A toast to Deb, the founder of the mystery

Last night a text from Deb: Salpiglosis! Now why didn't we think of that? She bought the seeds and planted them last year. Here they are, a handful from Google:

And here are mine. Each stem may be producing multi colors, but I won't know that for a day or so.

And I still have a zinnia coming along. At least I think it's a zinnia.

My pot of ranunculus went belly up, all ten of them:

I stopped at the nursery to buy a replacement, and learned they are available first thing in the season (when they were not open!). I asked for a Gerbera daisy instead. I have a red one, to put in this pot tomorrow. I'll try hard not to disturb the ranunculus bulbs doing it.

And I stopped at the dollar store to restock my Kleenex.They had none. Working my way out, avoiding two busy preschool age girls, I dodged down an empty aisle and saw Zinnia's! So I picked up a plastic pot, too.

And came home and made supper. It was a long day.

A self contained and self sustaining ecosystem

It's not what I do but how I think and talk about myself that is my definition. Perhaps I'm just the person behind the curtain. Or not.

I lose track of time easily; when and where it happened can get murky. Especially since, as Ellen pointed out, it seems as if everything is happening again, except cards with the Methodists. My major orientation remains missing.

Sometimes I have a bad leg night, with too much pain and too little sleep. I must say, those mizerble water pills sure do a job, even at the substantially reduced dose of 10 mg twice a day. I've lost three pounds, and it's not because I cut out the crostata. I even have two more at the ready, in the freezer. It occurred to me that raspberries on sale could easily wait for me in a puddle of sugar, cornstarch and lemon juice, in the freezer.

Anyway, there was a night with no sleep recently, and this morning I turned off the alarm and slept until past ten. I found and cleaned up another cat upchuck of excess hair. I know he won't miss the hair.

Lately his "end of the bed" routine has been the complete extreme:

After brunch this morning, I wandered out to the car. My plan for the day was a "dry run" to 224 West Exchange Street, where the vascular test will be conducted in mid July. Downtown Akron is undergoing the Big Dig these last couple of years.

Downtown Akron is consumed by several hospitals, a couple of universities and county government, all of whom maintain their version of complex and confusing campuses. Periodically county steps up and broadcasts money and rearranges the streets and roads. It was beginning to happen at the end of the time Laura was seeing Children's Hospital folks, and I could always drive out of any mess they threw at me, but two years later, better go look.

I've paid close attention to my pots and baskets this past week. It has rained so much my major obligation has been to cull blossoms. My yard of weeds is in great form, too, and I looked over the deck and took some shots of them:

I've kept close track of the "lettuce" accompaniment to the zinnia. Several days ago it showed the promise of a blossom, and today it has produced.

Who knows what this is? Its leaves are thin and flimsy. It looks like a ditch weed, except apparently its seeds were included with zinnia seeds by a dear and trusted seed collecting friend.

So, back to the self contained and self sustaining system of the title, I started the car and headed for 224 West Exchange. I found it, and found I can park there, conveniently. On the way down I admired the fine art put on old buildings by new and young coffee, beer and film entrepreneurs. I'd forgotten this fine stuff since the days of travelling several times a week with Laura. Parking is easy and so are pictures, that some day I may go park by the Sojurner Truth building and take pictures.

On the way home I filled the gas tank, and taking care to touch only the soon to be sterilized ecosystem of the car interior, I finished driving home. To my surprise, a man I did not know was mowing my weeds. I started across the street to ask Larry who is this man, but good old Larry was already on my side, and flagging down a new Dan, for introductions. 

This Dan said he was already hot and sweaty from two other yards and so he tackled mine, too. I thanked him and shook his hand. I must tell you, it's been so long, it felt just fine. Isn't it a lovely day!

And then I came in and washed my hands.

The End

Synopsis

I had a busy week.

Ha ha.

I saw the vascular doctor last Tuesday. I was informed of a vascular problem back, maybe two thousand and one, or two. For years I saw a vascular specialist, who beleaguered me about smoking. I ignored most of his direction. I was still working, weaving, driving several thousand miles a year. Smoking was part of the routine.

Then the vascular doctor disappeared. I turned my veins over to my heart doctor, who listened to my pulses once or twice a year, and told me to quit smoking. I actually did that, eleven years ago.

The new fellow and I got along well; I told him the story, and his take on it is, this is where that history lands you, and let's see what we can do from here. His office scheduled a venous ultrasound; he advised me to find zippered compression stockings...for both legs, and we spent an amusing five minutes notifying all my doctors of the visit. My little tweek to my primary who couldn't be bothered.

Then I go my hair cut. Second time since I could! I think I left half of it behind.

Wednesday the cat went to the vet, to bring his shots up to date so he can go to the barber in a week and get a Marine trim. I was super impressed with the protocol at the doctor's office. Nothing but masks! My hair dresser's shop was the same; all operators and all customers in masks.

I suppose I should have expected the same at the vet. They are a medical office, for crying out loud. I pulled in:

The office staff came out and asked me if I had concerns about Toby. Then the vet came out and asked me the same. I said, again, he's gained weight; is he OK? The vet took him away and brought him back shortly. He's fine, his vaccinations are current, and yes, he's gained more than a pound, so take off a layer of kibble from the scoop.

When he has his hair cut next week, I wonder how much weight he will loose.

On Thursday I visited the tall, overgrown kid ortho who set my broken leg a couple of years ago. I needed cortisone shots in my knees again. It's been a year! In chatting he said in the worst of the epidemic, he'd done no surgery for three entire months! "Did they pay you?" I inquired facetiously, and he was so startled he almost forgot to push the syringe. Just wanted to remind him a lot of people weren't so fortunate.

And today I went grocery shopping and then to lunch with Cathy at the delicatessen she found. 

The flowers are good; it has rained four days this week, and more to come.

And that's been my week.

Do internet trolls own us now?

Something I've never done before, I'm at the computer with crackers and cheese and coffee. Look at that, the 3 c's. The vascular doc appointment actually is tomorrow, and my sister is taking me. If I like it, I'll go back and use the valet parking. 

I thought I'd sneak a peek at the news before I got on blogger to ask you all a question. My take on the news is Holey Moley. A Mega Trump Rally to a pretty empty stadium! I love the column blaming it on Korean Boy Band aficionados ordering an extra million tickets and prompting accommodations for overflow.

But in my heart I think it was just damn poor planning on the ground by the planning committee. How I hope that Covid19 concerns knocked a zero off the attendance. Six thousand don't fill a sixty thousand capacity stadium. 6,000. 60,000. Ninety percent no-shows.

I did have a question about that part of the country to throw out to you.

Back in the eighties or nineties, I read a book I believe was this: an autobiography of a hardscrabble upbringing of a boy in the difficult plains of west Texas. The father of the boy was dead, the mother attempting to keep together the family. The mother remarried and a farm becomes involved. I believe there was a train ride to the farm. 

I lent the book to someone because there was a reference to Sears and Roebuck prefab homes and to how much prairie families bought from the catalog. The book never came back.

I recently snapped up a copy of Russell Baker, Growing Up. That was the book! I just knew! Well, it's not. I've read Russell Baker, and it's about a boy who lost his father in the same time frame. I remembered the book when I read it again. I even bought another Russell Baker, Good Times. I've probably read it already, too, but no matter.

In the meantime, I have such a desire to read this missing book again. To at least know what it's about. On the chance it's Horton Foote, I ordered it. I seem to be keeping the publishing industry solvent! But if you have a better idea, please let me know.

Do you need rain? We're in for four days of it, between now and next Saturday. I will be lugging the cat to the vet on Wednesday, when it may not rain so much. Sort of like Covid in people, cats cannot go where there are other cats unless their current state of health is certified. And, Toby has an appointment for a crew cut next week, but not unless he's certified.

Job done

Today I finished the aqua; I hemmed the stack of towels off the loom.

I'm becoming quite the marketing pro the last couple of runs:

Collar the cleanup! Not bad, eh? Quite a nice color, too.

And when this is all over, I will know how to fold a towel into every napkin shape I want.

My right leg has hurt for the last several weeks. After the futile trip to my primary care and the extraordinary dose of the "water pill", I saw my nephrologist. He straightened out the dose toot suite, but threw up his hands at the pain. He doesn't do vascular! 

I'd made the vascular appointment some time back, and now it's come up on Monday. I do hope he has the cure.