What to do, what to do

Administration officials see Trump as incapable of coherent thought and rational action. World leaders agree, and despair or seize the advantage of the dysfunction of this country. Leaders of his party continue to patch the dyke. Affairs are shoved back to some clown version of normal on a daily basis. It’s a charade. There is no normal.

This country can impeach, or invoke the 25^th amendment. Or, continue to do nothing, and wait to rectify the implosion.

In the meantime, I took the ball peen hammer that must have been my dad’s, and walked around the house, rectifying the hinges that have annoyed me for several months.

The hammer had to be heavy enough to get the job done, but not so big as to hit woodwork. I’m glad this was in the basket of tools scavenged from the old house. I wish I had the knuckle busters that came from my Mentor house, and can grip and rip off any one of those damn sealed on foil or plastic bottle or can covers. Oh, well.

I hope Laura hangs on to the tools. She’s been taught to appreciate and use them. Well, appreciate is interesting. First she has to try her way, then take the tool from me and use it. Thank you all for Kahn Academy; she wouldn’t hear it from me, but you all convinced her.

Here’s a fun look around. My Uncle Hank repaired the Westclox Big Ben for me to take to college in 1961. I used it, probably until the nineties, when Uncle Hank couldn’t take care of it any more.

Who knows how old that ball peen is. Perhaps from the thirties, when my dad bought tools, not food. I wove the scarf on the table in the early eighties, on the warp my Aunt Laura left on the little LeClerc four harness counterbalance loom.

My Grandma Rolf made the vase in her last year of school, eighth grade. She was fifteen, and decided algebra was enough math for her. She went to work at Higbees’, downtown Cleveland.

I crocheted the little pineapple doily for her, and got the vase and the doily back as a package, when she went to a nursing home. I think everything here just will go to auction someday, probably excepting the tools.

So, the hinge pins are resolved and I’m off to spend the rest of the day on my new book, Prairie Fires. It will help me forget the YA novel assigned for book club in January.