Anyone who knows me is aware of the fact that I loathe Daylight Saving Time. It doesn’t save anything. The sun is still up there the same number of hours. Sure, it gives the illusion that there’s more daylight in the afternoon but that’s just it—it’s an illusion. It’s one some people like but I happen to prefer to go to the track when the sun has made it over the mountain. I’m solar powered and I’m not at my best when I’m walking in the pre-dawn.
Speaking of walking, I made it to the track only twice in the past week. Monday, I got there so late I only got in one mile. A measly six laps before I had to head out to find a bathroom. Tuesday, I was late again (maybe because it was almost still dark when I left the house?) but managed 10 laps. That’s a mile and a half plus 1/6 a mile. The rest of the week it was raining and yesterday, it turned blue cold. I did BodyFlex and rebound Wednesday and Thursday but I was too contrary yesterday to do anything.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Last Sunday, after DD and I had our visit, I’d intended to wash sheets and hang them on the line but I opted, instead, to clear out the rest of the square foot boxes. It was a job to pull up the giant tomato plants but I was rewarded with some yummy tomatoes that I munched on as I worked. Freeing the plants from the cages was a project in itself but I got ‘er done. Then I went to the other box and got what onions I could find and put them on my neighbors’ steps. I’d put off pulling up the arugula and I’m glad I did. I discovered it had self-seeded and I have quite a nice bed of it. I’ve had several salads with it as an addition and it survived the hard freeze we had last night as did some volunteer dill that has come up in one of the smaller boxes.
My cherry tomato plant kept blooming and putting on fruit right up until last night. I’d picked all the tomatoes I could find amid all the foliage on Thursday. Last night fried it. Tomorrow, I’ll have to get out there and put it out of its misery. This time of year is so sad—except my circadian rhythm will return. For that I am grateful.
Getting back to the time change, yesterday I was listening to the radio on the way to work. I heard this news story. Russian president Demitri Medvedev says he sees no point in turning the clocks back and forth. I wish the politicians in this country could see things his way. I keep chasing that lost hour all summer and finally get it back in what used to be October and now it’s November.
Maybe if there had been more light early yesterday morning, there wouldn’t have been a disaster on the mountainside. As I was driving peacefully along, the driver of an oncoming truck flashed the headlights at me. I didn’t know what was going on but I kept my eyes peeled. Coming around a curve, there was an emergency vehicle parked on my side of the road. A man was barely visible in the rainy dawn. He was motioning me on. As I rounded the next curve, I saw the problem. A car was on its top next to the bank. I made my way on down the mountain with a renewed respect for the wet pavement. Who, what, how, when, why was never answered.
Wednesday was my neighbor’s birthday. I called her cell phone and sang happy birthday to her. She said it was the first phoned in wish she’d gotten.
Work was work all week with yesterday being more work than usual. I had to put on my accounts payable hat and cut the checks to cover the nursing home payroll. There was one payment to a vendor that wasn’t yet set up in the system. Rather than have the regular person walk me through it, the People Who Make the Decisions said it could wait until Monday. Thank goodness!!
My friend in the nursing home had to have some dental work done that left her in a lot of pain. She was too out of it to play Wordscraper for more than 24 hours. By the way—that game she was so far ahead I said never the twain would meet on the progress graph? Well, it did and I managed to win by a few points. The next one was about as close with her winning but the current one has me so far ahead, I don’t think she will ever catch up.
Regular updates of my sister in the Great Northwest have been coming in from her most excellent caregiver. I can email messages to my sister using the caregivers address. She enlarges the font and prints them off so my sister can read them. It’s a far cry from before when all I could do was wonder. The woman is a gift from God. She is taking good care of both my sister and brother-in-law.
Another sister had a passing-out episode this week. The doctor in the ER thought her blood pressure had bottomed out because nothing showed up in the results of a wide range of tests that were run. When the x-ray tech asked her if she were pregnant, she said, “Honey, I’m 82 years old. Now if I were Sarah in the Bible that would be a reasonable question.” When I read that, I laughed until I cried.
Last night’s freeze made my bed extra inviting and I didn’t want to get up this morning. Twinkle was outside the door mournfully meowing until I finally pulled myself from the warmth and gave her something to eat. I ordered her Fancy Feast from Amazon this time. She only has it once a week and I found that I can get it from there cheaper than I can locally. She has about a year’s supply now.
It was 54 in the church when I went in. I’d gone prepared with my long johns and turtleneck under my dress and I wore my winter coat. I put on my fingerless gloves to play the organ. No one could figure out how to turn on the heat—again. I’d taken a hymnal I rarely use and was leafing through it when a terrible odor came wafting through. I thought it was coming from the hymnal at first and then it kept getting stronger. It smelled like something was on fire and I was about to dash up to get my purse and get outta there when someone said it was the wall heater that someone had turned on for the first time in months. I failed to check to see what the temperature was when I left but it had finally warmed up enough for me to take my coat off.
This afternoon, I have been in a marinating mood. I fixed my marinated cucumbers and marinated Brussels sprouts. The latter are in the dehydrator and perfuming the house until I covered the bowl with wrap. They were starting to dry out.
Well, dear folk and gentle people, that’s enough for this time. I’ll bid you a fond adieu until another week has rolled around.