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Howdy, strrangers

I kmow, it’s been ages.I had a stroke last year and am confined to bed in a nursing home. My trailer is gone, because this dump is so expensivei. I’m in a room with two other women, one of whom is crazy; she is prone to screaming monologues, or worse, dialogues in which she has both parts.

I will spare you the details,just wanted to let you know I’m technically still alive.

Love
Meg

Today I Had an Adventure! (Or what passes for one these days....)

Woke to a text from GK asking if I'd care to ride with her on a small out-of-town errand in about two hours. I said YES with alacrity. Then I sprang to action...well, as I do it, it's more like the tortoise than the hare. But I managed to find proper clothes and shoes--it's been house-slippers and schmatte since March--and have a bite of breakfast, since GK's text was basically the first thing I saw when I focused my eyes this morning--another term I use loosely--after I got seven hours continuous sleep.

I've started playing one of the ten-hour long rain/thunderstorms available on YouTube, and it makes such a difference. I know it's utterly illogical, but while I don't miss the Florida humidity, not one bit, I *do* miss the rain. For most of my life, I've expected torrential downpours every afternoon at two. Not here. The meteorologists here all say in hushed tones how many tenths of an inch of rain some area may have gotten.

Not today, though. It was a beautiful day, just sky and cactus...no, not actually, except maybe some median plantings, IDK. The horizon is a long way off, because the air is so clear. Those spatterings of rain, though, have greened up the sandy and scrub expanse. There are patches of cultivation, neat rows of green showing a tractor has mowed something--probably chiles.

A couple of her ASFS pals moved from Albuquerque to the nearby town of Los Lunas, where they'll be living with family. She loaned them her dollies (which she's needed for her costuming business, and she freely loans them out) for the relocation and went it out to get it back on her day off, with me.

This was literally the first time I've been out of the house/off the property since early March. So it was a surprise to see some construction just down the main drag--imagine my squee, we're getting a Starbucks! Literally right around the corner from me. Not that I've had a chance to indulge that particular vice much, even before lockdown. But as an agreeable change of scene for a quiet half-hour? Heavens, yes. I can always get enthusiastic about chai. After retrieving the convenience conveyances, she treated us both to Starbucks, huzzah. Had a Smores Creme Frapp--(SBJB, I hold you responsible if Starbucks closes my arteries. I'd never encountered Starbucks until I shacked up with you. But you were a gracious hostess--you tolerated me cooking in your kitchen, and the ever-creeping mass of my stuff.)

Anything, I had cold heavy cream and sugar with velvety chocolate undertones. Heaven in a cup.

All in all, a lovely day out.

Hope you're well. Live long and prosper!

..

You Can/Can't Go Home Again

Nostalgia has overtaken me of late. Today I began by reminiscing about my Dad...who'd be 110 this year if he was still around. He was 50 when I came along--I blanche at the thought of having a ten-year old on my hands at this stage of my life, but he was a good dad. He took me along with him for things like going to pick up his weekly paycheck from Gulf Oli (this was back in the days were a fellow could work for the same company for thirty-five years and retire with an actual watch, a Seiko), or to the driving range to watch while he shot buckets of golf balls relentlessly toward Jersey.

He golfed in a league over at Latourette Park, The Early Birds. He almost made it seem as if the crack of dawn was the only sensible time to play golf...his hardy Norwegian soul didn't mind a nip in the air or a little dew as the world awoke around him.

I never thought to ask how he got into golf in the first place, but I rather imagine it was my Aunt Ruth's husband, a Norwegian rug merchant. My uncle-in-law grew up in Norway and always had an accent. He and Dad played together often--in fact he and Aunt Ruth retired to a lovely neighborhood only blocks from a gorgeous golf course bordered by a green belt where Day and I went for long walks through the woods looking for stray golf balls.

When Dad retired to the Sunshine State, of course, they came down to visit most winters. Most of the Northern relatives stopped by at least once, although I wasn't enamored of all the cousins. Too damn prissy. Most of my aunts' offspring were much older than I--they were in college when I was in elementary school, so I never got that cousinly clique thing.

But knowing how much my dad and uncle-in-law hung out, I can imagine my uncle sawing to my dad, "Harry, you'd be good at this, you should give it a try." Because my dad was an athlete--he was scouted by a pro sorts team in his youth--but because he was a minor, his parents had to consent, and his minister father refused. Said he'd be sinning by playing baseball on Sunday, oh the horror! So golf? Yeah, sure. I never actually went along for a game, but I knew how far he could whack those balls on the driving range!

And then, because the nostalgia was still upon me, I went into Google Earth and looked up the street where I grew up til I was 13. First I had to find it--I haven't been on Staten Island for any length of time since the 90's. Finding landmarks was crazy! There's the Expressway!...follow that...aha! PS 44! Okay, we're getting close! There! That's St.. Michael's! Meaning we're on Harbor Road...okay, wide street, big traffic, that's Forrest Avenue...back up a block. I observed a swathe of green, and clicked.

I was sickened; most of the trees are GONE. What's left is about 40%...still, it's providing a lot of canopy in an otherwise barren street. It looked so tiny for the Kingdom of Childhood. The house, always white trim on grey slate sliding, is now cream on putty. No cars in sight...I wonder who got the house? Who's left of the dynasty I grew up among? Would anyone who lives on the block remember any of the folks I do? Who owns? Who rents?

Of course, the logical next stop was Florida, which was so much easier to find! Highway 528, so south, there's the school, the church...that's where the roads S-curves, I could drive that blind-folded!

Now, here's the thing. Friends have texted me pix of wht it looks like currently. The new owner ripped out every scintilla of vegetation, fruit trees, jasmine vine, ferns--everything! But when I went in for ground view, I felt a spasm of joy. The street-level pix they have are OLD. I can't say with certainty how old, but definitely prior to 2013, because my old Honda is in the driveway. Looking at the jasmine, I'm guessing summer, as it's past blooming. Studying the lighting and taking into account the clouds banked down south, it looks like afternoon cloudburst is due soon. Likely taken right around this time of year...

Yes, the paint was peeling off--was down to the cinder-block in most places...but the foliage was still there--the lotus bush, the jasmine, the loquat, the ferns. There was the brink wall I installed to expand the front porch! Yes, the lawn needed mowing--it always did!--and the trashcans were in plain sight--but even though it was junky, it was my junk. It was HOME in a way this sardine can will never be.

I know the neighborhood was pretty sketchy by the time I left, but I remember the glory days. before it fell to flippers, back when I knew the names of my neighbors because they owned their houses and weren't renters running meth labs and chop shops.

Here the temps are predicted to be in the 90's-100's this week, of joy. The trouble with the desert is, lack of rainfall. I've taken to playing YouTube meditation/music. Most nights I set it to 'Rainfall With Thunderstorm' and let it run for ten hours. Whoosh! Dreamland. How many thousands of tropical nights have I fallen asleep to the sound of rain coming down?

Swamp Thing is getting a house call tomorrow--it's leaking! I suspect it needs new pipes in addition to new pads. I hope it's not going to break the bank! One thing about quarantine--I'm not going anywhere to spend money, so I'm not panicking much.

Apparently, I talk in my sleep--the other day, I woke myself up shouting at someone that "I'm not the US Post Office!" because they asked me to forward something to somebody...I'm still getting junk mail and bullshit addressed to the people who owned this place prior to me--and I've been here for going on four years...ok, three and a half, but still. A while. I wonder if the new tenants of Shadyhill are wondering WTF I am? I'm bound to be on a random mailing list or fifty....

Anyway, here I am. Love to all. Live long and prosper!

...

Oh good grief--I wrote THAT?!

I've come across a historical document--or maybe I mean a hysterical document, although it wasn't intended as such--my very first novella, all 44 hand-written pages of it, scribbled in early 1986.

so far, I've made it through the first 15 pages, cringing all the way. It's the stereotypical 'borrowed from life' first novel and it's dreadfully self-important, dropping names and trying to be worldly. So far, my heroine has been called away from an evening of smoking pot by her best friend, who's had a body deposited in his living room. They've moved the body and now they're sitting around smoking some more and discussing how to track down the killer. (I was a hedonistic 25 when I wrote it, and while I've certainly read worse, it doesn't hold up well at all.)

So far, the only bit that I like is a section where the friend is bringing the body downstairs (to put it into the trunk of the vic's car) and they're almost discovered by some people from a nearby apartment. That's a decent bit of suspense, with the other couple arguing as our protagonists hold their breath. It remains to be seen whether anything else in the tale holds up to that.

Rereading it has a train-wreck fascination, but I don't think it's worth trying to rewrite it-. I dimly recall that there's a car chase later, but although I recall clearly who done it, I can't tell you how it wraps up. I had other plans for those characters, but I'm pretty sure that that ship has sailed.

It's just interesting--I don't think I have much of anything else surviving from my pre-internet days, thanks to The Move--although in my various boxes, who knows?--35 years ago? Lordy, that's a long time! And I should hope that I've improved significantly!

There's always room for improvement--I've been saying for the last decade or so that the best thing I ever wrote is the next thing I'm going to write--but at least now I can usually spot the awkward bits and smooth them over.

I just got through rereading "The Family Vault" by Charlotte MacLeod--golly, I miss her! This was the Nook edition, and there's a forward by Margaret Maron, another writer I've enjoyed over the years and she commented that she'd been utterly cowed after reading TFV for the first time, because it was so smoothly written. And yet, she's an excellent writer herself-- so it's reassuring to know that even professional writers have spasms of self-disparagement after reading other's work!

Love to all. Live long and prosper!*

* I have a node of memory reminding me at I attempted Star Trek TOS fan-fic back when I was 7...probably just as well that didn't survive!

...

This has been going around my f'list, so why not?

You're stuck in quarantine with two people from different fandoms. Who are they, and who "breaks" first?

Nobody is going to be surprised when I say Bucky Barnes, right? If it's canon Bucky, hopefully he's post-Wakanda treatment! I wouldn't mind my canon version, either, because my headcanon has it that he's a pretty damn good cook. Either version, I'm pretty sure he could get me eating right and exercising, one way or another! And I like big band music and old movies--and I'm pretty sure he'd be up for exposure to modern-day sci-fi.

Which leads us to person number two. Considering my health issues, I thought a doctor would be a good idea. My first thought was House, but hell no. Quarantine with that snarky bastard? I'd be taking assassin lessons from Bucky to shut him up. And then--I remembered Dr Edward Marcase. "The Burning Zone" is a fairly obscure fandom from the '90's, but that's okay, they can age-up the good doctor, because Jeffrey Dean Morgan has gotten even hotter as he's gotten older.

I suspect I'd be the one to fall apart--all that testosterone, OMG. But damn, what a way to go!

.

With Love

If he was still alive, today would be my brother Peter's 75th birthday. (Next month, it'll be 21 years since he passed.) I still miss him. Despite the difference in our ages, we were good friends--or perhaps because of it: We didn't have the petty sibling rivalry of kids closer in age. None of thebickering over sharing toys or tattling to Mom and Dad...we did fun things together and I adored him.

In some ways, we were very different: He didn't give a damn about cars and never learned to drive, spent his entire life living in New York City, and had a fondness for coconut shrimp (Ick. To me, shrimp is one of those things that smells great but it's like chewing erasers.). He had a beautiful singing voice..

But the common ground was pretty broad: We both loved mysteries. Sometimes we discovered the same authors independently, others we recommended to each other. I often wish I could tell him about some of the things I'm reading, knowing he would've enjoyed them, too.

And movies! I remember how excited he was about the computer animation Disney used in "Beauty and the Beast" and "Jurassic Park"--he'd be so dazzled by state of the art today! He had tons of reference books about films, and he used to make lists constantly, on yellow legal pads with Flair felt-tip pens. I can still picture his distinctive script as he listed things like roles by an actor, films by a director,, films in a given year--he wasn't tech-savvy and of course, they didn't have smartphones in 1999, but I can't help imagine how he would've marveled at IMDb--I know I do!

I can still hear his rich, deep voice, amused and snarky, and his ringing laugh.

It's hard to believe that I'm now half a decade older than he ever lived to be.

I miss you, Peter. Give my love to the folks.

...

Hunkering down, Day 29

My sciatica hates me, but everything else is okay. My lungs, anyway. I think my shingles are back. Stress.

I'm reading about four books at once...hard time concentrating...I'll start something, read a bit, put it down, do something else, read something else...also working my way those some of the DVDs I've got but have never watched.

Not crocheting at the moment--I still need to assemble my hexagons. Writing sporadically. Occasionally getting a wild hair and organizing. (I think that may what triggered my sciatica--I did some stuff last weekend and it's been giving me grief ever since.) If I clear off the big table, I could do a jigsaw puzzle--I have a few of them, so that's a possibility.

It's Friday--I miss the Swedish weaving group. I even kinda miss LL, although I don't mind the respite from her singing or odd sense of humor. Still, she's generous with her time and got me out and about without as much drama as GK, who was always mentally checking her watch and tapping one foot.

tonight is the series finale for Hawaii 5-O, which I am not looking forward to. I'm not ready to say good-bye...couldn't they just switch things up and bring somebody else if Alex or Scott or whoever is over it? Somehow, listening to Chi McBride doing Arby's commercials just doesn't rise to the same level or drama as Lou Grover being Lou Grover. (I've liked him ever since Boston Public. And House.)

Speaking of House, I caught a couple episodes of it on one of the rerun channels...it reminded me how much I like Hugh Laurie, which reminds me that I've got The Night Manager sitting on a shelf. I saw the first couple episodes broadcast, but not the whole thing, so put that on the list.

There are actual green buds on the trees--spring is here! In the world outside the Sardine Can, flowers are blooming. As glad as I am that I'm not in Florida--that's going to get ugly!--I miss green. I've been tuning in to Adam-12 every afternoon because a) I've loved it since I was about 8, and b) it's set in LA and I get to see palm trees. Golly, I miss palm trees! (I'm also up watching Mannix from 1-2 a.m., because I still love Mike Conners, too.)

I know, I know--all this is less than scintillating...Another six weeks or so and I'll probably be sitting in my chair staring at old episodes of Green Acres and drooling. Which is, of course, preferable to fighting for my life. Sanity is vastly overrated. I'm sure there are a lot of people going more stir-crazy that I am. Honestly, it isn't so much the staying home that's getting me--it's really not that much different than my usual life--it's the not being able to invite GK or LL over to hang, or worrying that any incoming groceries could be toxic.

Right now, the idea of Going Out for ice cream or donuts sounds as exotic as an expedition to Shangri-la. One of my recent acquisitions on iTunes has been Kathmadu, by Bob Seager...Kathmandu sounds peaceful. The rest of the world has gone mad; a quiet retreat where I don't have to be paranoid every single minute would be wonderful. (Cue chanting and temple bells)

Okay, I'm going to take my cheerful self off to read something. Live long and prosper! Love to all..

...

Signs of the Times

So, this afternoon, as I was trying to decide whether or not I REALLY needed to put on a bra to visit my ophthalmologist, I noticed out of the corner of my eye in incoming text (because of course I don't have an alert sound activated--too many cranks). I checked it: It was a reiteration of the governor's "shelter in place" order,

To be on the safe side, I rang up Dr. A's office...oh, didn't I get the message? My appointment has been rescheduled--for SEPTEMBER. September--this six months away! Jesus wept, and I may have a crying jag myself.

I understand why, and honestly, I wasn't looking forward to venturing out into The World. God knows how well they disinfect those buses--or who they've given rides to AFTER it was last cleaned. TBH, I'm fine with continuing to schlep around the house in schmatte, much less talking to multiple people and getting my eyes dilated. I'll just pray (hum along if you're of a mind to) that my retinopathy minds its manners and doesn't decide to act up between now and then.

Last night, I had contact with another human being, IE, the Domino's delivery guy who brought me some cheap but tasty foodstuffs. Not only did I give him a tip online, in addition, I gave him two rolls of Dollar Tree toilet paper. He said it was the best tip he ever got!

Most of the stuff on prime-time TV seems like it's from another time and place, it's so alien to what's going on right now. I'm ready to bundle up all the insurance spokespeople (and that damn emu) and dro-kick them into a live volcano. Except Dean Winter and Tina Fey (but could we at least get a new episode or two?). And I've hated those damn Charmin bears for quite a while...at this point, I want to see a commercial where they go around sharing their stockpiles of TP with their communities and say "We're all in this together.". Set a good example, you little bastards, instead of shaking your ass at the camera and/or having orgies in your living room.

I know, this too shall pass, but my natural pragmatism says so are a lot of people. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

Live long and prosper.

...

Update from Inside the Sardine Can

Tomorrow, lucky me, I get to leave the house. I've got an ophthalmology appointment and if I cancel, the earliest I'll be able to get in is June. My right eye has too many issues for me to play games like that--the last time I was in, Dr. A mentioned the possibility of laser surgery if things got worse...so I need to know how things stand. That way, if things are worse--I know they're not great--I can schedule surgery as soon as things get back to normal...not wait three months to see what's happening.

I've already got the senior bus lined up, I figure I'll bring hand sanitizer with me, keep my distance, and maybe wear the face-shield I improvised out of interfacing. (This is going to be the first time I've been out of the house in almost three weeks, so I'm taking every precaution.)

It's a funny thing, I don't have one iota more time than I do during "normal" times, but somehow, I feel like I'm getting more done. Things are getting shifted, sortied, rearranged...as a result, some things are neater, others less so. I haven't run out of anything major yet (although I can think of a few things I wish I had), and an inventory of my pantry shows I'm decently stocked for a while yet, although I'm sure I'll be heartily OVER tuna fish and green beans ere long and I'm about ready to start baking my own bread.

I've had one scare--GK is the only person I've come into contact with in the last few weeks...she's had a cough she insists are allergies. Imagine my horror when, on Saturday she texts me that she's going for The Test. I was up all night biting my nails over that one, only to have her sheepishly confess that she'd missed her dose of antihistamines and it really WAS allergies. I'm still a little unsettled, because her younger son is home from school--for the rest of the term, oh joy--and he flew back home from California. He's been back for a week now...hopefully, he isn't incubating Covid-19, but we won't know for sure for another week.

Anyway, GK delivered season one of <I>Baa Baa Black Sheep</I>--I binged the whole first disc in one sitting--I couldn't help but think, after she texted me, "What if she's infected? What if the plastic wrap was carrying it?" Somehow, it seemed all too appropriate--Death By Fandom.

Love to all. I hope you're well.

...

Have you washed your hands? The life you save may not be your own.

I've been merrily whistling, "It's the End of the World (As We Knot It) And I Feel Fine". The fact that I haven't left the house doesn't seem unusual. And thanks to my predilection for epidemics, I astutely stocked up on essentials LAST month . This is where Florida Man has it made--we've been prepping to "ride it out" for decades. I have toilet paper, canned goods, baked goods, four gallons jugs of water and a half-gallon of hand sanitizer. Plus, I'm reminding myself that unlike a hurricane, the roof probably won't be peeled off the house, the power ought to stay on and I've got antenna TV so if it's transmitting, I should get it; besides, I'm reasonably sure that epidemics don't have such drastic effects on the infrastructure.

I'm wholly pragmatic about everything. I figure I can stay hunkered down for about six weeks before things get critical. No, I'm not being extreme: I'm turning 60, have diabetes and a heart condition--and I remember all too well the last couple times something settled into my lungs, (That's part of what *gave* me the heart condition.) Some all-new super-strain that nobody has antibodies to? I'll pass, thanks. Due to that list, I'm worried for several people I know in Florida: Mb, SA and Red, all of whom are prone to serious health issues. And if we expand the zone of concern to encompass everyone I know who''s over 55--oh dear!

That goes for the weaving group--although since they're all grandmothers except me an LL, they're probably going to ride herd on the grand kids while the schools are closed, and since the libraries have been closed, I imagine the senior center will be the next to shutter. Eh, I can sit home and crochet. (No fancy stitches, just basic chain/double crochet, self-taught the summer we moved to Florida (1974, three days after 8th grade graduation, and what a goat rodeo that was! The movers didn't show up with our furniture for FIVE WEEKS. I didn't know a soul, and Central Florida in those days..there was ONE Chinese restaurant when we got there, and it closed about a month later. I got blank looks from my new classmates when I told them I really missed bagels. When I tried to define a bagel as 'a donut, but with bread', they looked at me like *I* was crazy.)

I had a bike, though--my folks got it for me as an 8th grade graduation gift a week or so after we got there, and I immediately started riding for miles, exploring. If it was raining, I stayed home and taught myself to crochet. There was a Woolworth at a shopping center a mile away, and got myself a hook and two skeins of yard, bright red and mustard yellow. After that, crochet is one of the crafts I've returned to time and again. These days, I'm making a throw of octagons.

Thanks to GK, I'm going to have something juicy to binge--because I'm pretty well stuck here! I asked her to please pre-invest my tax return in the complete series Baa Baa Black Sheep. That series was my joy in from 1976-78...namely the first season debuted the fall/winter after my mom passed. My dad and I bonded over that and M*A*S*H*...Looking at it now, with the perspective of an additional 40+ years, I can see it's the '70s looking back at the '40s with a strong '70s filter. The nurses, added in season two are trying for the magic of Charlie's Angels TOS, all have Farrah hairdos and wore super-short-shorts..

Anyway, I have a story in mind, but I need to guzzle some hardcore canon first;I figure that's what I'll be doing during the general quarantine. Along with crocheting, sorting clothes--ALWAYS!--crafts, cooking--the usual. (I do regret not getting any Thin Mints this year, but the Girl Scouts with have to do without me this year.)

Stay safe and healthy, my dears. I love you all.

...

Third Saturday of the month

Interesting couple of weeks...delivered flowers with GK last week. That made me a few bucks for the ASFS auction, which was last night. I spent a total of $7--got a few goodies: an insulted bag for shopping, a sequinned tube-top and a sweet little creamer/sugar bowl set. As usual, there were deeper pockets than mine, but that's okay. I got rid of at least twice as much stuff as I brought home, which is helpful.

Not sure if I've mentioned the bookcase situation...found a beauty a few weeks ago. It turned out to have five shelves to insert into it, but only enough pegs for four of them. No prob--I went to Walmart and got another set. Tried to put them in, and while I was trying to get the shelf set, two of the pegs fell out...which wouldn't be a problem, except that back of the bookcase gapped at the bottom, so now there are two keys lodged somewhere behind/beneath the seven-foot tall bookcase that's loaded with DVDs and stuff. My choices are, take everything off the bookcase and move it OR go get another set of pegs at Walmart. I am electing to do the latter.

Gudrun--I have decided that Swedish weaving is not for me. I love the look of it, but I simply haven't got the patience or the eyesight for it. Trying to sew on dark grey-black fabric was making me squint, and it took days just to do a couple rows. I sold it yesterday to another lady in the group--I got $20 for it, and considering it only cost $23 with shipping, I thing that was a not-too-expensive lesson. I may try it again later with the off-white fabric--much easier to see the threads! The weaving group is chill; I'm perfectly welcome to come and crochet and hang out. Likewise, LL, who is very skilled at crafting, has moved on to tatting, and is happily adding contrasting lace trim to a variety of tee shirts.

I'm working on an afghan, which is much more relaxing. It's easy to sit in front of the TV and pop out hexagons--I can do a couple-three every evening. My plan is to make a throw big enough to cover the ugly chair in the living room. The other day, I went out to the shed and single-handedly unearthed the storage bin of yarn I had out there, because I knew it was out there and I was running low on the colors I started with. Very little of what was out there is suitable for the afghan, but I certainly have plenty for other projects!

Decluttering in fits and starts. Got a wild hair the other night and let "The Unicorn" drone on in the background while I reconfigured the other bookcase in the living room. That whole corner needs to be taken in hand, but not until I've got the shelf in the new bookcase so I can get the pile of DVDs off the table (on loan from GK, although I've concluded that I need to acquire one of my own; it's much handier than the old breakfast bar that used to be there. That'll give me a place to set up my sewing machine, for one thing. Or pin and cut out patterns, or arrange afghan squares before joining them, or quilt blocks--you get the idea.

I also saw my bariatric counselor last week. We're very simpatico--she's a reader, so we always have something to talk about. She adored my new tee shirt--a Day of the Dead skull with the legend "Dead Pancreas Society"--which was a surprise gift from GK a few weeks ago. I told her I've been staying busy around the house as well as working out with hand-weights. She asked what had motivated me, and I told her I'm turning sixty this year; I'm beyond middle-age, so if I want to have a decent quality of life for my golden years, I figure I need to get my ass in gear and do it.

She was surprised--said she thought I was in my 40's. Bless you, darlin'! I wish I *felt* like I was in my 40's again! Part of it is the hair--it's short enough that the grey doesn't really show. Some of it is the luck of Scandinavian genetics--I've got good skin. And then there's some truth in the old adage "A woman has two choices as she ages--she can be thin or she can look good". I have minor wrinkles, and more chins than I'd like, but on the whole, I know people younger than me who don't look it, so...could be worse.

Writing...not a lot lately. I've got two largish things in the works. One's a Trixie (although technically it's more Three Investigators, I suppose), about 85% done, while the other is MCU circa 2050. (How would you like to have Bucky Barnes for your potential father-in-law?) that's maybe 40% complete and just getting traction. In addition, there's all the other stuff floating around in my head. I really need a telepathic typewriter, like in that Stephen Kind story!

Speaking of which, there's a guy named Joe Hill, who's Stephen King's son, who also writes really creepy shit--he's got a show on Netflix called "Locke and Key", which is weird AF...I'm working my way though that. I highly recommend it!

Otherwise, life goes on. I hope you're all well, and that the Corona Virus doesn't wipe us all out*. Love to all!

* Although I can think of a few people the world probably wouldn't miss too much.

...

Weekend babble

Wednesday was cleaning, Thursday was shopping, Friday was weaving, and today I rested. Or at least slept in. Then I did two loads of laundry and decluttered the bathroom, which looks better than it ever has, possibly, since I moved in. Just being able to see the top of the vanity helps. Have piddled around doing some writing, throwing a couple hundred words each onto a few WIPS. As with the house, any progress is better than no progress, right?

And I started Gudrun. To explain: I may have mentioned the IKEA throw I got as my next project for my Swedish weaving class. Its name in the IKEA catalog is Oddrun. Gudrun, in contrast, is a Norwegian name; my father had an Aunt Gudrun, one of his father's sisters, IIRC. So, since I'm not quite doing "proper" Swedish weaving, I've renamed the ~~shroud~~ throw in her honor. (Instead of the intricate zigzags of traditional Swedish patterns, I'm doing simple stripes. It suits my eyes and my temperament.)

I was planning to take this weekend easy, because it was quite a week, but getting something like eight consecutive hours of sleep (ordinarily, I'm doing good if I get more than six) worked wonders. Tomorrow's going to be a day of rest, really it is. I have snacks and things for The Big Game (although I'm one of those weirdos who's mostly in it for the commercials) not that I have any skin in the game this year. As long as it's a good game--the only time I ever cheered a runaway game was when it was the Bucs....

And that's what's been going on with me. Love to all!

...

Philosophy and Ibuprofen

So yesterday, GK changed her schedule * again* and decided she could come over today after all. I had her from a little after 11 til 4 (she just left) and my brain is spinning.

First, she set up the table she's lending me and we did the lower kitchen cabinets. That ended up taking less than an hour, and now my appliances are all in one place, baking supplies are all together, plastic ware, etc. There's even some leftover space, although it's in a couple cabinets that are hard to get to anyway.

Next up, the porch. I 'budgeted' two hours for that...we were done well before 2:00. I've got some stuff that's going away--I still need to winnow the actual shelves, but all the stuff that was on top of the long, low cabinet under the window has been boxed up or shelved.

Then, because we have time to spare and I'm a cock-eyed optimist, we went to ReStore. Sing hallelujah, I found a seven-foot tall bookcase to go in the living room, because my DVDs have steadily outgrown the bookcase they were in. $40 and some shoving and cussing later, it's in my living room (the DVDs are all on the table, ready to go on the shelves once I get them in place). The old too-small bookcase is on the porch--there's room, now that GK has removed the headboard that was out there. She talked me into buying it when I moved in, but I never used it; It's the kind with a built-in shelf, which was full of books...she wants it for her son's room, and she's welcome to it.

So yeah, we got a lot done. I'm reminding myself of that, because it's hard not to look around at everything that's moved and freak out. Everything was so nice and tidy and now it's a mess again! Arrgh!

I still need to get the kitchen in order--we were focused on the cabinets, not the stuff on the counters or the table. I need to get the shelves in place in the new bookcase and the DVDs moved in, tidy the rest of the living room, and get busy out on the porch. Plus, y'know, the usual stuff like laundry...I'm just damn thankful that I don't have a pile of stuff on my bed, so when I crash--and I will!--I can just sprawl out on it and sleep. Pretty sure most of that stuff is going to happen tomorrow, because right now, I'm running on empty. I sure am happy, though.

GK brought me a tee I admired on line: It's got a Day of the Dead skull on it with the caption, "Dead Pancreas Society" (diabetes awareness). First new new thing I've had since...well, my winter coat, which I've gotten a fair number of compliments on.

The one unfortunate note of the day was finding out that someone were in high school with passed away a couple months ago--I hadn't seen the announcement on Fb, and I was shocked. The three of us were in the school play together (1979!), and while we hadn't been close in years, we were always friends...she was a freshman when I was a senior, so she was a couple years younger than I am...she had a massive stroke a few years ago, reaction to some new Rx, and was bed-ridden ever after. I'm glad she isn't suffering any more, but it's another addition to the column of "I know more dead people than live ones"--at least that's how it feels. On the other hand, I may not be in the greatest shape, but I've outlasted quite a few folks. It's true: Do not regret growing old, it is a privilege denied many.

Love to all.

...

Monday. Need I say more?

Laundry is happening, including thinning out the pile that's been clogging my hallway for the last couple weeks. This is a Good Thing, since I've had a couple close calls tripping and slipping on it. I'm also endeavoring to answer the question How many black skirts does one woman need?--because I've uncovered three just this afternoon, and that doesn't include the ones in my closet. I'm trying to get rid of any skirts that hang more than four inches below the knee and any tops that don't cover my stomach--that trend a few years ago of tops stopping just above the hip was NOT a good look for me.

I also cooked a very nice dinner. GK gave me a baggie of pork chunks, which I turned into pork tenders by way of coating them with egg and custom-seasoned bread crumbs and baking them while I simmered some pork gravy mix, and nuked a can of green beans and a pouch of 90-second rice. It was very satisfying and I've got leftovers for a day or two.

Am slightly annoyed at GK, who was supposed to be here on Wednesday for the porch clear-out, et al. Except that she's pulled a switcheroo on me for Thursday instead. Why is this problematic, you ask? Because Mr. GK has been out of town and he gets back Thursday, which means I'm NOT going to get her for a whole day, just a few hours and she's going to be looking at her watch the whole time. Grrr. I know, I know, she isn't *required* to do anything--but I do wish that when she says she'll do something that she'd stick with it! And it's a damn good thing that I didn't try to reschedule with my foot doctor for that day as I was planning to, or I'd really be in the soup. It's always something.

Anyway, I need to go clean up the kitchen. I hope you're all having a good week thus far. Love to all.

...

Happy Year of the Rat

Gmail is being stupid and sending the wrong things to my spam folder, so if I'm slow in replying, that's why. I'm not writing, either, although I've gotten a fair amount done around the house. I'm trying to do at least one thing a day, whether it's a load of laundry, clearing out my dresser,or some other form of rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

The living room is looking a lot better, thanks to a visit from GK and then me carrying on after she left. The Xmas decor is packed away for another year, all the flat surfaces are reasonably clear, and GK brought me some plastic drawers to stash stuff in--because like it or not, if I want to do crafting, the living room is pretty much the only space to do it in.

Next on the agenda is the kitchen--specifically the lower cabinets--and then the sunporch. I need to get rid of a metric fuckton of books. There's so much piled up that I've never read, haven't read in 20+ years or is stuff I could look up on the 'net. My goal is to get it to where it all fits on the shelves I already have. Then 'all' I need to do is get rid of the other detritus I've stashed out there and create the little reading nook I've wanted since Day One. My goal is to be able to sit out there with a beverage and a book (or my sewing) during the day, when there's good natural light

Meanwhile, I'm still trying to live out of my pantry for the rest of the month, so I can hang on to a few dollars from my pittance. Thankfully, I've had help--GK has brought me assorted meats--she buys in quantity and sets a pound or so aside for me, LL brought me three bunches of celery (which I promptly chopped, bagged and froze for soups), two ginormous cans of refried beans and some onions, and I got a Honeybaked Ham gift card for Christmas, so I took advantage of a BOGO they had on slices. I've been cooking, and *haven't* been living on fried eggs. Before, I was going through at least two dozen eggs a month--closer to three--and this month, I bought a carton of 18 and there are still ten left.

Stay warm, my friends. Love to all.

...

Greetings, Earthlings! (We're all from the same small blue planet here, right>)

January has been a lot more peaceful than December. December just sucked.

Swedish weaving is consuming a lot of my time. I wouldn't go so far
as to say I'm good at it--like bowling and playing pool, I have more enthusiasm than talent--but it's keeping me busy. If I'm sitting and stitching, I can't nibble, right? I joined a Fb group for Swedish weaving, and one of the posters clued me in that IKEA offers throws out of the same fabric used for weaving, except it's already pre-washed and hemmed! It runs about $16 a yard at Joann Fabrics,, but the IDEA version was almost two yards, shipped, for $23. I told the ladies at the senior center about the group and IDEA, and they loved it.

With GK's approval, I got one of the IKEA throws--its name is Oddrun--in charcoal grey. (It's also offered in 'natural'.) Haven't started it yet; it just arrived Friday morning, just in time for me to take it to the Friday group, and since then, I've mostly been focused on picking up and sorting and decluttering. GK was here Friday morning, and we went through my living room and packed up the Christmas decor. My sewing machine is accessible, which is exciting--it would be nice to get a few WIPs out of the various tote-bags they're stashed in and complete some of them. Not immediately--I'm trying to get organized, and pulling out miles of fabric is no way to do it.

And it's going to take time, because FLH has done a bunk--he blew me off several times in a row and finally sent a text saying he just doesn't have time because of his other jobs. *sigh* But GK was very helpful, and when Mr. GK is out of town in a couple weeks, she's going to bring one of her big folding tables so we can excavated everything from under my cabinets in the kitchen. I've been spending a lot of time in there lately, and not being able to find things is really aggravating. A lot of it just got crammed in wherever because I was trying to unpack, but it's in no kind of order. I've gone looking for things, not found them, replaced them, and then, of course, they turned up. I'm tired of that!

Having put on several horrifying pounds last month, I'm trying had to rein it in; I'm actually cooking something other than ubiquitous fried eggs--it's amazing how many meals a singleton can eke out of a rotisserie chicken with the help of a slow cooker and some canned goods. (This is "Eat Out of the Pantry Month as far as I'm concerned. And the freezer.) GK has been known to bring goodies--she brought me some nice cut-up beef chunks that are bubbling merrily in the slow cooker with some onions, mushroom and kidney beans with a quart of beef broth. With judicious managing, I think I can make it through the rest of the month with minimal outlay on groceries.

I'm not buying snacks--there are plenty of ingredients, the assembly and baking of which tends to cool my ardor for forbidden fruit. The senior center has a diabetes management class running from the end of January to the first week of March...that's on my radar, because I do better if I understand WHY I'm supposed to be doing things a certain way. Just saying "You can't eat THAT!" is like waving a red flag in front of a bull--just watch me!--I mean, I've been dieting since the Nixon administration, but my metabolism was different back then. In those days, I could not eat for a day or two and drop ten pounds. Now, every pound is a hard-fought war...but after everything I went through to get the surgery, I weigh THE SAME, and that's unacceptable, and it's all on me. There's got to be a middle ground between 'Live to Eat' and 'Eat to Live'.

In day-to-day biz, I've scribbled a few short things for prompts, One of the things I have on in the background while I'm stitching is a DVD set from "Great Courses" about the origins of words, which is interesting and is something I can listen to rather than having to watch it. I've gotten five trash bags of clothes out of there, and I know I need to take it farther. My style is evolving, and my closet needs to reflect that. I've also gotten a new set of frames--no lenses yet, tho I have the 'scrip--because the ones from a couple years ago worked fine when my hair was in a bob, I looked like something out of Mary Engelbreit==but NOT with the short 'do. The new ones are black metal, and they're angular which compliments my bone structure.

Anyway, that's what's been going on me with for the last few weeks. Love to all!

...

Tis the day after Christmas

Yesterday was pleasant. First thing I did was open the mailer that arrived from Hermit-- she sent me a leopard print cuff bracelet, in addition to a credit at Honeybaked Hams. Oh yay! I wore the cuff and anticipated the next Honeybaked BOGO. GK came and got me at 10:30 for brunch. (Belgian waffles and mega bacon, yum). I was braced for her to have included some of #2 son's chums, but such was not the case. They were all home with family. (What, they weren't raised by wolves?!)

We all reconvened back at Chez GK--Mr. GK drove his car with the boys) and started gifts with stockings. Had a laugh when mine included two Brita filters (which GK later explained she'd acquired BEFORE I snagged the box of five a while back). Also some pistachios, a utility tool from Ron Jon's Surf Shop, a knit cap and an iTunes gift card,--that made me very happy, since I was down to a 59-cent balance.

After that, we got down to gifts...mostly, that's stuff GK has acquired and addressed accordingly...I'm willing to bet Mr; GK hadn't seen any of it before it was unwrapped. She gave me a Penzey's gift card, which I appreciate even more than the iTunes card--I'd ordered from them on Black Friday, but it didn't go through, so I was resigned to paying out of pocket...and I go through A LOT of Penzey's spices--GK got me well and truly hooked on them.

That wasn't all--she got me a pair of binders with pretty covers, an unlined blank book--funny, I was just looking at blank books at Michaels the other night, a box of yummy almond shortbread cookies that remind me of the Norwegian butter cookies my mom baked every Christmas, and a mirrored sign that says "Cowgirl"...it kind of goes with the horsey decor in my office, though it's not something I'd've picked.

The gift that really made me squeal, though, was the two Pyrex bowls nestled together, in a pattern I didn't have. (I promptly went onto the Fb community Pyrex Passions and posted a pic with the caption, 'Santa brought me Pyrex!').I'd hoped that she was splitting hairs, and she was. When she got back from her trip to GA, she gave me a bowl that she got from her new half-sister and told me she didn't find any more Pyrex in GA. Then she gave me a piece of Glasbake at the ASFS Christmas party...well, it's not Pyrex. So I figured if she could differentiate like that, it might mean she found Pyrex in Florida--and she did! So funny that it had to travel 1900 miles to get to me!

They all played a card game while dinner was cooking. I was on my Nook, working my way through "Best Self" by Mike Bayer, which they've touted on Dr. Phil. I've had it on my Amazon wish list for months, and then on the 24th, it popped up on Book Bub for $2.99. Score!

Dinner was lamb with potatoes and green beans--yum!

Afterward, they were setting up a new computer--I'm still not sure whose--and while they did that, I got GK to set up her sewing machine so I could zig-zag a length of fabric for Swedish weaving. My own sewing machine is stuck in a corner of the living room, behind a portable wardrobe and a bunch of boxes, and heaven knows when I'll get it out. Soon, I hope, but I really wanted to get the fabric ready; I've rediscovered that having something crafty to do when the TV is going is a Good Thing--I'm less likely to nibble, for one thing.

GK ran me home as it was getting dark. I spent a quiet evening reading and noshing. Between a very strenuous Tuesday and Wednesday being somewhat intense, I was tired enough to be in bed with the lights out by midnight. I was tired enough that I actually slept for something like eight hours, which seldom happens these days.

Now, having breakfasted, I've got a load of laundry in (including the Huck cloth) and plan to keep going with a couple more loads today. FLH will be back tomorrow, and I'd like to get as much of the clothes dealt with then, since I won't be able to afford him again until after the 1st.

I hope you all had as nice a holiday as I did. Love to all!

...

Twas the night before Christmas

...And I just woke up from the proverbial long winter's nap. I only got a few hours last night, then today was BUSY. First, LL came by as I was clearing out the fridge, a job I've been delaying for weeks. It didn't smell funky, but it was full of questionable items and there was no room for anything. She ferried dishes into the sink, once I'd scraped them into the trash, then I washed them.

She and I were brainstorming what to do next when FLH showed up. The first thing they got done was, the buffet got raised and moved, hooray, hooray! So I now have +50 inches to maneuver a china cabinet into the other corner. FLH, for all his slender build, is very strong.--I think he could've done it single-handedly.--and together it was done in about fifteen minutes. Mirabile!

As I said in a recent text "My closet has exploded" ever since the great free clothing migration came onto the horizon. My "executive function" skills are sadly lacking--I started on loose clothes in my room, went on to my closet and flung a lot of stuff onto my bed...to the point that I've been sleeping over to once side in an area about as wide as a crib or a cot. we started by moving that into the only available space--the shower--then moving all the clean clothes from the top of the washer and dryer to my bed, along with the contents of three boxes that were stacked up nearby. They were full of stuff I've laundered and folded and lost track of, including two of my favorite skirts--I'm so glad that mystery is solved!

By this time, LL was ready to leave--she had a chiropractic appointment, and I joked that she'd need it. After her departure, I sat on the bed and sorted and FLH put things on hangers and put them in the closet. It was a pretty big pile, but we got 'er done.

I was ready for a break. I went and sat in the kitchen while he took my vacuum and went over the leopard-print area run in my bedroom. Apparently, the ghost of my hair is still lurking--lots of long grey-blonde strands tangled on the beater--but that'll got away eventually. Yet another reason I prefer short hair!

LL came back with Chica, so I could give her her Christmas bag. Quelle surprise, she and FLH know each other--it's always nice when one's friends are friends! I've had too many relationships where one of my pals couldn't stand one of my other pals.

Chica liked her little goodie bag. It wasn't anything extravagant--a couple Pez dispensers and some candy, a little stuffed Curious George (she likes monkeys) a bank shaped like a circus car and a tee shirt. Just things I picked up in my travels that I saw and thought she'd like. She beamed and said, "You know me!", so mission accomplished.

That was a record--the entire time I've lived here, I've NEVER had three other people in here with me--aside from plumbers and the paramedics that time.

The party broke up shortly thereafter...It was past two, and I'd been going full-tilt boogie since around eleven. For a little while I just sat there, then I fixed myself a pastrami sandwich.

The original plan was to go riding around with LL, Chica and other gal to look at Christmas lights, but it was cold AF and had started raining. I had zero desire to ride around in the slop, because a) LL's car is a beater and b) I was practically asleep in my chair watching the news. Called her and canceled, but she was kind enough to stop by and run me down to the mailbox (and gave me a handful of cookies, which finished the job of knocking me out shortly after Jeopardy concluded). It was glorious to have the WHOLE bed to sprawl out on!

Getting to the mailbox was essential, because I was looking out for and received a mailer from Hermit, which gives me something to open in the morning. Big hugs!

Tomorrow's agenda calls for GK coming to pick me up around 10:30, when we and her family will be going to IHOP for brunch. Back to her place from there, where we'll open gifts, and at some point during the afternoon, there'll be dinner. I'm hoping it will all go peacefully and we don't end up bickering about money. (Which has been an issue lately...She's accusing me of over-spending, while I'm annoyed at being chastised for spending my own damn money--nothing outrageous, maybe $80. There's still a lot left for emergencies. Mental health is an emergency, too, damn it!)

So after napping for an hour and a half, I figure I'll be up til the middle of the night. Some of my 'over-spending' was on Nook books, so I have something to read, per the old Scandinavian tradition. I've got some Aldi's chocolate-covered gingerbread to nibble on and I may even throw in a batch of cookies (from the chiller case at the store, not scratch) and If I know what's good for me, I'll do some laundry, too, because sooner or later, I'm going to want to take a shower. If I can find it, I'll probably pop in the George C. Scott version of 'A Christmas Carol'...if not, it's 'Die Hard 2' all the way.

And because it's always nice to get comments and/or kudos, may I recommend 'Bucky's Christmas Miracle'? (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893419) It's part of my 'JB in the Tower' verse--the one that OTP's him with Maria Hill. I finally sat down and got them all strung together in something like chronological order (which has nothing to do with publication order.) This is the installment where he finally remembers Steve, just in time for Christmas, and shares with Maria the story of how they first met as kids. It's seasonal, but because everyone is fixing to lose their minds over Yuletide, it hasn't been getting a lot of love.

I hope you're all having a delightful holiday (whichever one you prefer). Love to all! Cool Yule, y'all!

...

Last night, I dreamed my soul as a house

My husband and I bought a house that we'd only seen from the outside. It was a super deal and we both loved the neighborhood--we had friends there, I think, so we knew the amenities. I have no idea who my husband was, he never actually appeared on stage. The more I think about it, the more I suspect he's actually my masculine side.

For me, the lure of the place was its architecture. One side of it was like an old gas station, a streamlined combination of Art Deco and Mid-Century Modern, while the other side was sort of a Victorian cottage. I walked up to the place from nearby. The neighbors across the street had a dog that barked and followed me from a distance. I gave him the nickname 'Fuss-Fuss'.

The gas station side was open and renovations had started. There were contractors there when I got to the house. I introduced myself as the new owner and mentioned that this was the first time I'd actually been inside. The realtor was there with the keys, and we went into the courtyard between the two halves of the building. At one end, there was a huge flowering tree covered in sunflowers--I know, sunflowers don't grow on trees, but apparently my subconscious doesn't care about such botanical distinctions. The courtyard was magical--it was paved with smooth cobblestones, There were planters and window-boxes of flowers and a fountain in the center with a low wall that was just the right height to sit on. On one side, the Art Deco building had portholes and ledges (very Miami Beach-looking), while the Victorian side had hammered bronze awnings over the mullioned windows--one of them had a design of a sun and moon and a Venus of Willendorf--with the kind of patina you get when metal has been oiled--slightly iridescent in the sunshine.

We entered via the door next to the window with the canopy, and the room was floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It was completely filled with books, and I was excited, looking forward to seeing what I had. I recognized Virginia Lanier's 'Bloodhound' series and was preparing to compare them to my own copies and keep whichever ones were in better shape. There were also piles of romance novels on one side of the room. I turned to SBJB (who had appeared and was walking along with me) and said, "Everybody I know is getting a media-mail carton of bodice-rippers this Christmas!"

We went into the adjoining room, which was quite different. It looked like a narrow one-car garage or repair bay--there was a roll-up door at one end--but it had rock posters on the wall and a lot of motorcycle stuff. I always wanted a car-themed game room, and I looked around planning how I could make that work here.

The second story...from the outside, the roof was scalloped metal like fish scales, with a patina. It was like a curved barn roof with a bunch of wrought-iron-type trim running the length of its spine. Inside, the only way up to it was a very narrow staircase and it had two modest windows, one at either end, and I was wondering how the hell we were going to get any kind of decent-sized bed up there when I woke up.

I can be impulsive; if I had that kind of money, I can imagine buying a house just because I fell in love with the architecture. The way I see it, I love old stuff and older stuff, hence the two sides of the place. The courtyard marries those two aspects; it was charming, someplace I could see myself sett;ling down with a book and a snack, outdoors, but not a space that's going to require a lot of mowing and maintenance.

The two rooms I got a good look at are two things I love best: books--I can't begin to count how many hours I've spent in used bookstores in my lifetime!--and cars. I've had that car-themed game room in my head for decades, refining it as I see cool ideas. I think it's relevant that those were the rooms I toured in-depth. I got a glimpse of the common area in the Deco half--open plan with a good-sized space for a living-dining area and an open kitchen at the back--that was all MCM, but I didn't linger to admire it, because that was obvious. It's like the face you present to the world, while who you are when your at home, when you're by yourself is different. Does that make sense?

If that's the case, than the 'realtor' may have been a therapist, unlocking doors for me into my psyche. S was a realtor, but she was never that unobtrusive in her life. This lady just guided me through the rooms, which I gather is the purpose of a therapist, to guide, but let you make the discoveries by yourself. I'm not sure why SBJB showed up. I don't recall her saying anything--although she's a very good listener and easy to get along with--but she DID help me send a number of large boxes of things media mail while I was relocating, so maybe that's it.

It was a really sweet dream. That courtyard! I think that's going to be my new Happy Place. Not to mention a room with tons of shelves (Enough room for ALL my books, for once in my life!) and the potential game room...smaller than I had in mind, but with the right accouterments, still plenty of fun to be had...I'm scaling down some of my dreams as I get older, so that's definitely a metaphor for real life. I suspect that the bedroom issue reflects my general indifference to sex at this point--something of an afterthought. Never mind that! Let me show your our marvelous MCM home with a lovely long view of treetops and tiled roofs and the sea in the distance!

My invisible husband...at this point in my life, I have no especial desire to acquire a husband...(in this scenario, I was 40-ish), but if I did, I'd certainly prefer one who'd indulge me with gifts of eccentric real estate and not pester me with demands for sex. That's these days; I felt rather differently about the subject at 40, and I had the impression that we were a very cozy couple. Wish fulfillment, I suppose.

And now to rustle up some breakfast! I wanted to get this down while the details were still vivid.

....

That was a close call!

Didn't leave the faucets on last night and the pipes froze again. (Fuck winter!) Discovered when I went to flush and nothing happened. Cranked the sink taps and crossed my fingers that it would warm up enough to thaw, which it just did.

That had me sweating bullets--I really didn't want to admit my problem to GK--and I particularly didn't want to go without a shower before riding around with her doing flower deliveries on Thursday. (I'm hoping to clear enough for a new Brita) To say nothing of not being able to flush, which is kind of crucial

But...crisis averted.

...