You Can't Make This Stuff Up

 It's been an "interesting" few days.

On my April 24 post - a month ago today - I had a list of stuff that was bugging me.  I've dealt with it.  The jeep has been sold and taken away (that still hurts, even though it went to the best possible home where it will get the care I didn't give it).  I did the paperwork for the trailer and handed it over to Rik.  I got the maintenance done on the car in places other than where I went for the previous 24 years.  I put on my new hubcaps.

And I got my Reclast infusion for my osteoporosis on Wednesday (4 days ago).  I was nervous - a likely side effect was flu-like symptoms, maybe with nausea and/or headache.  The infusion itself was easy - it took about an hour, but the needle they used was tiny, and I was in a comfortable recliner in a private room.  Then I beat feet home so that I wouldn't be driving if those side effects hit.

Which they didn't - at first.  I was fine that afternoon and evening.  I was fine when I went to bed. Then I woke up at 2:00 a.m. . . . . .
"Flu-like symptoms" can best be described as "run over by a bus filled with a little league team on a sugar high who all jump out to beat the crap out of you with their little baseball bats."  I was sweating, I was shivering, I hurt all over.  About all one can do at that point is get up, walk around, take Tylenol, make a cup of tea, curl up on the couch, and turn on the TV.  Up popped "You might like this movie."  It showed a guy standing in front of an ancient crumbling mansion so what the heck - I hit play.

2:30 in the morning, sick, fevered, I watched this guy check in, get lost, the hotel is a big labyrinth filled with strange people (and occasionally a marching band in the hallway), and no one knows the way out.  There is a salon with an aging grande Dame and her retinue, and he gets shoved into helping out in the kitchen where cooks have to apprentice for 7 years separating eggs before moving on to be allowed to whisk them.  No one has been outside of the hotel for years.  He notices that the hotel is shrinking - the hallways are getting narrower.  Two little old ladies are moving their furniture to the hallway because it doesn't fit in the rooms any more.  Finally the crowds are mobbing him, but he finally gets rescued by the giant squid that's living in the walls of the hotel.

I fall asleep wondering what the heck was in that infusion - or maybe how bad was that fever?  Later that afternoon, I go back and check.  The movie is real.

I was really sick (I kept telling myself that I wasn't sick, just having a reaction, but I lost that argument) Thursday (I was seriously wondering if the chickens wouldn't mind if they didn't get let out of their coop or fed - but I was able to get out there).  Thursday night was a little rough, but Friday I was feeling better and I was able to go to work on Saturday.  I figured I could get a decent night's sleep on Saturday and be all caught up.

The best laid schemes of mice and men . . . .

A storm rolled in Saturday night - not complaining, as we need the rain.  The power went off around 10:00 p.m.  It was totally black in the house (Bob used to use the phrase "darker than three feet up a bull's butt" but I'm not sure if he ever actually checked that out).  Obviously, I went to bed.  It took me awhile to get to sleep; I'm usually antsy about sleeping during a power outage because I know I'm going to be snapped awake when it comes back on.  But I finally slept for a couple of hours.  I remember the tag end of a dream - it might have been a nightmare for some people but it's a fairly ordinary occurrence for me - I was going to pick up some eggs from the nest box and saw that there was a snake in it.  I stepped back, and then I was enveloped in darkness.
It took a few minutes for me to realize that I had waken up and the power was still out.  I got up to go to the bathroom and heard/saw a flash!crack! and then a FLASH!BOOM! as a transformer blew somewhere.

I tried to go back to sleep.  I had the windows open but it was still stuffy (obviously no fans running).  The owls were being noisy outside the window.  The hooting is pleasant, but barred owls also make this wild squawking monkey noise and seriously guys, can't you take it a little farther out in the woods?  I'm starting to drift when the room is flooded with bright white light - from the outside.  First panicked thought was "FIRE!" but it was white, not orange, and while it was moving, it wasn't flickering.  Second thought was "aliens are landing."  I got up and looked out the window.  The electric company truck had come up my drive and was using a searchlight to follow and check the power lines.

By now it's after 3:00 a.m. and for some reason I'm wide awake.  Now that the searchlight is gone, I'm also in the pitch dark, which is rather boring.  I decide to read a bit.  The Kindle has a light, but having the screen as the only light is a good way to hurt your eyeballs.  I grab my headlamp with the LED strip light on it - it gives a soft general glow.  It has also decided that it needs to be charged.

Now I'm wide awake and quite annoyed.  My little electric spinning wheel has a battery pack.  I grab that, and open the drawer that has the charging cords.
Goddess as my witness, I label cords when I get a new device, because the small plugs seem to be different for each thing.  At 3:30 in the morning, nothing seems to be labeled, so I'm peering into little sockets with a flashlight, comparing it to the tiny plugs, finally find one that fits and I'm able to plug in my headlamp and read my damned book for awhile.

After that I sleep for a couple of hours and wake up to the power still off.  I check the local FB page on my phone - post to see if anyone else has power, and apparently *everybody* else has power.  Someone posted the outage made that showed that only two household were still without power (I don't know who the other one was).

But the lovely electrical people were here by 8:00 a.m.  It turned out that the initial "flash!crack!" that I had heard was my own personal transformer blowing, so they had to bring in the big cherry picker and replace it.  Nice people.

For some reason I haven't gotten much done today.  I did have to tackle the freezer a little - nothing had thawed enough to worry about, but I discovered when I tried to get some ice for lunch that all of the ice in the ice maker had fused into one lump so I had to spend some time liberating that.

So that's the last four days.  Maybe tomorrow will be a bit less interesting.

Short Jeff Visit, and New Hubcaps

 Jeff is in town for a conference.  Unfortunately the conference started on Sunday afternoon and will be going 12 hours a day (what madness is that?) and then he has to go back home immediately afterwards.  But he was able to get out for lunch on Sunday before the conference started.

He wanted to try the new Indian restaurant. I've mentioned before that the strip center is small, and rather run down, mostly dominated by a big student-oriented liquor store.  When we met there Sunday, we were the only two cars in the parking lot, which was still filled by the detritus of a Saturday night liquor store run.

I went over and put my arms around him.  He's one of the few people that I'm comfortable enough to just go hold, that lovely boneless hug, and he doesn't mind at all.  Except that after a couple of minutes I said "doing this in a rather hinky parking lot must look a little strange" and we both laughed and had an enjoyable lunch together.

The next day I went into town to get my tires rotated.  I was prepared - I had the box with my new hubcaps in the car (I've been driving around with a couple of my hubcaps held on with zip ties - when I last had the tires rotated the dealership broke the clips - which is a bit too casual even for me).  I figured that I could ask them to put the new ones on for me.
Well, no they couldn't.  I didn't know that they have to be assembled, and these days they're made of a fairly flimsy plastic and they didn't want to be responsible if one of them broke in the process.

Sigh.  This meant that I could take "get the car tires rotated" off the things-to-do list, but add "put the new hubcaps on the car."  I could, of course, try to call around and find someone who could put them on for me, but I could also consult the Oracle YouTube and do it myself.

I had a plan for today.  I want to see if I can make a puppet of Rocky from Project Hail Mary.  Rob made me a little 3D print of him so I have a point of reference.  I had two chores I wanted to get done first:  Put the hubcaps on the car, and take the bag of chicken feed I had in the car down to the barn and put it in buckets.  Then I could go play in the cottage.

The best laid schemes o' mice and men . . . . .
Putting the reinforcement rings in the hubcaps was trickier than YouTube made it look (actually I was pretty good by the time I got to the last one).  Then it was a matter of popping an old hubcap off and snapping the new one one.  If they would snap on that easily - I didn't want to use too much force and risk snapping the clips the way they had at the dealership.  It took a bit of practice to decide just how much force to use. Again, by the last one I was getting better at it.

I would have enjoyed learning something new, and feeling a bit more competent, but that was offset by the fact that getting down on the ground is awkward (I hurt the bursa in my left knee so can't kneel on it until it heals, which it is doing very slowly).  It hit 90 degrees today, so I was getting sweaty, and the yellow biting flies are out so I was getting bloody.  I was just glad to get it done.  But they look good.  As long as I had to do this, I went for black ones to look a bit more sexy (I did search for spider web ones but couldn't find any)

So all that took a lot longer than planned.  Then it was time for the chicken feed.  It comes in 50 pound bags so I usually just drive around to the barn with it.  However - a tree had fallen across the back drive that I take.  So I had to get my chainsaw and cut that into chunks and toss out of the way, and *then* I could get down to the barn and dole out the 50 pounds of feed into buckets.

By then I was quite hot and very sweaty and all I wanted was a shower, so playing in the cottage will have to be another day.

RIP Mabel

 I got the oil changed in the car today, and it made me a little sad.  It's no big deal - you pull into the oil change place, and you don't even have to get out of your car while they take care of everything.

But it also signals the end of a relationship.  From 2001 to 2025, I just went to the dealership for the oil change, tire rotation, and general checkup.  I'd go there, hand over the keys, then sit in the waiting room, drink coffee, and read while it was all taken care of.

But in 2024, they put the hubcaps on incorrectly, breaking the clips.  I talked them into replacing the two that fell off, and the other two have been held on, most elegantly, with zip ties.  I chalked that up to "everyplace can have an off day."

Last year, when they finished, they told me that they couldn't rotate the tires because of the broken hubcaps.  Also, when they put the car on the lift, they caught the underskirting, ripped it loose, and then just hoped that I wouldn't notice (uh - the sound of something scraping the ground when I drove was a giveaway).  The shop mechanic was less than gracious when I suggested that they fix it - which they didn't do very well and I had to take it to a body shop to get it done properly.  Later, when my low tire light came on, I realized that they had underinflated the tires..

Obviously I can't trust them to take care of my car properly any more.  And I think it's the loss of that trust that makes me a bit sad.  And that now it's two errands instead of one because I still have to find a place to get my tires rotated (and I just ordered new hubcaps because the zip ties are a little tacky).

Also genuine sadness because while I was getting my oil changed, I got an email from Suzie at the museum that Mabel the barred owl was found dead this morning.

I've known Mabel ever since she came to the museum 18 years ago. I handled her a lot when I was in the education department, and some even since then.  She was a bit of a diva and a very picky eater.  All of our other birds mostly get a special bird of prey diet (it looks rather like hamburger).  She would turn up her beak at it, so she mostly got mice, chicks, and fish.

She was a most contrary bird.  When someone goes in to get her, she would fly all over the place until the person could make a grab for the jesses, then she would have to hang upside down until the leash was attached and she could be lifted onto the glove.  Then came the personality change - she loved to be cuddled and scratched.

I was the one who started her on that (I was one of the first people to handle her).  For the first couple of years if I would reach over to try to touch her, she would hunker down or twist away or snap at me.  I persisted, then one day I was able to touch and scratch the back of her neck, and all of a sudden she was "OMG, is *that* what you've been trying to do?"  Sometimes she would almost fall asleep.

Of course, after I spent 2-3 years getting her to that point - she decided that she liked it and would let anybody have a good scratch.  Little slut.

She was an ideal education bird.  You could take her into a classroom full of yelling kids, and she'd just sit there with a "whatever" look on her face.  You could let her sit on a table perch at a festival, with dozens of people walking by, and she was be so calm that a lot of people thought she was taxidermied (which was really funny when she moved).  One time Jim Fowler (of Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom fame) came to the museum when I had her out, and told the crowd to watch her reaction as he gave a perfect barred owl hoot.  Her reaction?  Zip, zilch, nada.  Whatever.

18 years I've known her (and she was an adult when we got her).  I'm going to miss her.

Weird Dream; Jeep Memories

 Very bizarre dream last night.  I was down in the barn - I can't remember what I was doing, when I heard the loud freight train sound and looked out to see the sky black and swirling and the huge tornado funnel coming down.  I knew I couldn't make it to the house and was trying to crawl under a table that I knew would give no protection at all.

I woke up in a panic.

It's odd.  I certainly don't like tornadoes after I dodged the one a couple of years ago (and know many people who didn't), but they're usually not something I think about.

I eventually got back to sleep but I'm a little groggy today.  And unmotivated. I'm still trying to figure out a bit what's going on with me - my chest aches a little (more emotional than physical, a heartache), I'm aware of my breathing, I've even taken recently to just going to lie down in the middle of the day, clutching cuddle pillow.

Trying to wonder what's wrong with me.  Well, duh.  It's just grief.  I know how that feels.  I miss the jeep.   I remember that I cried for two days after giving up the old Honda (and, honestly, I still miss it).  I remember the heartache of watching Bob's truck going down the drive for the last time.  Even the sadness of realizing that the kayaks were a little too heavy for me to manage by myself and letting them go.

But that jeep.  1943 Willys.  Such a unique piece of kit.  And, after 46 years, so many memories.  Parades - lots of parades.  That strange overwhelming feeling (a burst of patriotism?) when you rounded the corner onto the main parade route and saw thousands and thousands of people waving flags and cheering.  Me in my Rosie the Riveter getup, honoring the women who kept this country going while the men were off at war, giving (and getting) the "Rosie salute."  Lots of flag waving.  Giving rides to WWII veterans (and, as time went on, and there were fewer and fewer of them, replacing them with VietNam vets).

I found myself today remembering when we took it to get restored, the way that Bob and I could turn a bad situation around.

We had it for about 15 years, Bob sort of putzing  around with it, sometimes getting it running, before we bit the bullet (and had some cash ahead) to take it to a restorer.  At the time the only one we could find was in Tampa.  We got a cat sitter (we figured on driving there, staying the night with my parents, and coming back).  We were a little over halfway, in the small town in Chiefland, when I looked behind us and said "Bob - there's smoke coming out of the truck."  Bob swore, and pulled over, and said "We're screwed."  I looked around and said "No, we're not."  Because we had pulled over - into the parking lot of a Ford dealership.  So we finished pulling in, explained our situation, and they let us know that they probably wouldn't be able to work on it until the next day.  But then they saw what was on the trailer, and everyone had to come out and look at it.  They even pulled it into the garage that night, rather than letting it sit out in the parking lot.

After we talked to them, and were thinking "now what" we noticed that there was a Hotel 8 just across the street, with a Denny's beside it.  So basically we were set.  I think most people would have been frustrated and angry; somehow after we accepted our fate, and knew things were going to work out, we just decided to enjoy the unexpected gift of each other's company, with nothing we needed to do.  The next morning after breakfast we walked back to the Ford place to get a time estimate, and were told it would be ready in a few minutes.  The mechanic said he knew we needed to get back on the road with that jeep, so  he came into work early to get our truck done before the day's schedule work.

We were told to take it easy - not go above 45 miles an hour, and don't use the air conditioning (fortunately it was early spring).  So we just moseyed our way (being nice enough to pull over for a bit now and then to let traffic through).  And going slowly, with the windows down, let us breathe in the fragrance as we drove past acres of  blossoming orange groves.

Good times.  Good memories.  And, because of those, grief when it's over.

I'm OK with that.

When All Else Fails, Clean the Workroom

 Where are two shoes to click to my clack
Where is a voice to answer mine back?
                                                                     (Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol)

An odd phenomena that I notice from time to time is that I'm often aware of the sounds of my own footsteps.  Like when I'm walking in a store, or a restaurant, or even down a sidewalk.

That's just a random observation.

I've spend a few days out in the cottage, aka The Wicca House, the workroom, my maker space, or (ever since a friend made the pun) the Sidhe shed.  I have always had a tendency to work on a project, finish said project . . . and walk away.  So it needed some attention - the dye materials for the Forest Walk shawl were still out on the counter in one room, the sewing scraps from my Ren Faire outfit in another, the lost-the-momentum possible Wendigo skull on a work table, all that alpaca fleece in pillowcases on the floor . . .  It's all been sorted, some tossed, things put away, surfaces wiped down, even vacuumed.  Ready for the next project when inspiration strikes.  I even did an upgrade.

From time to time when I'm working on a project, I find that I want to review a technique or instruction.  Or even follow a step-by-step video.  Squinting at my phone screen just doesn't work for me.  If I knew up front I'd want to watch something, I could take my laptop with me (no WiFi in the cottage but I can make a hotspot off my phone).  But mid-project, it was either squint or make a run back to the house.

Sometime in the last year or two I got the idea of taking my old  desktop computer down there (because,of course, I had never gotten rid of it, just stored it).  I can't remember how old it is, but it's very proud of itself for being a two-in-one instead of having a separate tower, and I believe it was running on Windows 8.  So, old.

When I turned it on, it would take about 10 minutes to lumber into life.  Then another 10 minutes to actually open a web browser.  A few minutes to tell it to connect to my phone.  A few more to find YouTube.  Basically - about 30+ minutes.  Definitely frustrating if I just wanted to check a technique mid project.  I started thinking about getting a laptop to keep out there.  But I really didn't need or want a full computer, with keyboard and mouse.  All I really needed was . . . 

Well, duh.  A television.  These days, for $80, you can get a 24" smart television.  No fire stick or Chromecast stick needed.  Just plug in and go, and I have YouTube and web access and everything I need.

So the cottage is cleaned up (well, at least by my standards) and waiting for inspiration.  But my brain is foggy.  I don't know the right word - not exactly depressed, or morose, or sad - but something.

I've realized that it's just because there have been a lot of things in the last month that underscores that I am now just Ann, not Ann-and-Bob.  I now wear his ring, which isn't exactly his ring anymore because it would now barely fit on the tip of his pinky finger.  I went to a movie, and to two plays (by myself, of course).  When I had my mammogram done, I went to go check out Michael's and World Bizarre which are both nearby (I'm better now than I once was - the first time I went to Michael's, around 2021, I lasted less than 10 minutes before I had to escape to the car to cry).  He enjoyed exploring both of those.

Giving up the jeep was huge.  I still get twisted up inside when I go to the barn (which is daily, because the chicken feed is in there).  As I said in an earlier post, it's a similar feeling to that I get when RedBug goes hopping by, with the emptiness where his leg used to be.  But Russell is going to rebuild all the damage from sitting there for so long (from needing new tires to rewiring where mice have chewed), and someday, fingers crossed, it will go into a museum.  Best of all possible outcomes.  But I still miss the life that had that jeep in it.

I also finally did the paperwork on the trailer that we used to carry the jeep on.  Rik traded it for a sheep for the museum a few years ago, but still hasn't gotten around to dragging it off (life gets in the way sometimes).  I couldn't find the title; he said he would do a title search but recently said that it would probably be easier if I did it, because I own it so I could probably get a duplicate title online.  I couldn't; apparently that is one one sole thing that was only in Bob's name (even the jeep had both our names on the title).  So it wasn't on my account.  I couldn't create an online account in his name because his license had expired.  So I took a deep breath and gathered up the materials I thought I would need:  the license plate, his driver's license . . . and his death certificate.  I *hate* seeing or touching that.  But it's the official document that lists me as the "surviving spouse" which would give me the ownership.

I hate being reminded that I'm a surviving spouse.  But having all that - it only took a few minutes there to get the paperwork done, and handed over to Rik on the way home.

Looking back - that's Bob's ring, four outings, the jeep, and the trailer in not quite a month.   I've learned that it's best to just let my feelings happen and acknowledge them, rather than trying to convince myself that they don't matter.

And in the meanwhile, do some cleaning up.

A Long Day and a Midsummer Night

 Friday night Tallahassee decided to take a break from the drought, big time (I'm not complaining because we really need the rain).  Bad enough that the power went out.  I went to bed but I couldn't sleep because I was being hyper vigilant. The bedroom has a flat roof, which is a stupid design.  Rather than shingles there is a heavy vinyl sheeting.  If, for example, a branch falls on it and tear it, well, it leaks.  So I was lying there listening for the telltale sound of water dripping inside the bedroom.  It wasn't happening, but I still couldn't relax so I moved out to the couch.

That was fine for a few hours (honestly, I rather like sleeping on the couch) until the power came back on in the wee small hours and the lights that I thought I had turned off when the power was out turned out to be on.  That snapped me awake. But I finally was able to get to sleep again.  Until . . .

Remember this picture of RedBug up on his shelf?  Notice that it's over the couch - and I usually sleep with my head at this end.  At some point after I got back to sleep, I was awakened again by the sound of a cat being very noisily sick.  Groggily I tried to pinpoint the sound and then wondered how it seemed to be coming from directly overhead . . . .  I was inspired to move very quickly.  Fortunately he managed to barf and keep it all on the shelf, but I still had to clean it up, and by then I realized that the alarm was going to go off in a half hour so sleep was a lost cause.

Normally I don't have to go anywhere on Saturday.  But of course this day I did.  The weaver's guild meeting was in the morning, and I was taking that wheel I got a few months ago to another member, and also off loading some of that alpaca.  So there I was, groggy, with a headache, driving in the rain to a meeting I didn't really want to attend (they tend to spend a lot of time on tangents that don't interest me).  At least it was at the library, which is next door to that excellent French pastry shop, so the morning wasn't a total loss.

Normally I never go anywhere on a Saturday night, but . . . .  I had a ticket to an outdoor production of a Midsummer Night's Dream out at the museum.  It was brilliant.  The scenes were set in different places along the trail, and the audience walked to them.  So when the rustics were meeting to rehearse their play "by the old oak tree in the woods" you walked to go see them.  When the young lovers were chasing each other through the woods, it was done literally.  Titania's bower up in the tree - was up in a tree.  Fairies in light-up costumes were overhead (using the Tree to Tree ropes course).  There were extra effects - like the nightbirds calling, the eagle being annoyed and screaming at the actors, and the turkey keeping up a steady comment.

I don't think I could ever really enjoy this play on a stage again.

Other adventures.  As I didn't get much sleep Friday night and had a very long day Saturday (I didn't get home from the play until after 10:00 p.m.) I was a bit of a zombie on Sunday and looking forward to bed.  But after the power outage on Friday the air pump on my fish tank became *very* loud (I'll go buy a new one tomorrow).  Annoying enough that I returned to the couch.  In the wee small hours the cats went bonkers, running all over and knocking stuff down and just having shenanigans.  That finally settled down.  I was able to get some sleep, but I can see the kitchen from the couch and at 6:00 the very bright light from my herb garden came on.  When that woke me, I noticed that the cats were still on high alert - and then I saw the mouse making a dash for the bedroom.  I jumped up and threw the cats out of the bedroom.  Now I had a mouse under my secretary to deal with.

I came up with A Clever Plan.  I got a shopping bag and put a towel in it to make it seem like a cozy safe place and laid it on one side of the secretary.  Then I got down with a flashlight and a ruler to poke under the secretary to chivy the mouse towards the bag.

Darned if it didn't work!  Mouse got moved outside.  At this point sleep was out of the question (the AC people were coming the clean the unit in a couple of hours).  So I did my morning ablutions, fed the cats, went to go let the chickens out of the coop and feed them, then finally made my tea and poured my cereal.  As I sat down, there was a tiny knock at the sliding glass door as a squirrel reminded me I had not put out their sunflower seeds and peanuts.

I doubt if I'll get much done today.

Frustrating Day (but a couple of cute pictures)

 Some days you're just spinning your wheels.

Granted, I'm still in a down mood from the jeep.  The barn looks like a cavern.  Live with something for 46 years and you get used to having it around.  And we had such fun with it.  Past tense.

I realize that I'm feeling the same way about the jeep as I did about RedBug's leg.  Making the decision, each time, tore me up.  Going through with it hurt.  Looking at the smooth blankness where Bug's leg used to be still twists me up a little.  Looking at the empty barn hurts.

But RedBug would have died.  And the jeep would have rusted away.  I did what had to be done to save them.  Sigh.

So today I've been doing, or trying to do, stuff that needs to be done . . . again.  There's a woman in the weaver's guild who wants the spinning wheel that I got in March (with the idea of passing it on).  We haven't gotten together yet (in her defense, she works and has two preteen boys).  I wrote her last week to see if she was going to the guild meeting this coming Saturday.  I rarely go, but I would to be able to take it to her.  I didn't hear back.  So I wrote again today.  I've fine either way, but I would like to know if I need to plan on going or not.

I wanted to look at the results of my Dexa scan and compare it to earlier years.  I tried to log onto my patient portal but couldn't.  I finally called the help number and apparently I fell out of the system.  So I went through all the steps and filled out the online forms to get reinstated.  They had to send me an access code, which it said could take a day.  I waited two days, then called back today to deal with that.  I finally get into the portal - and while it verifies that I had the scan, it doesn't have the results.  Now I have to call my doctor's office to find out how to get those.

I mentioned a couple of posts ago about having to try to contact the DMV to get a title for the car trailer.  Of course, I think it's the only thing we owned that apparently was only in Bob's name, so I can't get it online.  It's suggested that you make an appointment rather than just walk in.  You can't do that online.  So I called three times today, to go through the phone tree to get to the point you can ask for a human being, only to get the message "everyone is busy, try calling again later."  So I guess I'll take a day and just go sit there until someone can see me.  In the meanwhile, I know I'll have to turn the license plate in, so I went to take it off but the bolts have rusted so I'll need to tackle it with WD40, a screwdriver, and a wrench.

OK,that's today down the tubes. Maybe I should just take my blanket and book and go sit by my stream and chill.  I start down the path, and face this.

My path runs under those two fallen trees.  They're too big for my little chainsaw.  I'll still be able to get down to the stream (over the first tree, duck under the second) but I need to clean out the branches and other detritus first.   In my present mood I should not be working with implements of destruction.

Basically, this day has been a wash.  But to end it with a reset, a couple of cute pictures.  One of the young foxes at the museum is on medication, and it's given to her in little balls of meat.  So that we're sure she gets it, we have to hand feed her.  

One of the cats' toys is a round plush piggie.  RiverSong had decided that it makes a good pillow.

Maybe tonight I'll go sit with the fireflies again before their brief season is over.