Dear Dominik

Wahoooo!

Ken Small Engine Repair (that's how he always identifies himself to me) brought my tractor back last night! It was all clean and shiny, and only cost me about $215 more than I estimated. Gulp. This in a month in which I already used up my cushion and am trying to make a tank of gas last all week ...

But I hadda have the tractor. There's a sign along the bike trail labeling a particular area as "Prairie Restoration Area." I've been thinking about snagging a sign like that for my yard.

So the mower belt was broken (the original problem). The drive belt was about to go. The new bearing wouldn't seat because the housing was bad, so he replaced those. In addition ...

Both blades were bent, the mower deck wasn't level, the height was set wrong, and I must always always always keep the top of the mower deck clean because there are vents on it that cool the doomahickeys, and if they overheat the whatchamajingles do bad things. (I didn't know this. I have searched my memory banks for any inkling of Dale saying, "Goddammit Baby, I TOLD you!" but - nada.)

Well. I'm not surprised; we've put that mower thruogh some punishment. And I am glad I had a professional Small Engine Repair guy work on it.

And it works! Ken wanted to chat, tell me about the '53 Ford tractor he's working on now, that was sitting in somebody's garage all these years. I just wanted to mow! It was already 7:30, and I was wondering how much I could get cut if Ken would just shut up and let me get on the tractor!

I raced up and down the front slopes and it was exhilarating. Wahoooo! My tractor works and my prairie restoration project is postponed again!

Misunderstanding

A colleague returned to work today after a couple days' vacation, plus the 4th holiday, so we were catching up.

"I painted my porch trim," he said, "before the funeral."

I felt horrible - I didn't remember that he'd had a death in his family. "Funeral?" I asked, timidly. (Assuming he was having people over after a funeral, which is why the porch needed painting.)

He gave me one of Those Looks.

"Michael Jackson? On EVERY NETWORK?"

Um. Okay. The lengths to which I've gone to miss all that coverage are heroic. My late-shift rotation stations me in the big-screen media room, but I cower behind a cubicle wall, and refused to raise my head even when Debbie insisted I watch the little girl crying.

What I REALLY don't understand is the need to get the painting done before the memorial service started. But, there are people who don't understand the tragedy of missing the start of the Indy 500, too.

Speaking of auto racing, I'm going to Gateway for a NASCAR race next weekend! Did I mention this already?  This time it's not quite free tickets, but a friend of Thelma's has a husband in the military and this is Military Appreciation Day, so very inexpensive tickets. So me and Thelma are goin' to the races! She's never been to a NASCAR race before. I have ... not at Gateway, but at the Illinois State Fair at DuQuoin.

Dale dragged me to this race, which I thought would be dull; I made him promise not to get mad if I fell asleep in the heat of the afternoon (alcohol was involved), but he just laughed. We were with another couple, and Karen and I chose the drivers we were going to root for, so we wouldn't be so bored.

... Within the first 20 laps, we had thrown away our programs and were on our feet, beating on one another and our escorts, screaming with excitement.

So Thelma is looking forward to my "advanced" knowledge of racing - whatever I've picked up from Dale over the years - and I'm looking forward to being with someone who's eager. We should have a blast. (I hope our seats are high enough that we can actually see the track, and not just noisy blurs in front of our faces.) (Must remember the Metallica earplugs.)

Bottle rockets on the bike trail

That title pretty much sums up my Independence Day weekend: rode my bike and saw evidence of fireworks aftermath. I also accomplished the two things on my "Serious Intention" list:

• wash car (harder than you might think) 
• hang up hummingbird feeder

Hey, if Mr. Obama can lower his expectations, so can I.

The car wash was harder than expected because on Friday, road crews had torn up Main Street and the car wash was inaccessible. It rained all day Saturday, and I wasn't about to wash it and then splash road mud on it right away. So things were tense until Sunday, but I got 'er did.

Hummingbird feeder ... last yaer I bought some nectar mix that ISN'T RED, and the hummingbirds didn't seem to like it. And that's all I have left. They still don't seem to like it.

***

Actually, the one HAVE TO on my list was to pick up my nephew at the airport Sunday evening, and that drive was sandwiched between sunset and moonrise - absolutely beautiful. On the drive home, I was facing a huge, very nearly full moon standing out on a sky of blue velvet, close enough to touch.

And then, we saw fireworks! I had been hearing them Thursday through Saturday nights (there are lots of fireworks displays out in the country), but hadn't witnessed any. (Obviously I didn't care enough to get free of the trees.) But we saw a marvelous fireworks finale in the distant sky on our drive - and my HAVE TO turned out to be one of the highlights of my weekend.

***

Because I'm on the rotation schedule to work until 6 every day this week, I decided to get my bike rides in early in the morning, before work. The weather has been so beautiful these days that the morning air is like nectar - RED nectar, because this hummingbird is CRAZY for it! I've been hitting the trail at 6:15, when the sun's not high enough yet to break through the shrub borders, and I only get glimpses of it tickling the higher tree branches. Very few humans; the few I pass murmur "Morning" in a reverent hush. We've had enough rain lately to fill up the creeks, so - besides birds and crickets and so on - my accompaniment is the white shooshing of the spillways, sounding like distant applause.

This is the way to start a morning. I come to work singing, which I haven't done for a long, long time.

And every day there are new bottle rocket wrappers and sticks on the bridges; and I'm not even offended. I smile indulgently - I too have shot off bottle rockets, in my time - and at least the creeks are full and the woods are damp.

Ominous phone call

"Hello, Mrs. O? This is Ken, Small Engine Repair. Were you riding your bike? That's where Gordon said you'd be."

Yep.

"Well, listen, you know that bearing on on the mower deck? It's cut kind of an egg-shaped groove in the aluminum housing. I was hoping a new bearing would just seat right in there like it should, but it dropped right through."

Yikes. I'm thinking, what, my mower is irreparable?

"So I'm calling my supplier, and I'll check with [local dealer], but your cost for this new housing will be $22.50."

Relief comes in waves. (Backup singers sing oooooooooo.)

"With the weekend coming up, it'll probably be Monday before I get the part, and maybe I can have the tractor back to you on Tuesday."

Alas, I cannot mow this weekend. In this extraordinary, pleasant, breathable weather, I am forced to stay idle, drinking lemonade on the deck in my chaise longue, stroking Orange Cat, daydreaming.

MAN, am I glad I don't have a homeowners association telling me what I must and must not do with my property. I might just let it go wild, and become a habitat for small animals (for Orange Cat to hunt). Nor will my neighbors look askance - they're GOATS, they don't care! <flops back on chaise>

Wheels deals

This morning a DJ declared that last week, we had temperatures WAY ABOVE AVERAGE! And now, this week, we're seeing temps BELOW average for this time of year! I wanted to call in and say, "Um, that's why they call it an 'average,' yes?"

In any case, the weather is beautiful, low 80s, low humidity, just lovely. And my bike has a flat. I took it to the local Schwinn Schopp yesterday, where the tattooed gent told me "Tuesday or Wednesday" for pickup. So today, Tuesday, I called on my way home. Some other feller asked, "Did he tell you it would be done today? Cuz we're all backed up on repairs. We probably won't have this ready until Friday."

Friday is a holiday, at the end of a week of beautiful weather. It's a TIRE! I used to watch my DAD fixing bike tires in the garage! Well, until he sent me away so he could cuss.

So I phoned The Touring Cyclist, where I bought the bike some years ago, and they said if I got there soon, they could probly fix it while I waited. So they did, while I did.

I need to learn how to do basic bike maintenance.

***

Meanwhile, I have two other vehicles in various stages of repair (besides Ol' Betsy, who's just out to pasture right now). There's my nephew's car, in my driveway awaiting a windshield; and my tractor, which was whisked away by the Gordon Connection today. And both involved unusual transportation itineraries ...

Matt was flying out of St. Louis to visit his girlfriend, but had a cracked windshield and an aversion to driving at Lambert St. Louis airport. Quick thinking by his mother put the car in my driveway, where Imaginary Lisa's (real) husband is replacing the windshield at the very low Friends & Family price - while I did the airport run.

Kenny was working on my tractor (after saying unkind things about Greg's efforts to fix it.) He got me a belt at wholesale, but when he put it on he noticed a couple other things: the drive belt (of which I DO have a spare) is about to go, and the "quill" is in bad shape somehow. Some bolt that thingy thing thingered and he hopes it's not too bad already because the aluminum housing is thingadingdinged. And one of my blades is on upside down. "Oh, that's GORDON!" I explained. "Gordon put those blades on last year!" Kenny was tickled.

So, I'm glad Kenny's fixing the mower, because it will be FIXED when he's done, not jerry-rigged. I asked him how I should get the belt to him. "Are you gonna be seeing Gordon?" he inquired. I got the impression he thinks I SEE Gordon, whereas I really just sort of RUN INTO Gordon now and then. "I can," I offered. "Well, have him drop it off in my truck," he instructed.

To my house and shed for the belt, and then off to Gordon's house, where he wanted to show off his "new" truck: a 1990 Chevy with power windows, power doors, AC, that he got for $125. What a dealer! I was impressed, so he told me he got a bike, too, for $25, but he's going to get rid of it because he got another bike he likes better.

I ended up buying the bike for R, whose Trek was stolen.

***

All this dealing with wheels meant it took me three hours to arrive home after I left work. Crazy! But I feel good about the progress.

And Matt's new windshield was gleaming in the sunset when I finally got home.

It's all right if you love me - it's all right if you don't

Something inside you is feeling like I do (worn out - Ed.)
We've said all there is to say.
BABY! Break down!
~ Tom Petty and the Destroyers

Break down? Yeah, it's the Further Adventures of Betsy. I don't know if she loves me. Break down, it's all right. (It's all riiiiiiiight.)

Dale's ol' truck and I have a psychic bond. Remember how I planned her last breakdown? This time, I made a mental promise to stop at the Murphysboro Motomart for gas and and oil check. When I changed my mind, she died in the Murphysboro intersection next to the Motomart.

But she perked back up again and we finished our haulage. After reading this piece, submitted by alert reader Nicole, I woke up Saturday thinking, "Ahhhhh. It's 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and THE KIDS AREN'T MOVING!"

Silly me. They have strewn, or maybe strewed, their belongings across so much of Southern Illinois that there's ALWAYS something to be moved - in this case, a washing machine, on loan to a friend who's moving in with another friend, so the washer needs to go back into storage. Could I bring the truck? (Needless to say, the truck - whose tailpipe has rusted off and whose rear bumper is held up with a bungee cord - is not air conditioned.)

But the trip was postponed until Sunday, which turned out to be a lovely, breezy, 85-degree day, perfect for a drive through Little Egypt. Stalling out next to the Motomart was a minor inconvenience, but I was sort of fearful of the drive home - which took place about three hours later than I had intended, into the setting sun and deepening dusk.

Again, I was picking up Betsy's vibes. By the time it got good and dark, her instrument panel was dimming, and I had to flip the brights on to have any illumination ahead of me.

I was very lucky. We made it to a brightly lit Casey's in a booming burg a scant 30 miles from home, where it was possible to get both a cellphone signal and a tow truck. And my AAA rep said I get 100 miles of towing free - so I just rode all the way home in the tow truck.

It was a REALLY COOL TRUCK, one of those tilting flatbed affairs, and I watched with interest as he winched 'er up and chained 'er down. The driver had a bad cold, which he really wanted to share with me (cover your mouth when you cough!), and the assault on my mucus membranes wasn't enough - he turned on country music to offend my sensitive aural membranes too.

Oh well. He did a nice job dropping the truck in my driveway, out of the way of the garage, and then cheerfully took his cold and his country music elsewhere. And I'll get an alternator someday.

Counting blue cars

UPDATE: Zissou showed up. He came in, ate, puked on the carpet, slept with me for a couple of hours, then pawed my face to get me to let him out again.

"So much for romanticizing that relationship," I remarked. Nicole replied, "Yeah. Typical romantic relationship."

***

There are so many things that can only be done early in the morning, in this kind of smothering heat. Removing morning glories from the junipers. Patching the shed. Cleaning out the garage (as if!). My top priority this morning was a bike ride on the cool, quiet Nature Trail. One of these days I'll take a camera and get some shots of this trail, secluded and nearly empty of humans. I could even hear cicadas!

The people I did pass all seemed unusually friendly. One Mexican fellow w/cellphone waved at me vigorously as if we were old friends, and I'd be offended if he didn't greet me. That was ... odd. But maybe I was checking people out more closely than usual, thereby making them notice me.

See, I passed a runner going the other direction - so saw his face clearly - and after we smiled and passed, I thought, "That guy looks like Mike!" Dear old friend that I adore, although we've never been especially close. He went to college in Edwardsville, and still has friends there, so I suppose it could have been Mike. "Probably not," said my brain, but I decided to overrule it: It WAS Mike, and I just passed him on the bike trail! Isn't that cool?

Since we make our own reality, this is now mine. I saw a dear old friend on the bike trail this morning, and it's going to color my thinking for the rest of the day. "I saw Mike!" <sudden smile>

"Okayyyyy," says my skeptical brain ... "did you TALK to him?"

Nah. What would we have said? "OMG, OMG, it's so good to see you, how ARE you?!!!" <snortlet> Consider it said. Simply knowing - or deciding - that we had this unplanned encounter gives me the same feeling of delight. All that's missing is a hug, and dude, we were both too sweaty to go in for that anyway.

The hissing of summer lawns

Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has sown;
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive,
But you'll never know.
     ~ Jackson Browne, "For a Dancer," Late for the Sky

 

For weeks I've been hauling around a bag of "seeding soil" and some grass seed, intending to fill in those tracks in the yard where the water company buried its lines. The deal was, the water company would roll and seed where they installed the mains, but the branch line off to my house was my own responsibility. Well, they rolled the main line - although there's still a mound that I chip away at periodically, on the hill slope, because it's too steep for the lawnmower - but I never saw any evidence that they seeded.

Perhaps, I thought, I was supposed to WATER the grass seeds. Well, I didn't. Nor did I spread the specially formulated topsoil and All-Purpose Sports Turf seed I bought. <forgives self>

So today, I was working from home, when I heard this unholy racket out in the yard. Thinking it was some asshole on a four-wheeler out joyriding, I ran to the window - tore open the shutters and threw up - no, no, that's another story. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Fosterburg Water and their big green John Deere!

I take it they've seeded my yard. I started to go out and offer them cold drinks (98 degrees today), but realized I was in my jammies so I just skulked around inside the house.

Suppose I'll have to water ...

***

In other news, I've really gone off the deep end. Orange Cat hasn't showed up at all in the past 24 hours, although there's a dead mouse in the driveway so I'm sure he's around somewhere. Lately, in this heat, he's been staying indoors all day and out cattin' around all night, but today he's keeping a low profile.

He's such a friendly cat that I often wonder if he's hitting up all the creatures (human, goat, llama, etc.) in his 25-sq-mile territory that might offer him food, whether voluntarily or not. Suddenly, today I wondered if he's lounging around inside someone else's house, enjoying their air conditioning.

AND I GOT JEALOUS.

Crazy Lady Goes On Jealous Rampage, Kills Goat, Cat, Self

"He's not your cat!" she sobbed, incoherently. "Okay, he's not really MY cat either, but if I can't get woken up at 2 a.m. with a paw in my mouth, NOBODY can!"

... Wait. This is another one of those transference things, isn't it? I can't deal with missing Dale, so I freak out over Zissou (whose lifestyle is pretty similar to Dale's, when you think about it).

Someone at work needs a video that I thought I might have archived. Did a search on my hard drive, and found a bunch of videos I'd taken while learning to use the Sony Handycam. Since there was a folder labeled "Nursing Home," I was hoping I might have video of Dale, talking ... but the closest I came was Orange Cat, who sauntered out of view as soon as he realized I was looking at him.

I don't remember losing track of you -
You were always dancing in and out of view;
I must have thought you'd always be around,
Always keeping things real by playing the clown -
Now you're nowhere to be found.
     ~ "For a Dancer," above

 

Decision

Agonizing over this: Dylan is coming on July 2, to GCS Ballpark in Sauget, with Willie Nelson and John Mellencamp. I like them all, although I wouldn't probably pay specifically to see Willie or Mellencamp. (Saw Willie at Crossroads Festival in Chicago. Heart melted.)

I figured, it's not a fantastic venue with overpriced concessions and such - so maybe tickets will be reasonable. (Define "reasonable"? Under $50.) I know three of us - R&E and I - would all enjoy this. But no, tickets are $67.50, and as the only employed one of the threesome, I can't afford three of those suckers.

So I've decided to wait and see if - like so many other things - my employer comes through with free tickets. <opening arms to the sky> Here I am, Opportunity!

I really don't know clouds at all

I've never taken a photo with my cellphone. Not much of a photo taker at all, so the camera in my cellphone hasn't ever really beckoned.

Until today, when I rounded the bend from Broadway onto Chestnut and saw this unbelievable cloud formation perfectly framed by the Arch. I was scrambling for my cellphone; the woman in the car next to me was just staring, slack-jawed.

I pressed the camera icon on my phone, but the light changed and I had to drive. At the next intersection, a woman was taking a photo with her cellphone. "I can DO this!" I coached me. So I pulled over at the next
east-facing exit and tried.

This is the best I could do.

 

I don't really like it, because you can't see all the intricate textures. This photo, with the blaze of sun, is a little too whiz-bang for me,; I liked it better with only the crevices glowing with light. It had this 3D effect.

Here's another try, since I was messing around with settings:

 

I do like the way it looks in black & white, but it's still too soft. The actual cloud in question was very textural, looking like a huge, backlit cauliflower, parts of it very 2D  like a painting, and part popping out in this eye-catching way.

And, breathtakingly, all framed by the Arch.

 

Yeah, that's not my picture. I'm nowhere near that good.

Meanwhile, I've learned how to photograph with my cellphone, how to send images in messages, and how to upload to the Web. It's always nice to learn new things.

So, anyway, there was this cloud ...