Author: Peg

Fogged in today.

Which makes me wonder what might be in store for my little flight south tomorrow. I also find myself wondering about TSA. And the Air Traffic Control system.

Plan B is the train.
Same Plan B for coming back.

I checked the longer-range forecast. It might be wise to throw the waterproof windbreaker into the mix. Or maybe just wing it and assume the hotel will have umbrellas.

I try not to pack for Plan B.

I’ve figured something out about myself.
I’m an old processor running beta software, trying to operate in a Version 26.3 world. The operating system still works. Most functions still run.
But:

• Some apps open slower.
• Battery management is critical.
• Updates arrive unpredictably.
• Certain features are deprecated.
• And occasionally the system reboots for no apparent reason.

Still grateful that the machine starts up every morning.

I’d best finish packing.
The less you take, the more careful you have to be.

I have even bored myself.

But there are worse things in life than being bored. Truth be told, I’m probably more fatigued than bored. Which brings to mind General McClellan’s horses, always reported to be fatigued, though no one could quite determine what they had done.

Sometimes I go back through the blog and see what I was up to years ago.

Twenty years ago
Fifteen years ago
Ten years ago
Five years ago

I have said before that I really write this blog for myself.

For example, on March 6, 2006, I was worrying about not getting all of my travel in because I was getting old. The next day I planned to apply for Social Security. I took it early.

At the time, I calculated that if I lived to be 82, I would have made the wrong decision. I would have been financially “better off” waiting.

On the other hand, Carlton also took his Social Security early, and he didn’t make it past 79.

So you pay your money, and you take your chances.

Changed the “important paper” today. Which led me to wonder: who invented toilet paper?

Wikipedia, of course, has much to say about the history of the “important paper.”

For most of human history, people used whatever was handy. The Romans shared a sponge on a stick in public latrines. Rural Americans relied on newspapers, catalogs, or corn cobs. Hygiene was largely improvisational. Indoor plumbing was rare.

Paper entered the story early in China, but it wasn’t until 1857 that Joseph Gayetty began selling packaged “medicated paper” in the United States. It lasted until the 1920s but was never wildly popular. Many Americans were perfectly content with the Sears & Roebuck catalog.

In 1890, the Scott Paper Company introduced toilet paper on a roll. Perforations came later. In 1935, one brand proudly advertised its product as “splinter-free,” which raises unsettling questions about the competition.

Here at the Asylum, management provides the TP. Long before my time, a committee was convened to select the optimal product. It was known, with full seriousness, as “The Tissue Issue.”

I like to imagine earnest residents comparing ply, tensile strength, absorbency, and dignity — all in service of the common good.

Civilization is fragile.
But thanks to the “Tissue Issue” Committee, my toilet paper is splinter-free.

Snow. Again.
War expanding.
Clowns at the wheel.
I am concerned.
Unacceptable.

That’s enough to get me out of bed.

Nice. Sun. March. You can leave now, winter.

If this is Sunday, it must be Water Day for the orchids. Some serious repotting, etc., is required soon. Maybe when I get back from Charleston.

Went out to inspect and work on the Garden Box. But I miscalculated the weather. It seemed to be over 50° and sunny. Dressed accordingly. Garden box, in the shade and in a wind tunnel. Nope. Gardening exercise delayed.

Considering giving up my garden box. My only concern is the demise of  Ray the Rosemary. When I got the box 10 summers ago, it got “enough” sun. Now it is mostly in shade. It might be time to surrender the box to someone on the waiting list for a garden box. I have had it for 10 years. Don’t need to decide this today. Or even this week.

And then there is AI. It is already out of the box — and I doubt it’s going back in.

I am just a little old lady in Allbirds, but it seems obvious that AI has the potential to wipe out many white-collar jobs and make a respectable dent in blue-collar ones as well.

I’m trying not to be a Luddite. Humans need work. Real work. If we don’t have it, we invent other occupations — Congressperson. Influencer. Commentator on nothing in particular. And look how that’s going.

Still, I have no doubt we humans are fully capable of wrecking the planet all by ourselves, long before AI gets around to finishing the job.

Aside: They didn’t have real work.

I was on the California Zephyr coming home from my Spring Break in Santa Barbara on March 1, 2025. Last year, Spring Break was 11 days. This year it’s only 5.

Gratitude

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Grateful that Spring Break is still in play for me.

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And now our once great country has started a war. Thank you, President Bones Spurs.

Nice day today. Almost all the snow is gone. Laundry is done. Venmo account and Virginia Digital ID set up. One bad book abandoned without guilt. That is one of the privileges of age: You don’t have to finish books that are not worth your time. You don’t have to pretend something is good when it isn’t. And you don’t have to clap.  Or eat kale.

Breakfast was also interesting. But not in a good way.

One of my friends declared hers “the worst breakfast ever.” I did not argue. She needed a steak knife to cut her waffle.

Even more grateful that I can get back up again. 

Also, Go-Back Thursday.

Made reservations to return to Charleston next week. Five nights.

First went in March 2021, when we were just being released from a year of lockdown in the Asylum. I was technically working from home, but realized something important: my actual work didn’t begin until 4 or 5 in the evening. So if I flew to Charleston, checked into a hotel, and got the Wi-Fi sorted before 4 PM, well, who would know I wasn’t still in Falls Church working from home?

Charleston and the HarbourView Inn saved what was left of my sanity five years ago.

Going back. It costs three times as much now. I had to scrabble to find a room for five nights. I leave next Friday and return on Wednesday. Flying. Used some American Airlines miles. I didn’t have many, and I rarely fly American anymore, so I consider this a bit of Death Cleaning for frequent flyer accounts.

The plan:
Sunday service at Mother Emanuel.
Bouillabaisse to die for at Magnolias.
Walk.
Sit.
Read.
Nap.

Sometimes going forward means going back.

Decided to extend my search for spring outside of The Asylum.
Not only tired of winter.
Tired of The Asylum.

But, to my knowledge, nothing broke at The Asylum today. Yet.

Nothing has changed elevator-wise.

The stairs are beginning to take a toll on my legs. But I’m still a little reluctant to trust the elevators. Not afraid of being trapped alone, I could handle that. I’m afraid of being trapped with other people. So for now, I’ll continue my Lenten stair discipline.

The elevators may be unchanged.
The infrastructure collapse, however, appears to be contagious.

An email arrived from management after breakfast:

We would like to share a few important dining service updates:

• Buffet service only on Tuesday and Wednesday due to main kitchen stove equipment failure.

• Beginning Wednesday breakfast, we will transition to disposable service while a new dish machine is installed.

• These changes will remain in place until further notice.

• Some items may not be available while the stove is out.

We appreciate your understanding and patience as we address these issues.

Elevators unreliable.
Stove broken.
Dish machine out.
Paper plates.
Plastic forks.

I suppose none of this truly matters. We are fed. We are housed. The lights still come on. 

But it does not inspire what one might call a warm, fuzzy feeling.

As for tonight’s “State of the Dis-Union”, I’ll be skipping it. It’s past my bedtime and well beyond my tolerance level.

I wandered around inside the building this morning, looking for something that wasn’t winter.

And once again, Fred’s Froggy Flower Arrangement came through.

Also, 75% of the elevators appear to be working as of 1610 hours. Rumor has it that one of the elevators trapped a person yesterday.  I am still giving up elevators for Lent.

BUT WAIT—an Elevator Update from Management just arrived.

An adjuster from Action Elevator is scheduled to be onsite tomorrow to further troubleshoot elevators #3 and #4. Elevator #1 requires additional parts, which have already been ordered. We will provide further updates as soon as more information becomes available.

We are deeply grateful for your patience and understanding during this challenging period. Please accept our sincere apologies for the significant inconvenience these elevator outages have caused. Your safety and comfort remain our top priorities, and we are working diligently with our partners to restore full service as quickly as possible.

Pray for us, Saint Quattuora.

Saint Quattuora has been busy.

About 9 PM last night, 3 of our 5 elevators were returned to service. As of this morning, they were all still operating. After breakfast, I only left the 11th Floor Walkup to go to the 10th floor to water a friend’s plants – so I haven’t a clue if the elevators are still functional.

Still don’t think that this snow event will amount to much in our area. I like big fluffy flakes. I sit in my comfy chair, drink coffee, and watch them fly around.

Update After Dinner – It was reported that one of the elevators is out of service. That means we are back to two.