It is October 22, late morning, and we are enjoying brunch. We are seated at the kitchen table, an open window right there. It is 50 degrees outside but the apartment is warm and the cool air coming through the open window feels good.
Several windows have remained open for days. It was in the mid 80s just a few days ago and so we opened living room, bedroom, and kitchen windows wide. Although the outdoor temperatures have since cooled down, the apartment remained warm and we kept the windows open, even overnight.
While enjoying french toast this morning, we heard clanking and rattling noises. We became aware that the noises were coming from the radiators. Sure enough, heat was coming up.
Those radiators give off a lot of heat! They cycled on and off for the rest of the the day.Even with windows open, it is hot in here! I am wearing summer clothes. I even put the fan on this afternoon. In fact, we talked about running the air conditioners!
Climate change? Indoor climate change. This is not what I expected.It does not look like I will need to update my winter wardrobe this year, at least not for indoor use.
I am back on facebook. Granted, my hiatus was brief, but necessary. When the barrage of obsessive, constant, negative political talk caused my blood to boil, and even generated nightmares (see blog post “Jonestown Revisited“), I had to sit back and reflect. Some “friends” have told me to just “hide” their posts because they were not going to stop posting all day long every day. Some said to just “scroll on by.” Well, I want to use facebook my way, not their way.
The truth is I missed my real friends, and of course I missed my family. I even missed NBC New York and CNN who make sure I know what is going on locally and in the world. So I am back, back with a few less facebook friends. That’s right. I unfriended the jerks who think they can take over my facebook page with their insensitivities.
And the plumber was here and fixed the toilet, and we will be at Bangkok Cuisine for dinner tonight.
Thanks for all the wonderful birthday wishes. My wish has already come true. Best birthday ever!
Yesterday, Wednesday, was our day to sit in the Social Security Administration office all day long! When we arrived home later in the day, there was a notice taped to the door inside the building’s entry vestibule. Notices like that are always good news, right?
The notice was put there by The City. It explained that our water would be turned off “tomorrow” (Thursday) for approximately eight hours, beginning at 8 a.m. Sure, they gave a reason: construction. Construction of what? It does not say, but the street is all dug up, machinery is making a racket, and my best guess is that sewer pipes are being replaced. Just a guess.
So we got up bright and early this morning to prepare for a day without water. We groomed, we filled pitchers and buckets and pots with water, and got as ready as we could to face the day. The young folks all went off to work or to school and are unfazed by all of this. It is we retired folks who sat home with no toilet to flush, no way to wash our hands or things. Dirty dishes piled up quickly and the urge to pee became my only thought.
We made it though the first hour. A quick test of the kitchen sink showed that water still flowed. Fantastic! An opportunity to empty my bladder, and so I did. The flush lever was then depressed and voilà, the toilet flushed! And it flushed and flushed and flushed. Water gushed in and out of that toilet at a fast and steady pace. It would not stop. For a building without water, we had a fast flowing river right smack in the center of our apartment.
I called the Super. He was at the post office but would head straight over from there. I do not know if it was coincidence or the current water situation that caused the problem. I will never know, but the Super returned us to “normalcy.”
So now I wait for 4 o’clock when the water to the building “should” be restored to normal operation. In the meantime, I will drink nothing. And I will keep my legs tightly crossed.
I was awakened from sleep with a bad dream, a nightmare really. It was about Jonestown. All the cultists wandered aimlessly around a huge vat of Kool-Aid in a zombie-like state. They chanted “law and order” and “it will be great.” The lies and the abuse and the beatings and the rapes were ever present, but the followers believed it was all good.
Donald Trump played the role of Jim Jones.
Once awakened I could not shake the images. I could not escape from the murmurs, the rumbles, the images of spooky serenity, the expressionless faces of all the zombies.
Because of this dream, I am off facebook. Facebook is no longer the friendly place where I kept in touch with friends and family. There is so much political crap on facebook that I cannot even find those things that are really important – today’s picture of my grandchildren, a status update from my kids, a special announcement from a cousin or friend.
I am tired of seeing post after post of candidate bashing. I am tired of the lies that are repeated, that some even believe. I am tired of being told how smart everyone is and how they know the truth. They have done the research, you see, and I have no mind of my own, no mind at all apparently.
Some people post several times every day. I do not want to see it. At first, it was annoying; it has become maddening.
If you want to be in touch with me, call me, text me, or email me. If you need contact information, please say so in a comment below.
I am off facebook.
Grandma’s Balls are versatile. They were designed primarily for the grandchildren to have safe and harmless indoor play. Made from 100% cotton yarn and polyester fiberfill stuffing, they are soft, lightweight, bouncy, and machine washable. They have been well received by children of all ages.
Now Grandma’s Balls serve a whole new purpose. Modified with the addition of a loop, Grandma’s Balls are now equipped to adorn the kitchen garbage can.
The kitchen garbage can is the kind that has a handy foot pedal and like most garbage cans with like design, when the foot pedal is depressed the garbage can lid pops open. This created a problem, however. It seems that with use, the can inches back toward the wall and when the foot pedal is depressed the lid hits the wall. It has been a constant battle to protect the wall from damage.
Enter Grandma’s Balls. I added a loop to one of the crocheted balls and then clipped a magnet around the loop. The magnet then affixed itself to the metal lid. Now when the pedal is depressed, the lid pops open, the soft ball flies upward and backward and does a little dance, effectively protecting the wall.
It looks like a Rube Goldberg contraption. In other words, it looks silly. Sometimes I step on the pedal even when I have nothing to toss inside. It makes me giggle every time.
Queens street fairs are planned events. Austin Street in Forest Hills (1/2 block from our home) hosts a street fair approximately twice per year – one in fall, one in spring. Traffic is suspended for several blocks while vendors and visitors crowd the streets.
There are lots of handcrafted items, specialty items, foods of all kinds, kiddie rides, and more. The smells of barbecue and popcorn and sausages and more waft through the air.
Sir Braver got a new wallet today, a beautiful all-leather wallet, one he actually needed, too. I almost bought a 4-piece bedding set – almost, but fought off the temptation of an impulse purchase. I will bemoan that later.
There is so much to see! Don’t forget to look under the tables, too.
Our drip turned into a stream. What next? How long do we have until water is out of control? Should we close the valve beneath the kitchen sink? Should we use that undersink valve as our control, opening and closing it as needed?
In the morning we had called the super to ask him for the name and phone number for a reliable plumber. “What for?” he asked. Then he said “Why do you want to pay a plumber?” He told us what to buy as a replacement fixture and said he would install it when the part arrives.
A new faucet is scheduled to be delivered Wednesday. Our hope at this point is that the faucet maintains a slow drip, and nothing more, until then.
Our hope was dashed when at 6 p.m. on a Friday evening the drip turned into a steady stream. It was obvious that the situation was not stable.
I called the super. Of course, I got voicemail; it is after hours. So I left him a message updating him on our situation knowing full well we would not hear from him until Monday. That undersink valve was going to have to be used until then.
At 8 p.m. the super rang our doorbell. With a screwdriver and pliers, he took apart the faucet, grumbled about the plastic innards, dug out who knows what and reseated the whole thing. Voilà! A fully functional faucet on a Friday night. AT NO COST!
I grumble about the many surprise fixes we are dealing with but have only high praises for our super Super.