1999 Beeson Banner ---L--P+----1----@10--2----+----3-----R 1 January 1999 The time reserved for the New Year's Day Ride has, alas, become my nap time. But it's 12:35 ÄÄ anybody who doesn't show in the next ten minutes has gotten lost on the way. It's beginning to look as though we'll drink that gallon of whole milk by ourselves. Could freeze the syrup and mix it up at the next drill night at the firehouse. Wrote a check today, for AYH dues. It was odd to know that the first box of checks I picked up was sure to be the right one! Sigh. Dave has switched from meaning to buy a mop to planning to borrow one. I've half a notion to hop onto my bike and disappear, so he has to do all the hard part. But removing the bike from the back entry accomplishes a chunk of the cleaning up so you can clean up. And I'll have to remove anything he might trash. Might as well stay home and help. --------------------------------- I got my nap, but New Year's day turned out exciting. While we were finishing supper, some folks who had been in their new house only three days held a housewarming ÄÄ not on purpose. When we left, the guys were breaking beautiful white bricks trying to get at a fire inside the walls. It started as a chimney fire; seems odd in a brand-new chimney, unless the builders left some trash in it by mistake. [Dave says the chimney wasn't brand new, only new to the inhabitants.] So there we were spooning up pork- cutlet stew when Onesquethaw called a signal 30 & asked for manpower from Berne. I'm glad they asked Berne, I said. Not long after, they asked for a tanker and manpower from New Salem, but it turned out that what they wanted most from us was our bus. I made Dave finish his stew before he left. A while after that I heard that New Salem's auxiliary was taking coffee, and called the kitchen, but nobody answered. A while after that Kay called me, saying rush, rush, yes to the kitchen, and take whatever you have to make sand wiches. I said all I had was bread & she said bring that, and get down here in a hurry. So I grabbed a head of lettuce, half an onion, and the two loaves of bread I'd laid out to make cinnamon toast for the party that didn't happen, and rushed out in such a hurry that I almost forgot to run upstairs and put on pants. I'd napped with my cycling suit on, minus the jerseys and alpaca tights draped over the top tube waiting to be put on after the guests arrived, and was still running around in, essentially, black long underwear. It's a good thing I popped my fuzzy wool pants and a turtleneck on over what I had on, because I was outside more than I'd expected. Well, I got to the firehouse and was surprised that I had to unlock it and turn on the lights. Not a soul in the kitchen. I wandered about looking for Kay's phone number, spoke briefly with a fireman who was passing through and knew less than I did, used the phone book in vain, then began looking for Station One's number so I could ask Dave whether there was an auxiliary list beside the radio. It wasn't written up anywhere because everybody knows it. So I went back to the kitchen, hoping it was posted beside the extension. Just as I established that it wasn't, and before I remembered that it's on the card of numbers I carry in my wallet, the phone rang. It was Dave asking about coffee. I told him the last time I tried to use the coffee machine, it took three days to clean the kitchen, so he came over to brew coffee while I opened the Auxiliary closet, sorted the fire box, and washed the coffee thing ÄÄ what is the right name for those big insulated jugs with a faucet on the bottom? Luckily, the two insulated carafes had been put away clean, because the water in the sink wasn't running as scald ing hot as it should oughta. I rinsed them anyway, and left them full of hot water to pre-heat them. Then we decided to take a few cans of soda too; even though it was bitterly cold, not everyone can drink coffee. (As it turned out, the bus was quite comfortable, so drinking something cold wasn't a hardship.) Since I was going to be outside for only a few minutes, I left my coat, scarf, gloves, and purse in the meeting room while I went down to get the key from the lounge, unlock the walk-in cooler, and grab a flat of soda. Nothing but loose cans, but there was a plastic box ÄÄ I think they call that style "milk crate", and it *is* about the size of the crates Meadowbrook delivers milk to Indian Ladder in ÄÄ so I threw in four cans each of root beer, orange, and something odd, and eight cans of Coke Classic, and took them out to the Jeep. I let the basement door close behind me because I'd very carefully inserted the peg that keeps the front door from locking itself. Somebody had removed the peg. Dave swears that it wasn't him, but there was nobody else around. Perhaps it jarred out when he closed the door as he came in. I pounded on the door for a while, then I whistled under the kitchen window, then I switched to a "hey, this is an emergency" whistle; finally I went back to the car and put on a scarf and shawl I carry in case of a change in the weather, and hiked across the road to Station One, meaning to telephone him to open the door. A bored fireman met me at the door to Station One, escorted me back, used his key to let me in ÄÄ and got to his combination to the lounge before I found mine, even though my card of numbers was the only thing in my pocket. Well, I also had my car keys in my pocket; it's my habit to put them in my pocket when I take them out of the ignition. Alas, I have such a wad of keys that I have divided them into three bunches, and I'd dropped the bunch that includes the fire- company key back into my purse after unlocking the door. (Later on, when I needed to blow my nose, I found that my other pants pocket contained a pencil stub and two paper napkins.) Anyhow, I put the cooler key back on the antique ladder & we went upstairs to find that Dave had just finished brewing up all the non-decaffienated coffee, he'd put the two insulated carafes into the fire box, and the jug was half full. [More like a third, he told me when I was verifying data to write my official report.] So the fireman helped us to carry the stuff down, I locked the Auxiliary closet, the fireman returned to Station One, and Dave drove my car to the fire on North Road. We hung out for a while, then went to Nancy's house and fed her cats, stopped by Station one so Dave could sign in and retrieve his car, and went home. Where Fred and especially Frieda said "Hey! What about US?" so I fed them too. Now Dave's in bed and I oughta be. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Boy, am I glad I don't have to leave the house today! We were supposed to get three inches of snow; we appear to be planning on three inches of rain. And we had a good layer of snow, sleet, and freezing rain first. Eh, man, it's January! Dave got called out to stand by some downed wires this afternoon. They do say that New Year's Day sets the tone for the year . . . The lights were dim for hours. Our carbon-monoxide detector alerted us, and after I pried myself down off the ceiling ÄÄ the guy who designed the alarm takes the word "alarm" seriously ÄÄ I unplugged or turned off everything with a motor in it. Got the computer's power strip turned off during the moment the lights were out entirely, but the monitor is weird anyway. I think that comes of having been off long enough to get cold; it's gradually coming back. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ To continue the tone set by New Year's, I went to the firehouse today to put away the coffee jug, which I had left to air dry after washing it on the second. Also went across the road to see whether I could locate the "milk crate", but I couldn't find the light switch, and the engine room has windows only in the doors. The driveway to Station One was a sheet of ice, and I got up the slope only by taking several runs at it, so I wasn't happy to get so little result when I'd finally gotten in. Wondered whether I should call some one, and if so, who. Dave said that the driveway had been sanded by the time he went there, but the parking lot was still a skating rink. Dave snickered when I showed him how I'd crossed Indian Ladder's parking lot at a crouch, so the milk bottles wouldn't break if I slipped. Walking was easier at the post office ÄÄ got a roll of H stamps ÄÄ and SuperValu. Forgot to take my book back to the library, so I'll have to go out again tomorrow; it's due the fifth. And then I fixed lunch, napped, and made a ground-pork loaf for supper. More of a pork patty ÄÄ I baked it in a small iron skillet, over a huge potato cut into four pieces. Pretty good; I put in a packet of Goya ham-boullion powder, which I had recently discovered and was trying out for the first time. Considerably more convenient than Sysco's ham-base paste. 5 January 1999 When Dave discovered potato under the meatloaf, he called it an upside-down shepherd's pie. I think I've mastered the art of watering aloes. If you give them too little water, they shrivel at the tips and get ugly. If you give them too much, they bury you in baby aloes and get leggy and ugly. One cup of rain water on the first of every month seems to be just right. I've got just two fresh green sprouts in the pot beside my aloe plant, and they are growing sedately. It's bright and sunny out, but the ice is firm. I chipped a square foot or so, then decided to wait another hour. Dave cleared a spot as wide as a car and nearly as long in front of the garage yesterday. By the accident of the scraps, one of my rice bags came out as long and wide as a hand, and it's nice to zap that and hold it when I've come in out of the cold. If any of you haven't made rice bags yet, get with it; they are ever so much nicer than heating pads. When I use an electric pad, I get used to it and keep cranking it up and pretty soon my breath is scorching my nose and my sore back still doesn't feel warm. The rice bag continues to feel warm even though its temperature is dropping. Any sort of seed will do for filler, though I imagine that using oily seeds wouldn't be too bright. We call them rice bags because white rice is cheap and readily available, and the parts that might turn rancid or attract bugs have been ground off. I made mine out of stale popcorn ÄÄ after making sure the corn was too stale to pop in the microwave. Some folks feel that they have to add water, because repeated heating dries the seeds, but that strikes me as an invitation to mildew. And it's hardly necessary ÄÄ think how soggy crackers get if you let air get at them! I've been repeatedly heating my very small bag in weather so dry that our acrylic blankets put on a pyrotechnic display if I peel one off in the middle of the night, and the heat still feels damp. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ6 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Dave is glorying in not going to the board meeting tonight. Got a call from the new treasurer, though. So now he's gone "to deliver a book." 7 January 1999 Dave sent me a message by e-mail a few days ago: "Microsoft announced today that the official release date for the new operating system "Windows 2000" will be delayed until the second quarter of 1901." ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ8 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The prediction is for snow followed by sleet, freezing rain, and rain. Somebody has us confused with Indiana. The weather is pleasant enough at the moment ÄÄ about ten degrees, cloudy- bright, not too much wind, and when I went out to mail a letter, I noticed that the shoulders are clear enough to provide a way to get off the road in an emergency. But I don't feel like going out for exercise. And it takes so long to suit up, now that my circulation has slowed, that the weather would have time to change its mind. 'Course, if I went out once in a while, my circulation would be faster. I think that I'll buy a floor loom after we move. Weaving is neither as energetic nor as inevitable as running up and down stairs, but it works out legs and arms equally. Evening: we're getting the snow part. I'm glad I bought milk and a bunch of canned goods yesterday. Dave remembered that I'm forgetful! When I got up from my nap, I found a Post-It on the monitor screen: DON'T SET CLOCK. He's trying to find out exactly how wrong it is, so he can write a program to correct it. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ9 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Bummer, man. They didn't even save the dog and cat. When flames are shooting out when the first truck arrives, I guess we should be grateful that nobody got killed. I got the impression, eavesdropping on exhausted firemen, that the fire was caused by unbelievable stupidity, but I don't know any of the details. Robin was delighted when she found out I had my car ÄÄ she'd driven the bus ÄÄ and promptly put all the goodies on the counter in the bus and left the firemen to serve themselves. I dropped her and Melissa off at the firehouse, and came home to a ringing phone. Dave's back had suddenly started aching, so I went back to the scene & dropped him off at Station One, where he'd left his car. And now it's 2:50 in the morning. 9 January 1999, Second Take Dave went to bed promptly when he got home, but I played a few games of Free Cell first and woke up with a badly-swollen hand. I have decided that I'll write a report on every computer game I play. It'll bore the fur off you guys, but might help me break the habit. Again. I'm sure lucky that I never took up smoking! Dave says the tenant was using a sala mander to thaw pipes, and left it unattend ed. I didn't ask whether "salamander" is a hardware term or he was using a kitchen tool. Pretty close to noon, I heard New Salem's apparatus reported back in service. Dave says he's sure there will be a rekindle. Since there is nothing left of the house and everything is too wet to catch from it, I don't think that it will cause a problem ÄÄ except that such things are usually noticed after dark, perhaps after we're all in bed. Ik. The rain has changed back into snow. If it had been snow all along, this would not be a problem. I wonder whether Robin's trip was cancelled. Be a pity if the weather was good when she had to leave & she had to bring the kids back in this. I complained that we've been getting Indiana's weather. Dave said that Indiana has been getting ours. It's a pain sweeping water out of the garage; the floor is designed to direct it to a long-clogged drain well back from the middle of the floor. I don't see why they didn't shape the floor to drain out the door in the first place. Sunset: Dave called from the Johnston bridge to say that they wouldn't let him back into New Scotland. I'd been asleep until a few minutes before he called, so I haven't the slightest idea what that's about. [Never did find out.] I found a new use for the discarded turnout boots I snitched to carry in the car in case of breakdown wearing slippers: shoveling snow in them so I won't get my other pair of shoes wet. I gave my newer Red Wings a fresh coat of wax in case I was called out again. Then I reflected that the state of my formerly-dainty pink-lace knee socks indicated that my old shoes had lost a lot of dye, and sat down to give them another coat; even sodden, I could see a gray cast when I held them up to my nose to put the dye on. While I was doing that, the phone rang ÄÄ I thought it wonderful planning to take care of the shoes I had on first, but it turned out that Dave wanted to tell me that someone had found my Jeep keys and left them beside the copy machine, so I don't have to cancel my Mobilpass after all. As we were leaving the scene, I reached into my pocket and didn't find my car keys; luckily, Dave was right there, and he carries a copy of my ignition key in his pocket in addition to the full set he carries in the door-pocket of the Buick. At the time, I was hoping I'd absent- mindedly put them into my knitting bag; wasn't bright enough to dump out my purse until after breakfast. I'd delayed reporting the pass because the only way I could think of for them to get out of my pocket was to fall out while I was trying to take a nap in the bus. Found out why none of the firemen stayed down very long; the benches are much too narrow. Add in turnout gear . . . When I dropped Dave at Station One he had trouble getting through his bunker pants to find his car keys; I told him, "I have my copy of your keys." Since I seldom drive the Buick, those are on the everything-else ring with the key to our house and the key to the firehouse. The third bunch is the key to my bike, a pen knife I use to clean my cleats, and a pair of folding scissors I keep on a sub-ring with the knife. That doesn't sound like such a wad of keys, but one of the keys to the Buick has a battery in it. Dave suggested my "little plunger" for keeping my keys in my pocket. I wonder whether one could buy several copies of just one end and sew them inside all my pants pockets. I suspect that a large safety pin in each pocket would be more practical. I do plan to buy a third copy of the valet-parking key ring, to hang a pair of scissors in my black-denim tote bag. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ11 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ SNRX! I drank a whole bottle of Mountain Dew with breakfast, and I still feel like going back to bed. There must be some way I can become diurnal. I actually used a large safety pin yesterday ÄÄ the penny dropped and I slid the coil onto the key ring. It's a bit awkward to pin inside my pocket, so I left them dangling from the front of my vest while I washed up the coffee stuff ÄÄ including a thorough scrub of the Rubber maid box where we keep the cups etc.; our groggy boys had thrown trash in it, and there was an inch of coffee in the bottom. Figured out how the keys got out of my pocket, finally. When nobody else was in the bus, I tried to rest on those too- narrow benches by curling up vertically instead of horizontally; when I'm on my back with my legs straight up, a small, dense, and slippery object can slide out. The polywool the pockets of my fuzzy-wool pants are made of is slicker than the self- fabric in my denims, too. I wish that I could get silk twill in black ÄÄ I've found a reasonable-price source of dyed silk noil, but nobody but Dharma sells twill at all. There's a thread on rec.crafts.textiles.sewing about a silk source named Sinoart, but I couldn't find them on Alta Vista; the original poster must have mis-spelled it. If there isn't an answer to my query soon, I'm going to nag. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Played at least three games of Free Cell this morning. Brisked up about as soon today as I did after drinking the Mountain Dew; Caffeine doesn't seem to have much effect on me. Unless I drink it at bedtime. Poor little Frieda! There she was, minding her own business, sound asleep on the lamb pelt in the seat of the Purdue rocker, when a heavy, firmly-packed purse came barrelling down out of the sky. I expect her to forgive me about six o'clock, which is kitten-feeding time. I chickened out of going to Guilderland for cat food, but the weather this after noon was quite pleasant. I went to Beyond the Toll Gate for safety pins on my way to Indian Ladder for the milk I forgot Monday; felt rather odd to drive right by Supervalu without stopping. (I put tonight's roast in to marinate yesterday.) The safety pins were the reason I forgot milk on Monday. I went to Beyond the Tollgate for pins, remembered ÄÄ after seeing no car in the parking lot ÄÄ that it isn't open on Monday, stopped at SuperValu on the way to Indian Ladder. Then I came straight home, because I always go to SuperValu last. By the time I realized it, it was too late to go and come back before lunch, and the orchard had closed by the time I woke up from my nap. But today I woke up at 2:00, so I had time for the pins and a lap around the second-hand store. They seem to think they are an antique store. I'm sure I can buy new turtlenecks cheaper than $10! They did have some interesting stuff on the side they expanded into after my previous trip; I seriously considered some antique cookbooks, particularly the one that came with a Kelvinator: "Cooking with Cold". All were in mint condition. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ13 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I woke up before I got up today, and the weather prediction was for improving today and getting worse all day tomorrow, so I made the long-delayed dash to Price Chopper for bags of Friskies Senior; only two of the little boxes SuperValu sells are in the freezer, and those don't fill the dish much more than once. Decided that as long as I was going so far, I'd take in Book House and Alfred's. Stopped at Mobil on the way out, since I had less than half a tank and visions of getting called out to another fire. While pulling into the pump, I realized that I need the back-seat windows after all. So I broke the ice scraper on my snow brush ÄÄ good place to do it, if you gotta. I had to go in anyway, because the dingus that is supposed to print out my receipt was frozen or clogged or something. They didn't have any push-broom shaped snow brushes; she said they'd had some when she came to work today, but they are selling very well. So I bought a dedicated ice scraper, which is easier to use anyway, though the scratching side isn't as sharp. With the fuss over the gas receipt, I forgot to get a receipt for the scraper. Off to Stuyvesant Plaza. I got out of the Book House empty-handed, again. Is it time to bury me? I did see a book I want to read, but I'm still not sufficiently accustomed to the $7.95 paperback. And I'm not getting any work done without  having a new novel in the house. Less lucky in Alfred's ÄÄ they had those remnants of dry-clean-only 100% wool again, and I'd just been thinking that if I'm going to wear my fuzzy-wools every single time I leave the house, I should have two pairs. So I spent $17.95 for 4ú5/8 yards of black and $11.64 for three yards of scarlet, plus 8% tax. Bear in mind that I wouldn't be caught dead in scarlet pants, and I already have a nice big piece of red I've been thinking of shrinking up to make a blanket. There were some pieces that were already blanket-thick, but they had lost their fiber tags. There were also pieces of a wool, silk, and nylon fabric that I'd have considered if I had a suit pattern. A skirt suit; the weave is a bit wild for pants. On the way from Stuyvesant Plaza to Price Chopper, I noticed Paradise and reflected that we were out of hazelnuts, so I stopped & inspected the place thoroughly. Got a bag of candy ÄÄ I have no resistance to sesame-almond crunch ÄÄ a box of cereal, "wild mix" rice, nuts, and a bag of brewer's yeast to make muffin mix with. Then I came home, put the food away, logged in for a few minutes, skimmed my e- mail, manfully resisted the urge to play just one game of Free Cell, and went to bed. Meant to change into house clothes, but couldn't find a shirt right off, so I napped in night wear. About a quarter hour later the library called to say my book is in ÄÄ I'll pick it up at the poet's meeting tomorrow, if I don't think it too nasty to go ÄÄ and before I got settled down again, I realized that I could hear Doug plowing. This had been going on some time, so I figured I couldn't get dressed before he finished, tried to settle down, realized I couldn't while I could still hear him, so I got up, dressed, and drove over to the school to turn around. Must not have been plowing as long as I thought, because I sat in the drive a boring long time waiting for him. Grabbed a scarf on the way out, but could have used a shawl. Well, I keep two shawls in the car, but I threw them clear to the back when putting the back seat up to bring Robin and Melissa back to the firehouse, and haven't straightened up since then. Then I read a little e-mail, resisted temptation again, and went back to bed, not to wake up until just before Dave came home for supper. Luckily, I had some left- over stew beef, so throwing in potatoes and vegetables, a pint of water, and a Knorr cube made an excellent soup to serve with a bagel. While I was preparing that, Fred and Fried came out to say "It's kitten-feeding time" and then I remembered that I hadn't stopped at Price Chopper. GROWF! ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ14 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Dave took two passes at getting to work this morning; he said, when he came back the first time, that he hadn't even made it to Dr. Shaw Road. The weather report says that I was wise to stock up yesterday ÄÄ but the children can't eat hazelnuts! The storm is to last only two days, and the cat food in the freezer will last at least three. The sesame-almond crunch is gone already. A feature in the Times Union says that the average American eats two hazelnuts per year. Not two pounds, two nuts! I think I put away the ration for the whole state of New York by myself, or at least Albany County, and I'm far from the biggest hazelnut customer Paradise has. On the other hand, I do have to go to Paradise to get them; Supervalu doesn't carry hazelnuts. Except at Thanksgiving time, when the "new crop" nuts-in-shell include filberts. They ran out of pecans last ÄÄ I think they bought more, rather than sold less, as pecans were the best-tasting nuts this year. 17:15 ÄÄ chirp, twitter, twitter! Doug is here and I don't have to dash out and move my car, on account of Dave is out gallivanting in it. I told him that if he wanted a four-wheel drive, there was no way I was going to the meeting tonight. Especially since a car left motionless any length of time has to be unburied. But at least the snow doesn't stick. When I went out to the mailbox a few minutes ago, I kicked up clouds as I waded through it. Wore the turnout boots. Erica would have loved this snow. We won't let Fred out, and Frieda doesn't ask. Doug is driving faster than usual. He's stirring up clouds, and once I saw a pile of snow break like a wave. He vanished while I was typing that sentence. Very quick time. A woman on the sewing list has, I think, the oddest entry in the oddball sewing accessory thread: she set up a puppy pen around her sewing area, and in addition to keeping her little dog from "helping" her, it provides a place to hang pieces of fabric, and keeps husbands and grandchildren from fiddling with her tools. Got my silk noil samples from Oriental Silk. Now I wish I'd asked for Pongee samples too. I'm not sure they were mentioned in the ad. The swatches are in two stacks, each more than a quarter inch tall, and about the weight of broadcloth. Price sheet says "over forty" colors; I don't care to count to see how much over. No truly red red, but there's a lovely vermilion and a scarlet that's about as un-orange as red fabric is likely to get. The black sample seems a trifle thinner than the others ÄÄ they aren't all the same fabric ÄÄ so I don't think I'd want it for pants, but I'm tempted to buy a yard or two just to have pocketing and waistbands for heavy wool. Shipping and handling is $2.50, so a yard would cost $9.45. Or two would be $16.40. 21:35 ÄÄ I fell off the wagon twice today. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ When Dave came home this evening, I reflected that there was still plenty of time to buy bread and milk, he had my car warmed up and scraped off, the precipita tion had stopped, the stars were out, and the roads were all plowed. Hardly anybody at SuperValu; I guess everyone stocked up the day I didn't buy the cat food. I bought three boxes, and we should be set for another storm; one of the old boxes is still in the freezer. And I think the other, thawed in the thirty-pound frozen- fruit tin, hasn't been opened yet. On the way out, I reflected that the library doesn't close until nine, and swung by (as New Yorkers say) to pick up my book. The building was dark, the parking lot empty. "????," I said, "I know they don't close this early, and it isn't a holiday." The sign on the door said they had closed for bad weather. And when I went to put my groceries in the car, the tailgate was frozen shut ÄÄ again. Stashed it all in the back seat; a boy who had followed me out to retrieve the cart ÄÄ I'd wondered why there was only one loose in the parking lot when I arrived ÄÄ was helping me, so all of it went where the first parcel went. I usually put stuff on the passenger seat and strap it in with the seat belt, but didn't think it would all go. A "salamander" is a kind of space heater. And now I'm going to bed without playing either Free Cell or Tetris. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ When Dave started to come down with a cold, I figured that I'd be sick no later than Wednesday. It's almost Tuesday already, but I think I'm going to make it. No definite symptoms yet. Rained today. Heard an ambulance dispatcher warning about "block ice" on the back roads. Stayed in entirely today, but I went out on Sunday to buy NyQuil, paper handkerchiefs, and chicken soup. I've gotten out my blouse pattern to design the next incarnation ÄÄ and the sleeve is missing. There's a sleeve in there, but it's the wrong one. I must have put it into some other envelope ÄÄ and I have an awful lot of envelopes. Found the blender while searching the sewing room. And after an hour or so, I remembered where I'd stashed the gasket! So now it's all there and on the counter, but I've got to subtract some dust before I try it out. I dig that the monitor is taking on a bluish cast because some of the phosphors die before the others ÄÄ but why is the black background of my monochrome display navy blue now? Will it go entirely white when it's dead altogether? The main reason to get out the blouse pattern was to decide how much silk noil to order. Might get an extra yard; I've realized that raw silk would be a good substitute for the thin wool I haven't been able to find ÄÄ my old challis scarf is getting to be an embarrassment, and isn't much bigger than a bandana. I made two bandannas today, by way of cleaning up the sewing room. There's a couple of matching triangle scarves draped over the ironing board waiting for me to decide where to cut. Perhaps I should make one square scarf. 19 January 1999 No wonder Frieda was carrying on in the middle of the night. I just found a dead star-nosed mole in the middle of the office floor. Not by stepping on it, thank goodness ÄÄ I'm barefoot. Woke up in the middle of the night for the second time, noticed that it was after 6:00, and decided to stay up. Didn't turned the light on until I noticed an odd shadow on the floor. I've gotten through another Sunday without catching up on the tatting lists, so I queued an unsubscribe to Tat_Chat. Don't want to log on because the modem is noisy, and Eudora plays a fanfare when it downloads mail. Later: started gathering trash right after breakfast, because I deemed the weather too nasty out to walk out to the road last week. As I approached the door bag in hand, I realized that "right after breakfast" was 10:00. Dave says he plans to go back to work tomorrow. Says he plans to sneeze on the people who brought the cold to the office. I haven't come down yet, but I feel sleepy and it's only 7:00. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Bad Baby! Instead of going to bed when I got tired, I played Tetris until my right hand swelled up. Earned two new entries on the High Scores Table. Went to Guilderland to take advantage of No Sales Tax on Clothing Week, but didn't see anything to buy. All I need is everyday stuff ÄÄ underwear and plain black all-cotton mock turtlenecks ÄÄ and I went to Stuyvesant Plaza, which is yupscale. Meant only to have lunch on my way to Crossgates, but it was naptime when I left, so I went to Price Chopper for the cat food and came home. I'm not sure I will go to Crossgates, or Colonie either; it's an exhausting hike, and I don't know of any stores in either place that are likely to have mock turtles. Pity I'm not strong enough to ride to Lodge's. (Well, down to the river is easy, it's coming back that takes training.) I don't think they have mock turtles either, but I could stock up on dish towels and washrags. There is no parking in Albany, so I can't go by car. Stopped at the library on the way out to return The Transitive Vampire, which was disappointing. It's a good enough book, but I'd been led to expect a terrific book. Also, I'd been led to expect a compendium of grammar, and it was only a dictionary of the terms you are likely to hear when people correct your grammar. I was interested to learn that the "predicate noun" is now a "subjective complement". The change makes sense, but takes getting used to. I picked up four of Patricia Wrede's fantasies, all four of them shelved in JF, & I should have read one of those instead of playing Tetris. I'm beginning to think that the mysterious muscle pains I had a few days ago was my share of the cold. Dave went to work today, came home to find his cook missing, and went to Smitty's for lunch. I fed him TV dinner for supper, since I hadn't had my nap & didn't feel creative. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I read one of the books too. I'm not as groggy as I might be, but nothing intellectually challenging is on deck ÄÄ today's the day to wash clothes and change the bed. I thought I had a book of short stories and a trilogy, but it turned out that I had a book of short stories and books two through four of a trilogy. (Fantasy trilogies work out that way sometimes.) Two of the stories in the collection take place in the same universe as the trilogy, which leaves me eager to find Book One and begin reading it. If you are in the mood for short fiction, I heartily recommend The Book of  Enchantments by Patricia C. Wrede. It is, indeed, a book of enchantments. Aside from two of them being set in the same universe ÄÄ which I hardly noticed before reading the end notes ÄÄ the only thing the stories have in common is that they are all good. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Talked Dave into reading the one about the Frying Pan of Doom, but he wasn't impressed. I filled the coffee urn in forty-five minutes, when the previous record was one hour. Didn't fill it clear up, on account of sloshing as I carried it unaided down the stairs. Not much bouncing in the car, though ÄÄ the fire was right around the corner at 85 and Clipp. Saved more of this house than the previous one, but that isn't saying much. Everything that isn't burned is smoked or waterlogged, and it looks as though they'll have to demolish what was left standing. I should have insisted that Robin send Melissa home instead of me, since Melissa has to go to work today, and I really ought to stay awake until nap time. Bus doesn't need anything except somebody to drive it home now, though, so I guess Melissa will leave soon. 8:31. It was 7:30 when I left the firehouse with the coffee refill; I checked the time so I could leave a note on the soup, which I had brought to the boil while I was making coffee, so that it would keep longer. Ought to go back and find a jar to put it in the fridge. But I think I'll read the paper. 9:13 -- just realized that the light was on, and turned it off. I had optimistically left a light burning when I left at 4:00 in the morning. Oh, Arr. I went to bed soon after writing that, woke up about noon, went to the firehouse, cleaned up until after 2:30, lunching on sandwiches, tomato soup, cocoa, and cookies as I went. Didn't come near getting everything done, but it's cleaned up enough that we could suit up for another fire if we had to. Now I've got dishpan hands. We have a lidded plastic box for sandwiches, a Rubbermaid deep tray for cups, napkins etc., we'd used one of the plastic boxes our fish-fry fish come in to carry the four vacuum pitchers of tomato soup, we'd dirtied a huge coffee urn, we'd filled the insulated water dispenser with cocoa, and the cooler we'd carried two flats of soda cans in needed scouring. Huge as our sinks are, the cooler wouldn't fit, so that was a pain. (and a mess on the floor) I left the jug of coffee and the Shufelt's jug, which we'd used for water, in Station One. And as I started the washing machine, which I'd filled with cold white laundry yesterday, I remembered that I'd forgotten to close and lock the Auxiliary closet. The library will still be open when the wash is hung, so I'll run out, close the closet, return my books, and, if I have time, try to find Volume one of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. Both the book and the unabridged audiocassette set were simply missing. Librarian upset. There are several other copies in the Federation; I'll go in Monday and file an ILL request. They were closing, so I returned the rest and went to Smitty's, where I found Dave trying to call me on the phone & we had a pepper & pepperoni pizza. Which was delectable. Could have something to do with neither of us having had either breakfast or lunch. Before going up to bed shortly after we returned from Smitty's, Dave said that he hoped he'd get ham patty and fried egg for breakfast. As opposed to cookies and a ham sandwich. I didn't find any doughnuts, & presume the boys ate them all. There was half a box of cookies, which I left beside the radio. 8:11, and time for bed. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ24 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Two sessions of Tetris today, one before and one after the party. Had a lovely time at George's open house, but now I'm too sleepy to do anything, but not sleepy enough to go to bed. Better feed the cats now, so I won't grog off and forget about it. George's mother made her family's sugar cookies, which are flattened like peanut butter cookies (but with a water glass and a damp dishtowel instead of a fork) instead of being rolled out and cut. Double take -- did he say it was Grandmother Hollowell's recipe? No wonder I thought it was familiar. Or perhaps I'm just remembering a name I think ought to follow "Grandmother". Dropped one of the NSVFD bar cloths while hanging wash this morning, so I'll have to wash it again. May take a while to get up another white load, since I'd changed the bed shortly before gathering every white item and a few yellow washrags to wash with the firehouse linen. I had put it on to soak as soon as the other load was out of the washer, since I'd been mopping up cocoa and tomato soup, and didn't want the stains to set. Not that it matters much ÄÄ the boys don't look for a towel that's already stained when they need to wipe the floor. I had an ample supply of dirty or suspect napkins and slightly-used paper towels to mop up what I dripped and splashed. Left 'em all on the floor until time to leave, and shuffled them into puddles with my feet. Went through Different Drummer's Kitchen the last time I was in Stuyvesant plaza, and saw my first salamander. Looked like a large, flat rosette iron. I don't see how it can get hot enough to brown a meringue just by being held near it. Perhaps it was really a branding iron? Just sprayed one of the left-over sandwiches with "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" and fried it; pretty good. Perhaps I'll pick up another package when I check the firehouse tomorrow. Y'all may be astonished to learn that I've finally come around to liking a margarine. It doesn't taste the teeniest bit like butter, though -- it tastes like movie- theater popcorn. I like the spray dispenser, and the absence of hydrogenated fat. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Returned the towels yesterday ÄÄ all but the one I dropped. Forgot to inspect the fridge. In the hope of preventing further fires, I have moved my key to the firehouse to a quick-access ring ÄÄ the one I carry on the bike, since I always have my bike key if I have my purse, but I don't always carry my car keys on the bike. While I was at it, I moved the house key to my car-key ring; if my purse should be snatched, I don't want them to have my house key ÄÄ not that we ever lock the house. Made the last trip for the latest fire this morning. Someone had already cleaned out the fridge, and the Auxiliary closet was in good order ÄÄ though Robin's cooler is still there. Perhaps, in the interest of preventing more fires, she has decided to leave it until picnic season. I took the milk crate from Station One and put it back into the walk-in cooler, first checking that the crate was still missing from the cooler. This is a real milk crate, with the name of a prominent local dairy on it, but I could have overlooked that in the general excitement. It involved lots of keys. You gain access to the cooler by using a key to open the fire house, then using your personal combination ÄÄ the lock keeps track of who's been inside ÄÄ to open the lounge, where the key to the cooler is hanging on an antique fire ladder, then down a flight of stairs and out into the semi-outside alleyway leading between the firehouse and the cooler to the back door ÄÄ I never think to look to see whether the window in the stairwell is visible from that side. Open the padlock, look around, then reverse all steps to return key and get back to car, drive to station one, unlock, obtain crate, drive back, repeat steps to return crate. And I'm not even sure it's the right crate. It's an easy walk from the firehouse to Station One, but it's twenty degrees out, and I'm wearing house pants. The remaining ice on the driveway crunches when you drive over it. Luckily, there's a clear path to walk around it. Remembered the trash today, and about time! The recycling bin is level full. George is through remodeling ÄÄ open house was Sunday ÄÄ but he still put out five thirty-gallon cans, a cardboard box, and his recycling bin. I don't see that much stuff coming in. Had "find slippers" on my list of things to do today, which didn't take long ÄÄ all I needed was daylight so I could see into the corner between my suitcase and the wall when I peered under the bed. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ27 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Made another pork loaf for yesterday's supper, with mashed potatoes on the side. I put in a can of mushrooms this time. It was a great success. I still want to make a tamale pie. NSVFD was toned out for a car fire at the high school during breakfast. Dave grabbed our fire extinguisher and ran, but the fire put itself out. He got back in time to finish his bagel, read the funnies and go to work on time. But this reminded us that we have a fire extinguisher ÄÄ and it ought to be recharged. To put a good face on it ÄÄ I stopped after only two Tetris games. Frieda helped my proposed reformation by being as annoying as felinely possible while I was playing. At least I'm not staying up until 1:00 a.m. tonight. Finished side 6 of a four-tape talking book just at ten last night, and I was tired of knitting, so it would have been a very good time to go to bed, but the side had ended at a cliffhanger, and it would take less than fifteen minutes to read what it takes an hour to act out. Which would have been all very well and good if I hadn't picked up Book Two, just to read the blurb . . . Book Three shouldn't keep me up so very late . . . ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ It wouldn't have if I hadn't glanced at Book Four. (Well, unlike the first two, Three ended in a cliffhanger.) My jaw dropped while I was getting dressed this morning. The radio news said that Balston Spa got tired of trains running over their children, considered making the trains blow their whistles ÄÄ and settled on teaching the children how to  be careful! The paper said that people are calling the teaching inadequate even though lesson plans haven't been drawn yet ÄÄ I grumpily predict that the lessons will be counter productive too ÄÄ but it's the first ray of hope I've seen in our increasingly neotenic society. There was even a quote from someone who realized that giving the children a false sense of security would encourage them to play on the bridge. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ29 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Ellen called yesterday to say that the Auxiliary meeting was cancelled ÄÄ right after I finished scraping the ice off my car. Oh, well, it made it easier to get ready to go to the eye doctor this morning. She said I don't have to come back for two years, which I appreciate ÄÄ despite having lunch and taking a tour of the Book House and Alfred's Fabrics, I was still seeing fuzzy on the drive home. I wanted to go back to take part in the Knit In at the Book House tomorrow ÄÄ until I realized that it was scheduled for nap time. According to the Enterprise, the knitters will be making seven by nine inch squares. I would like to see how that is done! Perhaps the release said seven- and nine-inch squares. Got out of both Alfred's and the Book House empty-handed, but I stopped at Paradise and felt around for a few pounds of nuts ÄÄ and a bag of sesame-almond crunch. Ate half of it already. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ31 January 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Went to the knit-in about 2:00, knitted in window for twenty minutes, sat on floor until 5:00, when party was over (I had one of the three armchairs for the last while). Stayed a bit overtime to bind off my seven by nine inch square. I tried it against the template soon after getting out of the window, found it three stitches too wide, frogged, knit about six inches, tried again ÄÄ it was three stitches too narrow. Finished it as was, even though acrylic can't be blocked. Just got back from the Super Bowl party ÄÄ with a steak sandwich on a plate. I'd gone just for the barbecue, but was too stuffed to eat it by the time it came out. I may have picked up a knitting student. I'm too stupid to write, but I can't read usenet and e-mail because Windows got corrupted yesterday. We thought the mouse was dead at first, but the keyboard freezes after shorter and shorter times, even when the computer is in "safe" mode. Then this morning I tried to put one of my back-up files into the laptop, it tried to start, beeped alarmingly while flashing its battery light, and went dead. Turned out it was plugged into a switched outlet. The lights were on often enough to keep it from erasing Drive D, but not often enough to keep the battery charged. I have a tape of Sara Plain and Tall, but after two parties in a row, I don't feel like sitting and knitting. Read Anne McCaffrey's Pegasus in  Flight yesterday. I thought it rather slight; engaging enough while I was reading it, but I was not inclined to think about it afterward. Her Dragonrider series is inspired, but includes more books than its foundation can support. Pity that she didn't know how well her one-off retelling of Cinderella would turn out. At the least, she might have refrained from calling horses and cows runner beasts and herd beasts. I'd like to see more of the world of Restoree, but I suspect that all there is is in the book. But the children of the big- nosed girl and the very ugly general must surely be a sight to behold! I'll have to return to the library soon. When I tried to return Dealing with  Dragons, I found that I'd left one of the tapes in the player, so they gave the set back. I can't make out the due date, but it was only fourteen days to start with. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ1 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Forgot to take the books with me this afternoon, so I didn't stop at the library. Felt a bit unrested in the morning, so I darned a sock to "Sara Plain and Tall". Not really a story ÄÄ the widowed father decides to send for a mail-order bride, the children think it's a wonderful idea, the potential bride looks them over and decides to stay. I'd call it a character sketch, but Sara was cheerful and industrious, and I gather that only "characters" who do nothing except whine may be sketched. I hate typing on an LCD screen. I keep losing the cursor. It seems quite conspicuous until you don't know where to look for it. I have become enamored of doing needlework to talking books, but the library's supply would be meager even if I had selected all of them myself, and well over half are read-along tapes for pre- schoolers. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ2 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Happy birthday, Sara Lee. The computer may be back today but more likely tomorrow, and drive D is more likely to survive the experience than C ÄÄ where my stuff is. I forgot to copy my appointments off the calendar while I could still read it, and when I went to mail the Banner, I found that I hadn't backed up my address book since Mary moved. Of course, the envelope with her name on it hadn't been pre-addressed like all the others, so I haven't a paper copy. I may regret blithely mailing the others without comparing the addresses on them to the back-up address book. At least Eudora the un-backuppable is on Drive D. Today Trash Day. I wondered whether it was too wet to take out the recyclables. When I carried out the bag of incinerator/ landfill trash, I learned that it isn't raining enough to make it unreasonable to put paper out ÄÄ but I also slipped on the wet ice, and jammed my wrist when I fell, so I'm inclined to let the stuff that can wait, wait. I don't seem to have any residuals from the fall. The hand is a bit swollen, but it always is, this early in the morning. The prediction for tomorrow is snow followed by rain. Yecch. When Dave came home at noon and caught me shovelling slush off the driveway, I told him the sloppy winter was to get us ready for our return to Indiana. Still don't know when that will be, but a few days ago, I asked him whether I could promise to teach knitting at the high school this fall, & he said it was quite safe to plan on it. I decided I'd rather not look into it. Wouldn't mind running a knitting class at a yarn store, if we had one. I think that what we miss most about the computer is the ship's bells rung every half hour. Dave says that when we get the machine back, he is going to get on the net and look for a chiming clock. The latest prediction is sunny and warm. I shoveled some more ice. Read Shaw's Major Barbara tonight. Nearly a third of the book is preface ÄÄ a curious blend of sensible and silly. This would be a good time to catch up on my reading list, if I hadn't thrown out the hardcopy intending to print out a fresh one before my next trip to the library. Probably plenty of books I haven't read yet on the obsolete backup copies, but I think I'll paw through what I can find in the house. I've been thinking of going to the firehouse kitchen to overdye my gray vest, but found a spoonful of instant coffee in a jar that's been in the fridge for ages, & decided that it might be as simple as using that as if it were soap. If it doesn't match, or isn't intense enough, I won't be any worse off than before. Since I can't heat the water after putting the vest in it ÄÄ I hear that some European washers have heaters in them, so that you can bring the heat up gently ÄÄ it would be pale even if I had a significant amount of coffee. When I went down to pull the vest out and put the coffee in, I discovered that I'm going to have to let it soak for a while first. Wool is most amazingly difficult to get wet. Maybe I should have used a drop of Eucalan. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Dave said that Tim said that aside from a dead mouse and a dying monitor, he couldn't find anything wrong with the computer, so he dusted the innards and grounded everything he could think of. Dave went to pick it up two hours ago, and I'm beginning to worry that they'll run out of lasanga before I go to SuperValu. I could set the table, I suppose. This here machine keeps making disc- drive noises when I haven't asked it to do anything. Normal for Windows, but this is DOS . . . Lasanga consumed, computer set up. Colors that aren't faded and blue are going to take some getting used to. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I started Follet's The Key to Rebecca  the night before last. Bedtime came just as the spy finally got his hands on the briefcase he'd been plotting to obtain for so long. It had never occurred to him that a briefcase containing top-secret informa tion might be locked, and as soon as that bit of false suspense was over, he realized for the very first time that top secret information might be worth writing down, and started looking around for a pencil and some paper. Up until then, things had been going fairly well, though far from as good as "The Needle". I wonder whether someone told him that Der Nadel's perfection was unreal and he needed to salt a mistake or two into his next Nazi spy, or he had been watching "Mission Impossible"? My blue and green labels in Eudora are the same color ÄÄ possibly the result of trying to differentiate them on the previous monitor. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ5 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Two games of Free Cell, beginning precisely at midnight. Well, I had to try out the new mouse, didn't I? The Auxiliary meeting went fairly well. I spent a couple of hours at the library on the way. I think that there are more tapes I like in the juvenile talking books than in the adult section ÄÄ and today I checked out the last juvenile tape that I mean to take. Did see a set of Fibber McGee shows in the adult tapes; may spot something else later on. Got my brown-and-green duck smock assembled today. Still haven't found the sleeve pattern, but as soon as I sew on the snaps, I can use it to design a vest pattern. I mean to make the vest a pullover, like my knitted vests, and use the neckline from the daygown. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ7 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Free Cell, from bedtime until 1:23 this morning. I'm getting to be sorry that I promised to tell all. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ9 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The high point of the week: trash day. (Boy, am I glad that the weekend went by without any more thrilling events!) Dave looked out the entry window and said "George is slacking off." Only two cans, and when I took our trash out ÄÄ four trips! ÄÄ I saw that neither was full. Back entry looks much better now. I had an enormous pile of cardboard, now all flat and standing up between George's yellow bin and mine. And the yellow bin is so piled up with foam packing material ÄÄ most of it off the new monitor ÄÄ that I was just barely able to balance the newspaper and junk mail on the pile. I could make up another bag of junk mail, and at least two more bags of newspaper, but that can wait. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Grump. I wasted yesterday morning playing Free Cell, then sat up until midnight after the poets' meeting. And I left that early because they started talking about the president. Stayed in the periodicals section until the library closed. I listened to tape one of "The Moorchild" Wednesday night. Meant to knit a round on the Afghan of the Century, but my selection of yarns there's enough of for a whole stripe was down to the lime- green I don't like. Turned out that some little moth had taken the matter out of my hands, so I spent the time sorting yarn instead. There is an enormous amount of the lime green, so I might knit a stripe of it after all. Perhaps together with the thin kelly green yarn, to tone it down. And now I'll have to go all through the grocery bag of black I've been saving for the border, and do something to protect my cones of Greylock. I've decided to knit the mixed-color stripes before the lime green stripe, and put the lime green between two black stripes. After a nap, I've decided to do a blue stripe next. I've got enough blue 2/8 to finish it, and don't want any more 2/8 socks. So I didn't play Free Cell again tonight ÄÄ I played Tetris. But I did stop at nine instead of midnight. I think I'll go untangle some yarn. I've decided to pasteurize the green wool, just in case. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ13 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Fell off the wagon in the morning, but at bedtime I listened to three sides of The  Moorchild and knitted two and a fraction rounds on The Afghan of the Century. I think I'll finish the third round before needing more blue wool, but I doubt that this ball will finish the stripe. The green wool is cooling on the stove. While it was heating, I made myself some potato soup and put in half a packet of Saz¢n Goya con Azafr n, grumbling a bit because "azafr n" turned out to be yellow #2 ÄÄ I expected annatto at the least; my Spanish dictionary says azafr n is saffron, so I wonder whether this is false advertis ing. Since I'm not wild about the stuff in food, I put a packet of it into the wool; any change in the color has to be an improvement. Then I remembered some yellow-rice seasoning that has been around for an unknown number of years, and put in two packets of that too. I'm not at all sure the wool is any yellower, but the water is green enough to suggest that it will come out paler. Eight bells ÄÄ midnight. Better go on upstairs. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ14 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Listened to two sides of The Moorchild  in the afternoon, and never finished the third round ÄÄ it's a pattern round, and I'm moving up the markers. Not to mention that Freda helped. I did finish the ball of plied yarn, and splice on one of the two little balls I frogged out of my vest when I shortened the shoulder straps. I don't think I'd quite knitted to the splice when the second side ended. I never would have seasoned the green yarn if I'd realized how many times I would have to rinse it to get out the paprika. The last rinse was still full of specks, and a trifle green, but I pretended not to notice. On the other hand, the yarn no longer looks as though it ought to glow in the dark. I have found a web site where one can buy yarn that does glow in the dark. Alas, the site tells you all about how wonderful the fiber is and how many wonderful things you can do with it, but never gets around to such trivial mundane details as whether it's sewing thread or anchor cable, how many yards are on a cone ÄÄ or whether it comes in cones, skeins, hanks, coils, balls, crates, or boxcars ÄÄ how much it costs, what the shipping charges are, or what is the minimum order. I'm not even sure that it's not loose fiber. Snivel. I want a yellow silk scarf, but my silk samples don't include any yellow. I've about decided to order enough to make a red scarf, a black shirt, and a black scarf. There's a gorgeous blue among the samples, but I think it would be trying to my complexion. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ May be a while before I can listen to the next installment of The Moorchild. I complained to Dave that the recorder wouldn't rewind or fast forward. Dave bought a new drive belt, and now the recorder will rewind and fast-forward. But I felt too stupid to sew on snaps, so I read King Javan's Year instead of listening to the talking book. All the pre-Morgan Deryni stories are tragedies, so this isn't the best bedtime reading. I "cooked dinner" with the Jeep tonight; SuperValu must have made particularly good gravy, because the plate was clean enough to put into the recycling bin when I picked it up. We had the last of the Christmas ice cream on the piece of cherry pie that came with the dinner. Freda washed the ice- cream carton as enthusiastically as the plate, but not quite so well. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ16 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I do hope that the trash men didn't get "Presidents Day" off, because George is back in form: five cans, one bin, and a cardboard box. Where does he get it all? I was caught up on misc. paper, until I cleaned out a bookshelf and threw a foot and a half of old magazines into the junk- mail box. (And I have yet to sort the mail- order catalogs.) I'm just grateful that Trash Day is the big news. We had a scare during break fast, but it was an auto smash over near Indian Ladder, and Dave didn't go. Didn't catch any of the details except that there were "dual fractures of the lower extremities" ÄÄ I got the impression that two people each broke both legs; doubt that there will be an account in the paper, since auto smashes aren't news unless somebody gets killed. There's one advantage to tossing and turning all night: I didn't wake up with swollen hands. Don't feel terribly sleepy, either ÄÄ I'm yawning, but not stupid. While dusting the glove chest, I reflected that we won't have a place for it on Chestnut Street ÄÄ but we can't do without it here. I have a feeling that we'll find lots of stuff like that when it's time for our garage sale. The latest report is that that will be in the year 2000. Finished The Moorchild tonight ÄÄ then looked at the label and saw that the tape is due on the sixteenth. Oops! Worked on the Afghan of the Century, since the snaps aren't as amenable to divided attention. Got into the fourth round of the stripe, but ran out of yarn a few minutes before I ran out of tape. I had tried to finish reading King  Javan's Year earlier in the evening, but I couldn't get into it. The smash was on the six o'clock news, unfortunately. One of our untrained six teen-year-olds hadn't been told that you don't charge ahead when the sun is in your eyes, and he crushed a trash collec tor against his truck. I don't know how bad he was hurt. I think I do know how bad the kid is hurt. He has a long, long time to live with this. I wonder whether it was our guy? Our recyclables were picked up early, then it took an unusually-long time for them to come back for the incinerator trash. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The report in this morning's paper didn't give anything new, save that the victim's condition is serious. Returned my talking book this evening, and discovered that I'd mistaken "18" for "16", so I'm not overdue after all. Checked out a Marian Zimmer Bradley tape. I'm tired of her style, and I don't like abridgements, so I figure two wrongs make a right. Also filled out an ILL request for two Andre Norton books; forget which ones. It's annoying that the dates given in the catalog are the printing dates of the re-issues -- which makes her appear to have written astoundingly fast in the seventies. Which is a decade I want to avoid, since that was her "aware" period. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Parked behind Oceans Eleven and rode my bike to Walmart today. Meant to go to Kim's Oriental, but chickened out. Just as well, since I was poohed when I got home ÄÄ more from being late for my nap than from exercise; by the time I got down, it was time to get up. Bought a couple of little cotton rugs that look like scaled-up terry cloth. When I put one in the bathroom, it looked so minute that I put the other one down too. And now I have lint all over my fuzzy black pants. There was no bargain-fabric table at all, this trip. Ate a taco salad at Wal*Mart. (I didn't notice the chili pie until after placing my order.) I didn't eat the sour cream that came with it ÄÄ but I did bring it home. The salad didn't disagree with me, presumably because I rode slowly and didn't go far. I paused for a walk along the way; I dismounted, walked across a gravel parking lot ÄÄ amply supplied with patches of mud, because it was thawing weather ÄÄ then remembered that Springsteen is one-way and walked back again. A troop of boys were ahead of me on the bike path connecting the Crossgates parking lot to Rapp Road. They went into a foot path on the other side of the road, lined up well enough that I think it accounts for the exit, unless the boys wore it after the path was paved, and it looks too wide and indistinct for that. Wish I were childish-looking enough to get away with following it to see where it goes. Bought a bag of honey-nut crunch at Paradise; this day has been a nutritional disaster. I did buy some cabbage and celery when I stopped at Price Chopper to get the cat food that was the point of the expedition, but I haven't yet eaten a single molecule of either. On the other hand, Dave didn't bring me any fried fish. He said that they had to send out for pizza to feed the help. Whereupon I asked whether there was any left-over cheesecake. Dave worked the first fish fry tonight. I'm surprised that they sold out when I haven't seen a single poster, and the ads in the Enterprise aren't there. There was a sign in front of the firehouse, though. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 5:45 am ÄÄ I was so tired on the way home yesterday that I forgot that I intended to stop at Village Mobil and top off my tank in case of fire. Maybe I'd have remembered if I'd remembered that Friday means more than fish fries of late. Don't know when the pager went off. By the time I decided it was a real fire and got into two pairs of pants, three shirts, and a vest, it was 5:15. I was the first one there; before I got the coffee- maker warmed up, Melissa ÄÄ still not officially a member! ÄÄ turned up and told me it was only a furnace backing up. And Dave just came home. 2:00 pm ÄÄ today, I got up from my nap when it was just about time to lie down. Neither of us could go back to sleep, so we put up the new range hood. Dave had decided that the cheapest way to repair the hood ÄÄ the old one had a sprung rivet and a dead fan motor ÄÄ was to buy a new one. The new one is prettier, but white paint is going to be harder to clean than stainless steel was, and it's three tile- widths narrower, so we're going to have to have Doug in. Luckily, we have three matching tiles. Which all makes us keenly aware that the woodwork, walls, cabinets, and ceiling need paint. Cleaning up afterward renewed my desire to find a hand vac. The "Consumer Reports" column reviewed hand vacs a while back ÄÄ carefully omitting mention of any bag types because, they said, hand vacs that hold significant amounts of dirt are messy to empty. But if they had to bad mouth them, they must still be around. I made a big batch of brown-rice-and- lentil pilaf a few days ago. Knowing that Dave doesn't like it, I emptied the jar of dried onion, and lost count of the number of garlic cloves I put in. Dave came home for lunch and said "That smells good!" Not so good as hamburger, he thought, so he got his regularly scheduled lunch. The next day I put in three slices of Spam and re-heated the pilaf for his lunch. Whereupon it turned out that he'd thought it was soup. I never told him how much garlic is in it. And I may make rice-and-lentil soup some day. I used up all my ham seasoning, and Price Chopper doesn't have Goya ÄÄ or I didn't know where to look for it there ÄÄ so we're still out. 9:00 pm ÄÄ Freda is glad when I play Tetris. She can curl up on my wrist without interfering with play and getting tossed aside. I think it's time for bed. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I noticed today that the new hood has the switches up on the body, not out on the edge where they get the full splop of the grease. Got the sleeves set into my garden smock today; seems to fit. I've settled on how much silk to order for a blouse ÄÄ was surprised that I had to allow nearly as much for the sleeves as for the front and back. That's partly because the sleeves are an inch or two wider than half the cloth, so I need their length twice. I added a yard to make a scarf, then ordered several sample sets for other fabrics. Now as soon as I choose a color, I can write the check. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I mailed it yesterday. I can't believe that I'm paying $40 for a blouse, and it isn't even assembled. I narrowed the choices to black and red, then asked Dave to choose and he narrowed them to light blue and red, so I ordered red. The "I can't believe it's not butter" spray has been almost empty for weeks. It keeps going and going like the Energizer bunny. I wish Energizer would put an ad on the TV-documentary episode of Babylon Five, right after the fake commercial for Psy Corps. It's in re-runs and they could still do it. Fell off the wagon & played both Free Cell and Tetris last night, until after midnight. Before that I listened to "City of Sorcery" while knitting a round on the Afghan of the Century. I do hope that the unabridged version was a little more pointful. For late-evening reading, there's something to be said for nothing to think about, though. "Bertie and May" was lying on the bed this morning, and I decided to share the joke about it being due on the 29th with Dave. He noticed that it's actually due on Feb. 23, stamped exactly on a line that closes the upper loop of the 3. Ran a bunch of errands this morning. Caught up with a trash truck on the way from Indian Ladder to the library. Passed very nervously. At supper, Dave told me that the poor fellow had lost both legs. I wasn't surprised; it wasn't long ago that he'd never have made it to the hospital. Dropped my books off; now three more are in. I remember sending for two . . . They couldn't have gotten one of the two I handed in this morning! Good news and bad news at Beyond the Tollgate: she has silk thread, but not red. Only staples such as forest green. I bought a tube of black to sew up my black vest, which I haven't gotten around to cutting out yet. I suspect that I should have gotten two ÄÄ I'm fairly sure that a sewing-machine bobbin holds a whole spool of silk; it's only a hundred meters. Picked up a flyer for sewing classes that are held at the Clarksville post office. I was impressed at paying $40 for a blouse ÄÄ one of the classes charges $60 for a shirt kit, and another $60 to supervise you while you are putting it together. If "advanced beginners" get pre-cut, pre-marked fabric in small medium, and large, I wonder what sort of project they have for beginning beginners? ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ25 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ One disadvantage of bringing the refreshments is that you have to stay until the last person is ready to go home! Spent the whole morning baking cookies, and didn't get much done in the afternoon. Started to snow in the evening and I had to clean the car off twice, but it was easier the second time. Everyone but me appeared to be enthusiastic about holding a fund-raising dance on the first of May. We set up for the fish fry after the meeting, and I've volunteered to peel onions for the corned beef and cabbage dinner. Which is on the tenth, even though the 17th is also on Wednesday. They made a pretty good dent in the plate of raw vegetables I brought, and the lemonade went over pretty well. Only used a few tablespoons of the sugar syrup, though ÄÄ given a choice, most of them liked it tart. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Tetris at ten. Didn't get much done except buy groceries today. Did buy a reduced-for- quick-sale package of star fruit and stew them, together with a forgotten pear and a shriveled apple, in the sugar syrup. Starfruit aren't very good stewed, but their companionship considerably improved the taste of the apple; I may buy some apples to stew in starfruit syrup. Ants have invaded the kitchen. Spring must be on the way. I hope I have all my sweets in airtight containers. Forgot a lemonade glass on the counter, and less than an hour later, it was swarming. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 February 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Invasion seems to have subsided this morning; I must have found all the loose sugar. They were really bad yesterday; I forgot to run hot water over the honey container after I made muffins. I picked up some unsweetened coconut at Paradise my last trip, and on impulse substituted it for the raisins ÄÄ which are in short supply after making the cookies. I should have substituted it for the sunflower seeds instead. After making a quart of onionskin dye to make my peach sewing silk match the brown wool I mean to patch into a blanket, I read in Threads that size A silk is nowhere to be had. The Gutterman silk I bought to sew up the black vest is a bit coarser, and appears to be spun silk to boot, so I'll want to save the peach thread to sew my red blouse. I've decided to use Subsilk basting cotton for the blanket, since it's the right color, and thread quality won't matter much when I'm mainly covering torn edges with it. With at least three rows of stitching to each seam, there won't be much strain on any one thread. Read on rec.arts.textiles.sewing that there's a terrific fabric store in Middlebury (Gohn Bros.), and a bunch more in Shipse wana. After I wandered about a bit trying to remember where I stashed the Indiana map ÄÄ I suspect that it's in the nest of suitcases, in our jam-packed attic ÄÄ Dave suggested the Rand McNally road atlas. The towns are close together, and it looks like an easy day trip from Warsaw. As I was simultaneously making muffins, washing clothes, and putting away a six- month supply of canned chili, each activity requiring several trips up and down the cellar steps, I asked Dave what I was going to do for exercise after we move to Chestnut Street. He suggested that we semi-finish the attic and put my fabric stash up there. I think the main thing the attic needs is a powerful exhaust fan to draw out dust and hot air. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ1 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Yesterday I discovered that my Subsilk cotton matches my brown wool perfectly, after I hurried to finish assembling the blanket before lunch, and had to take all the stitches out again in the evening. Today I assembled the vest hastily, and ended up ripping black-on-black. Got it re-assembled, & can press the seams and finish the neck, armholes, and hem tomorrow. I plan to turn the edges under once and topstitch, since it's thick, and too felted to ravel. Also pieced a five-yard by four-inch strip of poly-cotton print to bind the raw edges of the brown blanket. Took down my box of shiny-synthetic scraps to look for a binding for the red blanket I mean to make next, and found several surprises. First was the heft of it: it's level full and pressed down. Most notable was a small swatch of white rayon brocade from Wm. H. Block ÄÄ forty inches wide, and $2.00/yard, the tag says. I remembered having paisley scraps from the lining of a corduroy vest I once made Dave ÄÄ though I haven't unfolded it yet, the piece looks big enough to make a dress. I wonder what that was about? I also wonder whether the vest is still around somewhere. But alas, I don't think the paisley will go with either crimson or scarlet. It would go with brown, though, and I have another piece of brown wool. I find that having to report my indiscretions with the computer games hasn't been much of a deterrent, so I'm giving it up. I think I'll go play some Free Cell. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Mystery solved: George does haul stuff home just to throw it away! Leastways, the last time I glanced out the window, I saw him take a twenty-gallon can out of his van, empty it into one of his large cans, and put it back into the van. Finished my vest yesterday, and wore it when I ran out to buy supper. It fits, but isn't becoming. Asked Dave for an opinion as I was on my way out the door, and he said, "It's very black." We've opened three cans of chili already; perhaps it isn't a six-month supply. When we run out, I buy one can of every flavor. And pay tax on the Texas Pete chili, but none of the others. Someday I'm going to ask somebody ÄÄ when I figure out who. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ My silk and silk samples came ÄÄ just as I was getting settled down to my nap. Snork, snark, snickle! You know what "pearl crepe jacquard" is? It's seersucker! Brilliant and soft, though. The pongee is lovely, but I can't see me in silk plaid. "Honan silk" is marked "handwoven", but I can't see any reason it wasn't done on a power loom. Not very heavy, either, though it's thicker than the seersucker. Which looks like pliss‚ on one side. I wonder which side I'd use, if I bought it. My first thought was "This is not 'ideal for travel'", but it appears to be opaque despite being very thin; a shirt of it would probably pack very small. At sixteen dollars a yard, plus shipping, I'd have to have my plans carefully made. Pity it doesn't say how much it shrinks when you pre-shrink it. And somehow I don't seem to feel inspired by warm seersucker. In all sample sets, the black doesn't look as nice as the other colors. I think that that is characteristic of silk. Began attaching the poly-cotton binding to my wool blanket this morning. Harmon izes; I think that it's going to look more like something I hunted all over for than like something I wanted to get rid of. I seem to have yards of red tricot left over from my brief foray into making my own underpants. Anybody want it, or shall I haul it down to the Methodist Thrift Shop when they open up this spring? I don't seem to have missed my nap much. I finished the blanket after supper, and did such a good job on the second binding that I'm inspired to make another blanket ÄÄ though after thinking on it a while, I'm inclined not to bind the second. A 90" square is long enough, but a trifle narrow, so I'll lay the long grain of the next one crosswise on the bed. After I figured out a hem that would look reasonably like a selvage for the sides, I asked myself just why I wanted to bind the selvages on the ends. I can always change my mind later. I made the binding strip four inches wide because I couldn't make it any wider and still get five yards out of the scrap at hand, but the narrow binding ÄÄ only a bit more than half as wide as the binding on the yellow acrylic blanket ÄÄ looks elegant rather than skimpy; I don't think a patterned binding would look good at all if it were as wide as the taffeta bindings. But then this is a very small print; the paisley pattern would look like random splotches in a strip only an inch and a half wide. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Made a black blanket today, and put it on the bed. Dave may fry; I didn't take the acrylic blanket off. It shows cat hair something awful. Freda slept in this morning. Early yesterday evening, Dave noticed that she was showing a great deal of interest in the piano, repeatedly forcing her way behind it even though the space is so narrow that she has to perform a vertical loop to turn around. (Dave saw her doing it; I didn't catch her at it.) After Dave went to bed, there arose such a clatter that I stopped writing and went to investigate. There was a mouse clinging to one of the screens we store behind the piano, dividing his terror between Freda and me. I didn't think I could catch him, so I went back to work. She was still circling the piano when I went to bed at midnight, but we found a slightly-used mouse in the entry this morning. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ6 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I bought an undyed silk T-shirt but it is too loose to wear as underwear, and looked too much like underwear to wear as the other kind of T-shirt, so yesterday I simmered it in the liquor from a half gallon of canned rhubarb roots, and later added the onionskin extract I made for the peach thread that I decided not to dye. Cooled it in the dye overnight, rinsed it this morning, hung it up to dry, and now it looks like Loretta Swit's underwear in M.A.S.H. Dyed nice and even, though. We are having a splendid snowstorm. I was astonished at how thick it was on my car when I went out to move it out of Doug's way, but the merest touch of the broom made it fall off. It's predicted to continue all night and part of tomorrow. The Doug who plows driveways isn't the same Doug who does tile. Somebody threw up on my new black blanket yesterday. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ9 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ We still have a good snow cover, but most of what Doug left on the driveway melted in yesterday's sun. I broke some of it up with the spading fork, which works much better than the ice scraper on thick ice. The ice scraper works better on packed snow, though. Did I say that I'd found and sealed up all the sugar in the house after the ant invasion? I forgot the mints I carry in my purse, as I discovered when I unzipped the wrong compartment when reaching for my credit card to pay for groceries yesterday. Yecch! Hmmm. It won't be too long until the little brown ants wake up; I should start putting the cats' dish in a plate of water. I'd been putting off writing to Heirloom labels for a brochure; someone posted their URL a few days ago, so yesterday I went to their Web page and found enough infor mation to order a gross of Cash name tapes. They seemed to think they'd included an opportunity to order their woven labels, but I couldn't find pictures or even a name list for the clip art, and some of the styles photographed black-on black. Four-line labels are a dollar each for twenty-five, and fifty cents if you take a hundred, and this is not a good time to buy name-and-address labels, so that didn't bother me. They did make a wise choice in making the photographs black and white ÄÄ faster downloading, and clearer detail. But they made a poor choice of examples in some of the styles. I think the old man designed the Web page himself. Beats the professionally-designed pages that are beautiful and sharp and you can read them for hours without finding out what the company sells. 11 March 1999 I must have slept heavily today: I got up from my nap to find the answering machine flashing that it had captured its first message. I couldn't quite make out what the guy was saying, but he appeared to be selling auto insurance. I didn't call back. They came to scrape snow off the roof and look at the leak this morning. As near as they could make out, it was an ice dam ÄÄ but he glanced at the rest of the roof and said "That looks like 20-year shingles laid about twenty years ago." And he's right. Mom said that when I was a baby, they could put me to sleep by driving around with me. Someone on the Knitlist has an easier way to quiet the kid: way: she puts her baby in his car seat and puts the car seat on the dryer while it's running. Seems to me he'll catch on soon, but she saves the trick for emergencies. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ That didn't take long! I went upstairs to plan the new slip I wanted to make for the installation banquet tomorrow, and decided that my old slip would do just fine. It's knee length and the skirt is ankle length, but I think a shorter underskirt will be more comfortable. And I won't have to worry about it hanging out. Can't find the blouse I want to wear though. It's black, and the closet isn't well lit, and I wore it recently, so I'm not alarmed. Yet. Whine. Someone on the sheriff's frequency mentioned Investigator Duda. I don't begrudge the man a promotion ÄÄ but he used to be Deputy DooDah. There's a Day family in the area, but as far as I know, none of them work for the sheriff. ". . . knitting camp was fantastic but not likely to happen again . . . until my mom forgets what life with four grandkids is like." ÄÄ Debbie (dbodmer@rmi.net) ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ13 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Just looked out the window and saw a pink little-girl's banana-seat bike in the parking lot. Must be time to get off my seat and into the saddle. Not this evening, though. I don't want to work up a sweat before getting dressed for the banquet. Learned yesterday that the strange whine the monitor makes when I switch from white-on-black to full color is coming out of the speakers. Dave can't hear it. When I told him about it ÄÄ hoping he would know why color whines ÄÄ he told me to listen to a few hours of amplified music. I realized today why I make all my garden shirts pullovers. You can't use the tail of a button-front style as an apron to gather up stuff. I'm wearing a duck shirt ÄÄ I'm finally running out of that green-and-brown duck ÄÄ that I made to test my pattern-in- progress. I'm going to keep a copy of this stage. Was worrying on what design changes to make because the loose three- quarter sleeves trail in my cooking, but I need them to shade me in the garden, when the light-bulb appeared and I rolled them up. Noticed today that at least two of my antique children's books are prizes that Mother won in grade school. I didn't know I had any of Mother's books; the only prize I remember her having was Sunbonnet Babies, which I don't have, and I thought I got all my old books in garage sales and second-hand stores. I'd better look on all the flyleafs when I pack them up. I've been thinking of boxing them all and putting them in the shop attic this summer, so that the grandchildren can use them ÄÄ under parental supervision. Some are fragile, and some are PG-13. I do remember reading "Five Little Peppers and How they Grew" as a child, but had no idea that the copy I have was that copy. I suppose I noticed the inscription in "Sunbonnet Babies" because I read it so many times; the clean, bright pastel world the babies lived in fascinated me, and I wanted to enter into it. Rather like today's Trekkers, I imagine. I'd like to read the book again to see whether it has become as childish and inane as first readers often are. Alas, even if Susan could find a Sunbonnet reader for me, I don't remember enough to be sure I've found the same book. After the ball ÄÄ when I tried my skirt on yesterday, I thought I must have hemmed it up; I distinctly remembered tripping over it, but it cleared the floor by a good two inches. Today I put it on with my thin-soled, heel-less dancing boots . . . When they started calling the officers up to the front of the room, Dave gloried in knowing that for the first time in ten years, he wasn't going to be called. They called him up and gave him a gold watch. Later, Kay gave each of the fire committee a can of coffee and four packets of Swiss Miss cocoa. Bernie got Fireman of the year. Marty mis-spelled his name on the plaque. Andy's baby made quite a hit, and held a reception in the ladies' room. Never saw a child so calm and happy; we didn't hear a sound from her all evening. Sandy had said that Andy meant to go home when the band started playing, but I think they were still there when we left. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ14 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The Noreaster didn't quite make it up the coast. The prediction has been changed from two feet to two inches. I guess it's a good thing I couldn't talk Dave into driving up to Lake Placid to get snowed in. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The way the snow is sticking to things makes it very fortunate that we didn't get the two feet, but it also makes a picture- postcard fairyland scene at every window. Don Weeks did a "Storm of the Century of the Week" report this morning. He predicted darkness late in the day, and suggested stocking up on candles and flashlight batteries. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ16 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Every trash day, I gossip about the vast quantities of stuff my neighbor discards. Today I thought I had the ultimate capper, but when I got out to the road, I saw that it was a bathroom sink. There are yellow crocus blooming in the flower bed. This week's Storm of the Century is rapidly melting. I just finished reading Costume Design  and Making: A practical handbook by Mary Fernald & Eileen Shenton, first published 1937, second edition 1967. Interesting book, though one could want more and better pictures. I was a bit startled to see that a Saxon woman's overtunic is but trivially different from what I call a poncho shirt. Fernald & Shenton don't give any tips on keeping it from tearing under the arms, so I suspect that the saxon women didn't make them that way. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ It's bright and sunny, and hanging out the wash would be a good way to celebrate St. Patrick's day, but I'm hanging it in the cellar. Should be warm out by the time the yellow blanket comes out of the washer, though --if I put it in. Put on my duck garden shirt this morning, then was startled, while reading the Life and Leisure section, to realize that I was wearing green. The shirt is presentable, but if Dave takes me to Smitty's for lunch, I'll wear my green Smith's Tavern sweatshirt. If I can remember where I put it. Later I realized that the blue blanket was dripping on the cellar floor, so I hung it outside, taking a large towel for good measure, and when the next load came out I took out the big yellow blanket and a bath mat. When I got up from my nap, I put on a turtleneck, then, reflecting that I was about to go out for the mail, I put my duck shirt on over it as a light jacket. I've decided that I'm not only going to keep the pattern, I'll cut my silk shirt by it ÄÄ pleat in the back and all. So I measured the silk and hand-basted the ends together in a french seam this evening. It's five yards and three inches long; I expect it to be a great deal less after washing. Since the sleeves will be rolled up on occasion, I have to flat-fell the seams. In the absence of red sewing silk, I'll have to top-stitch them with black. I hope I can make them presentably neat. Found my pinking shears today. A few days ago, I wanted them for the first time in ten or twenty years, and couldn't remember where I put them; I even called Dave in to hunt, which didn't turn up any pinking shears, but reminded him of his mother's silver-plated pinkers. He figured that she must have worn them out, because she enjoyed them so much, but I told him that good pinkers can be sent back to the factory and sharpened. Couldn't find my green sweatshirt anywhere, so I hemmed a piece of green lining I'd noticed while hunting for blanket binding, intending to wear it as a scarf. Then we decided to have him bring the corned-beef sandwiches home and eat them here. But I left an ivory pin I've never worn, for fear of losing it, on Dave's desk, meaning to use it as a broach with the green scarf. I figured that circumstances were such that I'd notice if the catch failed, and having once belonged to a Bailey makes it vaguely appropriate for St. Patrick's Day. Turns out Dave had never seen it, and he was so impressed that he wants to show it to Marty. A trimming of the green lining burned like cotton, but with more enthusiasm, so I figure it's rayon. That's consistent with the way it musses easily, and the way it lost color in the creases when I wet it in the process of deciding not to use it for blanket binding. I wonder when and why I bought it. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Washing again ÄÄ so far only a sheet and pillowcases, which I should have put on to soak yesterday, but didn't. I could put another load of bed linen in when they come out. This morning I dumped out my lingerie drawer because I couldn't put away the underwear that I washed yesterday. Found the black-and-white scarf that I wanted to wear to the installation banquet. Now I've got to figure out how to get all the stuff back in. Even though the scarf isn't the only item that belongs elsewhere, it isn't going to be easy. Held the green-and-gold paisley up to myself. There's enough to make a long, voluminous, VERY LOUD party dress. It has a texture like crepe, but is so shiny it seems to glitter. Changed the bed this morning. (Took off more bedding than is in the washer.) I put the new red blanket I made yesterday on the bottom, next to the top sheet. If the children want to throw up on this one, they are going to have to wait until I get the other two washed. I have also taken to covering the corner where they sleep with a wool scarf that turned out too small for its thickness, so that I can't tie it in a knot. There are some other wool scraps I can use when that one gets dirty. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Ah, my last dirty sheet is in the washer! And every pillowcase that isn't on a pillow is on the line or the ironing board. Except that three chambray cases for the overstuffed pillows await a load of dirty shirts. Come to think of it, there are shirts on the pegs. And I dirtied a smock while plunging the laundry sink. That's housework. I put striped cases on the hard pillows to make them easy to find or avoid, as the situation requires. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The previous entry was written shortly before Dave came home from the fish fry with a bag of aprons and towels. I may have accumulated a load of whites by Thursday. Finished a smock and put pockets on the previous smock today. The pattern is developing nicely. I used my netting for the pockets; thought it was nylon, but it smelled like polyester when I pressed the creases. I find that netting pockets want to be wider than chambray pockets. I think I'll put bike-jersey pockets on the newest smock, but in front. After I return to Beyond the Tollgate and buy some polyester twill tape, that is. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Sometimes I mention the time in ship's bells ÄÄ when learning Visual Basic, Dave wrote a striking clock. We have become addicted to knowing the time in the middle of the night without ever having to count beyond four. Yesterday he added a window ÄÄ it is now 38 days (904 hours) until he retires. Hum. 904/38 is not 24. Close, though. I made a jersey pattern last night, and have my test fabric in the washer now. (Still haven't had the guts to wash my silk noil, partly because I want to dry it in a dryer, and that means I must run to the laundromat immediately after washing it. Netting pockets want to be wider than self-fabric pockets, and netting isn't good for patch pockets. So the jersey-style pockets go in the back. Though I've been toying with the idea of putting pockets all around, like a cobbler apron. (Did cobblers ever wear aprons with large pockets? Was it named after a Mrs. Cobbler who promoted them?) When I discovered that this netting was too coarse for jersey pockets ÄÄ it lets my keys poke through, and they would have sawed large holes in a big hurry ÄÄ I wore the jersey out working in the garden, and found that net pockets let the dirt fall on through when I hoe up a potato or onion by mistake and put it in my pocket to be sure of remembering to bring it into the house. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ25 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Worry, worry. I found a drowned spider in the sink yesterday, and when I got up at four this morning to play with the computer, nobody crawled out on the monitor to chase the cursor. We hadn't even named her yet. The Jeep is in the shop today. Asked them to change the oil and the inspection sticker, and they found that the shocks were shot and the front end was out of line. On the cheerful side, the shocks are still under warranty, and they took my malfunctioning hatch lock apart and found it full of rust and dirt, and think that that is all that was wrong with it. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ My silk bled like crazy, and came out a somewhat rosier shade of red than it was, but each rinse was paler than the one before, so I hope it won't bleed much more. Shrank from 36" wide to 34", and from five yards three inches to four yards thirty-two inches. Also got softer and fuzzier. When I picked up the Jeep, I locked the hatch with the key! First time the key ever worked in that lock. And I unlocked it with the switch when I got home. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ27 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Sigh. George is using his front-end loader to bulldoze all of Margie's bushes. I once told Dave that men have an instinct to clear out all around the nest so that predators can't sneak up on you. He thought it was a wonderful idea. Last fall, I wanted a flashlight that wouldn't spoil my night vision, and I hunted all over for an LED attached to an A cell. I even looked at every Christmas ornament in town ÄÄ wouldn't you think one of them would be battery operated? While my noil and knit were in the dryer, I cruised Ace and found a $1.99 keychain pocket knife with an LED in it! So I bought a "firefly"; if I ever want to go stumbling around in the dark again, I'll be ready. If the two little watch batteries aren't exhausted. I suspect that this knife was designed to keep operating just long enough to get sold. But it looks like a fairly-decent knife. Amazing that they could do it for two dollars. Even more amazing that NYS feels entitled to sixteen cents for letting me buy it, and I (by way of the hardware store) have to bear all the cost of the bookkeeping involved. "UNHH!" she said, "Dave has been using this computer." I put the typing chair all the way up, he puts it all the way down. A bit startling when I sit down thinking I was the last one to use the chair. We've been trying to decide when to go to Indiana this year. We have no appointments except for the Punkintown Fair July 29-31. Any suggestions from that end? We have decided that I'll fly back, since my relatives are more scattered than his. Dave said that since I have to get a round trip ticket anyway, I might as well fly both ways ÄÄ If I get out of two days of being strapped into a seat, that suits me! Also no decision on just when to move, but it will be at least a year after he retires at the end of April. When he set the date, he said he was giving himself a birthday present. I wonder whether we'll fly back here in the summers? ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Here I've been fussing at Dave for a decision about our trip to Indiana, and I forgot that I wanted to go to GEAR '99 Saratoga. Took a while to find out it's June 18-19, because they are calling it Rally North this year. Great Eastern America Rally doesn't fit any more. Seems to me I should have the sign-up sheets by now. US GOING TO INDIANA -- June 18-19 are taken, and July 29-31. Otherwise we have the whole summer clear. Anybody else got any tabu dates? Summer starts after Memorial Day. Quite a few appointments in April and May. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ31 March 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Pothole-repairing season officially opened today. The Times Union gave it the middle third of page one. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ2 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Started assembling my jersey prototype today --so far, I've only sewn the lower front to the front yoke. I took the obvious path when cutting the front into two parts, and extended the seam lines of the bust darts to meet each other. When I held the assembled front up to see how it fits, I realized that this places a very conspicuous seam right across the fullest part of my bust. This is not something that a Bailey really needs. I think that I did the same thing with the previous version, but started with a commercial pattern where the bust darts are two inches too high. Though exceedingly shabby, the prototype of that jersey is still becoming. I bought the same fabric, with pink and orange tulips instead of purple and yellow, for the new prototype. I cut the fabric down the line of damage in the center, and had a bit left over after cutting the jersey from one of the 30" strips, so I can make another without going out for more fabric. Don't know where I'll find safety-yellow cotton doubleknit. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Finally caught "get my Valu Page" working, downloaded, edited, printed out -- and then noticed that the coupons are good through 4/4/99! ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ5 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Forgot to try again when I was on line this morning. I forgot to buy a ham Saturday, but managed to make a sumptuous Sunday feast out of leftovers and stuff I keep in the house. Helped that that included a frozen Rock Cornish hen! I've just about made up my mind to get my sewing machine its long-deferred cleaning. Winding bobbins with a hand drill will do that for you. (The clutch is so dirty it no longer disengages.) Got the side seams on the jersey prototype sewn this morning. Aside from needing the yoke seam raised two inches, it looks pretty good. Then I started to lay out the handwork, and discovered that my two quarts of fasteners don't include black sew-on snaps. I found enough #0 to do the jersey, but I need more than that. And I might want to save the antique snaps for the silk, since you can't buy brass any more. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ6 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Snaps are brass again! I bought two cards of #1. And when the clerk was cutting the interlock for my jersey, she told me that they have sew-on reflective tape, in two colors yet. Didn't get any, since I hadn't made any plans for it. The interlock is an UGLY shade of greenish-yellow called "sage". It looks as though I'd already washed it with my black shorts. A father-son expedition: Dave just left for the vet with Fred. Fred is complaining loudly and often, but he flinches when we touch the lump behind his ear. I left my sewing machine at Sewing Services this morning. Might only need cleaning, might be an expensive job. I saw a cabinet-model Singer 400-series I'd have coveted if I didn't already have a better machine, and a portable Singer 99K that I covet anyway. Both were quite cheap. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ8 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Dave and Fred had another father-son bonding experience yesterday. The vet didn't like the looks of the lump under the ear, so yesterday morning Dave dropped Fred off on his way to work, and she cut out the lump and sent it to a lab. Fred was sober enough to come home again at three. The incision runs up onto the ear itself. Dave said that Dr. Bull said that it was much pickier work than lumpectomies on cats usually are ÄÄ she's accustomed to whacking tumors off the back, where you can grab a whole handful of fur. The receipt says that Fred weighs 15.87 pounds. I should make him stand up for his supper the way Freda does. Went upstairs to change the bed and found Fred using it. I postponed the chore even though he appears to be completely recovered from his ordeal. I washed his face, though. It's always Freda who demands food, and Fred waits patiently until he hears some action going on, then trots to the kitchen in time to get some. It was Fred who complained on Wednesday morning, and I don't recall Freda trotting in when I un- hid the bowl of dry food after Fred left for his appointment. Evening: we've had our first harvest from the garden! As I was making some rock-cornish gizzard and rice soup for my supper, I reached for a shriveled and sprouted bulb of garlic, then put it back and went out to dig up three shriveled bulbs of garlic that had sprouted in the wrong place. I was planning to go to the bike club's swap meet, but I could find only one of the books I want to get rid of, so I decided I'd rather stay home and eat gizzard-and-rice soup. I don't like to drive after dark anyway. When I got up from my nap, there was still time to get to Colonie before five, so I retrieved the sewing machine. It turns much smoother now that it's clean, and I can wind bobbins! He said that he couldn't replace the missing plate on the foot control, but it had been repaired when I unpacked it ÄÄ and that wasn't on the bill. Good work, cheap price ÄÄ but he said that the light is missing a part that isn't available any more, so I have to go on keeping a lamp on the sewing table. Which is the typewriter stand Dave used to use with his Executive ÄÄ I like it much better than the stand on the Singer 400-series cabinet model, because of the drawer and the shelf. The 400-series was a great buy on a good beginner's machine; I wish I was teaching somebody. If we weren't moving, I'd have bought the 99K just to have it. Fred seems amazingly indifferent to the gash on his neck ÄÄ but he's been hissing at Freda more often than usual. I told him that a pain in the neck makes one a pain in the neck. I washed my "sage" interlock this morning, and put cold whites in to soak until tomorrow. Looks as though we'll be getting some rain on my newly-planted onions about the time I want to hang the wash out. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ9 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Fred has been less laid-back and more interested in his food ever since he sobered up from the anesthetic. The first time I fed him, I thought it was the natural result of going a day without food, then I thought he was making up for stress, then I figured that the sore neck was making him cross. Tonight, when I rustled in the fridge and heard a "thump!" from upstairs before Freda jumped off the typing chair, I began to commence to wonder if the tumor had been making him feel depressed. The incision doesn't seem to bother him at all. Once, after washing his face, I rubbed him on that side out of habit ÄÄ couldn't see the furless patch from that angle ÄÄ and he didn't notice. I pet Fred vigorously after each wash, to make him easier to catch. Dave got a box catalog with his order of book boxes. I looked through it, thinking I'd replace the motley collection of suit boxes that I keep my fabric scraps in with a matched set, but it appears that nowadays, suits are shipped in square boxes not at all suited to store things on a shelf. And no box of any shape had the telescoping lid that I prefer, if you don't count a structure that you are supposed to fill up with other boxes to consolidate shipments. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ I've got a back-ache this morning. I also have two neat piles of mulch and a freshly-cultivated garden. I suspect that there is a connection. I did take a nap halfway through. All the dresses in Honigsbaums and Casual Set looked like floor-length shirts, of peasant style and shabby fabric at that. I was tempted to forego the scarf and cut my red silk longer, but I don't need a dress and do need a shirt. And I never dress in style anyway; the last time I was comfortable in something that was the latest rage, it was those little triangle scarves with strings attached. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Got a call Monday that the Red Cross was out of A+, so I went to the building on Hacket Tuesday. When I got there, I recognized it as the place where I picked up CPR manikins a few years ago. I thought the route felt familiar. I passed out, which tends to upset blood-bank people. I presume that they are trained that it's better to offend people by making too much fuss than to offend people by making them feel neglected. They have chairs as well as beds now, & I took the chair thinking it would be easier to get out of, but when I turned pale, they tipped it back like a dentist's chair & I had to lie back until someone sat me up again! I think it was partly because I knew when it was almost time to take the needle out again, and got stressed out wanting them to get on with it, and partly because I left immediately after my nap & it takes me about half an hour to catch up on my drinking -- gulping a whole glass of water at once doesn't work, I have to sip at it for a while. I had a bottle in the car, but was so busy finding my way that I didn't think to use it. (I made a point of it afterward, despite being full of fruit juice.) The complicated forms that I was surprised by at the Methodist church have been streamlined a bit. They serve them up in a folder with holes cut in it, so that you can see only those blanks that you are supposed to fill in. Much less confusing than the handful of papers they handed me at the church. Stopped at Stuyvesant Plaza to fill in the time before the Guilderland Knitters' Guild meeting, and bought two undershirts off Honigsbaum's winter clearance rack. Hesitated over the silk-and-wool shirt, a wonderful bargain at $15, but I don't want any more turtlenecks when mock turtles are more comfortable and look better, then I remembered that the black silk turtleneck I wear under my winter jersey is wearing out, and took it. Then when I was looking just now to verify the fiber content, I noticed that it's "dry clean only". It's ecru, so I don't have to worry about the dye bleeding, but it's almost too tight already. One of the grand-nieces may get a nice new winter undershirt. The woman organizing the Guilderland Guild seems to know what she is doing, and we already have plans for several events. It was pleasant to spend the evening knitting and nattering, and I plan to go back. If I'm invited. After writing my name and address on my 3x5 card, I laid it on the empty chair beside me and forgot about it. Went to Olsen's yesterday, and bought onion sets -- sort of. They are brand- name sets in cute little flower-bulb bags, with no hint as to what sort of onions they are, just "yellow" and "white" and "red". So I bought only one dinky bag of yellow, not wanting to raise mystery onions for storage. Besides, I had already planted two big bags of red pearl onions I got at Super valu. That was a surprise; the reduced- for-quick-sale shrink wrap (there must be a better way to group over-ripe bananas!) made it look like one little bag. The potato sets weren't in yet, and I want to plant them last week. But when I got to Supervalu, lo and behold, the "reduced for quick sale" rack was stuffed with slightly-sprouted potatoes! I got one bag of Yukon Gold and a tray of bakers. I wanted the bruised red potatoes too, but they didn't have a trace of buds, & I thought they might have been treated. Poor little Fred is back from the vet, and the way he's breathing reminds me of the way I felt just before I passed out at the blood bank ÄÄ and he has to wear the collar for a whole week! Didn't like the looks of his incision, so I called the vet, & this afternoon Dave kept the appointment. She super-glued it back together and gave us an Elizabethan collar. At least he can see through it; unlike the pictures in the books, it's transparent. Dave brought home a hard copy of the lab report; it's very encouraging ÄÄ but we plan to feel both cats for lumps every week. Today, I cut up the seed potatoes & planted the onion sets. When checking the planting instructions, I noticed that they do have a label: Stuttgart, a good storage variety. Also planted eight shallot sets. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ16 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Fred didn't take too many hours to go from paralyzed panic to miserable reproach, but he kept me up into the small hours this morning ÄÄ every time I started to drift off, he'd try to shake off the collar, and the ear-flapping would startle me awake. You'd think the flapping alone would rip open the incision, but it looked pretty good when we got up this morning. And I think Fred was asleep ÄÄ he can't get comfortable in the collar. I'd tell him I was in the body cast for eight weeks ÄÄ but in proportion to life expectancy, that was a much shorter time than one week is to Fred. Dave and Dr. Bull checked Fred's back foot and found blood on it, so it's pretty sure that he ripped open the incision himself. George is gone for a week, and we are feeding the rabbit. He ran away when he saw us ÄÄ Dave went with me this morning so he'd know where the food was ÄÄ and I thought we'd frightened him, but it quickly became apparent that he was running back and forth because he'd recognized the little plastic cup. It would be good to get the potatoes in before the rain that's predicted for today, but I don't think the cuts have healed enough yet. I suppose I could go out and plow the trench, in case I want to dash out between showers tomorrow. Buddy and an assistant are unloading shingles onto a pallet on our lawn. Will be a few days before they start work on the roof. Dave said that Buddy said that he'd rip down the dead vines and clean out the eavestroughs while they are up there. Yesterday morning, while I sat here tippy-tapping & vaguely thinking I ought to be doing something else, I got a very embarrassing phone call from the dentist's office. Fortunately, there was a cancellation, so I'm re-scheduled for next Monday. We went to the Chariot for my birthday. I considered wearing my skirt, but settled on dancing boots (with the socks Mary sent from Seattle), my gray pants, gray vest, and the new silk-and-wool turtleneck. Atmosphere luxurious, food excellent and the expense not at all out of line. Sweetbreads were still on the menu, but I ordered the pork-loin special, pork loin being a robust meat that can stand up to fancy cooking. Come to think of it, the mushroom appetizer we had tasted rather like the sweetbreads I ate there twenty-five years ago. Before we got the entree, a woman in the kitchen began to scream with fury. I joked that I was glad that the chef's name was Mike ÄÄ meaning that it couldn't be our cook that was so upset. I gathered from the waitress's apology that the chef-owner had hired another chef to supervise the kitchen while he super vised the restaurant. He certainly wasn't on shift in the kitchen, because we saw him hastily summoned from the dining room. Whatever, it didn't show in her cooking ÄÄ which no doubt explains why a screamer is still around. This morning's sports section headlined "Strawberry in Jam Again". I saw a parallel between Darryl Strawberry and the cook. Evening: It would be a gross exaggeration to say that Fred has become resigned to his collar, but the last time he glared at me reproachfully, it was because it was five minutes to cat-feeding time & the dish I was spooning cottage cheese into wasn't his. A great improvement, when we had to lock him into the cellar with his supper yesterday, even though we fed them late. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ We gave Fred a sponge bath this morning. He loved every minute of it ÄÄ until he realized that we'd put that &%#@! collar back on him. We both went out to give the rabbit his morning oats ÄÄ not on purpose. I went out one door and Dave went out the other. I'd thought I might comb him too, but when I went out without the little plastic cup in my hand, he teleported into one of the nest boxes ÄÄ I'm not sure which ÄÄ with a startling "thump!". Planted the potatoes ÄÄ or at least set them out in the row. I'll haul leaf mold to cover them when it warms up a bit. I complained to Dave about Fred keep ing me awake. He said that Fred wakes him up during the night by poking him with his collar, as if to say "If I have to have this plastic thing in my face, you are going to have this plastic thing in your face." ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Fred got another sponge bath this morning, and Dave fed the rabbit by himself. The rabbit comes to him, but doesn't like me when I'm empty-handed. Wish I'd thought to ask George what its name is; "Timmy" is painted on the end of the cage ÄÄ but the other end says "Fudge". Once a day I give him a blade of orchard grass; one mustn't offer much, because it isn't accustomed to fresh food and could get a fatal diarrhea. I went through the display of red potatoes at SuperValu and picked out a pound and a half of the smallest; yesterday I set them out, and today I filled out the left-over potato row with left-over onion sets. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The label I just cut out of my new cotton undershirt says Leon Levin. Class act all the way -- not only were the stitches separate from the construction stitches, they matched the label, so it was easy to cut them without getting the garment by mistake. They were such tiny stitches I deduce that they didn't actually expect me to do that, though -- and it's such a nice label I wouldn't have needed to if the shirt weren't transparent. (The collar shows when I wear it.) The back of the label is a mirror image of the front, without the loose strands you usually see on the back of woven labels. I'll have to fish the label from my silk undershirt out of the basket, if I can still find it, and look at the back. I decided to wear it at the last minute and was a bit rushed, so I don't know whether the labels were dobby or double faced. Drat. I was hoping that I'd been sufficiently rushed to leave the labels on the ironing board. What started this label-ripping frenzy was my silk-noil T-shirt, which got to scratching me so badly one day that I ripped it off and headed for the sewing stand. When I saw that the labels were sewn on separately, I figured the shirt wasn't quite so cheap as I'd thought it was ÄÄ but underneath them were the stubs of another set that had been caught in the construction seams. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ22 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Just what I need when we are paring down to move: according to the sewing list, you can buy all sorts of nifty fabrics for a dollar a yard at http://st6.yahoo.com/phoenixtextiles/ I haven't checked this out myself yet. Wish I'd remembered it when Dave asked me whether I wanted the computer left on line; I don't dare log in until after I get a little work done. We took Fred's collar off Tuesday. This morning, Fred let me touch him. So I combed off some loose fur, whereupon Freda horned in. He hasn't had his face washed since we took the collar off, but I don't want to push his tolerance. Checked out the site before my nap; didn't find anything I want, but this is definitely a place to look in on once a week. I'm making guava tea in the microwave. Supervalu put in a new health-and-gourmet section ÄÄ which was well over fifty- percent candy by the time they got it into its permanent home on the bottom shelf. One of the items I tried was dried guavas; alas, it is neither dried fruit nor chips. Though the label states firmly that there is nothing in it but guava, sulphur dioxide, and yellow #5 (without which it would look much better), they have quite plainly added salt and a good bait of ginger. Ever since opening it, I've been trying to remember what the Hawaiians called dried shrimp, salted plums, and snacks like that there. Dave can't quite dredge it up either, but whatever word that is, that's what "dried guava" is. Makes lovely tea, given ten minutes or so to steep, and the slices soften enough to be eaten ÄÄ but they give up most of their flavor to the tea. Another item was taro chips. Dave couldn't see why I was so unimpressed until he turned the bowl over and read the price tag: Well over a dollar per ounce. I'm trying to talk myself into going to the Washington County Sheep and Fiber Farm tour tomorrow. Well, the tour is Saturday and Sunday, but I want to drive out on Friday to start out rested. Finally called a B&B; got a busy signal the first time and an answering machine the second. 23 April 1999 I've been studying maps to plan tomorrow's day trip to the fiber festival, and my first impression is that you can't get there from here. All our major roads run parallell to the rivers, and I want to cross the rivers. As if two major rivers and two interstates weren't enough to cross, Albany and Troy also sprawl across my path. Fred has forgiven us for the collar, and doesn't accuse me of wanting to put it back on when I wash his face. On washday, most of the washrags belong to Fred. I save the yellow ones for him, because they stand up to hot water and bleach. Resorted to dark blue when I ran out, and discovered that the yellow rags also show the red gunk better, so that I can see whether I'm using a clean spot for the next swipe. The route turned out to be quite easy; all I have to do is to get off the Northway at the Saratoga Springs exit, turn east on Route 29 and stay on it. That's because I changed my mind about where I wanted to go. The first demonstration of the day is in Salem, and I had been aiming for Cambridge, where the largest cluster of farms is. Ended the evening with a noble vow to clean up my pile of papers to be attended to. I didn't even get it small enough to put back onto the old printer, but I took care of a few things, transferred a few to Dave's pile of papers to be attended to, and threw some out. I think there was more than one year of Christmas cards that I had been meaning to answer. Found an unanswered letter from Rick Brooks dated 1998. I don't think that his envelope of Banners dates back that far, so the correspondence must have continued. And now I'm feeling a terrible temptation to play a game of Free Cell, but if I do, I'll stay up until 2:00 a.m., wake up with a sore arm, and get too late a start to go to the fiber festival. Free Cell is such an unsatisfactory experience that one wants to try again. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Dave is having fun with his new toy. Alice Greenwood, one of his co-workers, gave him a self-setting clock. (It has a radio reciever set to WWV.) The retirement party is tomorrow. I was tempted to spell "co-workers" cow-orkers, but I don't think anybody else in this group is on misc. writing. I'm not myself, now that Dorothy Heydt is ill. I had been using her as a bird dog to mark the threads worth downloading; MW is too noisy to read without some sort of guide, unless you're really strapped for a way to dispose of excess time. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ30 April 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ The clock reads -5 hours. I went to Dave's retirement party yesterday morning, and played Gunga Din at a brush fire in the afternoon. Dave drove one of the tankers so we were doing pretty much the same thing, except his didn't have ice, and he made more than one trip. This morning was Dave's last day ÄÄ mostly gathering a few last items out of his office, I think. Harvey said he may call on him as a consultant once in a while. Yesterday's party broke up as soon as the refreshments were served! There isn't any space in R&P big enough for the entire staff, so they got use of Friendly's cafeteria (R&P is in the same building as Friendly Home Parties) for fifteen minutes, which kept the speeches mercifully brief. Then we trouped back through Friendly's warehouses and work rooms ÄÄ they mostly print brochures and mail them, it looked like. Dave, Alice, and I stopped in R&P's final-testing department to open and admire his gifts, then dis covered that people were lined up outside the break room waiting for Dave to take the first dip of ziti. I'm supping on more ziti right now; they made Dave take home the leftovers. There was also tossed salad with three choices of dressing, italian-bread rolls, and two cakes ÄÄ one chocolate, the other alternating layers of yellow and white. The fire was started by a train with a dragging brake, and sparks flying out of some other part of its anatomy too. It extended from Youman's Road (conveniently near Station 2) to French's Hollow. They have a robot in Voorheesville that is supposed to detect dragging equipment; I don't know how they got so far without noticing. Fred's incision is almost healed, and the fur is growing back. Last time I saw it, there was about a quarter inch of scab still on it. Tried to check just now, but Fred gets alarmed when people walk toward him on purpose. That's left over from when he was a barn kitten, but the recent episode didn't help. Later ÄÄ tried to check him out while he was eating supper, but I couldn't see the scar. I guess that's a good sign. I'll get him when he flops onto my face tonight. 1 May 1999 It looks like a nice clean scar. Over pizza tonight, Dave said that he isn't officially retired until Monday. That's the first day he doesn't go to work. We both got exercise today ÄÄ Dave walked to Voorheesville, and I rode my bike to Guilderland. It took him about forty- five minutes. I took a bit longer. Got most of my exercise trying to pump up my tires. I think I'll go to Klarsfeldt's Monday and buy a new pump. Should ask about helmets while I'm there; I read on rec.bikes.tech that you can't buy helmets any more, only naked helmet liners. The helmet won't work without the liner, to be sure, but the liner won't work without the helmet, either. It's been lovely weather ÄÄ too lovely. We could use some rain. Not hurting yet. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ2 May 1999ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Today I connected my laundry pump to the garden hose. Don't usually do that until later in the year. Baked Dave a fudge-brownie cake, and served some at Nancy's birthday party for him, after we devoured pizza and wings. I've sworn off computer games ÄÄ again. Dave says that now that he's retired, dishwashing is his job. Told him I'd do them on his birthday. Tomorrow, he takes over. Just in time: the sink is so stopped up that today I washed dishes in mid-air, unwilling to let them touch a sink that gets sewage in it every time water is run down the other sink. Lye seemed to make it worse. ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 May 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Second coat of lye did even less, but plunging worked. That, and a lot of hot water. Dave is washing his first sink of dishes now.