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ffloThe Orioles loss last night hurt. They were up on Tampa Bay 8-0, early, and ended up losing by I think it was 12-8. This when they'd just been on something of a roll, in June, compared to the lousy April and May, and it seemed as if there was a chance they could pull out a season after all. But that come-from-way-ahead loss was a blow.
Meanwhile it's Juneteenth (which we have off work) and apart from watching a doc called How They Got Over, I've not done much at all to observe the occasion, and have been inside all day. I was up early and locked up the cats so one of the painter guys could paint a couple of doors with them cracked open and not let anyone out. Things have been going well with those painters--- like, they seem really great. A little later today, though, the cats and I suddenly heard a squirrel scrabbling around inside what my folks mighta called the front hall closet, though there's no hall. I mean, it was going to town in there. My very good critter guy is about to have a week off, but his office is sending someone a week from today. I'm afraid to open the closet now. But I guess I can interpret it as Grace saying my idea that cleaning out that closet the rest of the way and putting some of the junk in the living room back in there isn't a good plan for this long weekend after all.
The racket settled down after a couple of hours. I heard chirpring barking squirrels now, and don't know where they are.
They didn't get in where the little overhang that the painters replaced was off the house, though. There was no opening behind it. And there's a year guarantee on the squirrel exclusion, of all things. They really are good critter people.
Happened to talk to the fence guy today, who seemed to have all the posts in place and most of the cross boards onto which the picket-like planks will go. Turns out there was some miscommunication and the double gate at the back wasn't going to be big enough for a vehicle to go through, which was what the plan was supposed to be. AND the head of the little company, who's his wife, didn't call Miss Dig back on the 2nd like she told me she would, and he hit a water main while digging, though he just worked around it, but like, sheesh. So it's a bit up in the air how the rest of that will go, and there was another little subplot there that also suggested that communication between these married people might be an issue. Still, I'll probably have an okay fence section instead of a falling-down one on that edge of the "grounds". Whether they'll be my gardeners for whipping it the rest of the way into shape, I don't know.
Watched Boys on the Side today, finally. It wasn't as bad as I expected, and wasn't the sort of film I thought it was, back in the day when I didn't see it around when it came out. Then I watched another episode of "Carol and the End of the World", which I'm really digging, and wanting to savor, despite the ill-at-ease underpinnings of its savorings, and of everything.
Even seeing snippets of the '80s roadside chain restaurants in Boys had me feeling how much worse everything is now. Not that it was great then. But it wasn't as bad. I'm confident that this conviction is accurate in enough ways that I can stand by it, despite whatever nostalgia or starry-eyed recollection of relative youth might influence it. Things have gone fairly far to hell, handbasket or none.
I should touch grass. Sara might call. She's going through something with somebody important to her.
I folded some laundry and picked out a word for my library summer game sign/code. Guess I could go put that sign out. It's going to be hot tomorrow, but it's cool today, and it doesn't get dark until later.
Rather do hope my long weekend picks up, however.
Meanwhile it's Juneteenth (which we have off work) and apart from watching a doc called How They Got Over, I've not done much at all to observe the occasion, and have been inside all day. I was up early and locked up the cats so one of the painter guys could paint a couple of doors with them cracked open and not let anyone out. Things have been going well with those painters--- like, they seem really great. A little later today, though, the cats and I suddenly heard a squirrel scrabbling around inside what my folks mighta called the front hall closet, though there's no hall. I mean, it was going to town in there. My very good critter guy is about to have a week off, but his office is sending someone a week from today. I'm afraid to open the closet now. But I guess I can interpret it as Grace saying my idea that cleaning out that closet the rest of the way and putting some of the junk in the living room back in there isn't a good plan for this long weekend after all.
The racket settled down after a couple of hours. I heard chirpring barking squirrels now, and don't know where they are.
They didn't get in where the little overhang that the painters replaced was off the house, though. There was no opening behind it. And there's a year guarantee on the squirrel exclusion, of all things. They really are good critter people.
Happened to talk to the fence guy today, who seemed to have all the posts in place and most of the cross boards onto which the picket-like planks will go. Turns out there was some miscommunication and the double gate at the back wasn't going to be big enough for a vehicle to go through, which was what the plan was supposed to be. AND the head of the little company, who's his wife, didn't call Miss Dig back on the 2nd like she told me she would, and he hit a water main while digging, though he just worked around it, but like, sheesh. So it's a bit up in the air how the rest of that will go, and there was another little subplot there that also suggested that communication between these married people might be an issue. Still, I'll probably have an okay fence section instead of a falling-down one on that edge of the "grounds". Whether they'll be my gardeners for whipping it the rest of the way into shape, I don't know.
Watched Boys on the Side today, finally. It wasn't as bad as I expected, and wasn't the sort of film I thought it was, back in the day when I didn't see it around when it came out. Then I watched another episode of "Carol and the End of the World", which I'm really digging, and wanting to savor, despite the ill-at-ease underpinnings of its savorings, and of everything.
Even seeing snippets of the '80s roadside chain restaurants in Boys had me feeling how much worse everything is now. Not that it was great then. But it wasn't as bad. I'm confident that this conviction is accurate in enough ways that I can stand by it, despite whatever nostalgia or starry-eyed recollection of relative youth might influence it. Things have gone fairly far to hell, handbasket or none.
I should touch grass. Sara might call. She's going through something with somebody important to her.
I folded some laundry and picked out a word for my library summer game sign/code. Guess I could go put that sign out. It's going to be hot tomorrow, but it's cool today, and it doesn't get dark until later.
Rather do hope my long weekend picks up, however.
