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errands

Weekend summaries, never as satisfying as the real thing

A midday storm is an inescapable display of power that changes a day’s entire attitude. When the winds and thunder roll in and the rain pecks at the walls and windows, that’s a thrill, a romance, a terror, a cozy companion, he wrote after careful proofreading.

That time just after the storm has passed needs a name for its sadness.

And it is. This was on Saturday afternoon, when there was no immediate need for melancholy. After an hour or so the sun was brilliant and drying everything out, as if nothing had happened and we were back to a wonderfully hot, now humid, summer day. The sort that is observed nicely from indoors, because let’s be honest about the need to be outside. And that little storm was fun, but the part that follows seldom ever is.

Anyway, we’ve had several nice summer rains of late, and they have been immensely helpful. Presently, 100 percent of our county is rated as “abnormally dry” on the drought monitor. Only 9.8 percent of it is in the moderate drought category. Most of the county has been in a drought since last October. Three months ago it was of the “severe” variety.

This is the second moderate drought we’ve experienced in three years here. In 2024, we got some rain one night in November which broke the longest consecutive-days drought in 130 years of local record keeping. It’d been two months since anything fell out of the sky. Even then, when even the people that pay close attention to these things began to get squirmy, it wasn’t like the 2002 drought, when people were having to change their habits. “My lawn! My car!” When the veggies shrivel or you’re asked to take shorter showers, that’s when people notice. If we’re emerging from a drought right now, a slow-motion, year-long effort, I don’t think it’ll figure into most people’s thinking. Certainly not the neighbors, with the sprinklers.

But if we’re emerging from a drought, it could be a lot worse. Look out west. Look at Europe. Look around.

And if you don’t look too carefully you might think that I caught this maple leaf, midflight, and with a drop of rain on it.

If, that is, you overlook the spiderweb, which I’ve obviously been doing.

Everything grows well out back. Morning sun and afternoon shade and look at the Brown-eyed Susan. It is about to break containment.

Right next to it, the honeysuckle, which we had to cut way back in the spring of last year to replace the trellis upon which it depends. I had no problem with that. Honeysuckle takes your attacks on its free will and laughs in the face of your determinism. I need to prune it more, because it has grown wild and woolly once more. Add it to the list of things I need to do when it isn’t 98 degrees outside, which is the case as of this writing.

There are so many things on that list, and I made one slight in-road yesterday. I visited Harbor Freight, my first every visit, and picked up yard bags — cheapest I could find, and yes I did an extensive price comparison because I have the internet available for my every thought.

I also had a list of other things I wanted to pick up, a note on my phone, complete with names, prices and aisles. To say I have been preparing for this trip for sometime is overstating it, the previous two sentences notwithstanding. And then I got there and —

I’d like to leave the previous shopper a note of encouragement. The important thing is that you almost tried.

Completing the job of landing the cart in the corral would have taken an additional nine steps and a sophisticated heel pivot — I know because I did it for you — but you almost did the thing that society requests of you.

It calls to mind times when I would go to the IGA in wherever it was we lived last. Someone was always leaving carts out. Mind you, I don’t cruise the parking lot looking to solve this problem, but if it’s there I will fix your shortcomings, sure. And I’ll feel good about myself, as I did the times at that IGA when I moved the carts from the handicapped parking spaces into the corral that was mounted right next to the handicapped parking spaces. The grocery store kids were taking a smoke break on the stoop and laughed at that, and, eye contact being a fate-worse-than-death in that part of the world, I gave them a look, in turn.

I don’t miss anything about that place. Well, the 9:30 sunsets in the summer were nice. They also had good multi-use paths. Seven years, those are the two things I miss.

Anyway, I purchased the lawn bags. Probably should have picked up more — but how much of that do you want to do at a time? I also picked up two corner clamps. You really need four, but they only had the two. I decided to wait on some other items on my list, but I did indulge myself by picking up two cheap tape measures. One will live upstairs. One will live downstairs. This plan accomplishes two goals, keeping the good tape measure from wandering all over the house for weeks at a time, and keeps me from having to go to the garage to fetch the good one when I need to determine the empty space on that wall over there. At $4 a pop, these two new ones will pay for themselves somewhere around 2029.

The tape measures were in one of those blister packages though, the sort that involves great risk of bodily harm to free the thing you now own. The easiest way to free the tape measure was by unscrewing the little belt clip from the back. The easiest way to do this was to pierce the blister package with the tip of a pointy Phillips screw driver. Then you unscrew it. Then you wiggle the screw out of place. The tape itself is now free of the packaging, but you must now dig out the little silver belt clip. And here it helps if you pretend like you are a 19th century battlefield surgeon trying to find a bullet, and then dig the thing out in a grotesque way for moviegoers.

Then you have to reassemble it. Now, this is a tiny screw on a cheap tape measure from Harbor Freight. You must take care with this, pretending like you are the first 21st century surgeon to use a sonic scalpel to remove a three-micron imperfection on a patient’s iris. Then you have to test the tape measure, because who knows what secondary role that screw had. Does the tape come out of the case? Yes. Does the lock lock the tape? Yes, also it has a satisfying click. Does the tape retract when you unlock the lock? Yes. Do you do all of this for the second tape measure? Yes. Does the cat look at you like he is wondering if you’ve completely lost your mind? Yes. Do you know where these two tape measures are going to be stored when they aren’t in use? Absolutely not.

Well, another day for that, then.

I am the type of bike rider that can ride the same road a lot. Some people get bored. I suppose some people find the repetition meditative. Me, I’m usually too close to hypoxia to worry about meditating. I am also the type of bike rider that likes to ride new roads, or revisit the rarely ridden roads. But, what I’ve really learned about myself is that I’m the type of bike rider who, once there is an idea in place, absolutely must do that ride.

Saturday evening I had the idea of doing some hill repeats. It’s all very flat here and I haven’t ridden a real hill in several years now and I was never good at it and it’s hot and I am not riding enough and so this was a good idea.

I recalled this road, which I’ve been up three times perhaps, and down twice. It has a hill. It’s gradual. It is also quiet, and part of it is, as you can see, nicely shaded.

People do hill repeats to get stronger — or, like me, to say they’ve done them. There’s a method to the madness of going up the same hill over and over. Probably more than one. I just decided to go up the hill, and figured I’d do it several times. And so I soft-pedaled my way to that hill, an easy 17 minute ride with no exertion. And then I went up that hill. It tops out, then goes up a bit more, and does that a few times before the road forms a T-intersection with the nearest highway. If you saw the hill in profile it looks a bit like a molar. The climb isn’t hard or long, but what I know about hill repeats is that you want the concerted effort and then the repetition. What I want out of the hill repeat is to be able to turn around safely. And this road does all of those things. So I rode the road, and figured, “I’ll do 10.” And then later I said to myself, “It really is hot out here.” And then I said, “I’ll do five.” And then I said, “I think that’s five.” And then I took the long way home, turning left at that highway instead of turning around, letting the road pull me past the veteran’s cemetery and back into town, feeling the asphalt bend to my right between the gas station and the biker bar. Apparently they have good pub grub, though I have only seen the “biker’s welcome” sign on the wall, and they wouldn’t turn me away, but I think they mean motorcyclists. The little side road I was on after that falls downhill, usually I’m on this bit of infrastructure in the opposite direction. I turn left and and then left again, past the town lake, and into downtown. I timed the red light, singular, just right. Make the right past bike shop and opposite the old fire ring, and then the left for home.

At that point I am 3.5 miles from home, I have been out for about 90 minutes, drank three bottles of water, had enough of the heat and the little hills. I am counting, in my mind, the little rises between my bike and my neighborhood. I estimated three. There were four. After the second I started thinking of the alternate ways home, because I didn’t want that last hill. At the four-way stop I could go left and then right and go up a hill on bad chip-and-seal and then do the reverse side of this climb. I could turn right and go down a hill and then up two actual hills before the final incline and … no, straight ahead was the easiest way to get there and I was just done with the heat. When I got home I was right on the edge of shivering, which is one of those early heat exhaustion symptoms. Or the sweat wasn’t evaporating because I was no longer in the wind and perspiration could finally do its cooling job.

Inside, then, more water, this time with electrolytes. Shower.

There’s a very, very small wound in the next photo, and I’m just telling you now. It’s hardly the worst thing in the world, but it is a part of the story and now you’ve been warned.

I’ve bled on a bicycle in several different ways. Crashes. Hailstorm. Whacked by a limb too far out into the road.

Some 10-plus years ago I cut myself so badly I had to turn around, go home and bandage myself up. The little rubber cover on my handlebar hood had disappeared and it hadn’t yet been replaced. Beneath that hood is a screw that holds all of the stuff in the shifter-brake area together. I reached up to adjust and grabbed the screw and sliced my pinky. It was at the beginning of the ride, and so I went back out, gauze and tape and Band-aids and such. I could follow the blood trail back out. I still have the scar.

Anyway, and here it comes, as I was getting ready to shower I noticed I nicked the ring finger on my left hand. No idea how.

It’s fine. Didn’t bleed. I’ll keep it clean and it’ll heal itself because I believe in first aid. But it’s right in that spot where the finger touches the middle finger and it’ll be a reminder, for a few days, that I have no idea how that happened.

My lovely bride, meanwhile, did an aqua bike == a swim and ride race — and she finished second. Podium and proud! We did the proper sort of celebration: Chinese for dinner, and basked with ice cream from the local creamery.

The teens running the place closed as we were there. Removed the garbage bags, shut the windows, took away the umbrellas, turned off the monitors and figured “These two are the upstanding sort who won’t cause us any problem. They’ll probably be home and in bed before 10, anyway.”

And they were right about that.

Well, I had a lot of other things I was going to talk about, but I have to save something for the rest of the week. Besides, I have written now almost 2,300 words and said absolutely nothing. You deserve a break.

errands / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
21
Jul 26

Skin, I have it

I had a dermatology checkup today. The short version: I have skin. The slightly longer version: I have skin and it is in good condition and there’s nothing to be alarmed about.

I am alarmed. The guy that called my name in the waiting room and escorted me to an exam room asked me, I am sure, the basic array of triage questions. I was going to give him two more questions before I asked him how old he was and what time his mom was picking up today.

But it is a dermatology office, maybe he just knows how to take care of his skin.

Then the doctor came in with his two PAs in tow. We shook hands. I made the acquaintance of his PA-in-training and was trying, for some reason, to make sure she felt seen. The dermatologist interrupted me with all of the dermatology questions.

We discussed my poison ivy, which has cleared up right on schedule. Apparently they’re seeing a lot of that this year. Makes you wonder about the down years. Are there years when urushiol oil is in short supply? How does this never make the news? What does that mean for issues beyond the local ecological environment? People are going to tell you it is good for animals and insects. People are also going to tell you that climate change promotes more poison ivy and, thus urushiol oil. Don’t believe Big Poison Ivy. This is what you need to remember:

When the oil gets into your skin, your immune system’s sensor cells recognize urushiol as foreign to your body. These sensor cells then call in protector cells to the area, warning them of the invasion. The protector cells defend your body against the intruder by attacking the urushiol in the skin. Unfortunately, some of your body’s normal skin cells are casualties of this war, which is what leads to the itchiness and swelling of a poison ivy rash.

I think that the PA-in-training needs to both know these things (and I’m sure she does) but also how to deal with people who bring this sort of information with them. And what she learned from that experience, from her mentor, was “Keep the patient on task.”

We’ve all got roles to play, and that’s the one I played there today.

Anyway, an exam was taken. I passed for another year.

I was given a shopping list by my lovely bride. I volunteered to take the grocery shopping off her schedule if she gave me a list and some aisle direction, and she did. I don’t mind the store. I dislike aimlessly wandering from aisle to aisle, squinting at signs, dodging people and peering on every shelf for that One Weird Thing that will make my skin as young and as fresh as that 14-year-old I just met. So she give me a list and gave me some directions for some of the slightly more obscure things.

And then — confident that I’d saved her virtually no time while I happily texted away at her, aisle-by-aisle — as I approached the checkout, I got a message for additional things. Oh, these are for dessert. Which is the only reason I went back into the fray — also because checkout was a bit of a mess itself at the moment, but dessert. If it had been, say, brussels sprouts, I would have said, Nope. Not on the list. Not on the contract. Can’t have it.

Instead, I got an additional request for these things … entirely off-setting all of the healthy things I’d picked up. But, I also picked up something else. A mystery. What kind of dessert is this?

I guess we’ll find out in a few days.

Also, hon, they were out of brussels sprouts. So sorry. Couldn’t be helped. They’re selling like … well, whatever undesirable vegetables sell like.

And now the storms are rolling in, anyway. Can’t cook brussels sprouts in bad weather. That’s like a rule, or something. Might effect the flavor. I’m sure that’s one of those old wives tales that’s true.

errands / Friday / Ireland / memories / overwriting / photo / site / video — Comments Off
22
May 26

The video, at the end, is the only impressive thing here

Things that will impress no one: Today I got both of my inboxes down to 30 or less emails. Also, I reorganized some of the subfolders. You can take pleasures in the simplest, dumbest, weirdest, least useful, and effective things if you don’t try too hard. In a related story, I have a document on my computer where I keep several small bits of code that get used a lot on the blog. It had become a sprawling thing. Four pages, some of it outdated. But, today, I shaped that up. Now it is two pages. And it is organized by section! This will come in handy since — when I know I want to go C&P a bit of code — I just use Command-F anyway. But it made me happy and looks neater because, again, if you don’t try too hard.

This is what it looks like outside. This is the best it has looked since Wednesday evening. Sometimes it has been almost-drizzling. At some point, after hours of that, you just want to fling open a door and yell, “C’mon and rain already!”

We need the rain. And I won’t begrudge having the rain. But if you’re going to look like this, make with the rain.

It’ll be like this through the weekend. Through Memorial Day, according to the latest forecast. Maybe the clouds will move off or burn off by Tuesday.

Something else that will impress no one: I went shopping today. There’s a Kohl’s 20 minutes away and it is a straight shot and, honestly, I thought it was farther away than that until I really studied the map. So, I went there. I discovered it is right next to a Home Depot. These are good things to know. We’ll never know why it takes me so long to learn these things.

I needed some jeans. I couldn’t tell you the last time I went to a store for jeans. I’ve worn the same size for ages and it’s easy enough to order online and that’s life in the 21st century. Well, I wanted a 2003 experience today, and let me just tell you … everyone in this town wears the same size jeans that I wear. Or the store thinks no one wears the same size I do.

Two walls of neatly folded pants — respect to the person working in retail there — and exactly one pair in my waist and inseam size. I also picked up two pairs that are slightly longer, because maybe I’ll grow into them.

Grabbed some socks, which you can buy in sets of three or Thanks For Propping Up The Sock Darning Factory for Q2. Has anyone ever asked why someone needs to buy 12 pairs of socks? Has anyone ever asked if the sock people and Big Dryer are in on this together? And what about — hey! Look at those shirts on sale!

The soundtrack was from early 1990s, I don’t know when the last time you heard “U Can’t Touch This,” but I heard it today.

Kohl’s does this neat thing now where they leave you alone in the store, and then urge you to walk through this maze of impulse buys aimed at children — this poor mom and her 4-year-old, ‘I want this!’ daughter in front of me — and then proceed to ignore you while checking you out in the slowest speed quantified by man. This store was operating as a -4 on the Disney World scale, that is you could be getting on your fourth ride at the Mouse before you got through this line.

I asked the woman at my register — the one who was demonstrably the slowest, because you have time to assess the efficacy of each register and eventually it come down to you and “Next!” and you’re thinking, Please not that one, please not that one, please not that one. — how her day was. She seemed surprised and pleased that I asked, but these are the joys of going to a store, that little bit of banter. Or so I’m told, anyway. I’d watched her try to ring out one customer for about 15 minutes, a demonstration of “Oops!” with good cheer. Sometimes we have days like that, and maybe the good cheer helps. It’s the right attitude. I helped her by presenting all my items scanner-side-up. She said no one ever did that. I began to think I might be the person that keeps her in this job another month. You never know. She tallies my totals, or totals my tallies, and gives me the price, but if you had a Kohl’s card it’d be something like 40 percent of that, somehow. And, once again, I wonder who they’re stealing clothes from. There’s just a bunch of people on a highway somewhere in maroon vests with giant Ks on the back and they’re knocking off trucks bound for TJ Maxx and Belk and JC Penney, I’m sure of it. Anyway, I do not have those cards because I never come to the store. This is the first time in more than three years. Probably six. Let me pay and get out of here because this line is embarrassing and it’s quite warm in here for some reason and 55 degrees outside sounds lovely right now.

Which was when her entire cash register went down.

And friend, mindful of those Progressive “homeowners turn into their parents” spots, I resisted the urge to say, “That must mean it’s all free.”

Only, what I do when that happens is, I don’t deliver the line and smile and wait for the obligatory customer service laugh. I deliver the line, gather the things up and hit the door.

I did not do that. Seeing blue lights in my rear view mirror didn’t seem worth it for a few pairs of jeans, and more socks than all the children in my neighborhood could need.

But that was what I did today. Also, the grocery store. Strawberries for lunch. And the bank.

Three stops for me is a full day. Impressing no one.

But this! This is impressive. I’ve been living in the happy memories of our wonderful Irish vacation and sharing extra videos that we didn’t get to at the time. This is the last post (for now) with video from that trip. It is fitting that it is the last video I took at the end of our March journey.

This is the northernmost point of that beautiful island nation.

errands / Ireland / memories / photo / Thursday / video — Comments Off
14
May 26

The grocery getters

I am grading. I will finish tomorrow. Using the power of will, I will will it to be done. It will be done. I have made great headway, but the alternatively best and worst thing is the little counter that shows me how much more there is to go.

Actually, maybe that’s the worst thing. The best thing is seeing people turn in good work and watching their grades improve. This has to do with how finals are weighted, maybe someone finally took it seriously, or it just all clicked into place. Whatever the individual reason, the grades are going in positive directions. I haven’t seen anything scary or negative. May the trends continue.

I was sent to the grocery store because my lovely bride had done the regular shopping, but forgot an ingredient for tonight’s dinner. So I volunteered to go. What’s one brief trip for one item compared to all of the shopping she does? You just go back to the dairy aisle, confront yourself with the modern age of dairy products, and grab the thing you need. Also, you might cruise by the cereal aisle for something you’ve lately been craving. There’s no need to get all the things you’ve been lately adding to your mental list, because why be efficient when you can go back again? What, then, is one brief trip? It is a pleasure to provide some brief relief to the bringer of groceries, the standard in lines, the regular pusher of the shopping cart.

But let’s talk about what you’re driving to the grocery store. Why are these trucks taller than the car? What do you think you are buying at the grocery store? You certainly aren’t filling the bed of the truck. It’s a sizable store, but I know you aren’t because you are doing the TikTok Combat Park Challenge for no reason whatsoever.

The person driving the truck on the left here, I saw them loading groceries. (In the cab, of course.) The man driving the truck on the right was sitting in his truck. You shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover, but you can tell the price, and in this case, it is hard to imagine these trucks living a heavy duty lifestyle.

I bet they feel pretty gratified, right now, about gas prices, too.

Anyway, ricotta acquired. Self-check out checked out. I had determined to stop using those things, but the checkouts with employees were backed up considerably. Maybe that means other people are also over the whole “You aren’t paying me to do the work you are no longer paying your employees to do” concept. We’re all going to come to that conclusion before long, I think. Next time I go to the store, this will be my stand.

After I marvel at the oversized vehicles out front.

I’m still living in the happy memories of our wonderful Irish vacation. So, I’m sharing extra videos that we didn’t get to at the time. It was a great vacation. I have a lot of footage. This will go on for some time. Enjoy it with me, won’t you?

This is Horn Head.

errands / Friday / Rowan — Comments Off
23
Jan 26

Winterpalooza is coming

With the beginning of a new semester — we wrapped the first week today — comes a whole slate of meetings. Friday is a big meeting day around here, and you can see them coming. Meetings, I mean. Sometimes, the Fridays are obscured. You can see the meetings coming. Mostly, because we have too many calendars.

So, today, I had meetings two and three of the semester. It was a faculty meeting Wednesday. Today I had a committee meeting I sit on a university-wide committee that aspires to work with students, helping them interact with other elements of the university. We meet every other week. We talk about helping students. And that is what we did today, most successfully. We also established the next two meetings, and some of the things we might work toward.

That was this morning. In the afternoon I had a sustainability meeting. It was a meeting about sustainability, but not, necessarily, a meeting about sustainable meetings. (Those usually come in the middle of the term, when we’re delirious, but not yet worn out.)

I wrote my online classes. They’ve heard from me three times this week. Usually it is twice a week. But, today, after sending normal class stuff Monday and Thursday, I sent out a campus resources email. I like this email. Shows you care. One of the great things about the university, the note starts, is all of the resources they devote to you. And then I just start listing them, with links, contact info, and details, until I’m worn out. Then, at the end, I remind them that this is not a complete list. There are always more services! I offer to help them find those things, because I care. I am also now in charge of our department’s running list of campus resources, because I volunteered, because I care.

It’s Friday, you can do a lot of caring on Friday. Monday night, Tuesday morning, all day Thursday, not quite as much.

We are bracing for weather. This is how I am bracing. I went into the laundry room and rearranged two cabinets. The idea was that the handwarmers can be right up front, right in the center of the room, and easily accessible in the dark.

I pulled the phone bank chargers from their storage space, because I had the bright idea sometime back that all of these should be in one place should we need them, or if we are packing for a trip. I got four of those. I need to grab the one out of my backpack to complete the set.

I dug out the battery-powered lantern that I bought from a closing K-Mart in 2016. I grabbed every AA battery we have to power that lantern. Next to it is a lithium-powered work light that was a Christmas gift a few years ago. I pulled out the running headlamps. I got my bike flashlight and two backup batteries for it. (Others are stored elsewhere, and I can get to them if it gets desperate.) I made a note of where a few other little emergency lights are hanging around, should we need them.

I started charging all of these, and made two neat piles on the bar. Charged, and waiting in line.

Two shovels and the snowblower are in the garage. There’s a new quart of oil waiting to be put to use. I’ll top off the gas tank in my car and the gas can for the blower tomorrow. The fridge is also getting stocked tomorrow, if there are any groceries left to be had. The university announced today — and this is no easy decision, multiple campuses in various places, a hospital, commuters, etc. — that most of its operations will be closed Sunday and Monday.

We have one thing to do tomorrow, but we’ll beat the weather back home. Winter rolls in tomorrow night. We will be getting somewhere between two and 84 inches, depending on which forecast you check, and when you look.

Here’s my prediction: this will be one of the first big clues that killing so many of our national weather resources last year was a fundamentally stupid idea.

If you’re getting bad weather this weekend, I hope you can stay indoors, safe and warm. See you Monday, when we will hopefully all begin digging out.