Dragonfly of Trill
Apr. 2nd, 2025 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI must need more sleep or something. Or maybe it's the weather. Last night I was too tired to blog, and I forgot what, if anything, happened. Oh yeah, Zoom with Deb and the Prussian. Also an evening with the women's group where we very belatedly celebrated the birthday of Math Fairy. Ice cream is her thing of choice, which suits me nicely.
It started raining last night and went on throughout the night, along with wind gusts and thunder. Presumably due to some combination of the three, the power went out for about an hour, but it was on again in the morning, so no harm done, except that all the clocks had to be reset. It continued to rain heavily, and the wind blew, and although it was technically above freezing, it was very cold. My vigilant ears detected a suspiciously regular tap-tap above the rattle of the rain. Sure enough, a point in our ceiling was leaking. I put a bucket under it, and the Sparrowhawk made an appointment for the roofer to come and take a look at it on Friday.
Thinking it might rain a lot, I had taken the precaution of asking the Sparrowhawk to bring a couple of muffins and things when he went out yesterday to get more half and half. This morning I was confirmed in my suspicion that it would be no kind of a day to take an octogenarian out. so I took a couple of rolls and got some lattes on the way to visit Madame. She was, as usual, startled yet pleased to see me. She said she'd been sitting in her chair all morning, half-asleep, watching the rain fall. She remarked several times on how it just kept falling. We shared a Danish and drank our coffee and enjoyed NOT being out in the rain. She agreed to have her lunch brought on a tray only if I agreed not to leave! I had no intention of doing so. It was my plan all along to sit and chat with her while she ate what I must say was an awfully unappetizing meal. The stuff they feed people in this place is terrible. She offered me a dish of baked beans and asked if I liked that kind of thing. "Not really," I admitted. "Do you?" She shook her head and asked me to put it in the refrigerator "for later." I have a feeling the refrigerator will be the graveyard of those beans, a final resting place from which they will never emerge. In the course of our conversation, I learned that she had forgotten when her husband died. I looked up his obituary for her and told her. She asked if I could write that down for her so she won't forget again. I told her I'd print it out and bring her a copy next time I come.
The rain finally cleared up enough for the Sparrowhawk to go to the gym. While he was gone, the day ended with a tappity-tap of a different order. I went to the door and saw Daisy, the youngest of the three neighbor girls. She presented me with two neatly tied boxes containing four chocolate cookies each. She said she made them for a school event, but had some left over, so she was giving them to the neighbors. Perhaps it was a thank-you for buying her flowers, pies, and other fund-raising offerings! In any case, it was very charming of her.
It started raining last night and went on throughout the night, along with wind gusts and thunder. Presumably due to some combination of the three, the power went out for about an hour, but it was on again in the morning, so no harm done, except that all the clocks had to be reset. It continued to rain heavily, and the wind blew, and although it was technically above freezing, it was very cold. My vigilant ears detected a suspiciously regular tap-tap above the rattle of the rain. Sure enough, a point in our ceiling was leaking. I put a bucket under it, and the Sparrowhawk made an appointment for the roofer to come and take a look at it on Friday.
Thinking it might rain a lot, I had taken the precaution of asking the Sparrowhawk to bring a couple of muffins and things when he went out yesterday to get more half and half. This morning I was confirmed in my suspicion that it would be no kind of a day to take an octogenarian out. so I took a couple of rolls and got some lattes on the way to visit Madame. She was, as usual, startled yet pleased to see me. She said she'd been sitting in her chair all morning, half-asleep, watching the rain fall. She remarked several times on how it just kept falling. We shared a Danish and drank our coffee and enjoyed NOT being out in the rain. She agreed to have her lunch brought on a tray only if I agreed not to leave! I had no intention of doing so. It was my plan all along to sit and chat with her while she ate what I must say was an awfully unappetizing meal. The stuff they feed people in this place is terrible. She offered me a dish of baked beans and asked if I liked that kind of thing. "Not really," I admitted. "Do you?" She shook her head and asked me to put it in the refrigerator "for later." I have a feeling the refrigerator will be the graveyard of those beans, a final resting place from which they will never emerge. In the course of our conversation, I learned that she had forgotten when her husband died. I looked up his obituary for her and told her. She asked if I could write that down for her so she won't forget again. I told her I'd print it out and bring her a copy next time I come.
The rain finally cleared up enough for the Sparrowhawk to go to the gym. While he was gone, the day ended with a tappity-tap of a different order. I went to the door and saw Daisy, the youngest of the three neighbor girls. She presented me with two neatly tied boxes containing four chocolate cookies each. She said she made them for a school event, but had some left over, so she was giving them to the neighbors. Perhaps it was a thank-you for buying her flowers, pies, and other fund-raising offerings! In any case, it was very charming of her.
