---L--P+----1----@10--2----+----3-----R        
                                                           
   17 August 1999 
      If I'm reasonably diligent, I should 
   finish my new skirt today, or at least get 
   it down to embroidering the twenty hook 
   eyes.  I think it will make a very nice 
   outfit with my new shirt (still waiting for 
   snaps down the front), but you guys won't 
   get to see it.  Concord cotton is very good 
   cotton, but it's still cotton.  Being packed 
   into a suitcase for a few hours would leave 
   it in desperate need of ironing.  
      I plan to bring a black polyester dress 
   handed down from my older sister, and 
   black polywool pants to wear under it.  I 
   was very insecure the first time I wore 
   that outfit, thinking it would look like a 
   fashion statement, but it eliminates the 
   need to pack panty hose and an extra pair 
   of shoes.  
      My scrub suit photographs very well!  
   Lace flipped up a bit, but I think that to 
   notice, you have to know I'm worried about 
   not easing it as much as I should have.  I 
   sewed it on just before leaving for the 
   fair, and didn't have time to do it over.  I 
   think that when the suit is washed, a shot 
   of spray starch will take care of it.  
      Pity the picture is a Polaroid, and I 
   can't put it on my page.  Cost me ten 
   dollars, all of which (presumably minus the 
   price of a frame of Polaroid film) goes to 
   buy milk for the American-born African lion 
   on my lap.  
      He chewed on my arm: babyishly 
   putting everything in his mouth, so it 
   didn't worry me, but his momma ÄÄ who 
   will have to live with him when he is much 
   larger ÄÄ scolded him for it.  
      He has wooly underfur, like a lamb, and 
   the guard hair is just starting to come 
   through.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Skirt hemmed this morning; outfit wants 
   only snaps and hooks.  Tried it on, and 
   can't think of anywhere but the Installation 
   Banquet to wear it.  Looks good with my 
   pearls.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave is on a golf course again this 
   morning.  I'm beginning to worry that he'll 
   wear it out, and have nothing to do.  
      I tidied the garden a bit yesterday, 
   and plowed up quite a few onions despite 
   having left them until the tops rotted off.  
   Only one had begun making new roots.  I 
   used the five-tine cultivator instead of the 
   slicing hoe, and will until the onions and 
   potatoes are dug up.  
      Been thinking about harvesting some 
   more tansy flowers for dye -- I have a 
   half-gallon jar in the freezer already --but 
   I don't want to bring them inside to sort, 
   and my back doesn't feel like sitting on 
   the ground this morning.  
      Pity the picnic table didn't wait one 
   more year to disintegrate.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      The last few times I'd logged in, my 
   access to UseNet and the Web had been 
   down.  Then I got an e-mail from Phoenix 
   saying that the cotton-linen shirting I'd 
   been looking at had just been moved into 
   All for a Dollar!  
      I asked Dave how to complain to Global 
   2000 ÄÄ and he re-booted the computer.  
      I ordered thirty yards of blue-and- 
   white plaid, since the twenty yards of 
   seersucker had gone so quickly.  (I cut a 
   shirt out of the last of it yesterday -- but 
   have several scraps large enough to cut 
   children's clothes.)  And got ten yards of 
   the $1.95 floral, to make summer clothes for 
   next year.  Figured that since I was in no 
   hurry, I'd wait for something suitable to 
   turn up in All for a Dollar, but I doubt 
   that floral cotton will ever be hard to get 
   rid of.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Just realized that the cloth will arrive 
   while we are gone.  But the seersucker was 
   thoroughly wrapped in heavy black plastic, 
   & I expect this shipment, being too big to 
   box, will be wrapped the same, so it should 
   do all right until Nancy finds it.  
      Must remember to tell her that it's 
   coming.  
      We went to a really big party at Chuck 
   and Tricia's tonight.  Still going strong 
   when we left.  I expect the bonfire will 
   still be burning Wednesday ÄÄ some pretty 
   big hunks of wood in it.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ22 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      We got a good soaking rain yesterday, 
   but today promises to be merely cloudy 
   and damp.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      There were three remarkable events 
   during my cat-food run to Westmere.  Or 
   maybe it was Guilderland; I'm a bit fuzzy 
   on the boundaries of the "towns".  
      First, Paradise Foods was locked.  If a 
   more-persistent customer hadn't arrived at 
   the same time I did, I'd have thought they 
   were closed.  
      Came to my usual parking spot at Price 
   Chopper and found it occupied!  Mentioned 
   it as I was checking out, and the clerk 
   said that she thought it was somebody who 
   worked there -- but when I came back 
   outside, there was a third bicycle, parked 
   on a kickstand near where I'd cabled mine 
   to the picnic table.  
      But the most-remarkable event was that 
   when I rode through the village, Roger was 
   sitting outside the laundromat, as he often 
   does ÄÄ and he said "Good Day" just as 
   plain as anybody.  
      Maybe he's been practicing.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ29 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Finally sat down to play with my toy 
   yesterday, only to find that the ramdisk 
   needed formatting and the battery was 
   dead, perhaps as a result of overheating in 
   the trunk.  So we plugged it in overnight 
   ÄÄ in an outlet that was on a light switch.  
      Things are finally working tonight ÄÄ 
   but I don't know what I meant to say.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ30 August 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Shortly before we left, Dave looked at 
   his credit-card records and realized that 
   this trip would be the first time he'd put 
   gas in his car anywhere but the Village 
   Mobil in Voorheesville.  We continued to 
   hunt for Mobil stations so that he could 
   use his Speedpass, but yesterday bought a 
   different brand.  As we pulled away, he 
   said "I hope it doesn't get indigestion!"  
      And I hope I don't find too many typos 
   in this when I put it on a monitor I can 
   see.  This monitor was very hard to read 
   before the light bulb burned out.  
      Should improve my touch typing, which 
   has been taking a beating the last few 
   decades.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ2 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      It would appear that there is very little 
   point in taking my typer with me when I 
   go on vacation.  
      Soon after we came through the village 
   and turned onto our home street, Dave said 
   "I think this road has new paint."  I added 
   "It's black under the paint." Together we 
   realized WHERE ARE ALL THE PATCHES!  
      I don't know how they repaved it in a 
   week, but I'm glad we missed it.  
      Forgot to ask Kathy H., who just called 
   to see how we liked the wall-and-ceiling 
   paint, what happened to the road.  I 
   haven't been upstairs to see what she did 
   to the bathroom yet.  
      Though a bit lumpy, the milk I forgot 
   in the fridge did pour.  I fed it to the 
   nicotina; no doubt the little critter who has 
   been tunnelling unmolested for a whole 
   week was startled when a quart of rancid 
   milk poured into his domicile.  
      I'm going to have to bring up more 
   wood chips to fill in the dent where 
   tunnels collapsed when I watered it.  You'd 
   think that a mulch of used cat litter would 
   make the critter nervous, but it hasn't 
   helped.  
      Might try mulching with catnip ÄÄ our 
   cats aren't allowed out, but I see others 
   patrolling now and again.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I'm getting the big eyes even though 
   it's two hours before six o'clock.  If there 
   is a human in the house, it must be kitten- 
   feeding time.  
      They recognized us almost at once this 
   time; I expected them to hide out until they 
   heard the clink of little dishes, but soon 
   after we got here, I started to slice an 
   orange & Freeda begged for some so 
   energetically that Fred came out to see 
   what all the noise was, so I sliced off a 
   little cheese for them.  
      And when Kathy came this morning to 
   return the key, Freeda didn't turn a hair.  
      Kathy said "Do you remember me?" & 
   Dave said "If she didn't, you wouldn't see 
   her."  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ8 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Once again, I've been alerted to trash 
   day by the clatter of my neighbor's bin 
   trash hitting the truck.  (I did remember 
   yesterday, which would have been trash 
   day if the previous day hadn't been Labor 
   Day.)  When rushing out with the bag 
   trash, I noticed that they were still 
   emptying the Lawrences' bins; had I 
   grabbed our bin and run cross-lawn, I still 
   could have made it.  Should have; the bin 
   is overflowing, owing, in part, to painting 
   refuse.  
      False alarm: in explaining why Stitches 
   wasn't held at the Mall of America, Amy 
   said "The hotels near the Mall cost 
   $20/night or more."  Alas, when I clicked 
   "reply" intending to write "Let's hold all 
   our conventions in Minneapolis!", I 
   discovered that what she had actually said 
   was "$20/night more."  
      Which goes to show you why Mrs.  
   Thistlebottom was death on using a 
   comparative without saying "more than 
   WHAT?".  
                                                           
   After supper 
                                                           
      It would appear that when I said "I use 
   dinner plates only for serving; we don't 
   need all of them.", Dave heard "I don't use 
   those plates; pack up all of them."  
      And I can't find the small platter, 
   either.  
      So tonight I served four chicken thighs 
   on a platter that's big enough for a turkey 
   and has a Very Large chip out of one 
   handle.  
      Don't know why I shoved it under the 
   china cupboard instead of throwing it out 
   when it broke, but I was glad when I 
   found it.  
      I wonder what else is down there.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ11 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave sanguinely said that I could use 
   the plates "in that cupboard over there" 
   ÄÄ pointing at Mother's wedding china.  
   (For the males, I suppose I should point 
   out that that comes out only on ceremonial 
   occasions, such as Thanksgiving.)  
      I guess I'll have to go to Sysco and 
   buy a plate or small platter.  
      Reminds me of an etiquette book written 
   when we were first recovering from the 
   idea that you should always waste food in 
   order to show that you have enough: it 
   said "the rule isn't leave food on your 
   plate ÄÄ it's leave food on the platter."  
                                                           
      I didn't take the time of year into 
   account when I bought fabric for next 
   summer's daygowns because staple fabric 
   would never make it into All For A Dollar.  
      Guess what had been moved when I last 
   checked in at www.PhoenixTextiles.com?  
      Perhaps I should buy a piece of the 
   pink-background version, if it's still 
   around when I decide that it's time to cut 
   out new cotton pants.  
      I've tentatively selected a dark-blue 
   herringbone denim.  
      When time to pack came this year, I 
   was worse off with three pairs of non- 
   winter pants than I had been with only one 
   pair the previous year.  One of the three 
   was the same pair, which had served out 
   the intervening year with very little help 
   from the other two.  One was linen: cool, 
   but looks like an unmade bed thirty 
   seconds after I put it on.  I didn't iron it 
   after its first wash, hoping that if you get 
   enough wrinkles in it, they will cancel out.  
   So those pants are worn only when it's 
   over 80øF, and I didn't take them.  
      And the third pair is "cobalt", a color 
   that clashes with nearly every shirt I own.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ16 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      This whole summer I've been meaning to 
   have Dave dump me off in downtown 
   Albany, so I could go shopping by bike 
   without getting tired first.  
      I studied the weather report and 
   announced that Monday would be a good 
   dumping day.  The weather was fine, but it 
   turned out that most of the bookstores are 
   closed on Monday.  I did find one on Cen 
   tral Avenue open -- "Flights of Fantasy", I 
   think -- and bought a paperback copy of 
   "The Lad and the Lion", possibly the only 
   E.R. Burroughs not in my collection.  
      For $5.  No lure of treasure-hunting at 
   Flights of Fantasy; the first book I priced 
   showed me plainly that they know exactly 
   what they have.  This is a place to buy 
   keepers, not books that vaguely look 
   interesting.  
      Nice to see a bookstore looking so 
   prosperous; they had taken over the store 
   next door, everything was recently-dusted 
   and neatly-arranged, and there was more 
   than one employee on the premises.  I 
   think that last was because the shift was 
   changing, but it's significant.  
                                                           
      Much to my surprise, B. Lodge's still 
   has summer hats -- though not the style 
   that I wanted.  Quite a few that I wouldn't 
   mind wearing, but none that I could fold 
   up and stuff into my purse.  
      I was also surprised to find that the 
   unpackaged underwear didn't include any 
   band-leg cotton briefs.  I bought three 
   enveloped pairs, but haven't yet opened 
   them to see whether they are as labeled.  
   The "briefs" I bought at J.C. Penney's 
   turned out to be hip-huggers.  
      Bought a made-in-China doormat, and 
   put it on the walk without ever bringing it 
   into the house.  I've liked it very much so 
   far -- it's getting rained on for the first 
   time right now.  
      Just realized that "Made in China" 
   means what "made in occupied Japan" used 
   to mean.  Hope that it works out as well.  
      But the last time, we didn't have a lot 
   of well-meaning people declaiming at every 
   opportunity that all underpaid people ought 
   to be fired.  
                                                           
      The persistent heavy rain has 
   dampened my spirits.  Where was Floyd last 
   July?  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      From Knit U: " . . . the question is not 
   whether to fudge, but whether to add 
   walnuts or pecans." -- Lee Wells 
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      The doormat has finally dried.  I think 
   it was meant for use on a porch.  
      The plant stems it's made of turn green 
   when they are wet.  
      The boys started pumping basements 
   during the night and were still at it 
   yesterday afternoon.  
      I rode out this morning to see what the 
   overflowing creek did, and found a road 
   crew almost done with cleaning it up.  If I 
   wanted to see anything, I should have gone 
   yesterday -- but yesterday I'd have flown 
   off like a kite.  
      Eight inches of rain in Delmar, and 
   about three feet in Smitty's cellar.  
      May not be any pizza tonight.  
      Route 20 was closed at Carmen Road, 
   the last I heard.  
      Dave lost a wheel cover somewhere 
   between here and the fire house.  
      Asked him whether there was something 
   I left out of this account and he said "It 
   rained like crazy."  
      Then added that the Normanskill is 
   pretty impressive at the new bridge on 
   155, and would have been over the old one.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I also bought a package of dishrags at 
   Lodge's, and would you believe, the 
   washing instructions say "warm water, no 
   bleach"?  
      They are, of course, going through hot 
   water and bleach before they ever touch a 
   dish, which, I presume, will take out the 
   blue stripes.  
      Had a green plaid dishtowel once, which 
   turned brown the first time it was washed, 
   then gradually faded to plain white.  
                                                           
      Wore my new shirt -- the pullover made 
   from the "Flower Basket" print -- to the 
   Chinese Buffet tonight, & though it's a bit 
   creased where the seat belt was, I could 
   wear it again without pressing it.  
      I'd been afraid it would muss a lot 
   worse ÄÄ wouldn't matter much if it did; 
   it's a white shirt meant for very hot 
   weather, so I don't imagine I'll be wearing 
   it twice very often.  
      I cut out the same pattern from my 
   metallic black-and-taupe this morning.  Also 
   pockets to sew onto this shirt, but not yet 
   the pockets for the metallic.  
      I'm thinking of lengthening the pattern 
   to make a slip to match my new skirt, and 
   testing the pattern by making a daygown 
   from the Flower Basket.  I think I can 
   make that and the originally-planned 
   pleated daygown too.  
      And maybe a pair of pillowcases.  I 
   bought ten yards, it took two to make the 
   shirt, probably three to make the slip gown 
   and four to make the pleated gown ÄÄ that 
   leaves only one pillowcase.  
      Fabric looks too pillowcase-like anyway; 
   I was wanting a new pair of garish cases 
   for my travelling pillows; they should be 
   unnatural enough that I can't forget them 
   in a hotel room.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ22 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Lemon thyme makes pretty good tea, 
   particularly when drunk as an accompani 
   ment to left-over "Montreal Steak" ÄÄ 
   McCormick's name for seasoned pepper.  
      I pruned the thyme two or three days 
   ago and laid it on paper-lined cookie 
   sheets in the oven; today I stripped it off 
   the stems and put it in a mustard jar in 
   the freezer, and boiled the stems for tea.  
      Still no pockets on the flowerbasket 
   shirt, but the black shirt is done except 
   for pockets and two bar tacks, and both 
   sets of pockets are hemmed and pressed.  
   Used starch, so they won't come unpressed 
   while I'm getting around to sewing them 
   on.  
      I'm planning to look around Office Max 
   for a sponge-top bottle like those we seal 
   envelopes with at calendar-stuffing parties.  
   I think that will be better than a spray 
   bottle for jobs like turning under edges, 
   but I may have trouble finding one with a 
   lid for between uses ÄÄ when using them 
   for their intended purpose, one empties 
   them when done for the day.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ24 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      The dishrags came out of the washer 
   the same color they went in, near as I 
   could tell, but a whole bunch smaller.  
      Black-and-gold shirt finished, except 
   that I forgot the bar tacks, and the 
   pockets for the Floral Basket shirt are 
   pressed and ready to sew on.  Left them 
   on the ironing board under a piece of 
   plywood that wandered into the sewing 
   room and turned out to be very useful.  
      Should have stuck it inside the black 
   shirt while I pinned on the pockets.  I 
   pinned the front to the back, and had to 
   re-pin them.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 September 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Yesterday I finally decided that I need 
   three yards of the $5/yard floral silk on 
   Phoenix Textiles' Just Arrived page.  
      Missing and presumed sold.  But 
   another fabric disappeared after a re- 
   organization, then came back for a time.  
      The pink-background Floral Basket is 
   gone too.  I've been eyeing some royal-blue 
   100%-wool gabardine at $2/yard, but can't 
   make up my mind I want something so 
   brilliant, and what I really need at the 
   moment is black cotton twill.  
      Oddly, I've seen nothing I wanted at all 
   in the higher-priced Sewsational store.  I 
   took note of the solid-color all-cotton 
   broadcloth in case I run out of lining 
   someday, but I'm fairly sure that Beyond 
   the Tollgate keeps broadcloth in stock.  
      I have a whole suitbox of cotton solids, 
   and I use only small pieces, so even a re- 
   orderable fabric might not still be around 
   when I need some.  
                                                           
      Concern about the welfare of Alan in 
   Taiwan started up a Loveless-Lecklitner 
   Bouncing Robin, and conversation naturally 
   drifted from earthquakes to floods to Dad's 
   old black pickup truck.  Here is what 
   David Lecklitner had to say (quotes from 
   Mary and me edited): 
                                                           
   Wed Sep 22  
   From: David & Debbie 
   <DELECKL@BLUERIVER.NET> 
                                                           
   Joy Beeson wrote:  
                                                           
   > Mary Love wrote:  
                                                           
   > > . . . If Dad was going to kill an engine 
   that way, it was a good thing he was 
   driving old Jezebel.  Her running boards 
   just cleared the stream as I recall.  What 
   ever happened to her, anyway?  Did Darryl 
   end up with custody?  
                                                           
   > Considering how she got her name, the 
   junkyard is a good bet.  -- Joy 
                                                           
      I never knew the old thing was called 
   Jezebel, but us kids had a good time with 
   that truck.  We would drive it and race it 
   and wreck it. Often we would be shot at by 
   gangsters.  Sometimes it would take off 
   into space.  So we got a lot of use out of 
   it.  
      Then a few years later, Darryl decided 
   he would start working on it, so he and a 
   few of his friends took the dog house 
   apart, broke a few bolts in the engine 
   block and there it sets today.  And from 
   the sound of things, it made a better play 
   pen than transportation anyway.  
      I do recall riding around in that thing 
   a long long time ago, but I was probably 
   younger than my youngest and we just 
   won't dwell on that.  
                                                           
      Glad Alan is safe and dry.  I was just 
   talking to Sara Lee last night, and she 
   mentioned he is over there.  So I got to 
   worry about him too.  I knew he was over 
   there, but I hadn't put the earthquake and 
   him together.  And they weren't.   
   -- 
   David 
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ1 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Yesterday I got my floral slip-with- 
   sleeves together enough to see that I won't 
   want to make any more changes, except for 
   lowering the pockets two inches.  
      I took two days to figure out side-seam 
   pockets in a french seam, but the next slip 
   should proceed faster.  
      I tore precisely two yards off the blue 
   plaid cotton-linen.  It does not tear well, 
   and I will draw threads hereafter ÄÄ 
   threads draw very easily.  I plan to wash 
   it and measure how much it shrinks, so I'll 
   know how much to cut off when I want to 
   make something.  
      Will that count as "using some", so that 
   I can hang out at Phoenix Textiles some 
   more?  
      I was planning to make three pillow 
   cases out of the sample, but I think it a 
   bit coarse for the purpose.  Depends on 
   how it softens.  
      I've got stuff hanging on every 
   doorknob upstairs, and hooked on the 
   window frame in the sewing room, because 
   I can't get it into the closet ÄÄ and I'm 
   busily making more clothes.  
      Snowy bleach keeps turning up in 
   stain-removal hints on the lists and Usenet, 
   so I bought a package.  Got it home and 
   looked to see what was in it so I'd know 
   what to use it on and what to use it for -- 
   the only ingredient listed is borax!  It says 
   "soil remover/water softener, gentle color- 
   safe oxygen bleach, borax, enzyme stain 
   remover, fabric whiteners and brighteners, 
   processing aids, and fragrance."  
      Harrumph.  I've half a mind to write 
   them a letter.  
      Do the specks of bluing come under 
   "whiteners"?  
      The safety warning says that it 
   includes washing soda, so I won't want to 
   use it on wool or silk.  
      I've had some luck with soaking my 
   white socks in vinegar.  Have a pair in a 
   jar now, that I meant to soak while the 
   white stuff washed, then wash with the 
   dyed socks, but I'm unexpectedly going to 
   have to run a load of dark clothes before I 
   put in the whites.  
      It seems that the "ingredients" are 
   printed on the side opposite the spout.  
      I think I'll stick to liquid laundry aids 
   ÄÄ they don't spill as easy!  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ2 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I'm going to have blood drawn for tests 
   before breakfast, but don't want to leave 
   too early, since the stores don't open until 
   ten.  Hitting the bagel shop at 9:30 should 
   be about right.  
      I had a brief visual migraine yesterday 
   morning ÄÄ that's a sort of afterimage that 
   flickers in rainbow colors ÄÄ and called 
   Casey to see whether it's anything to 
   worry about.  It isn't ÄÄ though it was 
   thought wise to move my eye exam up to 
   November (was January)ÄÄ but while he 
   had custody, I got a flu shot and orders to 
   see the blood sampler, my gynecologist, and 
   my mammogramologist.  I don't have to go 
   back to the nutritionist because I still have 
   unused advice from the last time!  
      So I'm pretty well specialistized.  
   Already had a dentist appointment two 
   weeks from next Monday.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Another bad buy.  I've been looking at 
   some gabardine that was labeled "wool", 
   but looked and felt like polyester.  But 
   what do I know about *worsted* wool, eh?  
   It didn't smell like wool, but it didn't smell 
   like polyester either, so on the way back 
   from the blood test, I bought a piece to 
   make into pants and a vest, and thought I 
   should have gotten another remnant to 
   make a matching jacket.  
      Washed it that same night ÄÄ pleased to 
   see that it hadn't changed at all in the 
   washer ÄÄ horrified to feel that it hadn't 
   gained an ounce! Wet wool should be at 
   least twice as heavy as it was dry.  
      So I flame tested it.  Still didn't smell 
   like either wool or polyester, and each 
   gives off a distinctive smell when burning.  
   It did, however, melt and drip before 
   putting itself out, so I'm not going to use 
   it even though the drips didn't stick.  
      I don't think it's nylon, and it's 
   definitely not rayon.  Acrylic?  I'll have to 
   find the flame-test guide and see what the 
   signs are.  
                                                           
      Tore my black-and-gold slip off the 
   bolt tonight.  Leaves about six yards of 
   that fabric.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Just spent a little time on the phone, 
   and now have a well-speckled calendar.  In 
   addition to all the medical stuff previously 
   mentioned, I dropped off an unglued shoe 
   (on the way back from the phlebotomist), 
   to be picked up on Wednesday, there's a 
   poets' meeting on the second Thursday, the 
   trip to the Sheep and Wool Festival on the 
   Saturday after that, and an Auxiliary 
   meeting on the fourth Thursday.  
      And suddenly I have an urge to polish 
   off the Stewart's cola in the fridge.  Just a 
   shade too late in the day to call it no 
   caffeine for three days.  
      Must be really tough on those who are 
   addicted to coffee.  
                                                           
      Luckily, Dave had finished the cola.  
   It's evening, and I'm wearing a shawl for 
   the first time, and wondering where I put 
   my writing mitts last spring.  Wore a 
   turtleneck and vest a few days ago.  Fall 
   has fell.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ7 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Yesterday, Dave entered a charity golf 
   tourney sponsored by a jewelry store.  He 
   came home with a yellow bandana ÄÄ which 
   I grabbed for a furoshiki ÄÄ two packages 
   of tees, a trophy, and a watch.  
      He says I can have the watch too.  
      As I was puzzling over the instruction 
   books for the watch, I wondered why it is 
   so much easier to make different watches 
   than to print different instruction books.  
                                                           
      I retrieved my shoe from the cobbler 
   while Dave was playing golf, went to 
   Robinson's Hardware on the way out, and 
   went to Price Chopper after.  Got dry cat 
   food at Price Chopper, but found nothing 
   at Robinson's except the conviction that I'm 
   better off with a plain light bulb over the 
   ironing board.  I was considering a full- 
   spectrum bulb, but the packages on the 
   grow lights say that they get unreasonably 
   hot, and are inclined to shatter.  Not 
   something for a socket that I'm always 
   grabbing to plug and unplug the iron.  
      A few days ago, I complained of 
   wanting an ironing valet, and Dave went to 
   the hardware store and bought a "giant 
   storage hook" ÄÄ a piece of pipe bent 
   square twice, with a plastic cap on the 
   short end, and the long end flattened and 
   drilled.  Provides about eleven inches of 
   closet rod.  He mounted it on the wall with 
   mollies, and I had it overcrowded before he 
   put his tools away.  
      But I got most of the stuff off the 
   doorknobs.  He mounted it high enough 
   that I can hang 60" fabric on it without 
   cross-folding.  
      It's the season to dig out my winter 
   clothes, but all I've boxed up is one pair 
   of shorts.  Hope to put some more in that 
   box before I open the box where I put 
   most of my turtlenecks last spring.  
      Took in Delaware Plaza after getting my 
   mammogram ÄÄ had fun, but didn't find any 
   reason to go back.  
      This afternoon, I disposed of the last of 
   the e-mail messages that had come while we 
   were gone.  Now I can re-subscribe to 
   some of the mailing lists that I killed, 
   but I don't think I will.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ8 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave had to ask for his watch back 
   today.  It seems the golf tournament made 
   a bit of a splash, and all his friends want 
   to see what he won.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ10 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I'm considering pancakes for breakfast 
   -- Aunt Jemima's "The Original: Now 
   Lighter and Fluffier".  
                                                           
      While I was proofreading, Dave read the 
   account of his golf tournament & said "I 
   came in third net."  They had five under 
   par gross.  
      He says that for a winning team, you 
   need a good driver, a fellow who is good 
   on the fairways, a good putter, and a guy 
   with a really big handicap.  
      Dave was good at chip shots, but it 
   makes a better story if you stop after "big 
   handicap".  
                                                           
      Evening: Dave says that he and Nancy 
   H. have decided to name the brown kitty 
   "Lucky".  
      All summer I've been seeing a nice- 
   looking gray and white cat around, and 
   assumed that it belonged to someone in the 
   neighborhood.  A week or three ago, I was 
   hanging up clothes and noticed that the 
   cat was looking rather scruffy.  
      A few days ago, Dave said "I think the 
   brown kitty is dying."  I went out and saw 
   that it was my gray-and-white cat: seen 
   up close, it is grayish brown.  
      It was crouched in the wet grass 
   looking miserable, and it wasn't interested 
   in some milk I tried to feed it.  The milk 
   disappeared later on, and I gave it milk 
   and butter the next day -- I didn't think 
   skim milk was good for cold cats.  
      Yesterday or the day before, it turned 
   up just when I was feeding the cats 
   canned food, so I filled an extra dish, 
   garnished with bacon grease on the side, 
   and put it under Lucky's nose.  Later on, 
   I looked out the window and saw it staring 
   at the dish as if to say "I'm starving, but 
   I just can't stomach this," so I took out a 
   dish of milk and it lapped that.  Seemed 
   eager, but didn't drink it all.  Both dishes 
   were empty the next morning, except for 
   two curls of bacon grease.  I dumped them 
   into the lemon thyme, and we saw it eating 
   them the following day.  
      All in all, it's been getting more 
   energetic, but the eye infection is getting 
   worse.  Dave and Nancy are plotting to 
   catch it tomorrow, and take it to a vet in 
   Greenfield.  
      I didn't see it to put out any food 
   today, but Dave saw it washing itself in 
   the garden.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Got on the Web today trying to find out 
   whether there can be a full week's delay 
   before a flu shot starts making your arm 
   sore, but there are so many "you *must* 
   get a flu shot" sites that I couldn't find 
   any of those that are willing to admit that 
   there can be side effects.  
      'Tain't sore to the touch anyway; only 
   to movement in certain directions.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ13 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      How retired is he?  I asked Dave to set 
   the alarm so I wouldn't sleep through my 
   appointment with Dr. Casey, and he didn't 
   remember how!  
      He figured it out -- I think; I woke up 
   four minutes before the time it was set for, 
   and turned it off.  
      And he called about four minutes after 
   the time it was set for, just to make sure.  
      So I'd better down the floor and out 
   the door.  
                                                           
      Dr. Casey agreed that there was only 
   one muscle, the deltoid, involved.  Most 
   likely, he thinks, the flu shot nicked a 
   small blood vessel and the hemmorage 
   didn't start swelling until the clean-up was 
   well underway.  
      Amazing how much not being able to lift 
   the left arm interferes with ordinary life -- 
   hope I'm fit to drive by Saturday; in my 
   current shape, I'd be doing well to make it 
   to Guilderland, let alone Rhinebeck.  
      And riding my bike to Westmere to buy 
   a Dutchess County map is right out.  
      My test results were in ÄÄ cholesterol 
   could be lower, but nothing requires 
   attention.  
      So I'm cooking steak for supper!  And I 
   put a lot of brown sugar in my breakfast 
   grits.  Sugar has no direct effect on blood 
   fat, but I could stand to lose some blubber.  
      Never thought I'd weigh this much, but 
   I'm doing pretty well for my heredity.  
                                                           
      I haven't seen Lucky today, and I did 
   see a gray cat who could account for the 
   vanishing milk and the lap marks on the 
   skillet I fried the last of the bacon in.  
      Urk!  I stopped at SuperValu to get the 
   most out of my painful trip to Voorhees 
   ville, and didn't get any breakfast meat.  
   We have two jars of dried beef and lots of 
   frozen bread, however.  
      I also forgot potato flakes; we have 
   enough raw potatoes for supper, but I 
   don't feel like peeling.  Deltoid doesn't 
   object if I rest my elbow on the counter, 
   though.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ14 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Morning: That's either the gray cat or 
   Lucky crouching in the windy driveway, 
   and I think I see white back legs.  
      Afternoon: Lucky last seen crouching 
   in the sun against the cellar window.  
      I spent the first part of the week 
   wondering at how much a left arm con 
   tributes to daily life; after getting back 
   from the doctor, I marvelled at how much 
   one can get done with the left elbow held 
   firmly against the side.  Then Dave came 
   home, asked after my condition, and I 
   discovered that I could lift the arm twice 
   as far as I did for Casey.  Which still 
   wasn't far, but it's much improved this 
   morning, and I didn't have any trouble 
   getting into a comfortable position in bed.  
   On previous nights, in some directions, the 
   arm hadn't even put up with being moved 
   with the other hand.  
      Evening: Showed Dave that I have my 
   full range of motion back, and he was 
   impressed at how fast I'm healing, now that 
   I've gotten around to it.  
      The demonstration made my arm hurt, 
   but if the cause is what we think it is, 
   exercise will help work the fluids out.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I just noticed ÄÄ the Free Cell game 
   that Dave can't solve is #1941.  
      That's the year I was born.  
                                                           
      I'm dithering over what to pack for my 
   picnic lunch tomorrow.  I've already got 
   some raw vegetables soaking in cold water 
   in the fridge, and a little milk in a 
   disposable pint jar in the freezer, to be 
   filled and packed at the last minute.  I 
   plan to take a few of my raisin-and- 
   sunflower-seed "cookies" (muffins baked in 
   a jelly-roll pan) and we have fresh fruit 
   and whole-wheat bread.  But what do I put 
   on the bread?  Despite the partly-frozen 
   milk, I don't want to take anything that 
   isn't safe when not chilled.  
      I think I'll take naked bread, and count 
   on buying my main dish from a vendor.  If 
   they run out before I get to the head of 
   the line, I can eat the bread.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Poor little Lucky isn't hurting any 
   more.  We caught her yesterday and took 
   her to a vet in Greene County, undecided 
   whether it was for kill or cure.  While she 
   was on the table, Dave got a little careless 
   because she'd been so docile, and she 
   settled the matter by biting him.  
      We would probably have settled on 
   "kill" anyway, because the gangrene was 
   pretty bad and she'd have been expensive 
   to treat, with not a lot of chance to 
   recover, she'd already lost one eye and 
   might lose both, and she had no prospects 
   of a home.  
      She was still luckier than most of the 
   cats people dump.  
      We took the head to Griffon Lab our 
   selves, and I was surprised at how much 
   there is back there; I'd thought that the 
   big brick building you can see from the 
   road was all there was.  The rabies lab is 
   a long drive to the far back, with many 
   zig-zags marked by big arrows.  I suspect 
   that they put it back there on purpose, 
   because they have to leave the cold room 
   unlocked after hours, with newly-delivered 
   specimens exposed to mischief.  Trashers 
   would be likely to get bored or nervous 
   before they got all the way back.  
                                                           
      I finally made up my mind to buy ten 
   yards of dark-indigo herringbone denim to 
   make pants and maybe a matching jacket- 
   shirt, after checking the new stuff that 
   came in yesterday see whether it included 
   something better.  Tried to log in, and 
   Global 2000 is flushing the server or 
   something; Trumpet can't parse the IP 
   address.  
      While dressing this morning, I opened 
   the box where I put turtleneck shirts last 
   spring.  The first shirt I pulled out was a 
   mop rag, so I may not have as many cotton 
   t-necks as I thought.  
      Spent the morning reserving a room at 
   the Guilderland Library for the November 
   meeting of the Guilderland Knitting Guild, 
   with stops along the way at the Voorhees 
   ville Library, the Guilderland Dollar Saver 
   (a second-hand store), and Falvo's meat 
   market.  I'd meant to go after my appoint 
   ment with the dentist yesterday, but on 
   the way out I realized that I'd forgotten to 
   shave, and it was lunchtime when I 
   finished, so I came home to shave, eat, and 
   put on a warmer shirt.  By the time I'd 
   eaten lunch, it was naptime, and when I 
   got up from my nap, it was time to take a 
   dying cat to Greene County.  
      I have to go back Monday to have the 
   abutment of my Maryland bridge repaired.  
   Ellenbogen mentioned that it had been 
   installed in 1989, and was rather pleased 
   that this was the first maintenance 
   required.  
      I often refer to 1989 as the year 
   everything happened, but I'd forgotten the 
   Maryland bridge.  That means that the 
   failed oral surgery and my train ride to 
   Indiana also happened in 1989.  Or maybe 
   the summer of '88; I didn't ask what month 
   the bridge was installed.  
      No wonder I slept through '90.  
                                                           
      I think I'll append the GKG's October 
   minutes: 
                                                           
                                                           
   MINUTES OF THE OCTOBER 1999 MEETING 
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿField trip to ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
   ÿÿNew York Sheep and Wool Festival ÿ 
   ÿÿÿÿÿin Rhinebeck on October 16 ÿÿÿÿ 
                                                           
      Only two members came by car pool.  
   After a bit of confusion when Sally Carey 
   went to one parking lot and Joy Beeson 
   went to another, we set off in Sally's car 
   about 8:20 and arrived at the Duchess 
   County fairground a little after 10:00, with 
   one rest stop along the way.  
      Neither of us wanted to carry knitting 
   all over the fairground, but that turned 
   out to be a mistake.  There were benches 
   here and there, but we never parked on 
   one long enough to do ourselves any good, 
   so we were both aching tired when we 
   decided that we'd seen everything and 
   might as well do our sitting in the car.  
      We walked through one building and 
   back through the next, stopping at every 
   booth.  We skipped the animal-only 
   buildings, except for the one nearest the 
   ice-cream stand -- with two dripping 
   cones, we didn't think that we'd be 
   welcome in a fiber building.  Each of us 
   thought one more layer of clothing would 
   have been appropriate, but we were moving 
   briskly early, and it warmed up later.  The 
   place started getting crowded just before 
   we left -- about three o'clock, I think.  
      In the grand tradition of fiber 
   festivals, I figured out what to do with the 
   yarn after I'd passed up my chance to buy 
   it.  At the same booth where Sally found 
   the elusive book and poster of clog and 
   sandal socks, I saw some 50/50 wool-Mohair 
   fingeringweight that should make very 
   durable socks, but passed it up because 90 
   yards is too little, a whole cone is a big 
   investment, and I already had twelve 
   pounds of sock wool in a box in my closet, 
   not to mention what's in the clear trash 
   bag.  (Which was a mistaken assumption: I 
   just went up and counted: I *ordered* 
   twelve cones of Greylock, but they were 
   out of brown, so I have only eleven.)  
      Now I realize that I should have bought 
   one of the 90-yard skeins so I could make 
   a Greylock sock, take up the mohair-wool 
   as the second yarn for the heel, then drop 
   the original yarn to knit the mohair from 
   both ends, alternating socks until it runs 
   out, and finish the toes with Greylock.  
   That would have given me a good test on 
   the durability of the yarn.  I did take a 
   flyer with her address ÄÄ The Hill, Juanita 
   Reynolds, Rt. 4, Box 20, Rustburg, Virginia 
   24588, (804) 821-8854 ÄÄ but I'll never mail- 
   order one scrawny skein of yarn.  
      I saw some Jacob yarn somewhat like 
   the yarn that I passed up at the Colored 
   Wool Festival in Altamont fifteen or twenty 
   years ago, but I'm out of the mood.  
      The picnic with West Sand Lake didn't 
   come off, as we didn't see any West Sand 
   Lake people.  We're pretty sure they didn't 
   show, but decided that next year we must 
   wear something distinctive to help us find 
   each other.  Many people known to Sally 
   were encountered at various places -- 
   including the rest stop on the Thruway!  
      The food vendors were superb, 
   however.  I rejected the taco salad, partly 
   because I'd come to eat *lamb*, and partly 
   because I was afraid it would blow away 
   before I could eat it, but I saw it here and 
   there all over the fairgrounds during the 
   afternoon -- mostly on the laps of people 
   in booths that were sheltered from the 
   wind, come to think of it.  That same 
   vendor sold water at $1.00/bottle when 
   everyone else was charging $1.50, and 
   pointed out, while I was waiting for my 
   nice heavy meatball sub, that his bottles 
   were bigger than the others.  I weighted 
   my paper plate with a bottle I'd bought at 
   SuperValu for $0.39, however.  
      We came back by the scenic route, and 
   took in Amazing Threads along the way.  I 
   bought thread!  Hardly anybody sells 
   decent all-cotton sewing thread.  I've got 
   my doubts about this stuff, as it's only 
   three ply, but it's sure to be stronger 
   than the black cotton I already had.  I 
   bought a spool of #40/3 to use if the #50/3 
   turns out to be feeble.  I was amused to 
   note that the name of #40 has changed 
   from "heavy duty" to "quilting".  
      Being tired, we gave Patternworks a 
   pass.  We skipped their booth at the fair, 
   too, since the catalog was about all there 
   was to it, and each of us has a copy at 
   home.  
      We stopped at the very first diner in 
   Catskill, and lucked out: we each had an 
   excellent Greek sandwich wrapped in a 
   fresh-baked yeast pancake.  We felt even 
   luckier as we passed MacDonalds and 
   Burger King on the way out of town!  
      Somewhere along the way, we held a 
   board meeting and appointed Joy Beeson to 
   choose the time and place of the next 
   meeting.   
      [I edited out some dull bits.] 
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Ordered ten yards of indigo denim and 
   five yards of pink Floral Basket yesterday.  
   Stephen said they'll send me the tracking 
   number when they ship it.  
      Now watch them get black work-weight 
   twill into stock!  
      Learned from a Knitting Guild member 
   that Fountain of Fabrics is still in 
   business, and Country Cottons has changed 
   its name to Flying Geese, and moved across 
   the street.  I'm gonna have to get out to 
   that side of town sometime this fall.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 October 1999ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Visited Fountain of Fabrics on the way 
   back from Dr. Irani's today.  
      Brought home a prescription for a 
   bone-density test.  Just when I thought I 
   was coming out the other side.  
      Panicky moment as I entered the office 
   and realized I'd forgotten my referral slip.  
      Followed, after a bit, by the realization 
   that the slip is for the Monday after next.  
      Next Monday is the abutment repair.  
      Do I have to do all of it again next 
   fall?  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 October 1999ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Every now and again, one of the cats 
   will remind me of poor little Lucky.  I 
   think Dave feels worse about her than I do 
   ÄÄ but he has a rather painful reminder.  
      When he got his flu shot yesterday, 
   Casey gave him a tetanus shot and 
   prescribed an antibiotic.  
      The paper report from the lab came in 
   yesterday's mail.  They phoned us a few 
   days ago ÄÄ a few hours after Dave had 
   phoned them.  I presume it was two 
   different "thems".  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ24 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Eeeouch.  If you think being unable to 
   raise the left arm interferes with daily life, 
   try being unable to close the right fist.  I 
   noticed yesterday that a small lump on my 
   wrist didn't like to be bumped; today it's 
   so sore that I can't use my little finger, 
   and I don't like using anything attached to 
   it.  
      I'm seeing entirely too much of Dr.  
   Casey.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ25 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Got my bridge abutment fixed this 
   morning ÄÄ no novocaine, and eat anything 
   right away.  I adore modern fillings!  
      Have an appointment with Casey for the 
   tendonitis tomorrow.  Eye exam next 
   Monday.  Haven't made an appointment for 
   the bone scan.  
      I was alarmed at being measured at 5'2" 
   ÄÄ I'm 5'3" ÄÄ but my height varies at 
   least two inches with mood.  I often have 
   to re-adjust the rear-view mirror for a 
   shorter person on my way home from a 
   tiring event.  
      In the speech that made me so afraid of 
   confessing an injury that I permanently 
   damaged my knees, my high-school gym 
   teacher said "I don't want to hear that 
   your little finger hurts."  
      I think the sore little finger is 
   interfering with my life more than the sore 
   arm did.  
      I worried about getting out of pullovers 
   with the sore arm, but I could hook my bra 
   ÄÄ and I drove myself to have the arm 
   attended to.  Dave took me to the dentist 
   this morning, is responsible for the 
   groceries tonight, and may have to drive 
   me to Casey tomorrow.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ27 October 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I recovered before I could get to Dr.  
   Casey.  Had a severe case of overuse 
   syndrome in the other arm by then, but 
   I've got both hands now.  Will probably 
   mow the lawn tomorrow.  
                                                           
      ???? When I first started using canvas 
   grocery bags, they had a great deal of 
   trouble giving me the refund, because the 
   program took it off the grocery bill, and 
   meats and vegetables aren't "groceries".  
   (They seem to have corrected that, but the 
   refund has quietly dropped from 5› to 3›.)  
      Today I bought a roll of wrapping 
   paper, and it was listed on my tape as a 
   "taxable grocery".  
                                                           
   28 October 1999 
      Finally mowed the back yard this 
   afternoon.  Meant to sweep up leaves in 
   the front yard first, but Dave is out 
   golfing or something, and I don't know how 
   to put the bags on the riding mower.  Well, 
   I know how to put the bags on, but he 
   took off the bag holders last spring, since 
   he never collects clippings, and I never 
   use the riding mower in the summer.  
      Grumbly-gripe.  It's nearly half-past 
   two, and neither the mail nor my roll of 
   fabric has been delivered.  Perhaps I 
   should log into www.ups.com and see 
   whether the herringbone was loaded onto 
   today's truck or is still on its way to 
   Albany.  
      Ik.  I still stink of gasoline.  This was 
   the first pour out of the full can, and I 
   spilled it.  
      Herringbone arrived while I was waiting 
   for the page to download.  The white 
   threads are much more prominent than I 
   expected.  I was also surprised that the 
   fabric is reversible.  
      I got all ten yards into the washer, but 
   it was a struggle.  It ain't going to agitate 
   in there.  
      Apparently my order was among the 
   first 750, because it contained two yards of 
   black velveteen.  Nice stuff ÄÄ now what 
   do I do with it?  
      One thing I won't do with it soon is 
   wash it!  It will take a long time to soak 
   the sizing out of the herringbone.  
      I should have cut it into two pieces.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      It's five o'clock, and Freeda and Fred 
   are wondering why I don't feed them.  
   After two days we had reset all the clocks; 
   resetting the cats won't be quite so easy.  
      Nearly time to buy gasoline again; the 
   riding mower uses it a lot faster than the 
   walk-behind.  But I got the last of the 
   leaves mowed up today.  A lot more have 
   fallen, but the grass hasn't grown, and I 
   may let them lie.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ9 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Printed out a document, then realized it 
   had been a long time since I dragged 
   perfilage around for the cats.  After they 
   had gotten both strips of paper torn short, 
   I dangled one over Fred, he caught it -- 
   and said that it tasted terrible.  
                                                           
      Hauled a load of leaves to the compost 
   heap this morning, thought the leaf hauler 
   was a trifle too small, I had two rolls of 
   agricultural burlap & enough carpet bind 
   ing for one side, and the heavy twill tape I 
   bought from The Rainshed did nicely for 
   the other.  
      The old hauler was made square by 
   cutting two pieces twice as long as the 
   width of the fabric, so I cut three three- 
   yard pieces for the new one.  (Plus hem 
   allowance.)  
      I didn't multiply that out until I was 
   zig-zagging the last edge.  It's bigger than 
   my huge king-size sheets!  I make them 
   three yards wide, but only ninety inches 
   long.  (Plus two false hems.)  
      Used up two left-over spools of Dual 
   Duty, and started the last one.  I don't 
   like Dual Duty for cotton because it's 
   polyester, and I don't like it for polyester 
   because it's cotton, but it's strong enough.  
      Pity I didn't have this huge hauler 
   when I was mowing up the leaves.  I could 
   have emptied the bags on it without having 
   to stomp the leaves down, and I wouldn't 
   now be hauling leaves out of the windbreak 
   to the compost heap.  
      Hope I get finished before the snow 
   flies; there are still some leaves in there 
   from last fall.  I'm mixing them through the 
   others as much as I can, to speed up the 
   rotting.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ11 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Decided not to let the leaves lie, and 
   made one trip with the new hauler 
   yesterday.  Had to stomp the leaves down 
   anyway, but they didn't spill over the 
   edges.  
      Didn't finish the job, so this morning I 
   bought more gas & refilled the mower, but 
   it's still too wet to mow at 10:17.  
      I didn't even notice when it got to be 
   11:00 today ÄÄ and I went out for the mail 
   twice before I realized there wasn't any.  
      Started mowing about noon, and was 
   finished by 1:00.  
      The new leaf hauler isn't a bit too big.  
      Sunset at half-past four makes for a 
   gloomy evening.  
      I impulsively ordered ten yards of 
   dress-weight 60" wool gabardine today.  
   Even though the swatch was a featureless 
   black square.  
      Could use a wool shirt today; it's 
   getting nippy.  Had to wear a thin jacket 
   and cotton gloves while mowing up the 
   leaves.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ12 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Leafing back through the file, I read 
   the start of my search for a starch- 
   dispenser.  After looking at water 
   dispensers for a while, the dime fell and I 
   cut a quarter-inch slice off a new cellulose 
   sponge, and keep it in a pill bottle, now 
   and again dampening it with a squirt from 
   the starch bottle.  I can dampen a narrow 
   stripe, or a stripe nearly an inch wide.  
      Mitered the corners on the fronts of my 
   new shirt today, using a method given in 
   an article about sleeve vents in the 
   current Threads.  Since the fabric is thin, 
   I simplified the technique by drawing the 
   stitching line on the right sides, with a 
   ruler, then used the pin-rubbing method to 
   transfer it to the wrong side.  Then I just 
   matched the stitching lines, and sewed it 
   like a dart.  Is a dart, really.  
      I'm not at all sure why she thought 
   you need a "point presser", whatever that 
   is, to open the dart and iron it flat.  
      No doubt something to do with suiting, 
   which won't take as vigorous an ironing as 
   cotton print.  I stuck the nose of the iron 
   into the dart to open the seam allowances, 
   then put the dart on the sleeve board (so 
   stuff that I didn't want to involve fell 
   down out of the way), arranged the shape 
   to fit the corner, pressed it, put a little 
   starch inside, pressed it again, turned it 
   right side out ÄÄ using a hem gauge for a 
   point turner, since I've mislaid that little 
   plastic triangle yet again [it was in plain 
   view, stuck between two of the Scientific 
   American boxes over the ironing board] ÄÄ 
   pressed it, then arranged the corner on 
   the big board and flattened the hem and 
   facing again.  
      And then I basted the hem and the 
   facing.  That miter ain't goin' noplace.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ14 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      The "seedless clementine" I just ate 
   had a few seeds in it ÄÄ and I think that 
   it was significantly sweeter and easier to 
   peel than the others.  
      Perhaps I should eat another to be 
   sure.  
      Yup.  This one is definitely more tart 
   than the previous clementine, and I took 
   the skin off in more pieces.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Fall has fell.  I took the hose off the 
   pump, re-connected the pump to the sewer 
   line, and closed the cellar doors.  It was 
   quite easy, and made practically no mess.  I 
   must be getting the hang of it.  I even 
   remembered to put the screwdriver back in 
   Dave's tool chest.  
      I closed the outer doors ÄÄ with some 
   difficulty, after so much practice in putting 
   them down wrong-door-first ÄÄ but didn't 
   quite close the inner door; it sticks even 
   worse than when I kicked it open last 
   spring.  Dave says he'll take care of it 
   tomorrow.  He has made a marvelous 
   difference in the front door and the entry 
   door just by sanding the bottoms.  
      Dave is getting serious about the 
   possibility of moving.  Yesterday I packed 
   up three boxes of Scientific American.  
   Dave said that sending me to pack books is 
   like sending a fox to guard the henhouse, 
   but I read only two articles, and skimmed 
   both of them.  
      Packing will be difficult: there aren't a 
   lot of books that I want to keep, but don't 
   mind making inaccessible for months.  
      A few days ago, I unearthed E.R.  
   Burroughs' Gods of Mars, and followed that 
   immediately with a copy of McCaffrey's 
   Freedom's Landing that I got at a rummage 
   sale.  (Got a fondue pot too, and it works 
   very well to make rice soup.)  
      If you are familiar with Barsoom, you'll 
   find it surprising that Freedom's Landing  
   put a lot more strain on my suspension of 
   disbelief than Gods of Mars did.  I think 
   that it's because Burroughs does more to 
   make it worth my while.  
      Barsoom has only one river, which flows 
   from the north pole to the south pole, 
   where "great pumps" send it back to the 
   north pole again ÄÄ and it's plain that 
   recirculating fountains weren't common 
   table ornaments in Burroughs' day, for he 
   doesn't say a word about how dirty the 
   water would get.  
      To counter the mighty River Iss, 
   McCaffrey offers me . . . a baking-soda 
   mine.  
      And she tosses it off as something one 
   is certain to find within a day's walk of 
   any place where one might get dumped 
   onto a planet.  
      Not to mention the half-dozen other 
   mines found within two weeks of being 
   dumped like a vacationer's cat.  
      Despite being completely covered with 
   well-tended fields, Botany appears to be as 
   well equipped with genetically-engineered 
   weeds as Pern.  
      I'll have to re-read Restoree sometime 
   to see whether that planet is as overly-well 
   furnished as Pern and Botany.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I wasn't impulsive enough when I 
   ordered the black gabardine.  I just got a 
   note from James Duplantis saying it is sold 
   out.  
      They warned me that it was in limited 
   supply.  
                                                           
      The auxiliary meeting was tonight 
   because the Fire Chiefs are using the room 
   tomorrow.  This was the first time I came 
   home after dark since Dave shaved the 
   door ÄÄ it was startling to lock the door 
   just by turning the knob, with no kicking 
   and hip-thumping.  
      We went to have a plowman's lunch at 
   the Man of Kent today, but they are closed 
   on Wednesdays, so we ate barbecue 
   sandwiches at the Falls Diner.  My pork 
   hoagie was better than Dave's bacon 
   cheeseburger; he said he couldn't taste the 
   barbecue sauce.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Poor Dave!  We were going to try again 
   on Monday, but this afternoon, our 
   opthalmologist's office called to remind him 
   of his appointment.  
      Poor me ÄÄ he's got an all-male trip to 
   Man of Kent later in the week, so it will be 
   a while before he's eager to go back.  
      He played golf this morning; such a 
   pretty day wasn't to be wasted.  I hung 
   out a load of dish towels and pillowcases 
   ÄÄ probably for the last time this year, 
   since I don't wash hot-with-bleach very 
   often, and sunshine isn't important to stuff 
   that I don't bleach.  
      Noticed today that fixing the inner 
   cellar door so that it will close won't be as 
   easy as sanding the front doors was.  The 
   latch hits it at least a quarter inch from 
   the edge.  
      Meat loaf for supper tonight, and I 
   made another one for the freezer.  Put a 
   quartered potato under the one in the 
   oven.  I used a package each of ground 
   round and ground pork.  Threw in a few 
   chopped dried cherries, and a packet of 
   ham-flavored MSG.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave complained that the meatloaf was 
   "sweet"; I puzzled over that, because he 
   likes sugared meat, I dislike sugared meat, 
   and it didn't taste sweet to me.  
      Just had a cold slice for a bedtime 
   snack, and I think maybe I overdid the 
   lemon thyme.  
      I'm pleased with my fondue pot as a 
   rice cooker.  I put a third of a cup of 
   "wild-mix" rice, two-thirds of a cup of 
   water, and a rounded half-teaspoon of salt 
   in it.  It was done when I was ready to 
   dash out to get a package into the mail 
   before the post office closed, so I put the 
   leftover swiss steak and a lump of leftover 
   cheese sauce on top to get hot, and went 
   to the post office.  
      Dropped off Principles of Knitting at 
   the library on the way back (I had made it 
   to page 310), then got sidetracked by a 
   book of Urban Legends ÄÄ those few that 
   were new to me weren't very good ÄÄ and 
   didn't get home until after two.  The rice 
   was still perfect!  
      The package was four yearbooks of 
   Mary's; I've no idea how they got among 
   our yearbooks.  
      Curious: I leafed through one looking 
   for Mary, and my eye snagged on another 
   picture ÄÄ turned out to be Linda Loveless.  
   I must have seen her sometime, if I noticed 
   her picture before I spotted my own sister, 
   but I don't recall any Loveless named 
   Linda, and I don't recall having a cousin 
   Mary's age.  So I'm counting Dick's family 
   and Junior's family and coming up fuzzy.  
      Found my senior scrapbook from Colfax: 
   I don't recall half those kids.  Only four or 
   five of them named Bill; I was sure it was 
   all the boys except George and Marvin.  
   And there is no George.  He could have 
   been the year before or after, though, 
   since Colfax tended to run the juniors and 
   seniors together.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ23 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Yesterday dawned bright and beautiful, 
   so I suited up and rode my bike to SUNYA, 
   where I disposed of a dirty book by giving 
   it to the Special Collections librarian.  
      I thought the unusual exercise wasn't 
   bothering me ÄÄ until I stopped moving for 
   a while.  
      Took a nap, an aspirin, and a hot pack 
   that evening, but I'm not a bit sore this 
   morning.  
      Except in the left shoulder, but that's 
   been sore for weeks.  
                                                           
      <snort!> Was reading the 
   medicinal-herb FAQ to postpone 
   bedtime, got to the section on 
   sleep inducers.  In the middle of a 
   string of recipes for various teas, 
   pillows, and incenses was: "organic 
   chemistry textbooks".  
      Herbal FAQs seem fairly effective too.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ24 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Sewed the last two snaps on my paisley 
   shirt this evening, and tried it on in front 
   of the mirror.  I do believe that I'm ready 
   to cut the red silk.  
      Pity I can't buy red thread, but I 
   expect the fabric to fade so badly that the 
   thread wouldn't stay matched, so it's best 
   to start out with a contrast and make it 
   look intentional.  
      Also ironed the herringbone that I tore 
   off to make a pair of pants, and learned 
   what the "high" setting on my garage-sale 
   iron is for.  Kept nudging it to make sure 
   it was turned all the way up, and I usually 
   set it one notch lower than the dial tells 
   you to.  Easiest I ever ironed such heavy 
   cotton.  
      But I won't be cutting out shirts and 
   pants tomorrow.  
      Hindquarter of turkey isn't in my 
   cookbook.  Bake as for that many pounds 
   of stuffed chicken, I suppose.  
      I wonder how much flak I'd get in the 
   morning if I had mince pie for a bedtime 
   snack.  
      Oh, goody, there's another piece 
   missing.  (We believe in eating our 
   leftovers while they are fresh.)  
      I went whole hog & bought vanilla ice 
   cream to have with it.  Had to buy a half 
   gallon, since plain doesn't come in small 
   containers.  Friday, I must pack what's left 
   into an airtight container and put it in the 
   downstairs freezer for Christmas.  [didn't] 
      Forgot to buy canned sweet potatoes 
   yesterday, and went back this evening.  
   Came out with two full bags.  
      But one of the bags was a ten-pound 
   sack of cat litter.  I buy it whenever they 
   have my brand in stock.  Odd that there 
   was only one bag when they had none 
   yesterday.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Sigh.  I paused to watch a totally- 
   unfamiliar old movie on the TV -- and 
   predicted the next joke.  
      I guess I've seen it all.  
      Babylon 5 was fun while it lasted, but 
   the last season was near nothing.  
                                                           
      Thanksgiving was less fuss than I 
   expected ÄÄ everything but the turkey, 
   mashed potatoes, and gravy came out of 
   cans.  Well, the stuffing was in a box.  I 
   mashed the potatoes ahead of time, sprayed 
   them with imitation butter, and put them in 
   the oven with the turkey leg.  
      Baking a hindquarter was a great 
   success ÄÄ particularly after dinner, when 
   all I had to do was put the lid on the 
   skillet and shove it into the fridge!  
                                                           
      Time to take the Odyssey back to the 
   library.  Dave listened to it in his car.  I 
   caught the passage where Polyphemus was 
   eating Odysseus' men, with realistic sound 
   effects, and decided that it wasn't music to 
   knit by.  It would go great around a 
   campfire.  
      Dave liked it so much that he looked up 
   Odds Bodkins' Web site to see whether he 
   could get the Iliad.  All the rest of the 
   recordings were Bodkins' own compositions, 
   however.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
       Yesterday I cut out a pair of pants 
   while waiting for the turkey to bake, 
   remembered to iron the tablecloth while 
   there was still time to do it, put the 
   quilting frame back into the attic, *and* 
   changed my shirt before dinner.  
      Today, without even a mess to clean up, 
   I looked at a pair of tights that want 
   patching before I ride again, thought about 
   cutting out a shirt, and decided where to 
   put the pants-parts to get them off the 
   ironing board while I press the pattern.  
      Still could press the pattern, I suppose.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      From a comment posted by Martha on 
   Lace Chat: "After we got home from the ER, 
   we went to a party . . .  ÄÄ and left when 
   the Lidocaine began to wear off."  
                                                           
      Mended my bicycle tights yesterday.  
   While I was at it, I added a pocket ripped 
   off the old shorts I cut up for patches, 
   then sewed a name tag on the waistband.  
   The tights aren't worth that much work, 
   but I don't know where I can buy a new 
   pair in my size.  
      Still dueless and dilatory today, but I 
   turned the heel on my stocking & am about 
   to pick up stitches; it should soon be in 
   shape to be worked on in public again.  
      And I took notes so that I can make 
   the other sock.  
      Unvented a new turn that works much 
   better with stranding than the heel I'd 
   been using.  May write it up for Knit U.  
                                                           
      It's after midnight.  
      Dutch, Nancy Hannmann's father, died 
   this afternoon.  Wake Tuesday and funeral 
   Wednesday.  
      Nancy is devastated, but doing what 
   must be done.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ29 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Evening: November has noticed the 
   date: it snowed briefly today, and the 
   apple room felt warm when I went to Indian 
   Ladder to return my bottles.  
      I was on the way to SuperValu, but 
   reflected that all I wanted was milk ÄÄ so 
   now I'll have two more bottles to take 
   back.  
      Didn't hear from Nancy today.  
                                                           
      After midnight again.  I cut out the 
   shirt, but was too stupid to cut out the 
   dress (even though it's much simpler than 
   the shirt), so I vegged out on Usenet 
   instead.  
      Must run out tomorrow to return my 
   tape, and buy a zipper for the shirt.  
      And empty the trash.  For once, I've 
   bagged up the papers ahead of time.  
                                                           
      "Self-indulgence is the folder in which 
   the Seven Deadly Sins are filed."  ÄÄ 
   Woody West 
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ30 November 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Should have looked at the fabric, at 
   least.  Went to cut it this morning, and 
   discovered that it has never been washed.  
      Too ravelly to wash without zig-zagging 
   the ends, Dave put everything that wasn't 
   his on the sewing machine when he cleaned 
   off the sewing-room dresser a few days 
   ago, and only a tiny fraction of the stuff 
   on the sewing machine belonged on the 
   dresser, so that took a while.  
      Helpful hint: I learned by accident 
   that basting is much easier to take out 
   when I use a double thread in the bobbin, 
   so I keep a double-wound bobbin for 
   chores like this ÄÄ and I always tie a knot 
   in the end when I take it out of the 
   machine, so the threads won't get out of 
   sync and have to be cut off the bobbin 
   with a seam ripper.  
      I may tell Dave not to buy new black 
   fabric for the firehouse door.  I measured 
   the stuff before washing, to see how much 
   it shrinks, and discovered that it's only 
   five yards thirty-four inches.  It's marked 
   eight yards, so I I measured it again, and 
   got 5' 33«".  The jacket takes three yards, 
   with three-quarter sleeves instead of the 
   long sleeves I plan to make, and the dress 
   will take four and a half, assuming that I 
   can fit the pockets in beside the front and 
   back pieces.  
      And I don't know what the fabric is 
   made of.  I took a sample to flame test 
   before zig-zagging it, but the snip isn't in 
   the dish where I left it.  Must have blown 
   it out when flopping the cloth around.  
      I know enough to pin things like that 
   to my shirt.  
                                                           
      We got a proper flurry this morning, 
   but it all melted.  I didn't take out the 
   papers, as it was snowing rapidly at the 
   time.  
                                                           
      Evening: as I was coming in after the 
   wake, I discovered how I came by that raw 
   knuckle: There's a sharp screwhead in the 
   brass ring around the doorknob.  
      And now the knuckle is really raw.  
                                                           
      The black fabric bled like a stuck pig 
   when I washed it, but Dave found the 
   drape for the firehouse door, so it's 
   hanging around unwanted.  On the line in 
   the cellar, at the moment.  
                                                           
      Returned the Odyssey tapes, and got 
   two golf novels for Dave and a Patrick 
   O'Brian for me.  People on my newsgroups 
   have been animatedly discussing O'Brian 
   even though he's off topic, so I thought I 
   should give him a try.  
      The frontispiece is captioned "The sails 
   of a square-rigged ship, hung out to dry 
   in a calm."  I wonder whether sails really 
   were aired in calm weather, or it was just 
   a way to remind the reader that they 
   seldom use all of them at once.  
      I don't recall anything about it in Two  
   Years Before the Mast, but that was forty 
   years ago at least ÄÄ I think I was still in 
   grade school.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ1 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      The black fabric flame-tested rayon.  I 
   thought it felt too soft and pleasant to be 
   polyester.  But I don't think rayon durable 
   enough to be worth making up ÄÄ it left a 
   lot of noil in the lint trap.  
      On the other hand, I wouldn't use it to 
   make anything that I'd wear very often, 
   and it came off the line looking ironed.  
      I'm looking for some thin black wool or 
   polywool to make the dress and jacket I 
   originally had in mind.  Thinking of making 
   a cotton housegown, since I've already 
   pressed and lengthened the pattern.  I've 
   already got more gowns than I got through 
   last summer with, but one does tend to 
   throw them into the washer fairly often.  
      The Ionian Mission is coming along 
   nicely.  Nothing is happening at all; the 
   most exciting event is that everyone is 
   getting horribly bored while blockading the 
   the French fleet.  And yet I continue to be 
   willing to turn the pages.  I see why 
   O'Brian's fans are so fervent.  
      Though I doubt that I'll go back for 
   the rest of the Jack Aubrey books.  
      If the weather is at all fit tomorrow, 
   Dave plans to play golf, just to say that he 
   played in December.  
      No breakfast tomorrow, since he has to 
   take the Buick to the shop in the morning, 
   and likes to walk to the diner while he's 
   waiting for it.  
      Didn't think to ask him why he has to 
   go back so soon.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ3 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Heard from Alice today; Don has had his 
   last radiation treatment, and is expected to 
   start feeling better.  
                                                           
      Dave is out playing golf again; he can't 
   pass up a fit day this late in the year.  
      He painted one side of the cellar door 
   this morning, and has the electric heater in 
   the garage helping the paint cure.  I hope 
   it stays warm long enough to do the other 
   side.  
                                                           
      According to Knit U, Elizabeth 
   Zimmermann has died, after a long illness.  
   She is one of the three mothers of 
   American knitting, and chief among them.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ4 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Cut out the long gown the day before 
   yesterday ÄÄ and found the black snip I'd 
   cut for flame testing; I've half a mind to 
   run the test again!  
      Started assembling the gown yesterday, 
   and made my first stitches in the shirt: 
   while the machine was set up to put 
   gathering threads in the gown sleeves, I 
   ran an easing thread in the shirt sleeves.  
      If I'm going to make a habit of making 
   long gowns, I'm going to need a cutting 
   table four inches longer.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ6 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Got to the stage of setting sleeves into 
   the long gown today.  Reminded myself that 
   the hardest part of making a french seam 
   is putting the wrong sides together for the 
   first pass, carefully laid the armhole out on 
   the ironing board with the wrong side up 
   ÄÄ and pinned the sleeve to it with its 
   wrong side up.  Which I didn't discover 
   until I checked to see how the gathers 
   were going to behave in a french seam.  
      So I picked out the stitches, and sewed 
   the sleeve to the other armhole perfectly 
   ÄÄ except for having the right sides 
   together.  I picked it out again, sewed it 
   properly, and very, very carefully sewed 
   the other sleeve in ÄÄ right sides together.  
      At that point, I took a nap.  
      I sure hope I don't pick out the wrong 
   seam!  
                                                           
      I found that I hadn't printed any 
   archive copies of the Banner since March, 
   so I've been printing a few pages every 
   day, and I'm now up to August.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ7 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Oops.  Forgot to print some today, and 
   Dave is in bed now, so I wouldn't want to 
   start up the printer.  
      Hemmed my slip with sleeves, planning 
   to wear it under my new skirt and 
   matching blouse Saturday.  Alas, when I 
   put the blouse on over it, it binds at the 
   armholes.  All my other sleeved slips are 
   made of T-shirt knit; I guess it makes a 
   difference.  
      Ah, well, I do have another slip, and 
   the new one is still a good summer dress.  
      Also got the sleeves set into my floral 
   gown, and finished top-stitching the mock 
   fell seams in my new pants, so they need 
   only waistband, hems, and hooks and eyes.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ11 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Now all the pants need is hooks and 
   eyes.  
      Good thing that I couldn't wear the new 
   slip ÄÄ the old one is warmer, and it was a 
   bit chilly at dinner.  
      Got the skirt out & discovered that I'd 
   forgotten the hooks and eyes, but spent 
   the morning making a matching purse, and 
   wore safety pins to the party.  (Didn't 
   show under the long shirt.)  
      I used a very simple drawstring-bag 
   design so it would work up quickly, but I 
   hadn't made that simple a bag before, so I 
   made mistakes and had to re-design it in 
   mid flight.  
      Awfully slow service, because of 
   another party in the other room, so they 
   had the disk jockey play between courses.  
   Finally gave up and put in my ear plugs, 
   after which it was much better.  By then 
   the only course left was chocolate mousse, 
   which one can eat with ear plugs in.  We 
   left soon after the mousse, and Dave is 
   asleep already.  
      Dave and four other people took Nancy 
   out for her birthday yesterday, Friday.  
   She seems to be recovering rapidly ÄÄ 
   taking it so hard that she had to leave the 
   funeral home before the ceremony seems to 
   have been the right way to do it; those 
   cultures that have the mourners follow the 
   coffin screeching and howling are on to 
   something.  
      Dave has returned his golf novels, but 
   I'm still working on the O'Brian.  Mean 
   while, I've checked out A Medieval Woman's  
   Mirror of Honor: The Treasury of the City  
   of Ladies and Two Under Par by Keven 
   Henkes, read by Jeff Woodan.  Dave 
   snitched the tape for listening in the car, 
   and says it isn't bad ÄÄ though he's 
   noticed that it's a juvenile.  He didn't see 
   "JF" in the call number of The Odyssey.  
   So I should assemble skirt, pants, hooks, 
   needle, etc. & listen to it Real Soon Now.  
      I've come to look for the Recorded 
   Books logo on tapes; everything from that 
   publisher has been well done, so far.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ15 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave says that "Two Under Par" builds 
   up and up, and then goes flat at the end.  
      Sudden thought while making lemon- 
   thyme tea: I sure hope I never have to 
   change the light bulb in the microwave, 
   because I haven't the foggiest idea how to 
   get at it.  
      Would you believe I'm still picking 
   fresh thyme to make my tea?  I may not 
   need the cupfull of dried leaves that I 
   froze.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ16 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Dave is eating breakfast while Blondie 
   feeds Baby Dumpling.  
      Which causes me to wonder: why do 
   folks go on and on and on about June 
   Cleaver's pearls, and never mention that 
   Blondie's apron (A) doesn't protect 
   anything and (B) takes a lot longer to iron 
   than the dress underneath?  
      I may do housework in my pearls yet; I 
   forgot to wear them to the NSVFD 
   Christmas party.  
      And I put a high neck on the dress 
   with pearls in mind.  
      Phoenix has, the last I noticed, a great 
   deal more of that black velveteen, and it 
   would make a lovely dress for the 
   installation banquet ÄÄ but I can't find 
   fabric anywhere to make a dress that isn't 
   strictly for catered parties.  
      This is akin to the SF writers' com 
   plaints about the midlist, and the knitters' 
   search for something all-wool, but not 
   extravagant.  America has a missing middle.  
      I have a lifetime supply of good plain 
   yarn ÄÄ but it was meant for weaving.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ17 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      At Thanksgiving, I bought fresh Shitaki 
   mushrooms by mistake for portobello, and 
   was disappointed in the gravy.  
      Still haven't tried fresh portobello, but 
   I've found that dried shitaki aren't at all 
   bad when I slice them thin and cook them 
   along with rice.  
      Lucky ran across my headlights when I 
   was pulling in with a load of groceries 
   tonight.  I've formed a theory as to why I 
   didn't notice the brown tinge in her fur 
   when she was hanging around the clothes 
   line in broad daylight last summer.  
      One reason I had to shop tonight is 
   that I forgot to buy crackers last time.  
   Well, I remembered, but I couldn't find 
   them in the bags; went back out to the car 
   and looked under things.  Finally read the 
   register tape ÄÄ which was quite long.  
   Somehow, they got out of the basket before 
   I went through the checkout.  
      Having been improvising for my bedtime 
   snack for days, I may have overdone it.  I 
   got cinnamon grahams, which I count as 
   cookies, fig bars, and three kinds of 
   crackers.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ18 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Telemarketers can learn; I can't 
   remember the last time I got one that 
   didn't immediately ask for Dave ÄÄ he 
   listens to them, and that gets their hopes 
   up.  
      But the AT&T guy (who settled for me 
   when he found out he couldn't get Dave) 
   said that he wasn't a telephone salesman, 
   he just wanted me to read an advertise 
   ment.  That isn't quite as insulting as the 
   ones who say "I'm not a telemarketer, I've 
   just called up to try to sell you 
   something."  
                                                           
      Kittens after my own heart!  
      I divided a serving of left-over oyster 
   stew between the cats in place of their 
   regular supper.  Dave just came in to 
   report: "They ate all the milk and stuff, 
   and left the oysters."  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ19 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      I finished A Medieval Woman's Mirror of  
   Honor today.  I don't think I'd have liked 
   living in fourteenth-century France; the 
   rich and the middle class were beset by 
   taxes and lawsuits, the poor slept on filth 
   and starved, and all those castles and city 
   walls weren't just for show.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ20 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Ptwang!  I've been suffering for months  
   because Free Agent had mysteriously 
   stopped responding to the arrow keys.  
   While reading the Agent manual tonight, I 
   discovered that the "scroll lock" had been 
   engaged.  Bumped that key again, and now 
   it works!  
      Reading the manual is more strenuous 
   than would appear, because it's on disk, 
   but optimized for paper.  Each page fills 
   up two or three screens, for example, and 
   cross-references are by paper page 
   number, which is eight less than the 
   number the reader assigns to the page.  
   Stuff is divided up to fit neatly on paper 
   pages, so one often has to clickety click in 
   the middle of a sentence to see the rest of 
   it -- at which point the first part 
   vanishes.  And the writer assumes that you 
   can leaf back to the illustration.  
      Luckily, I can tab over to a copy of 
   Free Agent, which looks a great deal like 
   the picture of Agent.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ21 December 1999ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Solstice tonight, and perigee, and a full 
   moon.  And thick overcast clouds.  
      So I went outside and found that I 
   could see the moon right through the 
   racing clouds, and the face on it much 
   more convincing than when you can see it 
   plain.  
                                                           
      Poor Frieda had no sooner gotten 
   comfortable than I finished The Ionian  
   Mission.  When someone referred to O'Brian 
   as a great novelist, I said, nope, nope, this 
   isn't a novel.  More like a biography, but 
   on further thought, I think it's a memoir.  
      Could be the middle out of a great long 
   novel, with so little of the over-all 
   structure visible as to make it read like 
   the Banner.  
      It's more like science fiction, in that it 
   presents an alien culture in the culture's 
   own terms.  Once, Aubrey was looking at a 
   crowd, and noted that several members of 
   his crew were among them.  ??, says I, he 
   couldn't recognize anyone at that distance, 
   and there's been a great deal of emphasis 
   placed on the ship being so big that he 
   knew hardly any of the men by sight.  
   Finally dawned on me that sailors in the 
   Royal Navy wear uniforms.  In a traditional 
   historical, or even a modern military novel, 
   we would be constantly having our noses 
   rubbed in the uniforms ÄÄ but uniforms 
   were not unusual in Aubrey's day; you 
   could recognize everyone by his clothing, 
   and a man didn't dress the way he did to 
   identify himself or in pursuit of fashion, 
   but because that was how people like him 
   dressed.  
      Only a few centuries earlier, Christine 
   (in Mirror of Honor) had a great deal to 
   say about the unsuitability of dressing 
   above your station.  
                                                           
   23 December 1999 
      ?? At the end of the addition, Jack 
   goes to bloody battle -- in his very best 
   dress uniform.  
      Over the protests of his valet, at least.  
      Because of Dave's review, I took "Two 
   Under Par" back to the library Monday, 
   and got "How the Irish Saved Civilization" 
   instead.  Very good tape, so far.  I hadn't 
   known that the Roman tax collectors were a 
   hereditary class ÄÄ like the untouchables 
   in India, those born into the caste had no 
   hope ÄÄ and they were hard on the people 
   under them because they were desperate.  
      I'm always complaining of America's 
   missing middle.  Chillingly, Mr. Cahill 
   attributes the fall of the Roman Empire to 
   its missing middle.  
      We have no guarantee we'll see our 
   tricentennial.  
      And I suspect the dark ages would last 
   just as long, despite the breakneck pace of 
   modern life.  
                                                           
      Monday's shopping trip was a 
   comedy of errors.  I set out to go 
   to Alfred's to buy a zipper, and 
   exchange my tape on the way.  But at 
   the last minute I remembered that I 
   was almost out of black cotton 
   thread, and decided to go to Fountain O' 
   Fabrics instead, since Alfred doesn't carry 
   the kind of thread I wanted.  
      So I kept straight instead of turning 
   onto Western.  As I approached Central, I 
   said wahait a minute, Fountain O' Fabrics is 
   just past Fuller, not just past New Karner.  
   Ah, well, it's about the same distance 
   whether I go down Western or Central.  
   But as long as I'm down this way, why not 
   keep straight here too, and check out 
   Flying Geese.  
      Flying Geese, it turned out, was named 
   after the quilt block.  They have every 
   thing imaginable for quilting, piecing, and 
   appliqu‚, but no zippers.  I bought a spool 
   of red cotton and two large spools of black 
   ÄÄone would have been enough, considering 
   that I'd planned to buy only two of the 
   small spools.  
      Turning left out of the shopping center 
   was theoretically allowed, but not really a 
   serious option.  
      I decided to come back by way of Sand 
   Creek.  Promptly passed Vly Road, which 
   would have brought me back quicker, but 
   an unexpected right turn was even less in 
   the cards than a premeditated left turn.  
   But for a change Sand Creek was where I 
   thought it was, and I followed it to Wolf 
   ÄÄ where I turned left instead of right, 
   and pretty soon realized that I was on my 
   way to the airport.  
      Managed to turn around, with the aid 
   of a large parking lot that had its own 
   traffic light, went back to Central, 
   carefully turned left ÄÄ and had passed 
   Fuller before I realized that Fountain O' 
   Fabrics was near Old Karner, the spot I'd 
   been aiming for in the first place.  Started 
   looking for a way to avoid going downtown 
   & finally found Interstate Avenue.  Not 
   exactly my old haunts, but I vaguely 
   remembered it as a street that went 
   someplace.  When it came out on Railroad, I 
   knew where I was.  It would have been 
   easy to follow Fuller back to Central, but it 
   was shorter to Alfred's, and I had my 
   thread now.  
      But I'd probably have found a better 
   zipper at Fountain O' Fabrics; the one I 
   bought is heavy enough for a jacket, and I 
   meant to put it on a shirt.  (Haven't 
   touched said shirt, despite the desperate 
   dash to get a zipper soon enough to finish 
   it for Christmas.)  
      Also found five and a half yards of 
   charcoal crepe, which measures five and a 
   third now that it's been washed and steam- 
   ironed, on the $3.88 table.  It was marked 
   100% wool, it looked like wool, it felt like 
   wool, it smelt like wool.  But when I draped 
   it over my arm to carry it, it felt cold on 
   my skin.  That thick a pile of pure wool 
   would have felt like a live animal.  
      I asked the clerk while I was checking 
   out, and she said "Oh, yes, we had a 
   discussion about that when it came in."  
      There's something in it that bubbles 
   when it burns, and there's enough of it to 
   make the cloth burn with enthusiasm.  But 
   not enough to make it stick to the skin, I 
   think, and there is definitely wool too.  
      I think the mystery fiber is nylon; it's 
   slick and stretchy when I draw a thread.  
      Or, rather, when I try to draw a 
   thread.  I should have straightened the 
   ends before I washed it.  
      I've got some more thinking to do.  I 
   want the shirt of the outfit to both button 
   up and lie open like lapels, but you can't 
   pad-stitch a roll into a single layer of 
   fabric, so the "lapels" will have to be held 
   open with snaps or buttons or something, 
   and those will show when it's buttoned up, 
   and the buttoned-up fasteners will show 
   their wrong sides when the neck is open.  
      I may settle for a neck that is snapped 
   open all the time; I doubt very much that 
   I'll be wanting to wear this shirt without 
   another shirt under it.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ26 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Still haven't put a stitch into the blue- 
   and-white shirt.  Did soak the zipper, so I 
   can install it any time.  (If I remember 
   where I put it.)  
      Christmas started out unpromisingly: 
   I had to take care of some white clothes 
   that I put in to soak Thursday and forgot 
   to wash Friday; I had used up the old 
   eggs baking brownies ÄÄ the new dozen 
   were out in the car, frozen solid; and I cut 
   my finger opening the cranberry jelly.  
      But all went well from there.  After we 
   feasted on duck and all the trimmings, I 
   took a nap, then we went to a gathering at 
   Nancy's father's house for deserts.  The 
   family had gathered for dinner at Dad's 
   one last time, and some other friends were 
   there.  
                                                           
      Repaired my fuzzy-wool pants this 
   morning, and sewed the last hook on my 
   cotton-herringbone pants.  The herringbone 
   isn't nearly as loud as I'd feared; from a 
   little distance, the stripes are almost 
   subtle.  
      Also managed to straighten one end of 
   the crepe, by dint of drawing three or 
   four threads, then holding it up to the 
   window while I cut.  It's easy to draw a 
   thread because of the nylon, but nearly 
   impossible to find the end of one that 
   breaks.  I still have some thinking to do 
   before I cut out, as there will be enough 
   for a vest or something ÄÄ almost certainly 
   "or something" ÄÄ besides the shirt and 
   pants.  
      I was surprised that the original edge 
   was nearly straight; before washing, it was 
   so wavy that I was sure I'd have to cut 
   half a foot off each end.  
                                                           
      We had creamed hard-boiled eggs for 
   breakfast this morning ÄÄ with a dash of 
   mushroom gravy, and the buttered bits of 
   hot dog I'd meant to scramble into Dave's 
   egg on Christmas morning.  I expect to be 
   serving a lot of hard-boiled egg dishes in 
   the next few days!  I brought a big pot of 
   water to the boil before putting them in, 
   hoping that the cracks would seal as fast 
   as the whites thawed, and only one egg 
   leaked.  
      I bought a Portobello mushroom, and 
   put the stem into the dressing and the cap 
   into the gravy.  Good, but no better than 
   common white mushrooms at half the price, 
   and the size makes them awkward for a 
   small family.  
      I looked for porcini mushrooms in the 
   fancy dry foods display, but didn't find 
   any.  
                                                           
      Mostly lazed about in the afternoon, but 
   I got a start on sewing hooks and eyes on 
   my black-and-gold skirt, while listening to 
   some more of "How the Irish Saved 
   Civilization".  We're about through the 
   biography of St. Patrick now, with a side 
   and a half of tape left.  I must remember 
   to show it to the reference librarian and 
   ask whether there is more of the same.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ27 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      If Dave notices the bike tracks leaving 
   and returning to the garage, he's going to 
   be disappointed that there still aren't any 
   raw eggs in the house.  
      By the time I suited up after my nap, 
   it was nearly a quarter past three.  With 
   sunset at 4:29 and a fifteen-minute trip 
   each way, I had fifteen minutes to shop 
   and drop off my book, which seemed ample 
   considering that I have good lights in case 
   of error.  But when the icy wind hit me on 
   the face as I rode out, I decided that I 
   didn't want to push sunset, so I returned 
   The Ionian Mission, took a quick glance at 
   the non-fiction adult tapes, and sprinted 
   home again.  When I returned at 4:10, the 
   sun was behind the mountain, and it was 
   about as late as I care to be out in 
   twenty-degree weather.  
      And the left front tire on my Jeep, I 
   just noticed, is a bit soft.  I think it leaks.  
      I'm more impressed with my bike 
   handling than I used to be, and less 
   impressed with my wisdom.  Instead of 
   getting off and walking after I turned into 
   the beaten-clear stem of the driveway, I 
   rode to the garage.  Hit a patch of ice 
   while turning, and didn't go down!  The 
   track of my front wheel cuts an interesting 
   dido, while the back wheel serenely 
   followed the originally-intended curve.  
      Oh, yeah, we got our first thin film of 
   winter snow last night.  I swept the step, 
   walk, and both cars wearing indoor 
   clothing before I went out for the paper, 
   which is why the chill of the evening 
   caught me by surprise.  There's still snow 
   among the clumps of grass, and the 
   newspaper says we might get another film 
   on Wednesday.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ28 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      We got another film of snow last night.  
   I swept in my shirtsleeves again, when it 
   was at least five degrees colder than when 
   I came home yesterday.  
      A ten-mile-an-hour wind matters.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ29 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      Looked out the window this morning 
   and said,"Well, we didn't get a film of snow 
   last night.  
      Then I realized that the car windows 
   hadn't been speckled yesterday evening.  
   Flakes were in the air when I went out for 
   the paper, but nothing came of it.  
      Phoenix.com is back from Christmas 
   vacation ÄÄ two pure wools on sale, less 
   than $3.00/yd if I recall correctly.  One is 
   tropical weight ÄÄ and a plaid so big that 
   you don't see a full repeat in the swatch.  
   Jeanie or Laura could carry it off, but I'd 
   look like a hippopotamus in plaid slacks.  
   The "gray check" has a small repeat, only 
   a lighter-gray thread every few threads in 
   each direction, but the contrast is greater 
   and the fabric is thicker.  
      I suppose I'll regret not buying twenty 
   yards before it's all sold.  
                                                           
   ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ31 December 1999 ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ 
      As we sort out stuff, now and again I 
   find something old that I wrote with my 
   favorite Expresso pen ÄÄ and it has faded 
   alarmingly.  I don't think I ever hand- 
   write anything but signatures, checks, and 
   disk labels, though.  And the disk itself 
   will fade before the writing disappears 
   altogether.  
      Found my recipe cards, and was 
   surprised that there were so few.  Even 
   leaving in a thick wad of clippings of some 
   sort that had gotten into the box, they fit 
   into a #6 envelope.  I was sure I'd filled 
   half the box.  Mom's box was, if I recall, 
   packed tight.  
      Perhaps these were the ones I picked 
   out to copy into my loose-leaf notebook.  
      Tip: you can make a nice flat notebook 
   that stacks neatly in a drawer, yet opens 
   flat for reading, by lacing the pages 
   together with cord elastic.  But the elastic 
   has to be replaced every few years.  
      And you'd better use tough paper.  
      I mean to sweep the office again ÄÄ it 
   gets pretty thick with dust because it is 
   so hard to gain access to the floor ÄÄ but 
   mostly I'm as ready for my party tomorrow 
   as I'm going to be.  I've got the dry 
   ingredients for the cocoa mixed in a pot, 
   and I've made a cup of cinnamon sugar and 
   washed an Adolph's bottle for those who 
   like to sprinkle it.  I want the bottle to air 
   overnight before I put sugar in it.  I'm 
   also putting out a soup plate of sugar for 
   us peasants.  
      I even put a fresh bottle of water on 
   the bike, though I mean to change it for 
   fresher ÄÄ and warmer ÄÄ water before 
   rolling out.  
      Rather a pity nobody plans to come.  
   But we got the mantel sorted and scrubbed 
   this morning, and Dave hauled some stuff 
   out to the shed.  I even sorted some of the 
   "to be taken care of immediately" papers 
   before stacking them back onto the printer.  
   Found Christmas cards from two years ago.  
      So I think I'll spend the rest of the 
   evening closing out the Banner.