Saturday, April 4, 2020

Beautiful, beautiful day

I got up determined to do something on such a beautiful day! I had ranuculus bulbs to plant and zinnia seeds to plant. I had a snow shovel to put in the shed and potting soil and a trowel to get out. And most of all a trip to the mail box with my new ready tripper.

I moved pots, planted seeds and bulbs and took a fifteen minute power nap before Cathy came up the street to walk with me to the mail box.



I ordered hiking poles to try walking with. I hiked with them from one end of the trailer to the other and back again with no mishaps. But I wanted company on my first trip solo, and Cathy was happy to go. She walks every day that she can, and was happy for a new walking companion. I told her we'd see.

So off we went at noon, to the mail boxes, Cathy aghast at all the ceramic pots and bags of dirt I'd shoved around all morning. Me, too, but I slung the New Yorker bag over my shoulder. grasped my poles and off we went.

The trip up was totally uneventful, and Cathy was impressed. We've walked places together, like into the movie lobby or down to the seats, and she's been concerned. This time it was "Damn, girl, look at you!" 

There was one trick spot on the way home. Beginning at the house before mine, the road drops pretty fast. I lost my pole gait, and merely shuffled and hung on. That will take some practice. But I made it. I figured it was 570 feet to the mail boxes, so that was two tenths of a mile round trip. 

Not bad for the first really sustained effort since I broke my leg, almost two years ago.  We agreed to go again tomorrow.

When I came in, there was a surprise box in my mail bag. A box of marzipan and a birthday card from Ann. The card is too clever, and the marzipan too good. I texted her a thank you and she responded it came back with her from England, especially for the marzipan addict, and would have been closer to my birthday but for the damn two week quarantine.



I made waffles for supper, and had the pretty red strawberry in the corner for dessert. I restrained myself. I had only three marzipan's today. Maybe I can make them last three more days.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Throw it against the wall, see if it sticks

I went out today, to the post office and the drug store drive through, to pick up a prescription. I could have gone to the grocery store for more greens and to the gas station to fill up. But some friends are using all frozen veggies and the gas tank just went below a half. 

Things change every day, for better or worse. I have plenty of frozen vegetables on hand, so the gas tank can just wait.

It was so good to go outdoors and do more than stand on the porch, breathing in and out and listening to the deafening silence. I could use the post office in the Falls; it's much closer. But I always go to the one in Peninsula. It's the one I used for years, for the township, and it feels right.

The heron was at the pond on Truxel. It was between the pond and the road.  Or, me and the pond, from its point of view. I drove to the end, turned around and slowly approached, pulling off the road. And it lifted its great wings and flew down toward the river. I pulled into the Boy Scout camp to turn around, and started slowly for the post office, scanning, scanning the pond.

And there it was, at the end of the pond. Another U-turn at the end of the road and the slow approach to the heron. As my tires sounded on gravel, up went the wings. I swear, they take off on that first graceful flap. It sailed to the head of the pond. I slowly approached. Whoooosh, it was gone. The last U-turn and off to the post office.

I chose Quick Road to drive up from the valley, and stopped at the cross country trail head to take a look. 


Away in the distance, two tiny walkers. I turned to take a picture


and when I looked back, maybe the same couple coming back. Nah.

I stopped for the mail, and had a letter from my youngest daughter. 


She sent me two masks she made. I am so pleased to have them. My sister made the yellow mask, on top, and I haven't had opportunity to wash it between wearings. So, I washed all three, because Shelly's were impregnated with her perfume, and it gave me a headache on testing it.


Then some weaving, and now it's time for supper. Another day in the books. Booooring.

Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Today's calendar

Every morning I look at my Google calendar. Once I figured it out, it's been lovely to have. I can pull it out and register appointments, make notes on things to do on the day to do them and so on and on and on.

Today, thanks to everything Google knows, it said Happy Birthday. It's right next to April 1, on which I have written Buy Zinnia seeds.  That could be a problem.

Otherwise it has been the same as any birthday in the last decade. My friends called and said Happy Birthday. We promised to have the celebratory lunch out when restaurants opened again.

My sister called, first thing. One daughter texted, one called. Ann called while I was falling asleep over bouts. I happily set that aside, and we chatted an hour away. Her kennel is a non-essential in this new world. 

When I sat down today to tie the ends together, there were six bouts to go. Now there are three. Hooray and hallelujah, I knew I'd be getting through ya! Another day will do it. I hope it's tomorrow.

I really feel less than cheerful today. I turned on the radio as I began tying on, and tuned in to the governor's daily Covid-19 update.  Ohio has fifty five deaths so far, ages from one to ninety nine. 

The strict regulations taken by Ohio have flattened the curve, but we have not faced the top of our bell yet. Two people have died in my least populated urban county. 

I know what will happen to areas that have not made guide lines, and worst of all, to the people who consider this a joke, and an inconvenience to be circumvented. There are far too many displaced high school and college students still gathering and looking for ways to pass their time socially and together.


Today USPS brought me a present from myself, a wall pocket by Marty Frolick, Old Patagonia Pottery.  I no longer see Marty at shows, but thanks to EBay magic, I see his work from time to time. I carefully selected a hook that would fit the pot, carefully nailed it into the wall and carefully hung the wall pocket, with the flags from my friend Hilary Cooper, Crazy as a Loom.


Pretty, isn't it! Today was not warm enough to sit outside to plant ranuculus, but their day will come, though not before the weekend, or even next week.

Monday, March 30, 2020

Bizzy, bizzy

Another short essay of little to nothing. I woke up determined to go shopping, and I did. After a short shower and a long breakfast, I was ready, and left before 10:30.



I decided to wear my mask all the time, out and about. My selfie ability has not improved.

The grocery store expedition was fascinating. Remember, Kreiger's is a grocery store. No paper products to be out of. Of my entire list, I had to substitute yellow split peas for green, and they were out of yeast. It's time to relearn sourdough. Or not.

There was little traffic in the store, but it did fill up to the usual volume before I left. Plexiglass dividers have been installed at the counters. I walked from aisle six to aisle one to find a cashier with no customers. I should have realized she always has few to no one checking out because she is such a grump.

I had bags, but she would not load them. It is difficult to load bags in the tiny space allotted, but I kept at it. The Grump several times informed me they had plastic she could use, and I simply smiled and said "No, thank you." 

Another customer came behind me and the Grump checked him out. She did a nice job of segregating our purchases and packing his while I finished mine. We finished simultaneously.



I came home with six bags. I only bought for two weeks, but more bags are lighter to lift.



This is all it amounted to. Oh, and I remember, the big plastic boxes of packaged spinach were not there. The whole section of prepared greens was mighty slim. I forgot to go back to the fresh vegetable section to find spinach and chard. There were no loose carrots this week, either.


I was back from shopping and the post office shortly after noon, but putting away all the groceries and making a loaf of bread took the rest of the stuffing out of me. 

I had a surprise package when I came in. I'd forgot all about the delayed shipment of ranuculus. 



They were back ordered from my original order of spring bulbs because, don't you know, they cannot be planted until spring.



That broader green leaf in the center probably is anemone. I wonder if carefully cutting away the brown tip of that very first bulb, by the black pole, will help it. It took a hit from freezing temps, freezing rain and freezing snow.



I hope this pot blooms paper narcissus. There are so many coming up. 

Sometime this week I'll plant up the ranuculus for pig to enjoy. It's way too early to put up mandevilla. You may need to keep reminding me.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

A perfect weaving metaphor

Weaving has not been mentioned for a couple of days because it has been ignored. Winding the warp onto the back beam is the most strenuous and occasionally painful part of the job. I am pleased with the last warp, well wound.


Even and tight. You could bounce GI dimes from it. I walked off, abandoned it. That was last Wednesday.  No amount of boredom relief could get me back to the warp.

I last went grocery shopping the third of March. We weren't talking Corona virus then, except in passing. I went to the store with the personal challenge of shopping for a month, for no reason except to see if I could do it. Purchase carefully and eat for a month. I  wasn't inventing ways to evade boredom. 

The third of April is next week, and I will go grocery shopping. I have been out and about a bit, made some observations, drawn some conclusions. I won't go shopping at 7:30 in the morning, when all those old people are in there. Bless their hearts and all that, I'll still go when I normally do, after breakfast. Say ten in the morning.

And, I will not shop for a month. I can imagine being accused of hoarding. If it's even there. Beside, shopping is something to do to take a chunk off boredom.

Yesterday I set myself two tasks for today. I accomplished the first and headed down to the studio to begin tying the new warp to the old. As I passed the cat, and lightening split the sky. He literally 


evaporated, and I found him, hours later, under the bed. 


It was a striking show of nature, lasting a few hours. Hail fell a couple of times, and the thunder rumbled and rolled for hours.


Perfect weather to continue working on the loom. I pulled over the first of the old warp and began.


All these years later, I've figured out, tying on a new warp is identical to being quarantined. Boring. I made it through two of eleven bouts, constantly fighting sleep.


That's it, that's all I got done. I took a look around for Mr. Cat, to no avail. I put the recliner back and took a nap for two hours. Then I woke up and had supper. That's never boring.