Cop Car's Beat

Yard work is forever

Although it has been a couple of weeks since I've gotten out into the yard and done a lot of work, little-by-little a modicum of yard work is getting done in preparation for the winter season. Yesterday, I got around to pulling up the last of our massive cantaloupe vines and our taking-over-the-world sweet potato vines that had resulted from my discovery of a too-late-to-eat sweet potato in our vegetable bin a few months ago. I had stuck it into the ground at one of the corners made by the front foundation of our house. I had never before planted a sweet potato and was moderately surprised to find a fine harvest of the tubers when I pulled up the vines.

From articles found online, I understand that I am to let the tubers cure (under warm, humid conditions) for a week or two. We don't have ideal temperature/humidity conditions under which to do this but will try to consume them before the tubers develop mold. Neither of us has discerning enough taste buds to recognize the difference in taste between a properly cured sweet potato and one that is straight out of the ground. ADDITION: That night we had the next-smallest sweet potato (microwaved, cut into chunks, and lightly buttered) for dinner and it was wonderful. [Although my normal practice is to serve Irish potatoes with skins on, I excavate the flesh from within a sweet potato skin.]

Continuing to clean house - Going through mementos

When I moved back to Kansas in 1990, I had little time to pack up my temporary dwelling in California, drive my 1982 Mazda 626 to my home in Albuquerque, arrange with a broker to sell my house, pack up documents from my work office, pack up documents from my home office, pack the 16-foot rental trailer, drag the trailer to Kansas with my 1972 Buick Electra, unload at Hunky Husband's home/garage, and report to my new job.

Elder Brother (who lived a 90-minute drive away, in Santa Fe NM, at that time) took on the task of properly loading the trailer for me, or I might still be working at it. There were 20-some boxes - just counting paperwork (none of it classified) - that sat around for years and years. When the house sold, I flew back to Albuquerque to have a moving company load up my furnishings and drive back to Kansas in the Mazda. 

Those boxes sat in HH's basement for 10 years. In the largest room in our current house, the "pool" room in the basement (so called because I had expected to buy another pool table for HH), after retiring in 2004, I sorted through the mementos that had accumulated over the years, and those boxes of paperwork from Albuquerque. I placed the "stuff" that I kept into banker's boxes - stored on a set of 5-shelf metal shelves in the pool room. Goodness knows how much I threw away in that process. Obviously, it wasn't nearly enough.

And, oh BTW, did I ever tell you of my lifelong habit of saving every card and every letter that I ever received from friends and loved ones? Those cards and letters went into the banker's boxes, too.

Each stored banker's box was labeled with the decade from which its "stuff" had come. A year ago, or so, I had sorted through the boxes labeled "1920s - 1950s". In more recent days (a couple of weeks ago) I started going through the boxes from the 1980s. I just finished that task. It takes a long time to read each card and letter, data mining to an Excel database, and pitching or assigning each item from our daughters (and families) to be returned to the appropriate daughter: Dudette or Bogie.

The above photo shows sorted piles of cards and letters from the 1980s as they appeared half-way through the job. (The largest pile comprises cards and letters that I had received from HH.) I'm not sure that I have hopes of getting through all of the banker's boxes in my lifetime. Cross your fingers for me.

P.S. Sweet (and sometimes sad) memories were elicited in the process of sorting through this "stuff". Next, I'll tackle the 1960s and 1970s.

Continuing to clean house by giving away books - Part 2

Added: 9/28/2023

More books to the library.

Original Posting: 9/24/2023  10:25AM

These books (photos, below) went to the Derby Public Library, Friday. Yay!

A day brightener

Obviously, this late in the day (9:45am), I've been up for several hours and accomplished part of my day's planned activities: washed/dried/ironed two large tablecloths, washed/dried/folded our bedding from the bedding change of yesterday, checked emails and blogs, and picked up our order of groceries. OTOH: With Alzheimer's, Hunky Husband needs about twice the sleep that I get, so he is sitting in his reading chair with the morning newspaper - trying to work up the energy to get washed up and dressed to mow the back yard. Therefore, I am again sitting at my computer - mostly just messing around. I happened by the Reddit Pics website where a posted photo led me to Via Satellite with a little more information about the Reddit photo. The subject is the swearing in of Charity Weeden to lead Technology, Policy, Strategy at NASA.

The poster on Reddit Pics asked that we note the book that Ms Weeden is using on which to be sworn in.

That gave me a chuckle - always welcome in the early part of my day.

Butterfly bush is living up to its name

There is a flurry of activity around our one, remaining, butterfly bush this morning.

The first photo shows a cluster of blossoms on the bush, at its finest. The second photo shows one of the butterflies that I call a Hackberry Butterfly since we have an abundance of Hackberry trees in our woods. That identification is subject to anyone's correction, thank you. The third photo shows a Fiery Skipper Butterfly, the identification of which is also open to correction. Most of the butterflies were Hackberries with just a couple of the skippers and one Monarch that flitted off before I could come inside to grab my phone, and return.

The milkweed in our mini meadow has shed its leaves, so there is nowhere for a Monarch to lay eggs in our yard. I noticed in pulling up the remainder of our dillweed plants the other day that there was one swallowtail caterpillar on one of the desiccated stalks. Sorry, little guy, but the deli is closed for the year.

Speaking of bushes (as in Butterfly Bush), I'll include a recent photo of the little Crepe Myrtle that Tom transplanted from the edge of the drive into the hole left by one of the daylily clumps that he had just dug up for Bev to plant in their yard. The Crepe Myrtle had dropped all of its leaves and blossoms and I had feared the worst. Fortunately, I continued to water it and it sent out new leaves. I hope it gets a good enough start to make it through the winter. Mental note to self: water the poor little thing throughout the winter and spring.

 

The final product is a beauty

Not only is Fred's new fence well made (note that the fence posts, as shown in the previous posting, are made of metal) and good looking, the cedar smells great. 

   

  

Credit Anya

In early summer of 2016, we were pleased when the house next door to us was occupied by its new owner. It turned out to be Fred, a dentist and divorced man. We soon learned that Fred's fiancée, Anya, would be moving in with him. Anya was a medical student at Kansas University of Medicine-Wichita. As time went on, Anya completed her training and went to do her internship in Kansas City. Shortly thereafter, Fred told me that he was getting a dog. His theory was that Anya had a dog and he (Fred) needed to get one in order to become accustomed to living with a canine, again. (Fred was one of five brothers who had grown up on a farm which, undoubtedly, included dogs.) As it turned out, Fred's fenced back yard was soon occupied by a brother-and-sister pair of labs, Rosie and Mickey.

At the time Fred moved in, the wooden fence that bounded the sides of his backyard was in fair-to-middling shape, the previous owners having had a dog. As time went on, I tried to befriend Rosie and Mickey - to little/no avail. Especially, Rosie was vocal anytime I was outside of our house, but Mickey would join in. Not only did the dogs hurt my ears with their constant barking, but they also dug under the fence and soon had made dog windows at the bottom of a few of the boards by breaking them off. (I recall having posted a cute photo of Rosie with her snout through one of the dog windows, barking at me; but I wasn't able to locate that posting.)

In succeeding years, windstorms tore down whole sections of the fence and the dogs continued to wreak havoc on individual boards. (The two photos, below, show damage from a storm in June 2019.) Eventually, I installed a few iron fence posts among my plants to brace up sections of Fred's fence when they fell into our yard - to protect the plants.

For four years, Fred has been promising two things: 1) to train the dogs not to bark at me so much, and 2) to replace the fence. Somehow, he just never got around to it.

This month: Anya finished her specialty training in nephrology (in New Orleans?) and moved back in with Fred and his college-freshman son. Suddenly, I am seeing action. A fencing company tore down the old fence, Tuesday, and set new fence posts. The concrete is curing, but I'm sure the new fence will appear shortly. Understanding their usefulness, personally, I prefer fenceless yard boundaries. Unfortunately, we are in the minority in our neighborhood. Nearly every other family has a fence - usually, controlling the wanderings of a couple of dogs. (Adam and Kristi on the other side of our yard coral dogs, chickens, and children - lol.)

Below are a couple of photos showing the view with only fence posts in place between our backyard and Fred's. It's the first time we've been treated to such views since moving into our home in December 1999.

There are those who put in the time and effort

There are those who put in the time and effort to keep their physical health at optimal level. I've always admired such people, many of whom share large amounts of DNA with me. Unfortunately, although I've fallen into that grouping for months or years at a time during my long life, those months and years are far back in my rearview mirror. Consequently, I am harvesting the crop that I've planted. Within the past few years, each year, I have spent more time in my physicians' offices within each year than previously I had spent in 5-10 years. The past eight days have added to this years' count.

On Sunday, September 3, I spent about three hours working in our yard - mostly pulling grasses and weeds at the edges of the planting area that is closest to our woods. I had much occasion to wrestle with, and be slapped in the face by, walnut tree limbs and leaves. Although I don't recall ever reacting to the juices from walnut trees, I am well aware that many people have responses to such exposure and I wouldn't be surprised that, along with other seasonal allergies that I've developed since turning 80 five and one-half years ago, I might have developed at least a sensitivity. When, on Hunky Husband's birthday, I started developing a rash on the left side of my face, I concluded that such was the case. (HH has always opined that most of my exercise has resulted from my jumping to conclusions. Guilty.)

By Wednesday morning, I had pustules, redness, and heat on that side of my face and left earlobe - a little worse than is shown in the above photo that was taken a couple of days later. By 8am, I was checking in at the front desk to my primary care physician's office - hoping that she could work me into her busy schedule. By 8:30am, I was leaving the building, having seen Dr Alvarado and her having prescribed an antibiotic and a steroid for me. She asked that I let her know on Friday how I was doing. At that time, I reported that it appeared to me that the prescriptions were doing the job. The infection was showing improvement. I did mention in my message that now I was showing bumps along my jawline, from ear-to-ear, down to my upper chest, that seemed like bug bites. They did not seem to be a problem but were a bit itchy on occasion.

By this past Monday, the infection was a thing of the past; however, my neck and chest had been itching like crazy. By 8am, today, I was checking in at the front desk to my primary care physician's office. I had zero wait, this time. When Dr Alvarado walked in, I told her that it seemed I should have a standing appointment with her. "Yes, on Wednesday morning. Be sure to bring coffee!" She looked at the red splotches and pronounced them to be due to histamine reaction. She had a tech come in to give me a shot in the rear and send me home. Today, the itchiness was mostly absent. I did have a bout of it this evening, but it is in abatement now (fingers crossed).

Since I need the exercise, I jump to the conclusion that the walnut trees (or, possibly, weeds and grasses that I have been wrestling) were the starting point for my troubles with my face, and bugs thereon might possibly have been the starting point for my troubles with my neck and chest. I read that bug bites can trigger histamine reactions.

Happy Birthday to Hunky Husband

Hunky Husband turned 87, today. 

The left photo, below, shows Hunky Husband when he was my "newly acquired" Hunky Date - two months after we started dating in early 1957. The right, just three months ago. He is still my Babe! Happy birthday, Sweetheart!

Finally, I am getting around to adding Chicken Wings to my "4 FUN & ENLIGHTENMENT" type list (right hand column).

Disclosure: I've never watched MacGyver, but I think we've all run into the verb "to MacGyver".