Day After Solstice
Jun. 22nd, 2022 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoThis morning I got up and ran around trying to fix that pesky hose. Which meant putting on tape, going across the yard and through the gate to turn the water on, checking the repair, which had not worked, turning the water off, trying again. Etc. etc. I used up all the Gorilla tape. It really doesn't work as well as they claim on TV. Just sayin'. But no matter how much I taped it, the water just came out the sides with similar vehemence. I had no more time, because I had to go meet Madame for lunch. I asked the Sparrowhawk to let it run until it was time for his piano lesson, and then turn it off. Then I hastily showered and dressed and went to the appointed spot--the restaurant by the lake. We had planned to do that for a change, if the weather was nice. Knowing that she was likely to forget, I told her I'd text her to remind her, and I had. Twice. However, when I got there, she didn't show up. I tried calling her, but got no answer. I thought she MIGHT be at the bookstore, but there were many other possibilities, so I decided to go home and await developments. I was just about to call her again when she called me. She sounded quite put out, and couldn't hear what I was saying. I got her onto FaceTime so she could read my lips, and explained. Once she realized it was her mistake, she was somewhat mollified, and agreed to give it another try. So back to the restaurant we went. It's very close to both of our houses, so really not a big deal.
I was able to get a nice table in the patio room, which on a day like today was open to the deck outside, and had a lovely view of blue water and green reeds. I asked the waitperson please to look out for an older lady with a cane, who might be looking confused, and bring her to me. I was a little worried that I might get a whole flock of 'em, but fortunately there was just the one. We had a nice lunch. She told me about the time she went to Europe with a friend in the 70s, bought a VW in Hamburg, and traveled the back roads for six weeks. I also learned that she was old enough to have visited the spot where we were when it was still a public beach house, and you could go swimming. I wish it was still like that! I feel sad that lunch with me is apparently such an important feature for her. I'm not really all that thrilling. But I provide what amusement I can.
I went home, wrote another 500 words, cut up the last of the strawberries, had some leftovers for dinner while the Sparrowhawk went to the gym. Then I finally got started on my packing. I found the one shirt I'd been unable to locate, and really wanted. Naturally, it was right where I'd looked for it ten times. There's more to do, but I feel semi-organized. If I had to leave in an hour, I'd have the basic necessities of life. I completed one more small task as well: copying the last of the special cake recipes out of an old notebook onto index cards, so I can file them and move the notebook into the attic with the rest of its kind. However, this meant hefting the notebook in my hands and looking into it, and thus revisiting the past. 2001. That was quite a year. Ah, melancholy. Walking away, walking away, la la la . . . . Back to the attic with you, volume #whatever of my unfinished life!
I was able to get a nice table in the patio room, which on a day like today was open to the deck outside, and had a lovely view of blue water and green reeds. I asked the waitperson please to look out for an older lady with a cane, who might be looking confused, and bring her to me. I was a little worried that I might get a whole flock of 'em, but fortunately there was just the one. We had a nice lunch. She told me about the time she went to Europe with a friend in the 70s, bought a VW in Hamburg, and traveled the back roads for six weeks. I also learned that she was old enough to have visited the spot where we were when it was still a public beach house, and you could go swimming. I wish it was still like that! I feel sad that lunch with me is apparently such an important feature for her. I'm not really all that thrilling. But I provide what amusement I can.
I went home, wrote another 500 words, cut up the last of the strawberries, had some leftovers for dinner while the Sparrowhawk went to the gym. Then I finally got started on my packing. I found the one shirt I'd been unable to locate, and really wanted. Naturally, it was right where I'd looked for it ten times. There's more to do, but I feel semi-organized. If I had to leave in an hour, I'd have the basic necessities of life. I completed one more small task as well: copying the last of the special cake recipes out of an old notebook onto index cards, so I can file them and move the notebook into the attic with the rest of its kind. However, this meant hefting the notebook in my hands and looking into it, and thus revisiting the past. 2001. That was quite a year. Ah, melancholy. Walking away, walking away, la la la . . . . Back to the attic with you, volume #whatever of my unfinished life!
especially during the pandammit
Date: 2022-06-23 06:50 am (UTC)providing a tent peg is a valuable service. here is a thing that happens with somebody i know i like. cognitive decline is a thing, and the lunches alleviate it some.
it's important work. thrilling is overrated.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-23 02:13 pm (UTC)