Implanted lenses had gotten a haze due to cells (unwanted ones) overgrowing the ‘capsule’ in which the lens sits. So I got the first one treated (laser) Tuesday and was fairly well wiped—not the surgery, which consists of staring into a test-like device and being zapped with red light for about 5 minutes—but the eyedrops to dilate and deaden the eye, which feels no pain. My suspicion is the deadening is to blame. I came home sleepy and stupid, but over by evening, and the vision is instantly way better. Hurrah for that.
Frost on the rooftops nightly now, which has the trees turning color and the pond in pre-shutdown. We’re thinking about some floating shields to help a lot of the leaves blow off into the paths. Got to get on that asap, however, as leaf-fall can’t be far away.
Working on the ending of the book.
And having some fun with bonsai. Winter gardening, so to speak. Our little giant Sequoia is taking off in kind of irregular fashion, side shoots springing out further than they ought to, earlier than their ‘turn’ in the growth pattern, but a look at a time lapse of a Sequoia starting from seed shows me that this is just what they do. When you’re that ancient, you get to be eccentric, as a breed.
Trying to get to the post office. This is always a major operation. Stuff to mail. Stuff to do.
Our local convention has been canceled due to Covid: WA is just super strict, which we like. SOrry about the convention, but we will be here next year, and ALL be here next year, which is a good thing, yes? Our state is now 76% with some vaccination, and nearly that with full vaccination, except the eastern end of the state where we live. We have some refuseniks out there, the same areas that have huge, well-kept “save our dams” signs regarding an issue from some 20 years back. Nobody wants to blow up their dams. But I think it’s like the ‘this sign keeps elephants away…’ joke. “Well, do you see any elephants?” “THat’s proof the signs work.” I assure you, nobody around here is blowing up dams. And why do these people care? Or why them particularly? Mystery to us, since we all use electricity. But most of these signs are on barns. And most of the unvaccinated are concentrated in regions with ‘don’t blow up my dam’ signs. It’s one of those mysteries of the human breed.
Anyway, doing well, and starting to batten down for winter. Naturally it’s tending toward winter fast, now that we have a new air conditioner.
You admitted me to the site some time ago and I am glad the system still let me set a profile. I have had cataract surgery (with new lenses) and maybe someday I’ll have the problem you describe. I’m glad it worked out.
I also see comments about painful knee or knees. I have two replacement knees and can testify that the operation followed by the extensive rehabilitation is worth ending the pain. I have an excellent surgeon. Cause was arthritis from skiing, squash, tennis and basketball.
My insufficient excuse for delay is that I am finishing a book, Principles of Indigenous Economics. This is about economic systems that may be related to that of the atevi, with their extensive hunting grounds. I very much look forward to the 22nd adventure of Bren and his many companions. You find time to keep us posted and that is much appreciated.
A further personal remark is that I am from the Flathead Indian Reservation, not far from where you now live, where we and our non-Indian neighbors have managed to get along without a war, but not without substantial resort to the courts. We are now an Indian tribe that owns a dam, our dam, and no one has offered to blow up “our” dam. I thought those dams on the Snake river are owned by the federal government. They do have connections to barns, however. I’m glad you’ve avoided covid; my (extended) family has not and now the survivors are all well-vaccinated.
Glad to hear that your (brief, thankfully) eye surgery has gone well and Fall is in the way too. We’re just staring to see a bit of color in the leaves here on the coast outside of Boston. Nights are frequently down in the 50s F. but not much less. I’m occasionally wearing a light jacket when I walk to the subway in the morning to head into work in Boston. The sequoia from seed sounds fascinating!
Our opthalmologist said that overgrowth of cells in lens capsule was a known possible side effect of cataract surgery. So far neither ReadyGuy nor I have experienced that particular plight. I’m still in the “Gee, it’s so much brighter and more colorful” stage, and ReadyGuy is still in the “not more eyedrops” stage (surgery earlier this week on second eye). We’re glad that now we know someone who is a trailblazer for us in case that side effect occurs. LOL.
We are also happy to hear that the book ending is taking shape.
And the Panhandle is looking for hospitals they can send patients to. 700,000 dead is one hell of a hoax! One would think refers behind hospitals for anyone to see might be a clue. Well, I got MY booster Wednesday! As they say, “It’s your funeral.”
And I observed one of my October rituals this week, “The Changing of the Sheets.” Off with the percale, on with flannel. And I get down the comforter and its duvet cover. There should be an easy way to get one in the other. (The cover is a necessity, because the padding of the comforter is about 3/4″ of soft urethane(?) foam. Not washable. Cover is.)
Here in L.A. it was chilly enough last night that I woke up to 70F inside, for the first time in months. It’s early fall, and we are so ready for that cooler weather! (It isn’t guaranteed to be nice every day, but it’s not likely to result in a week of 100-plus in the afternoons.) Plus a smidgeon of precipitation, though not enough to matter.
We’ll be switching to flannel sheets it about a month or so, although I’m about to add an extra quilt to my side of the bed (my spouse sleeps much hotter than I do: narrow quilts and bed socks in the winter are brilliant solutions to marital discord!).
I first encountered duvets and covers when a student years ago in Edinburgh—where they are called Downies. My preferred downie-stuffing technique is to stand up with the comforter pooled at my feet, pull the cover over my head with me inside, bend down & grasp (grope?) the two top corners of the actual comforter and haul it up and into each top corner. Ok, getting out can be a bit of a challenge!
Well, I’m that rarest of birds, a native Angeliño. Raised in Inglewood, Hawthorne, North Redondo Beach. CSCLB, ’67, Chemistry. I worked for UCLA’s Campus Computing Network, when it had a big, bad supercomputer, a S/360 Model 91KK (q.v.), 16MHz cycle time, 4MB of CORE memory (yes, in the 60’s that defined a supercomputer), when most mainframes were 256K, maybe 512K. More than reasonably familiar with LA and its freeways, but it got a bit much 30 years ago, after standing in my front yard watching smoke rise from burning stores on Crenshaw in Gardena. I quit my job at TRW, before it was bought out by Northrop Grumman. Took a year to sell my house. I was living a couple miles west of where I guess SpaceX’s plant is now; the old Northrop plant? And I guess the Either/Or bookstore in Hermosa is gone. They say LA has no seasons. That’s wrong. It has about SIX, depending on who’s counting. (Two months of “late night and early morning fog and low clouds along the coast, hazy afternoon sunshine.”)
That’s sort of what I did, but I haven’t tried having it at my feet, it was on the foot of the bed. Good suggestion. I’ll try it next year.
I thought there were two: hot and green.
Hmm. I was born in Long Beach and raised in the Bay Area. And that fog is rarer now than it was – “June gloom” is almost gone. But we’ve been getting fog part of the time. We might get a little damp this week.
Paul, I have no experience as a hotel chambermaid; they are the ones who do this best and quickest!
So there may be a better way to do this, but this is mine.
If you want to be able to see what you’re doing you could use a similar method to Raesean’s, with the duvet cover inside out, but just stick in your arms to grab the two top corners. The cover is all rucked up around your arms instead of smooth, but still in a neat oval.
Then you can see to grab the top corners of the duvet and pull them inside and up.
When you’ve pulled the top corners through and thereby scraped the cover around the duvet insteda of your arms, keep holding on to those two top corners and shake out the duvet-and-covers a few times to make the cover settle all the way down.
Then when the top two-thirds or three-quarters is neat, you can put that end down flat on your bed, go to the foot and reach in to the cover to grab the two bottom corners of the duvet and put them neatly in the bottom corners of the cover.
Then one more shake (try to make it snap like a flag in a brisk wind) holding the bottom corners settles the foot end neatly.
If the cover is right side out and you don’t want to turn it, the start is a little trickier. Fold out both the cover and the duvet. I put the duvet on the foot half of my bed, the cover at the head, with the opening at the foot towards the duvet.
Hold one top corner of the duvet, and slide it into the cover along the seam up to the top corner of the cover (there’s always a seam along one side). Then grab hold of that duvet-plus-cover from outside with your other hand.
With the inside-the-cover hand grab the other top corner of the duvet (follow the edge that leads away from you; the near edge is the one going down-and-out to the foot). Then holding that duvet corner follow the top line of the duvet cover from the hand still holding the first corner until you reach the second top corner.
(This is easier if the cover has a top seam, or if you iron your duvet covers so there’s a neat crease to follow.)
Grab that duvet-and-cover corner from outside (you can set the first corner down carefully to do so).
Get your other hand out of the cover without disturbing those two top corners, and grab both top corners from the outside.
Then the shaking out steps are the same.
CJ, I’m glad to hear you can see clearly again!
I’ve been looking at a hazy spot that mostly sits in the center of my left eye’s field of vision, but floats around a bit. Because it moves, it’s just a floater and should move away or dissolve, but it’s been stubbornly there for more than a year now and can be quite irritatingly in the way when I want to do fine detailed work, as my left eye is the one that’s best for nearby vision.
Having that haze all over everything all the time would make things difficult!
I also start with the cover inside out, but I fold the duvet lengthwise in thirds before I grab the corners. When I have them firmly in place, I use diaper pins to keep them there, then proceed much as you have said. When the cover has been slid most of the way over the duvet, I grab and pin those corners, seal up the cover, and then shake it out.
I like the way you start it. It seems to mean not crawling inside, which has already required stitching with mine because the bottom opening is 75% of the width.
I added 4 inches of seam tape across all four corners of the duvet, tacking it down along the duvet sides. Then I and sewed two six inch pieces inside each corner of the duvet cover. I thread the seam tape pieces through the duvet corner loop and tie them in a bow. That way, once the top corners are secured, I can let them go to smooth the cover over the duvet. I secured the foot of the duvet and the duvet cover similarly to the top. It is now a one person task even for king size duvets.
I’ve had floaters in my eyes that last for years. They can be annoying. (Is that spot a bird, a plane, or just me?) I even had one show up while I was in a store – it scared me for a few minutes, before it dissipated.
You should get checked for retina issues (personal experience). Clear floaters are probably ok, black ones esp if they break up into little tiny bits, are a problem sign.
Eye exams aren’t showing anything unusual. (Well, not anything that seems to be a problem – my optical nerves aren’t the same size, for some reason.) They do check the retinas.
I have a duvet cover, but it’s on a feather bed. Getting the bed in and out is interesting, but mostly like putting a very large, floppy pillow in a case.
Paul, I’m sure you can find about half a zillion how-to videos on YouTube on the easy insertion of duvet into cover. I’d wish that the worst problem you encounter for months and months is how to get the duvet into the cover in ten swear words or less.
I admit, I never expected it to be of such interest. There have been some good ideas here. But on the other hand, it’s something I only have to so once a year, so it’s not something I can experiment with to any degree, and at my age I’d forget anyhow.
Don’t sell yourself short. I know/have known many people who remained sharp as a tack into advanced age.
One of my aunts was sharp right up to her death. At 102. (There’s a video interview that she did at 100, on YouTube.)
I’m glad you’re able to write again. Can we order some new Hani stories?
First we have to dig out from under the backlog of contracted things we’re late on. Then I think we’ll take a deep breath and think of such things.
That’s the best “maybe” I’ve ever heard!
“Working on the ending of the book.”
A cliffhanger leading into the next one right? he asks hopefully.
Although, more Chanur would be wonderful.
I’m fascinated by how much self maintenance health care you’ve been undertaking recently. It all sounds as if it’s gone well thank goodness. If you don’t mind me sharing a bit of whimsy? I have been thinking of your activities as a sort of “walk around the plane before setting off” kind of checklist. You’re getting everything that could go wrong or has just started to go wrong fixed before it causes you any real problems. I guess the major health issue you had in 2020 makes you concentrate on self-maintenance, quite rightly, but I cant help smiling when I think of a top to to toe CJ walk around…a bit like a householder checking the place is ready for winter ❄️
p.s. Did I remember rightly you mentioning some time the possibility of a morgaine short story? That would be marvellous.
The other night, I watched the old “Three Musketeers” film from the 1970’s with Michael York as D’Artagnan, and remembered what you’d said about Vanye (Morgaine). A real blast from the past. They don’t make them like that any more, unfortunately. (Free on Amazon prime video, BTW.)
Such good news about your eye, CJ! Whatever cosmic forces that seemed to precipitate the great slough of despond that was 2020/COVID seem to be letting up. Wish you could find a photo platform we could all get to where you could feature photos of the wonders and marvels of the fabulous FanCherryh Gardens.
COVID has been passing out a goodly number of Darwin Awards to the refusenik crowd, but the level of entitlement and social irresponsibility seen in some of that ilk is downright frightening. I’m afraid we’ve still got quite a way to go before we’re out of the woods. If history is anything to go by, Europe after the Black Death is a case in point — the Inquisition, the witch hunts, etc., but then again, the death of feudalism. If we can keep the world from imploding in the next 20 years, it’ll be interesting to see what social changes come out of our first COVID epidemic.
Also, enough clothing that most folks could have more than one set, and enough tools that everyone could have a set of what they needed. That seems like a small thing today, but a little reflection shows how truly large a thing it is. Picture having to share a single kitchen knife among half a dozen households.
This morning I went outside to feed the Three Stooges, and after laying out 3 bowls of kibble, found Spot, the smallest, dead in the back yard. She showed no sign of trauma, just seemingly sprawled in a typical sleep position. She seemed fine yesterday, demanding food and pets per usual; I have no idea what killed her. Of the outside cats, she seemed least likely to get into trouble; frankly I expected all the outside cats to outlive the inside old futs. We buried her next to her indoor predecessors along the fence line. 🙁
(insert image of Data telling Spot he is a pretty cat, a good cat)
As some of the Wavy Navy may know, I was on vacation for 2 weeks on the mainland, a whirlwind tour up and down the US eastern seaboard. I was starting to believe I was a Jonah; 3 different people we were intending to see developed problems that prevented them from meeting with us. DH’s father declined to see us on the grounds that he was concerned about COVID, one of the friends we went to meet in NC had a flareup of an old ulcer that put him in the ER and kept him from coming with us on a trip to the Outer Banks, and a third had her father take a nasty fall so she had to stay home to care for him. Last but not least, DH got into a minor fender bender when going on an emergency work appointment on a day we were supposed to technically still be on vacation. The trip was nice and we saw a lot of interesting things, but it feels like everything saved up to dump at once. Not only did the other shoe drop, an entire thrift store worth fell in the last 3 weeks. “Eat a live toad first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen the rest of the day”; one most sincerely hopes so!
Oh, and on Friday ran up a $1000 plumbing bill. The tub abruptly refused to drain; liberal application of drain cleaner did nothing, so we called a plumber to snake it. Turned out our 70s vintage tub drain lever had broken, and was permanently stuck closed. I had planned on replacing it sometime, and luckily had the parts at hand, so could request the plumber to proceed with the replacement. After seeing the rusty bodged mess under the tub in the access, the $1000 was worth it.
Sorry to hear that Spot passed. I don’t know if “unexpectedly” is good or bad… it’s a shock to you. Hopefully Spot just slipped away. That happened several years ago to an outdoor cat who lived under our porch. We named him Porchie. Several folks in the neighborhood pitched in to feed him. The doorbell rang one morning early before work and a neighbor stood there in tears. She had come up to our front steps to give Porchie his regular wet food but he was stretched, seemingly comfortably, in the sun at the bottom step but dead. I think he settled into the early morning sun, simply had a heart attack or something and passed a few minutes before. We buried him in the front garden where we often saw him. He had survived several winters outdoors with the love and care of people, just as your Spot did. You enabled her to have a stable, predictable life and that is a good thing for both of you.