Saturday2

Since my mind never gave up the idea that yesterday was Saturday and I know tomorrow is Sunday this has to be Saturday2. Which is fine.

I dreamed last night that my fridge and freezer had too much food in them. And, they actually do. I need to eat it all to a far more reasonable level. If only so I sleep better.

My spam and potato hash was not nearly as spectacular as I imagined. It was just ok. I think I might dice up some apple and add that to it.

Today's swim is at 8:30. I suspect it is one of the last reservations. I got an email from the city pool yesterday (still on their list even tho I can't swim there anymore doesn't mean I'm not nosy about what they are up to). They are shutting down their reservation system and going back to first come/first serve lane sharing/circle swimming. I'm surprised the city is doing it before LA Fitness but the gloves are coming off pretty much everywhere.

I like having a lane to myself and I like, even more, know I will absolutely have a lane waiting for me when I get there. But, I won't miss having to call ahead.

I thought about stopping at the grocery near the gym after my swim but see paragraph 2 above. So I think I'll just come on home. The baseball starts at 1. The sweater sleeves are calling to be knit. Just a nice Saturday2.

Small World's Collide...

So back in the olden days, when I swam every day, there was a guy who swam at the same time, usually M/W/F. He used a white fold up cane and always got there before the doors opened like I did. His name was Matt. We got to be kind of chums. We'd tell each other if we were going to miss a swim, etc. He was a very very nice and fun guy.

Then there was Sunday Guy. He swam steady laps for 50 minutes and then did 10 minutes with the float and then walked the last lap. Every Sunday. 8-9 am. It was about 6 months of Sundays before I could get a "Good Morning" out of him. Finally, he got to where he would even smile at me when he said it. And, then before the pandemic, when he would once in a very great while, come on a Saturday, I could tease him about just doing it to confuse my calendar.

He was there last Sunday and we had a 'hi!! so good to see you back' short chat.

Today, Sunday Guy was there in mid swim when I got there and shockingly, he stopped to talk to me. "You remember Matt?" He pointed to his own eyes and added "vision impaired". I told him I absolutely did! "Well, he asked about you this week. We work together. And he wanted you to know he was delighted to find out you were still swimming."

Awwww Made my fucking day and I told him so. He went on to say that Matt was still not back at the gym but that he would pass along my greeting.

I grinned while I swam. I've thought about Matt a lot in the past year and half, wondering if he was ok. So good to know he is.

Disposal 0 Susan 1

My kitchen sink has not been draining well recently. Finally today I did a big kitchen clean up and decided it was time to investigate. Ugh. Food down there. It was spinning around just fine but there was a small amount of food that was not going anywhere.

I cleaned all the bits. I did the soda/vinegar thing so at least the food that was still there was nice and clean. I ground up some ice. Finally I figured out the blade thingies were stuck. Locked in place. I tried poking. No joy. I googled. Lots of answers. Grind bones, grind fruit pits. I got no bones, no pits.

bill_schubert will be here in nearly a month. Maybe he'd like to fix it? I'm sure he would.

I chewed on it for a while and googled some more and then dug out a long spoon that was headed to Goodwill and was nice and stiff and pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled and BINGO, Both of the blades gave up and started spinning around!! I thanked them profusely. Sooooo satisfying.

My sweater got to the point I could try it on. It's a great sweater! I need about 4" on the sweater bottom and 4" or less on the sleeves. Also satisfying.

Also I had another thought about Biggie. His biting these days happens almost only when I'm on the couch. And he rarely crawls in my lap there any more. Every morning, after I get my coffee, I sit down and clip his nails. Only one. And then he gets a treat. He loves the treats. He hates the clipping. But we do it every morning. Here on the couch where he bites me.

So. No more morning nail clipping. Tomorrow, I'll give him the treat but no clipping. I'll figure out how to get his nails trimmed later.

Today he's been pretty chill. He's been in his tree. He's been playing with his roller toy a lot. He took his pill without argument. Now he's napping.

The Mariner game is tortuously slow. Both teams are playing horrible baseball. Good garbage disposal fixing background noise.

Biggie 2021

The Flickr album of all the days.