Wet Monday

 Pouring rain today, puddles forming where they usually don't, louder than usual while also darker than usual.  

Back and working after five days off.  Plowing through the pile that accumulated during that time.

Good Quality Time this morning with my little buddy Nelson.  Over the weekend he was showing signs of Feline Hyperesthesia Syndrome.  I've seen that before at Tabby's Place with Max.  I hope Nelson doesn't mutilate his tail the way Max did.  Meds may be necessary.

Winnowed some of my YouTube watchlist over the weekend.  Watched The Front Page (1931) and half of Totie Returns! (1978).  Also some Yes, Minister (1980) on Amazon Prime.  Read some Please Don't Eat the Daisies (1957).  Ignored The Crown, The Queen, The Queen's Gambit, and pretty much everything else from this century except Dix Pour Cent.

Up at 7:15, showered and ready to work by 8:30, a bowl of Special K and 5 oz. grapefruit juice with seltzer at 11:00.  Will shut down at 5:00 and fill a few hours until bed.  Some of that time with Good Queen Swirly on my lap, I hope. 

No more leaves to rake, at last.  Speedwell is creeping through the lawn, showing tiny blue flowers even at this late date.  

Really?

Of course, I've known people who would call this a perfect description of their children.  

I feel 11 years old again!

 The town of Fucking, Austria is changing its name.  All the Fucking road signs were being stolen, and all the Fucking jokes have already been made.

My Tuesday

In mid-afternoon, the sun was mostly out, and PG and I walked a little way around the development, but there was a chilly breeze and her back was bothering her, so we turned around much sooner than usual.  

Still can't go much of anywhere else, so I worked, admittedly pacing myself.  A few minutes after 5:00, I walked away from the desk and keyboard, and lay down on the bed for some afternoon Quality Time with Nelson.  

PG went upstairs at 6:30, and I watched another episode of Episodes, then fell asleep during Stan Freberg Show #2, awakening halfway through #3.  Now LCI is replaying President Macron's address to the nation on the latest strategy and tactics to stop the spread of Covid-19.  

Another one bites the dust

 Everyone agrees -- it would be too much of a risk to have Thanksgiving dinner together this year.  Good thing I listened to all those World War II newscasts and have some perspective.  Rationing meat, sugar, *gasoline*... and under those rules for three years?  By next November, everyone will have been vaccinated and things will be back to normal, and 2020 will be just a bad memory.  

But not being able to visit Tabby's Place for Black Friday?  (Insert maximum-pout emoji here.)

What if the coronavirus mutates and the vaccine doesn't affect the new version?  That's happened with the flu vaccine... but we get the shot anyway.  

Forty years later

Maybe there’s no perky co-ed or fine Columbian, but you are, in fact, growing old. 

   -- Libby Cudmore, November 18, 2020 

Saturday Evening Post

 Standard weekend day, mostly.  PetSmart (returned food that none of the cats, indoor or outdoor, enjoyed.  The raccoon(s) ate it up.)  

Then Wegmans (returned beef stock whose cap had been opened by someone before we bought it).  Bread, milk for PG, orange juice (extra pulp), 2 boxes of Dove Bars, and fixings for cranberry mold; mandarin oranges, raspberry gelatin, lemon yogurt.  

Leftover pizza and Pepsi back home.  I napped while PG watched Vera.  

But then, a first:  GrubHub to deliver 2 orders of chicken croquettes from Trivet diner.  The driver delivered in record time, although if the graphic is any indication, he may have taken some heretofore unknown shortcuts.  That gray stuff isn't road as far as I know.

In fact, the delivery car pulled up in front of the house while the icon in the graphic was still halfway down Daniel Street.  

Here's where it gets slightly more interesting.  He handed me the bag containing dinner, and I checked the contents, only to find one order of chicken croquettes instead of two.  I phoned Trivet, and the guy who answered the phone determined it was their fault and told me he'd deliver the 2nd one himself.  Maybe fifteen minutes later, he arrived with the rest of the order, plus a slice of pumpkin pie on the house.

Guess that's it for another day during a pandemic.  PG's gone upstairs to play on her PC and you know where I am and what I'm doing.  Here's what I'm listening to.  Laying no odds or taking any bets on whether that link will still be valid when you click it, 10 or 25 or 100 years from now.  (You're here in 2120?  Cool!  I used to go back in time, too, and download out-of-copyright books or publicly available media like Life magazine or the weekly referenced in the title above.  Hope 2120 is better than this year.)

Black Friday

 The reason the little black pooshka was sitting so demurely was that she had rejected the food Pat offered, and she would appreciate something better, please.  And soon.  This is a look of a finicky cat.  But look at her -- how could anyone tell her no?  

Pretty Lady Cat

Finally

 The township leaf pickup came around this morning and the gutter is empty once more.

Difficult client broker today, and I don't deal well with difficult customers.  Haven't done anything to get myself fired yet, so that's one step better than the library.  I know how I want to handle this one, it's just a matter of doing it.

Don't look now...

 ... but Carl Bovis is posting pictures of tits again on Twitter.  And I must admit I enjoy looking at them.

November 17, 2020

Something I forgot

 Good Quality Time

Sunday post

 PG making pot roast, browning the meat in the Le Creuset, the lower floor full of the aroma of the Maillard Reaction.

Yesterday the house was scented with blueberry muffins topped with praline pecans.  PG said she liked them a lot.  

Lots and lots of leaves this fall.  I just don't remember that many leaves in past years, although there must have been just as many last year and the year before.  There are so many that even though the gutter out front is filled from end to end with maple and zelkova leaves, there was still a 15 x 15 area beneath the maple that was piled high, and I mowed it over and over again until they were chopped fine.  

We shopped at Giant yesterday and Wegmans today, and the paper products aisle in both stores is becoming bare once more.  If not for that and the dearth of cleaning products, and the masks everyone wears, it would look pretty normal.  The Wegmans lot this morning was jam-packed, as though people were stocking up for Thanksgiving, although that's still more than a week away.

The State of Me:  Eight months of pandemic restrictions haven't weighed heavily on me.  I am happy to work from home.  I am happy I don't have to commute to work, that I only fill up the gas tank once a month, and that my car insurance payment has been reduced by a third.  I especially enjoy being with my wife and best friend 24/7.  

I miss going inside Tabby's Place and loving on cats.  I miss Diana's volleyball matches and I miss Nebraska's volleyball matches.  

A morning at Tabby's Place

 

A look back

 The Indian Blanket has no flowers now, but a few weeks ago they looked like this.  Just in the mood now to think of good things.  

Looking out my back door

 It's been warm and sunny all day.  Now in late afternoon, it's about time to fire up the Weber grill and get supper ready. #ifthisisntnice

Saturday evening post

We drove to Center Valley to the L.L. Bean to exchange a shirt Pat bought for me.  For the first time ever, a Bean shirt in my size, XL/Tall, was too big.  I tried on an XL/Regular and it fit the way I'd expected the XL/Tall to fit.  

Instead of going back to our area, I drove south on Route 309 toward Quakertown.  I intended to take the turnpike back home, just for a change.  But about a mile north of town, traffic stopped.  We could see multiple sets of emergency lights, but we thought that there would at least be one lane open.  Instead, cars ahead of us began making U-turns and heading back north.  We did, too.  

Bought apple pastries at Costco and put one in the Breville to toast it a little.  Instead, it burned.  When Pat and I reached in without using the wooden tongs, we got burned, too.

Where was I?

Where was I when I learned that Pennsylvania had finally been called for Joe Biden?  Lying on the couch, reading Google News on my iPad.  That was about 15 minutes after the call on CNN.  (I always knew that refreshing GN one more time would be the difference.)  

I brought up the NY Times app and showed Pat the front page.  She picked up the Tivo remote and turned the TV back on.

What do I think of it? Mr. Biden's own words, offered in a different context, described it pretty well.

Thursday update

 Life is normal around here, as long as we don't turn on the news or look at Twitter.  (Pat's able to do that, but for me, less so.)  We went for a walk in breezy but sunny 65-degree conditions just now.  Just the same, we know Indian Summer when we see it, and picked up some flannel sheets from L. L. Bean.  Also thinking about a storm door for the laundry room.  

There's been a recent rash of scam calls purporting to be from Apple.  All we can do is use caller ID and pick up only when we know the name on the screen.  

In mid-morning, a salesman rang the doorbell, looking to sell me a Medicare supplement.  Door-to-door cold calling... ugh.  What a way to make a living.  

Election report

Pat had an appointment this morning, and as we drove down Cetronia Road, we could see the church that's used as a polling station.  There were dozens of cars on the front lawn, and it looked like there were dozens more cars parked along the road across from the church.  First time we'd ever seen that many down there.  Looks like folks are taking this election mighty seriously.

"...with reservations."

 

Rabbit rabbit

 Rabbit rabbit