Independence Day Eve
Periodically I think I'll post about something at some length, if not depth. Today, for example, my chain slipped off as I was biking on the lower West Seattle bridge after work. This is the second time this has happened in the last few weeks, which in itself is a little odd since it hadn't happened at all for goodness knows how many years. But I've been more absentminded in my shifting lately, maybe, or maybe the chain and/or gears are getting old and cranky enough to be less forgiving. Regardless, the chain slipped off a few weeks ago on an unexpectedly wet evening when I was already in a bad mood and again today when it really wasn't a big deal. In both instances I was able to put it back in place pretty readily. But in both instances I was offered assistance by passing cyclists. That time in the wet a few weeks ago three different people slowed down or stopped to ask if I was okay. Today, when I had the chain back on in under a minute, one cyclist slowed to ask if I had everything I needed as I was standing next to my bike, wiping my greasy fingers on the old cloth I wisely carry with me. Maybe it's that I'm a certain age or maybe it's the fraternity (siblingity?) of cycling, but it's darned nice. Those who feel that people just ain't no good should, perhaps, throw a chain on the low bridge once in a while.
So that's one thing I'd post about if I were taking the time to post. Less jolly would be a rant about Shiga's and their website that lists Sunday hours when, in fact, they are closed on Sundays. That made for an annoyingly pointless zipcar trip on a very hot afternoon a few days ago. (Looking more attentively at the website now, I see that those are "holiday hours" that include Sundays. I guess I owe Shiga's an apology. Of sorts.) Instead I'll mention that the zipcar was useful in getting 20+ pounds of apricots home; I just hope that the ice they've been on for the last few days has done its job so that we have semi-decent fruit with which to make jam tomorrow. Because nothing says celebrate revolution and independence like working in Mme. Gradka's Kitchens. At least the temperature has dropped somewhat.
Mme. Gradka herself graciously posed for a snap on the newly covered cushions on her lounger this morning. I am, undeniably, quite pleased at how nicely this latest experiment in domesticity turned out: I followed Eli's suggestion that I think of them as giant pillowcases though adding the clever ties was my own idea. Very likely I'll regret having used cotton rather than canvas fabric but, for now, they look quite lovely. As shown here:
Gradka on the newly covered lounger cushions.
I will be very sad that I haven't tracked my reading on LJ come the end of the year. I've not been anywhere near so prolific, if that's the word I want and I think it isn't, as alexfandra but I wouldn't mind remembering what I read three weeks ago. It seems like I'll be stuck in The Black Book by Orhan Pamuk for quite some time yet.
While I've not listed birds here, I have been keeping a record in an actual lab book. It only tracks particular species seen each day, though. Only here do I record for posterity that there are definitely at least two osprey chicks in the nest at last and that there was a very demanding peregrine falcon fledgling by the bridge a few days ago who was very upset that it had to sit watching its parent eat a pigeon without, seemingly, being offered a bite itself.
So that's one thing I'd post about if I were taking the time to post. Less jolly would be a rant about Shiga's and their website that lists Sunday hours when, in fact, they are closed on Sundays. That made for an annoyingly pointless zipcar trip on a very hot afternoon a few days ago. (Looking more attentively at the website now, I see that those are "holiday hours" that include Sundays. I guess I owe Shiga's an apology. Of sorts.) Instead I'll mention that the zipcar was useful in getting 20+ pounds of apricots home; I just hope that the ice they've been on for the last few days has done its job so that we have semi-decent fruit with which to make jam tomorrow. Because nothing says celebrate revolution and independence like working in Mme. Gradka's Kitchens. At least the temperature has dropped somewhat.
Mme. Gradka herself graciously posed for a snap on the newly covered cushions on her lounger this morning. I am, undeniably, quite pleased at how nicely this latest experiment in domesticity turned out: I followed Eli's suggestion that I think of them as giant pillowcases though adding the clever ties was my own idea. Very likely I'll regret having used cotton rather than canvas fabric but, for now, they look quite lovely. As shown here:
Gradka on the newly covered lounger cushions.
I will be very sad that I haven't tracked my reading on LJ come the end of the year. I've not been anywhere near so prolific, if that's the word I want and I think it isn't, as alexfandra but I wouldn't mind remembering what I read three weeks ago. It seems like I'll be stuck in The Black Book by Orhan Pamuk for quite some time yet.
While I've not listed birds here, I have been keeping a record in an actual lab book. It only tracks particular species seen each day, though. Only here do I record for posterity that there are definitely at least two osprey chicks in the nest at last and that there was a very demanding peregrine falcon fledgling by the bridge a few days ago who was very upset that it had to sit watching its parent eat a pigeon without, seemingly, being offered a bite itself.