Back at it...

 

Per that old sailor's adage, the following day was a delight. The day that I imagined would yield the last dyefest of the summer turned into something other, for the sun and warmth I busied myself with too many tasks. Still they were things that needed doing, like vehicle tag renewals and taking on both flu and covid shots. Ow! 

Working threads into different shapes kept fingers busy.

After some lengthy give and take with some IT people, I'm no longer concerned with who or what scrapes content from my blog. Fuck 'em. We have bigger fish to fry in Georgia. 

I'm sure somewhere on the web, you've read the post about how an untimely delay saved someone who was on a mission - keys misplaced, a long train at a crossing, a coffee shop opening late - all things conspiring to keep someone from disaster. Change to course of their lives. 

I'll never know what I missed by the fifteen minutes that Bailey refused to get off the roof of my car while I was heading out to meet a friend for lunch. He enjoys lounging on the car on a sunny day, but the clouds ahead of the hurricane hatching out of the gulf cover us thickly now and will for days. This was my view through the sunroof . Even as I started the car, he refused to budge.

I moved from one side of the car to the other, intending to lift him down and chase him into the wet grass. He wasn't having it. Mocked me through the glass and showed me his claws. 

It was a full fifteen minutes before he decided that his mission was accomplished. I will never know what fate had in store for me because Bailey was on the job. 

September's last

For a change, perfectly clear skies for the harvest moon, but not many options for meeting it at the horizon. The one place I'm sure of means parking on a bridge that passes over the interstate - these days an invitation to get arrested. 

Instead, I met some friends at the park. Actual socializing over a drink! We ran out of gas before  the moon made an appearance, but I stopped here and there on the way home, wishing I had at least cleaned my windshield.  

Under the influence of this moon, I was in a fit of making myself useful. 

I bought a pair of lovely lamps off FB Marketplace three years ago along with the kit to repair the electrical guts for one of them. The kit did not have any instructions, only parts. 

Even though fooling with electricity makes me nervouse,cut to the chase. I'm not fond of LED bulbs, but this was the only one in the house not doing something. 

Now to vacuum the lampshade back to white.

And the replacement agitator for the washing machine came. That was a little more challenging. But it's done and I'll be caught up on the wash in a week or so. 

No more washing blankets or comforters!

While New England suffered from that errant northeaster, Georgia has been lolling in the mid-70s with low humidity. Perfect for old ladies to soak up some vitamin D and stare off into the blue, read and stitch a little. 

Sublime.

 

Putting out poison hex nuts

 

That was a device in a science fiction story I read long ago. Robots had become a dangerous menace marauding far and wide for the parts they needed to maintain themselves. The hero figured out a way of making their most sought-after prize toxic to them. 

Yay for the humans. 

 I took a few days to let the cobwebs clear and remind myself that I can do many things that I had no formal instruction in. Taming data scrapers was the task.

Most often, it's a matter of knowing the right questions to ask and in the proper order. It's interesting that this time I enlisted the computer to the task of confounding itself.

Still, it remains to be seen if the fix worked. 

Other tasks lined up on my runway: replacing the agitator feed dogs in the washing machine. It's nice to know that I wasn't crazy imagining that the whites weren't coming out clean. 

Not so much fun will be spending hours (and a lot of steps this body is not used to taking) at the county offices changing the deed to my house. I have to file an affidavit saying that as my husband passed away thirteen years ago, I am the sole owner of the property. I haven't found the deed, but I had to spend long minutes at the glass partition with nothing to look at but his death certificate while the clerk rummaged up a dummy document for me to alter, then file. 

Until then, here's Sophie keeping my ass out of the stitching chair and Colin busy at the airport herding one of his metal sheep to safety.