![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Accomplishment
Today was one of summer's respite days, with moderate temps and no humidity and autumnal clouds: a pseudo-September that no September recalls. And though a bit twingy on waking (why is my operated knee so stiff?) I managed to wash winter's sheets and pillowcases at the laundromat (it hasn't been that long since we've had lows of 10C/ 50F), shop for staples at the super, pick up my holds at the library, get muscle relaxants at the drugstore, and get a photocopy of my tax return for the water and garbage refund. Also buy a bottle of wine to make a lemon, butter and dill sauce that's supposed to go with pasta but in my case went with shrimp and asparagus. Of course I had a couple of glasses as well, to forestall the owies.
And owies forestalled, I swept up cherry pits in the back yard and pulled a bunch more vines and quack grass from the umm vine and quack grass copse back of the cherry tree. Quack grass will pull if you do it stalk by stalk. Then I went back inside and mended the unravelling hem of my favourite towel and darned holes in one of my tank tops.
And in the splendid evening, gold sun and dark clouds, watched SND's workmen doing I know not what. Renovations are Never Done. Equally this morning I heard manly voices out the back, which is poor NND finally getting the whatever needs to be done to stop the back bunker from leaking. Poor NND had better be rich because lord that place is costing him money. Bunker has been swathed in plastic since last fall, because either the exterior wooden facing was never treated, or the waterproofing stopped working, or the fact that the window edging was put in upside down- so that water pooled instead of running off- finally led to leaks. My brother's experience with a major renovation- even with architects supposedly riding herd on the contractor's men (spoiler: they didn't)- is why I will never renovate myself.
And owies forestalled, I swept up cherry pits in the back yard and pulled a bunch more vines and quack grass from the umm vine and quack grass copse back of the cherry tree. Quack grass will pull if you do it stalk by stalk. Then I went back inside and mended the unravelling hem of my favourite towel and darned holes in one of my tank tops.
And in the splendid evening, gold sun and dark clouds, watched SND's workmen doing I know not what. Renovations are Never Done. Equally this morning I heard manly voices out the back, which is poor NND finally getting the whatever needs to be done to stop the back bunker from leaking. Poor NND had better be rich because lord that place is costing him money. Bunker has been swathed in plastic since last fall, because either the exterior wooden facing was never treated, or the waterproofing stopped working, or the fact that the window edging was put in upside down- so that water pooled instead of running off- finally led to leaks. My brother's experience with a major renovation- even with architects supposedly riding herd on the contractor's men (spoiler: they didn't)- is why I will never renovate myself.