansion!
10 April 1998
The final fish fry is over. Poor attendance, I was
told. I ate a piece of fish and brought home some pie
and cheesecake -- how long will it take to work
that off?
12 April 1998
I ate a Swanson's Mexican Combo TV dinner for supper
last night. I haven't gotten tired of eating vegetables,
whole grains, fruits, and abstemious quantities of meat,
but I'm fed up well past the gills with preparing it for
the table.
According to further rumors, Crossgates is for sale
because the owner added up what all his properties were
worth and realized he could live pretty high on the hog
just by putting it out at interest.
13 April 1998
I was preparing to go pick up my bike and drop off
Dave's when a car door slammed & here came Rand Reeves
and a student of his with the action for our piano. Took
them until three o'clock to put it in, so I settled for
the before and after: library, post office, and
supermarket.
I wonder whether I was supposed to be expecting him?
I thought he was supposed to telephone when he had all
the parts.
Piano sounds pretty good. Needs tuning, Dave says,
but it's close enough to sound right to my undiscerning
ear.
Had steak, potatoes, and raw veggies for supper.
14 April 1998
I have all the pieces for my tail-light now -- some in
my purse, some on the bike, which I intend to pick up
today. Finally got to the hardware store, and found that
they have no bolts between too long and too short, so I
clamped the too-long bolt in the vise and got out the
hacksaw and files.
Turned a bit hard, but it went together.
I'm dropping off Dave's bike for a tune-up.
15 April 1998
What a birthday present!
This morning I FINALLY had both the bike and all the
pieces of the tail-light in hand, so I went out into the
garage to install it.
I DROPPED ONE OF THE BOLTS!
Anybody know where I can buy a six-volt red light of
non-idiotic design?
And no, I can't go to the hardware store and buy
another bolt -- since the new bolts are hard to install,
it was the remaining original bolts that I was putting in
last, where it's extremely hard to get the stupid things
started.
18 April 1998
Rode to the hardware store today and bought two new
bolts. Found some "Pan head" bolts -- I think; customers
had been taking bolts out and putting them back into the
wrong boxes -- that didn't need to be cut. Bought two to
save another trip, then found that the remaining original
bolt no longer engaged, as if it were too short, so it's
lucky that I had two new bolts.
I put the original bolt in my tube-patch kit; I
suspect that it does fit on the other side -- I had to
take all the bolts out and switch them back to front.
And the only Phillips screwdriver I had along was offset,
but I finally got it all back together. Heaven help me
if I ever have to change a bulb on a dark road!
In the meanwhile, I've subscribed to
rec.bicycles.tech, but they haven't said anything about
tail-lights, and I haven't found the r.b.t. FAQ yet.
(It's extremely hazardous to post a question before
reading the FAQ, unless you've been reading avidly for
weeks.)
I've read two threads on clipless pedals, and have
discovered that I was smarter than I thought when I
decided to stick with my slot-cleat pedals. It would
appear that the "improved" cleats are hard to disengage
in an emergency, and are also inclined to disengage
unexpectedly and cause the rider to lose control of the
bike.
They are easier to walk on; some even come
with clip-on soles for walking -- but the price you pay
is that you can't ride in walking shoes at all.
I wore walking shoes to the hardware store today,
because there aren't any hills between here and there,
and because wearing cleats into a store is as
inconvenient as changing shoes.
Then I came back the long way, where there
are hills. Didn't have to walk any of them, so
I've gotten stronger despite my spotty training.
19 April 1998
Meant yesterday's ride to be a warm-up to resuming my
interrupted attempt to climb Altamont Hill, but it's been
drizzling rain all day. Hope it encourages the potatoes
I planted last Thursday and the multipliers I planted
last Friday.
22 April 1998
I forgot that Dave's bike would be ready to pick up
today, but he didn't -- he picked it up on his lunch
hour, and went for a few laps around the high school
parking lot after supper.
I overnapped, and drove to Super Valu for a dinner of
"manicotti stuffed with ricotta and store-made Italian
sausage." Sounded like lasagna to me, but when I picked
it up, I found that there was supposed to be a comma
after ricotta -- we got two manicotti and one sausage.
Strictly not on my diet, but we split one
entre and Dave ate all of the salad, while I
nibbled on a relish plate. I never liked tossed salad
much, except as chips to dip into blue-cheese sauce. I
chose a low-fat French dressing, which he enjoyed as a
change of pace. (I think that French dressing tastes
like an accident that happened when you were dishing up
mayonnaise, corn syrup, and ketchup.)
Dug up a clump of winter onions this morning, put the
white tips into serving bowls, and boiled up the greens
to dye yarn. Not my first experiment; there isn't a
bunch of color in oniontops, & I've gotten only pale
yellow and brownish ecru. For this batch I put in three
times as much as the pan would hold -- I cooked until it
shrank and added two more installments & suspect that a
portion of the broth is cooked-out juice. [I poured off
significantly more than the pint of water I started
with.]
Showed the wet yarn to Dave & he said "doesn't look
much different than not doing it." But if you hold it up
to the ball, it's definitely darker. Looks about the
same as yarn dyed with a tiny fraction of the dyestuff,
though.
I plan to try my boiled greens with alum tomorrow --
alum on a smaller sample of onion top gave a darker
yellow.
Then I'll strain it and combine it with a previous
bath that I've got my rusty tin-can lid soaking in.
The winter-onion bed is crowded and weedy; pity the
tops aren't more interesting!
The rhubarb is up. I didn't inspect the potatoes and
onions today; they weren't doing anything the last time I
looked.
I went to Altamont yesterday. Took less than two
hours even though I had a snack stop. Chickened out of
climbing the hill; pulled over to let a car pass, and
decided that I might as well turn around. I think it was
already as steep as it was going to get, though, and I
wasn't working too hard.
Hope I can persuade Dave to have the floors done this
summer rather than the summer after next, but I'm not
looking forward to staying off the floor for four days.
We aren't having the upstairs refinished, but we'll get
there only by going outside and bridging a plank from the
porch to the staircase.
The kitchen will remain in operation -- if we don't
mind the dust and fumes.
Told Dave that would be a good time to go to Lake
George and ride the Minnie-ha-ha. He suggested that I
fly to Indiana instead.
23 April 1998
It's been a week since I planted potatoes and onions;
I think it's time I saw a little action. It was raining
when I came home from the Auxiliary meeting; that may
help.
I notice that I posted a rather grumpy entry for my
birthday; things looked up a bit at Red Lobster that
evening! I wore Grandmother's watch, on a gold-filled
chain that Dave bought for it.
25 April 1998
For exercise today, I decided to ride my bike to the
hardware store to buy numbers to stick onto our new
mailbox, continue on to the fabric store to buy a couple
of packets of black small-cord elastic for pigtail
holders, then come home the hilly way, about five miles
total.
The hardware store was out of 3" letters -- I bought a
set of small numbers for the door of the box -- and the
fabric store doesn't sell small-cord elastic -- I bought
a couple of yards of a fatter white cord to tide me over.
Nice day for a ride. Threatened to sprinkle a bit on
the last leg, which made me ride faster.
As did being overtaken by a guy in black shorts soon
after I left the fabric shop. Lost sight of him after a
mile or so, as the road is hilly & he could climb faster.
The new mailbox occupies most of our back entry. Dave
was sure I'd bought a box bigger than the one that the
door has rusted off of. I thought so too, and took a
ruler to both. The new one is either an exact duplicate
or a smidgiken smaller.
Told him we should give the old one to someone with a
small dog.
Rust and all, the large box and the small one match.
Margie and I went to Crannell's together to buy them, and
felt odd to turn around and come home again after only
one errand. I think that that was the only time we went
anywhere together.
26 April 1998
Dave went number-hunting today, and brought home a
perfect match for the set I bought for the door. He even
remembered to buy six! (We plan to put "444" on each
side.)
Whenever two zeros roll up on the calendar, people
start acting odd; I read a contemporary account of the
end of the nineteenth century in which people made
themselves "book muslin" robes and went to stand on
mountaintops. (A long session with a pile of
dictionaries revealed that cotton organdy once came
accordion-folded into "books".)
I thought it sufficiently odd that substantial numbers
of people not only believe that the second millenium ends
at the beginning of its two-thousandth year,
they think it's terribly important, and become angry if
you try to explain.
Recently I've discovered that a large group believes
fervently that all computers will stop dead at the stroke
of midnight on January 1, 2000 A.D.
Cars won't run, because there are microchips in the
engines. Your Mr. Coffee won't drip, your bike computer
won't count miles, elevators will freeze, airplanes will
crash, every turbine in every power plant will stop
turning. The banking system will vanish, food won't be
delivered, unpaid policemen and soldiers will join the
rioters. The lucky few who believed and prepared will
dash out into the wilderness and re-create the blessedly
computer-free eighteenth century.
They seem to think that there's a wilderness to flee
into. Perhaps trees will spring up in the fields when
the farmers' computers crash!
I rode my computerless bike to Altamont today. Didn't
even look at Altamont hill, but this made reasonably long
rides two days in a row, and being able to do it again
tomorrow is an important part of getting into shape.
I came back by Gardener Road, just for variety. It's
a little farther than making a U-turn in the
convenience-store parking lot and going back the way I
came.
2 May 1998
Today was Dave's sixtieth birthday, but his date stood
him up, so we went out for pizza as usual.
I baked a batch of Joy of Cooking's Brownies Cockaigne
(with walnuts instead of pecans) in an eight-inch square
pan, melted about three-fourths of a bag of chocolate
chips on top, and stuck more walnuts into the frosting.
It was still warm when Dave cut himself a slice after we
came back from Smitty's.
3 May 1998
Three-fourths of a bag was too many; a chocolate coat
should be thin enough to be fussy to spread.
The cake is in the freezer now. Most of it.
We still haven't heard from Nancy, & are starting to
worry.
And I am yearning for frozen cake.
4 May 1998
A good-news, bad-news joke about my state of mind:
when I saw a headline saying "Hubbel Tapes Unwind", my
first thought was that there was data from the telescope
-- but I immediately realized what it really was.
Later I read "Silver backs bill" as a revival of the
silver certificate.
I presume that many of you haven't heard of NYS
Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver.
4 May 1998
I found a tip on Fibernet for those who live near
cornfields and have grandchildren to amuse. You braid
cornhusks like onions, beginning with the tapered end and
leaving the butts of the husks sticking out to make the
braid rough on one side. Then you sew the braid together
the way you sew a braided rug -- I wonder whether #8
cotton is a decent substitute for button-and-carpet
thread? -- and make a door mat. The poster said that the
mats made that way are very tough and last for ages.
By the way, my e-mail address is
jbeeson@global2000.net. Use the same address to write
Dave -- unless it's on R&P business, in which case you'd
send it to dbeeson@global2000.net. He can download that
address from home, but he never does because he wants
stuff sent to it to be on his office computer.
6 May 1998
Ah, brotherhood: Dave and our next-door neighbor are
both driving their little tractors around the back yard.
Got my teeth polished today. Nothing wrong -- except
that I forgot to get a receipt for the tax files. I was
meaning to ride my bike for exercise tomorrow; now I have
somewhere to go. I mean to stop at both schools and
count the bikes parked outside, then count the working
brakes. Chances are, alas, that I can get an accurate
count without meddling with other people's property.
I'll count as "working" anything that has a full set of
parts, reasonably near the correct positions.
For the parents among you: inspect your children's
bikes. They have to be told that when a brake falls off,
something can be done about it; you can't count on them
to complain. I've seen boys old enough to drive riding
with the brake cable looped around the seat post.
7 May 1998
Chickened out. Just as well. When I took a turn
around the high school parking lot after supper, I found
that one of my toe straps was broken. Odd that it didn't
break while I was using it, but while the bike was
parked.
8 May 1998
Stole a strap from Dave's Fuji. Must get to
Klarsfeldt's soon.
When I got up from yesterday's afternoon nap -- down
to one hour now, which I attribute to the diet -- the
grass was finally dry enough to mow. So I mowed
the front lot. (Dave had mowed the back .49 the previous
day, when it was almost dry enough to mow.)
When I finished the job, I looked at all the hay lying
around, then I looked up and down the road: nothing but
hay as far as the eye could see, except for Danny's lawn.
The boys had carried off the clippings piled high in a
pickup truck.
Obscene to haul all that good fertilizer to the
landfill.
I still have to mow the back yard, but I doubt that it
will be dry enough any time soon.
The water stopped running about 11:30 yesterday.
Fifteen minutes later it was back on, and I finished
rinsing the dishes -- careful not to use any water that
hadn't been through the heater. Good thing I was running
water at the time, because I seldom spend a lot of time
contemplating the pot after I flush, and I might have
failed to notice that the water is dirty.
And wouldn't you know, I didn't think to put more
seltzer in the fridge until I'd killed the current
bottle?
At least I'd seen to it that there is plenty in the
cellar.
No explanation given. Dave drives along the water
main when he comes home for lunch, but he didn't see
anything unusual.
Of course "usual" includes two one-lane bridges
surrounded by construction, and I saw a half-dozen Ni-Mo
cherry pickers the last time I went to the store.
No glitches in the power; I haven't the foggiest idea
what Ni-Mo was up there for. Seemed to be fiddling with
the lines, which seems like an odd thing to do when the
power is on.
Garden is much weedier than usual this spring -- the
bindweed is already up, though not yet common enough to
alarm the unwary, and there are a hundred times as many
catnip plants as I left last fall. I'm making very slow
progress at clearing space to plant.
The showers don't help much. One end of the garden
wasn't dry enough to work the last time I did. Only in
the corner that's shaded by the pine trees, so I pushed
the cultivator through it anyway.
8 May 1998
I'm getting some action out of the multipliers and the
sprouted potatoes from the cellar, but none from the
Yukon Gold sets.
Now the old mailbox is taking up most of our recycling
bin. I did the job myself, after Dave explained that it
was only a matter of taking out and replacing screws.
Luckily, there were holes in the new box to match those
that we'd used in the old one. (Not all the holes
matched, but the ones I needed did.)
I decided to count brakes on children's bikes today,
so I rode to the high school and the grade school in the
morning. Not one bike at either institution, though
there were two rusting bike-locks on the high-school
rack. I came back by way of Altamont Road and Tygert, to
make the trip long enough to be interesting. And to save
coming back over the half bridge. Though I didn't cross
it the first time; I used the two bridges that connect
the grade school to its parking lot, one once and the
other twice, to end up on the opposite side of the creek.
I wandered the grounds a bit, thinking there might be
signs of bike storage somewhere.
There were some parents or teachers coming and going;
I should have asked whether the children have been
forbidden to ride bikes for some reason. Could hardly be
the construction, since a special bridge for children was
built right by the crossing guard.
Perhaps they couldn't understand about walking bikes
across the foot bridge.
I think they should take down the "sidewalk closed"
sign now that there is no other trace of the sidewalk
that's closed. Since it was on the bridge, even the
place where it was is gone.
Or, at least, add "detour" and an arrow pointing at
the children's bridge. But when the children use it, Kay
is there to point the way -- and the "sidewalk closed"
sign is edge-on to them.
9 May 1998
Finally finished my smock today. Still have to piece
scraps together to make a patch pocket. I plan to try a
princess seam instead of pleats on the next one. No
suitable fabric in the house -- when I end up piecing a
patch pocket, I don't want any more of saying "I think I
can get it out of this" -- but at the rate I'm going, it
will be a couple of months before I get around to
drafting the pattern.
I have a piece of linen on order to make new pants.
The Jas. Townsend & Son catalog says that it's suitable
for breeches & haversacks, but I greatly fear that they
mean that it holds up well for people who go to only one
re-enactment a year.
Couldn't find a black twill that wasn't guaranteed to
fade, so I've bought white! Well, the technical term for
unbleached linen is "brown", but it isn't going to be
very dark. I figure stained linen won't look any worse
than faded bull denim.
The fabrics I'm buying don't wear like the old stuff
that sold under the same names. I've read that there's a
new cotton-spinning method that's so much cheaper that
everyone is using it, but the fabric made from such
thread isn't soft. That's consistent with what I'm
seeing in yard goods. Pity there isn't enough custom
sewing for anyone to market luxury yard goods. The place
where I read about spinning methods advertised "ring
spun" jeans, at a healthy premium.
I don't at all like the new standard width of 60". Do
they think we are making tablecloths? Fabric five feet
wide is strenuous to cut, and to get enough fabric to
make a pair of pants, I have to buy enough to make a pair
and a half. I've considered buying twice as much and
making three pairs, but I wear out only one pair a year.
13 May 1998
My breeches linen arrived today. It was so
beautifully beetled that I hated to put it into the
washer; I'll never iron it that flat again.
I must get on with the princess stage of my blouse
design: since the front pieces will be narrow, I think
that clever cutting might get a short-sleeved shirt and a
pair of pants out of three yards of 60" fabric.
The spool of linen thread I bought on impulse appears
to have been wound by hand: perhaps Jas. Townsend & sons
buy it on three-pound cones and wind it off?
Re-mowed most of the front yard yesterday, while Dave
re-mowed the back .49 and mowed half the back yard.
Today I mowed the part of the back that Dave couldn't get
with the riding mower -- while the dew was still on (at
10:00 am), because it's under the clothes line and I had
a load of whites in the washer. It has been sunny all
day, so I hope to finish up this afternoon. The parts we
didn't get at on the Thursday of No Rain are progressing
from hay into straw.
Something drastic was happening at 156 & 85A when I
lay down for my nap. That's between two construction
sites, and the light for the bridge by the grade school
snarls traffic at that intersection already. Traffic is
slowed so much it's hard to imagine anyone hitting
anything hard enough to call for heavy rescue.
With any luck, it won't be explained in
tomorrow's Enterprise, which we get by mail the day
after. Non-fatal traffic wrecks are too common to report
unless there's a dramatic hunt for a hit-and-run driver,
and though I couldn't make out what was going on, I did
get the impression that everyone involved was breathing.
14 May 1998
Dave says that a man fell down one of the holes
drilled for the pillars of the new bridge.
That must have been embarrassing.
Told Dave that we should get the floor done this
summer, before the patch where the finish is off entirely
gets ruined. He said, "But it isn't ruined yet."
Men!
I've cultivated about half the garden, and moved about
ten percent of the pile of mulch. Surprising how quickly
I get tired when forking mulch; guess I don't do anything
else remotely like it.
At least the Culta-Eze lets me do most of the hoeing
with my legs.
The Yukon Golds are up. I stepped on a potato beetle.
I'm not sure I got him -- the ground is soft, & I didn't
see him afterward.
I found some of the white fabric I'd used to piece a
facing on my garden smock & made pockets from that.
Then, because I was angry with Dave, I sat down and cut
all the little blue-striped scraps into precise, thread-
straight 2" squares and started a quilt collection.
The poor dear tried to persuade me to like MS Word. I
used that program to get out the Bikeabout a few years
ago -- just before I
frantically bought MS
Publisher -- and I still scream with pain every time
someone reminds me of the experience.
I'm not wearing either of my cotton smocks, because I
want to put some wear on the polyester smocks while it's
still cool enough to wear them.
I put the linen on to soak yesterday, then this
morning I threw in a black towel and a pile of black
socks.
And I knew where the word "lint" came from!
Wet, the linen is an attractive dark gray -- with a
couple of glowing blue spots where detergent touched it.
I had thought I was being careful. Perhaps it will even
out when I wash it again in a few days. I plan to put it
through the hot dryer at the laundromat when I put the
blanket material through the tumble washer.
16 May 1998
Department of I shoulda knowed: I wondered whether
Nate's page was registered with Alta Vista, and searched
for "Nate Beeson". I didn't find the page, but I did
find four reports on the Warsaw High tennis team.
There are lots of Joes and Steves in the world, but I
followed the word "tennis" to Joe. "Lecklitner" turned
up a bike racer, a list of the graves in Beard Cemetery
in Owasco, and three ARRL pages.
Still haven't planted any seeds, but I did get a strip
of garden cleared to make the row in. Also moved a
little mulch, and re-mowed the back yard. Still covered
with hay, but I chopped it up and blew it around some.
Also made the grass much less uneven!
We went to the Gold Coin tonight & had Hunan chicken.
I forgot to buy food for Sunday, & the canned goods I
keep for such occasions are looking a little picked over.
17 May 1998
I got a collect call from Jennifer today, so I guess
that that isn't an urban legend. I hung up on "her" the
instant the recording failed to give a last name. We
must be careful to check the phone bill for unexplained
charges.
I just plowed a row in the newly-weeded strip, and
planted the five-packet "herb garden" I bought from a
cute little kid last spring, and also the rest of a
packet left from my attempt to grow flowers from seed
last summer. In case I ask, the order, from south to
north, is dill, thyme, calendula, chives, parsley, and
oregano.
I'd been wondering what to do with the sunflower seeds
Nancy gave me. Today I noticed a little bay of
cultivated but unused soil on this side of the sunchoke
bed. I wanted the flowers scattered for effect, but I
also wanted them in rows so I could tell which weeds to
pull. I ended up plowing diagonal lines across the bay,
then I planted a row of stakes running north-and-south,
one in each row, and planted seed from the far end to the
stake in each row. It should look chaotic enough when
the plants grow tall, and sunflowers should harmonize
with jerusalem artichokes.
Even if Dave did "accidentally" mow off the back third
of the bed. Do all men love plain, bare lawn? I think
it must be some remnant of the instinct to clear a space
around the den so that you can see what is sneaking up on
your cubs.
19 May 1998
Washed my old denims today, and hung them on the line
inside-out. From a distance, they look exactly like my
new linen, and the color on that side is perfectly
uniform. Perhaps I'll go back to bull denim for the next
pair, and use the wrong side.
Remembered to take the trash out, for a change. Also
remembered to dismantle the mailbox box and put it out.
With Voorheesville's Memorial-day celebration coming
up, I should collect up stuff to put out by the road with
a sign saying "free".
Checked to make sure I could find Dave's parade
uniform. Discovered that he has three long-sleeved dress
shirts. I'd thought that his powerhouse shirt was the
only one with long sleeves.
20 May 1998
I drew up a princess pattern after supper. It was
much easier than I expected it to be -- but sewing it up
might be another matter. Perhaps I'd better buy lots of
cloth, if I find something cheap and 100% cotton.
I didn't make a princess back -- I'll use the same
action back that I used with the pleated smock -- but the
back should be a piece of cake after I get the front
fitted.
It's also time to start thinking about designing long
sleeves -- I don't like to wear my "garden" smocks
outside because the sun makes my elbows itch.
Luckily, I still have a lot of poncho shirts, and I
could make more quickly.
Haven't got the summer stuff out yet, but I've been
dressing out of the spare-room closet.
22 May 1998
Drat. The lawn needs mowing, this is a perfect day to
do it, I put on my hat and went out to the garage -- and
remembered that the walk-behind is leaking gas.
And I let Dave run off to his golf game without
helping me to load it into the Jeep.
I briefly considered using the riding mower, but the
lawn looks better uniformly shaggy than chewed up in
streaks with un-mowed patches around every tree. Takes
me longer to clean up after the rider than to do the
whole job with the walker -- and I don't have a walker to
clean up with.
Dave plans to take his vacation in installments, one
day of golf a week. That should help with his diet, so I
hope he has lots of fun today!
I rode my bike to Stuyvesant Plaza yesterday. The
previous day, I looked at the map, thought that Grant
Hill and 20 was too long, and decided to go out by
Normanskill-Johnston, then come back by Krumkill if I
felt good, and come back the way I came if I was tired.
I cut through Church and Woodlake to Schoolhouse, as
usual. Technically, going through Woodlake is
trespassing, but none of the residents ever frown at me;
despite the gray hair, I think they assume that anyone on
a bike is a neighborhood kid.
This time I paid for my trespass: The bridge on
Schoolhouse is under construction, and one-lane bridges
are a real BEAR on a bicycle. I noted that coming back
would be even more strenuous, since the approach would be
uphill.
I got out of the Book House without buying anything,
for about the umpteenth consecutive time; perhaps I
should consult a doctor. I bought four yards of Alfred's
clearance fabric to test my shirt pattern with. Should
have gotten some of the Madras for the next incarnation,
but got distracted trying to guess whether the unmarked
calico is all cotton. Seems to be a pretty good
imitation, if it's fake. The proof is in the sweating!
When I turned out of the parking lot onto 20, I passed
by the turn onto Schoolhouse, forgetting that Church
doesn't connect to Krumkill. Come to think of it, I
could have cut through Woodlake again, but that doesn't
matter because I forgot about setting up for Church until
after I saw it. Briefly considered turning back, but I'd
measured the map, and it is only three miles from the
plaza to 155, where I turn off for Grant Hill, so I
forged onward through what appeared, despite the time of
day (I got home at 2:00), to be rush-hour traffic.
Then I spotted the Grand Union & realized that I could
get onto Johnston without making a left turn, so I
swerved onto the new section of Rapp. Happened to be
just the right stage of the lights to allow a U-turn
almost at once. If traffic had been as heavy on Rapp as
on 20, I'd have been committed to going to Crossgates.
So I ended up coming back the way I went after all.
Perhaps I should have zig-zagged some, but it's better
to do too little than too much, as long as you're doing
*something*.
By the time I washed my clothes and took a shower, it
was too late in the day to nap -- it was probably too
late as soon as I drank that half-quart of cola!
Well, I had to get sugar someplace. There were a
couple of bananas in the house, but I hate to waste a
good excuse to consume unwholesome food.
24 May 1998
Dave had a nosebleed on his white nightshirt this
morning, and instead of hunting up enough whites to make
a load, I put in the linen and the calico. The linen
didn't glow in the sunshine anywhere, and the calico
didn't muss much. I think I'll iron and cut them without
further washing.
Rode my bike to Voorheesville for the parade
yesterday. Shilly-shallied over the shoes. Decided to
ride in walkers, since there are no hills, then decided
to take a cycling suit in case I decided to go somewhere
afterward (I can change in the restroom at the library),
then I decided that if I was taking my cleats I might as
well wear them, but I didn't sit down to put my gaiters
on until fifteen minutes before the parade was supposed
to step off -- no sweat, since they never step off in
time, but I figured I'd have to walk around a road block,
so I carried the cleats after all.
And then there wasn't any roadblock.
I bought five books for three dollars at the book
sale. Thought I could read just one out of the book of
short stories before going up to bed, and stayed up until
after one in the morning. Weren't anything special in
the way of stories, either.
Also bought a paperback novel, The Elements of
Weaving, Judith Martin's Common Courtesy, and
Orwell's The Road to Wigan Pier.
25 May 1998
Dave charcoal-grilled a couple of hamburgers for
supper, and I made potato salad.
I'd been meaning for weeks to try using yogurt instead
of mayo. Quite good, but you have to use so much more
that it probably comes out about the same in calories --
and you have to stir the salad because the dressing tends
to settle out.
I also put in a dash of basalmic vinegar and a few
drops of almond oil. Plus the usual seasonings -- the
winter onions still have good greens even though they've
already begun to form bulbs.
Moved some more mulch today, and decreased the size of
the uncultivated patch. It's gotten so weedy I have to
spade it. First time I've spaded since buying the
spading fork (which I bought for digging potatoes and
moving plants.) It goes into the ground easier than a
spade, and turns over a much bigger clod, but I don't
think it would break sod.
Also crushed more than half a dozen potato beetles --
in my garden large rocks suitable for the purpose are
always within reach -- then dusted the plants with
rotenone.
Past time I bought a tomato plant. Indian ladder and
Super Valu have six-packs; I'm hoping that Olsen or Our
Family's Harvest will have singles in pots.
So the partying is all over and Memorial Day isn't
until next Saturday.
Dave went to the driving range instead of the golf
course last Friday, so he came home early enough to whap
the carburetor, whereupon it stopped leaking & I did get
the front mowed. We still need to take it to the
mechanic, though, as it's "hunting" worse than ever.
I don't like the way the Jeep idles, either.
Bike seems to be running pretty well. On the other
hand, I don't like the way the engine idles.
26 May 1998
Pulled up a couple of stray garlics while reducing the
size of the weed patch, and found well-formed bulbs on
them.
29 May 1998
I nearly fell asleep in my chair at the Auxiliary
meeting tonight, but coming home and putting my head on
the pillow was a different matter.
Didn't help that I tried to use the library today.
First they cancelled their subscription to the paper
Books in Print because the electronic version is cheaper
and updated more often -- but failed to subscribe to the
electronic version. Now they've gotten rid of the card
catalog, but won't tell you how to find the non-card
catalog. The computers are left running a program that
at first glance appears to be a catalog, but after
fiddling with it for a while, one gradually becomes aware
that it never occurred to the programmers that a user
might be wondering what books are in the library --
though you can pick any particular book and get a "not at
this site" or an "at this site" message. The only book
that I got an "at this site" message for, though, was
said to be in, but wasn't on the shelf.
There's a "help" button, but the help file is in
desperate need of a help file. I clicked on "how to use
this file" and got three or four screens of words that
said only that you guess what name your topic was called
by, and if you guess right, you get a window full of
words that don't tell you anything in particular.
Doesn't appear to be any "topic" on what the program is
for or what it is supposed to do.
I suppose it's worth the librarians' while to take a
six-weeks course in how to make the program divulge
information, but even if there were such a course, I'd
never complete it before the program had been replaced
twice.
I wonder what the program is called?
The morning went quite well. I decided it was time to
extend my cycling range, and calculated that Feura Bush
was about as far away as Westmere (Which is where I went
the last time), but hillier. So I set out in search of
Whitbeck's Restaurant Supply, to see whether they sell
lemon squeezers suitable for lemonade stands at the
Punkintown Fair. I didn't find Feura Bush (blinked and
missed it), but I did find Whitbeck's. It isn't a store,
but the boy looked in his catalog and found that they
don't sell lemon squeezers. I have two more references
to check out.
Stopped at Our Family's Harvest, which has only hot
peppers and cherry tomatoes as singles, then went to
Olsen's, which has no singles at all.
After that I drank a WhipperSnapple at the new
convenient where Stonewell Market used to be -- there's a
thrift shop in the annex where the bread and cat food
used to be, the new convenient has perhaps half of the
main part of the store, and there's a sign up saying that
the motorcycle shop is going to move into the rest of it.
They haven't got all their merchandise in yet, which
gives the shop a spacious air. I heard the clerk telling
someone that they couldn't stock whatever he had
suggested, because that space was going to be filled up
with ice cream pretty soon. I hope they mean the big
cartons to hand-dip out of. They have a selection of
frozen novelties in the other half of the little freezer.
There's nothing there I'd drive past Super Valu to
get, but they appear to be well set to intercept
picnickers headed up to Thatcher Park, and there are a
few necessities for people who would have to go out of
their way to get to Super Valu or the new store on the
other side of Tollgate. Albany cyclists on their way to
test themselves on New Salem Hill pass Stonewell too, but
they'd need a washroom to attract bikies, and though
bikies eat a lot, they don't eat much at any one stop.
And I didn't notice any bananas.
But stopping at the library on the way through the
village was a mistake, even though going that way meant
missing two one-lane bridges.
Rumor has it that they plan to work on those two
bridges ALL SUMMER. And there are no alternate routes
for most people; at rush hour, traffic backs up clear to
Super Valu and makes it hard to get out of the parking
lot. And the line for the other light backs up past
Smitty's and makes it hard to get out of the Mobil
station. That one is a ninety-second light, and at rush
hour you have to sit through at least two changes. On
three roads, since the bridge is close to an
intersection. Which is why it takes ninety seconds --
each of the three roads has to be allowed its turn at the
intersection, and the bridge has to empty between green
times.
Prophetic plate? A sheriff just called in a traffic
stop: New York vanity "SORRY DAD".
2 June 1998
From a sig line: "I always wanted to be a
procrastinator, but I never got around to it."
Noticed just now that all my fingertips are cold
except the one with a splinter in it. Haven't been able
to find the splinter, so I've been putting it in bleach
in a medicine glass now and again, hoping to dissolve the
callus covering it.
3 June 1998
All my fingers are the same temperature today.
Yesterday, I finally managed to pick the lid off the
infection with a corsage pin, and the splinter must have
come out with the pus, because it started to improve at
once. That wasn't the most sterile way to open it, but I
soaked in another drop of bleach to clean off the ragged
bits, and that must have disinfected it pretty well.
The nail on that finger doesn't extend beyond the
quick. I don't think it dissolved . . .
Got more exercise than I planned on. We were out of
lunch meat and bread, so I intended to go to the store
early, stopping for milk and going on around the block to
check out the rumor that Our Family's Harvest has
strawberries, then start cutting my daygown. Good thing
I started early: the Jeep wouldn't start.
So I hurried into my cycling suit -- it's been so warm
I didn't put on a long-sleeved shirt under it, which was
a mistake, but I did go down to the laundry and retrieve
my tights, which I'd planned to wash and put away for the
summer.
Trimmed the trip to just the grocery, to save time and
be sure to get back for lunch -- then I stopped at the
library to see whether Blood Trillium was on the
shelf. It was, and the note in the computer was still
"in", so I guess that "in" means in the library after
all, and not "in circulation" as I was beginning to
think. It must have been on the reshelving cart when I
looked before.
As I was leaving, the interlibrary loan van drove up.
Sho'nuff, I got a call for White Jade Fox this
afternoon, just as I would have been falling asleep if I
hadn't already got up to tell a woman in the parking lot
that Danny's phone number is on the "for sale" sign on
the car -- noticed later that it's also on the "for sale"
sign for the house; I should ask him to write it big
enough for people to see that it's there.
I'd been reading Blood Trillium before my nap,
so I'll want to finish that first, and there's only two
weeks on White Jade Fox. I'd best spend less time
reading e-mail for a while.
Blood Trillium isn't shaping up to much, but I
want to read Golden Trillium, & I like my books in
sequence.
I think the story of how the trilogy came to be
written would be more interesting than the one it tells,
but I don't think any one of the three authors is in
rec.arts.sf.composition.
I got back in time for lunch, but I still haven't
touched knife to fabric.
4 June 1998
Bit of a scare, there. I just read in Threads that
natural-colored linen and pants with wide legs will be
the height of fashion for spring. But then I realized
that spring is nearly over, and I have yet to cut my
linen.
Went up New Salem Hill, through Thatcher Park, and
down into Altamont for exercise today. Not a very long
trip, if you discount the 1200 feet of elevation gain; I
didn't leave until after a quarter past eleven, and it
struck three while I was changing back into walking
shoes.
This route constitutes the final leg of a half-century
ride called "Old Lady's Day Trip"; when I remembered
that, I named today's trip "Granny Tour" -- when I ran
out of ferocious steep hill, I acquired a ferocious stiff
headwind.
(The very lowest gear on a bike is called "granny".)
I was fighting the wind so hard that I missed the
turn-off onto Old Stage Road, which was unfortunate,
because I don't recall having taken that option before
and I wanted to try it. It was even more unfortunate in
that Old Stage runs through a thick stand of trees that
would have moderated the wind.
I motivated this trip by saying I'd have an ice-cream
cone at Altamont Diner, but by the time I got there, a
bowl of chili sounded much better. I chose to eat it
outside, and a gust of wind blew it off the picnic table.
It was so thick that most of it stayed in the styrofoam
cup, but what didn't made an embarrassing mess.
Slept until well after five o'clock, having taken care
to engulf a bunch of sweet stuff before lying down. I
seem not to be sore at all, though I was aching tired
when I got home.
Finished Blood Trillium tonight, by dint of
skipping large swaths.
5 June 1998
Noticed that the Fleur di lis on a bottle of "Chateau"
peroxide looked very like the Boy Scout emblem, &
commenced to wondering where the emblem came from. Any
of you Scouts out there know?
Indian Ladder now has single plants in pots -- but I
don't recognize any of the variety names, so I don't know
whether I'd be getting a plum tomato, pear tomato, yellow
tomato, cherry tomato, bush tomato, sprawling tomato,
climbing tomato . . . besides, drinking the diluted
tomato paste everyone is passing off as canned tomato
juice gives me thoughts of buying a six-pack after all,
even though I'll most likely be gone for two weeks of
canning season.
Took the potato-beetle poison out of the box, and
found a packet of Scarlet Runner seed and a packet of
Yellow Current Tomato seed that I'd forgotten about.
Perhaps I should seal them up in something airtight & put
them in the freezer. Might not be too late to plant the
beans; they'll make vines even if they don't bloom before
frost.
June 6, 1998
Ate the first berry off the Joe Rickets vines today.
Dave is burning down a house.
June 10 1998
Got twelve tomato plants: six Big Boy, six Tom Thumb.
I plan to plant the Tom Thumb and the St. John's wort
tonight; I set the Big Boys out the day before yesterday.
The still-potted plants wilted while I was out riding
today. Went to Interstate Avenue to pick up a lemon
squeezer. Turned out to be too delicate to strap to my
bike -- I'd expected it to be packed in a shipping
carton, since it was a special order -- but it was a
lovely ride otherwise. Except for the left turn off
Railroad Avenue onto Fuller!
Saw a big "Cheapo Depot" sign & thought I'd have some
fun in a second-hand store, but I couldn't find any
building or door that seemed to be associated; there was
a print shop where I expected the Cheapo Depot. It was
an expensive and freshly-painted sign, so I don't think
it's left over from something.
I did make it to "Just a Second", the used-computer
store. This time I noticed that the steps up to the
building are built over tracks, and realized that the
balcony along the front of the building is really a
boarding platform. Probably a loading platform, in this
neighborhood.
They are tearing the tracks out of Railroad Avenue.
First time I visited that end of it, I met a train.
While I was lying on the tracks, having tripped over them
while dodging a truck. Which upset me so much that I
didn't notice that the crash had dislodged my brake cable
until the next intersection. I remember that day
distinctly, and didn't go back for many years.
I still regret the loss of the tracks.
Last Monday I went to Price Chopper to cash in my
"Frequently Friskies" coupon, and buy two more three-
pound sacks of cat food for the freezer -- a one-pound
box lasts the little guys about two days.
And on the way back, I stopped at Guilderland Library,
which I've been meaning to do ever since I found out that
their copy of Warriner's "English Language and
Composition" didn't circulate.
Price chopper had only two bags of cat food, and
Guilderland had thrown away "English Grammar" & had no
note that they'd ever owned it.
But I made it up Grant Hill with only one granny stop.
Today I made it almost to the top before I had to stop
and let my heart rate drop a bit.
12 June 1998
A dark and gloomy day. After ten, and the cats are
still in bed. In spirit, I'm with them. I spent the
morning knitting a little green swatch and starting a
little blue sock -- badges for the knitters' expedition
I'm taking next Tuesday.
When I rustled out my membership badges, I was
surprised at how many of them I have. So I threw in such
things as my 25 wpm pin from typing class and the Step in
Line for '89 badge. Also the Gear '89 badge and the We
Moved the Library '89 badge. (I slept through '90!)
For membership badges proper, there's the green swatch
for Techknit, the blue sock for Knitlist, a blue skein
for Fibernet, a pin for Arachne (lace list), a pin for
Ring of Tatters (snail), a tie tack for MHW (now Mohawk-
Hudson Cycling Club). Nothing for Adventure Cycling,
Tatlist, or Tat Chat.
I have a membership-number bicycle tag for Ultra-
Marathon Cycling Association, but I'm not going to pin it
to my hat.
I wonder where I put my embroidered patches? When I
gave most of them to an E.C. instructor -- or was it a
publicity chairman? -- I kept the membership patches and
my Effective Cycling patch.
The rain will be good for the tomatoes I set out
yesterday. I know, I said I'd do it the day before. I
did finish moving the mulch off the tomato plot that day,
and culta-eze the entire garden. And spade up another
forkful of the weed patch.
The St. John's Wort is still in the pot. I looked it
up on the Web, having mislaid my copy of the Organic
Gardening Encyclopedia, and found that it's an invasive
weed, and that it's a good dyeplant, yielding red when
mordanted with alum. So I intend to put it out by the
weed garden around the oak tree, and encourage it to
spread.
Dave brought home the lemon squeezer yesterday, then
ran out and bought six lemons. It was in a box that I
could have strapped to my bike easily -- but stuff was
rattling around loose inside, so it's just as well.
Besides, I wanted him to choose the slicing
knife. For the same reason that he wanted me to buy it.
I hope the lemons we buy for the stand are smaller
than the ones Dave got at Super Valu. These wouldn't fit
into the lemonade cups. Dave is half-opposed to giving
them the rinds, as we'd be apt to find them all over the
fairgrounds -- but we're giving them plastic cups, which
will make a bigger mess.
We'll just have to see that there are plenty of
barrels in convenient spots.
Are trash barrels on our list of things to check?
Squeezer, knife, cutting board, lemons, syrup, cups,
water, ice, . . .
Do we put the ice in first? Is there a shaker top to
fit our plastic cups?
I just came around to Dave's way of thinking. If we
don't put the rinds in the lemonade, we don't get that
bit of zest -- but we also don't have anything in the cup
that we have touched. Makes it a bit easier with respect
to handling money.
13 June 1998
The parsley is coming up. The chives, thyme,
orgegano, and radishes aren't.
If I counted right.
Yesterday evening I finally put a few stitches into my
daygown -- after winding 472 yards of Cordonnette #100
onto a spool that once held 800 yards of Subsilk basting
& embroidery thread. Wasn't quite sure it would all go;
in addition to winding looser, I think it's a thicker
thread.
14 June 1998
Enough rain already!
Reminds me: I've got to go put the whites on to soak
so I can wash them tomorrow.
I may have to iron them dry.
15 June 1998
Today's top headline is "Forecaster says go ahead,
build that ark" but the sun is shining at the moment.
Hope it continues until the clothes come out of the
washer -- and, more important, until they come off the
line.
Another spell of sunshine popped out while we were
having a Cajun pizza at Smitty's Saturday evening. I was
inspired to go somewhere instead of driving straight
home, and it was past time for the Altamont ice-cream
festival, so I went to Crossgates.
I took the full trip even though I was limping after
the first half, but it served only to remind me why I
don't go there often. The new roads make it harder to
get in and out, doubling the floor space makes it much
more tiring to get around, and most of the stores offer
neither anything to buy nor anything to snicker at. I
did spend some time in the model train store & looked at
the tools for a while. There were only a few to see, but
now I know where to buy a pin vise, if I should take up
bobbin lace.
I bought a bra at Penney's, since they had one that
fit and my other three are getting worn and stained, but
I'd come in for underpants and they didn't have any!
Perhaps I should try Sears; Dave yawned and broke a
globe on the chandelier -- miracle he didn't cut himself
-- and we found that one at Sears about thirty years ago.
I'll be surprised if they still have globes, but that's a
good place to start looking.
What are the odds of breaking one globe of five, and
getting the one that doesn't match? Didn't match the
most, that is. The edge of the frosting on three globes
is scalloped, and the design is cut through the frosting.
The edge of the frosting on the fourth is dagged, and the
design was stenciled during the frosting. The frosting
on the one that broke ended in a none-too-neat straight
line, but I think the design was cut. (The trash went
this morning, so I can't check.)