(Not) There For You

I meant to use this for an earlier post, but forgot I’d taken it. Note only one of the aliens is female, and while every other alien is doing something, she is standing idly by, smiling prettily. I realize we have lots of other problems these days, but this is a bad message to send to kids.

I’m sure I can come up with excuses — I’m always good at those — but I don’t really have one for my lack of participation in my own blog. I thought I would do better this morning, but it’s clear now, at 9:20, that I’m not going to.

I had a semi-productive weekend, just not in the blog world: instead of posting, I unpacked a box of paper, mostly transferring it into what is essentially another box, in the form of a file-cabinet drawer. But I did sort of sort as I went, and even threw out a handful of papers.

Although I also re-learned the value of not throwing anything out, when I needed the ancient bottle of Bactine I found while moving and almost tossed. Instead, I kept it, and this weekend used it on my bug bites. No more itch! And they are shrinking by the day. Lesson learned: never, ever throw anything out. I’d better go get those papers back.

I started a new wood project, a bench, and had barely started before the second tool I used wouldn’t work. Fortunately, it wasn’t this operator’s error; unfortunately, the operator of the previous day destroyed two of the three blades in the planer, along with possibly breaking off metal. I got my first lesson with the joiner, but realized after I made two seemly-successful slices that I had set part of my bench right side up and the other right side down. I’ll try again later.

My bird post, which worked fine for a week, has now been figured out by the deer (I assume — I have yet to catch them in the act), and so the birds are finding more seed on the ground than they are in the feeders, which require constant feeding.

My family learned how to manage the Google version of Skype in preparation for our virtual Thanksgiving; virtual is harder when we’re trying to track the failing health of my mom’s older brother in Nebraska. He told his wife he would go to a long-term care facility if she and their seven cats would come along.

And of course I discussed politics with anyone willing to listen, although at this point I feel it’s less about politics and more about the decaying state of democracy. So far the edges are holding, but the middle of that bridge feels pretty rickety.

So there should be plenty of grist for my mill, including that I think — after thousands of lookers — that the lot directly opposite us across the pond has at last sold, but somehow here I am on Day Three, with nothing much for you.

It might snow; that always gives us something to talk about. And I may have an update from work: while we won’t really be opening our back area intended to be a used bookstore, Gilly is determined to have a corner of our existing retail area repurposed as a gifty sort of place including books, our other used items, some of her crafts and perhaps Vann’s artwork, in time for Shop Small Saturday.

Oh. I suppose I could have mentioned Lynn’s quest for a new recliner, as part of her preparation for shoulder surgery next month, and how I am waging war with myself of my long-held notion of supporting local business versus my pandemic-induced notion to keep myself safe. It is very difficult to find Main Street businesses that believe in consistent, constant mask use, and that makes it very difficult to want to shop there.

See? Once I sit down I can find lots to blather about — but finding the impetus to sit down these last three days has been harder. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, besides another all-business Zoom that I hope offers more clarity than last week’s useless cluster did. That could cut into my blogging time once again. So what’s new, right?

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