life in the old lane

At about 2:30 today, I turned in my book report. Hopefully, that is the last that I will see of the books or the report.  

Thinking about a new problem. How to get the residents to pony up serious money to increase the scholarships for our staff. That might help us compete with Amazon for entry positions in Health Care, Food Service, and Housekeeping. Nobody wants any of those kids to be a waiter or nursing aide for the rest of their lives.  They are almost all immigrants or first-generation Americans. If our country is going to survive it will be thanks to young people like them.  Many of them start here while they are still in high school. We really do consider them a part of our ohana. 

Found some very fine clouds when I went walkabout after dinner this evening. Didn’t get outside much today so I needed a little airing out. But, I did finish up my book report late this afternoon. Don’t know if anything will come of it. It totally doesn’t matter. Except for the final “formal” book report, I did it for me.  Just to see if I could still play “museum tech”. 

Time for our 911 light show again. That’s not something that I need to photograph again. I don’t think I can improve on last year’s photos. Last year I could open my screen. Since my screen was replaced due to crow damage, I haven’t been able to open it. Enough already. Just take a picture. “Computer, Lights Out”. 

It is totally different this year. The air was very heavy last year and it trapped the light for me. 

I do enjoy yelling at Alexa to turn the lights on and off.

I should be finished my book report by this evening. But NO, I fell down the ephemeral rabbit hole. Spent most of the day researching Chinese New Year Prints from the early 1930s.  There are darn few of them, never mind that millions upon millions were printed. They were printed to be pasted on a wall and then removed and burned. But, I found 8 stashed away since 1930 in one of the 7 books. 

 

And, now I am really tired of looking at Google and my computer. So, that’s it for today. 

Sleep well tonight The Door God has your back.

Entire floors are starting to get locked down. Plus unfortunate individuals who live on other floors. Like my next-door neighbors.  My neighbor’s only crime was to have “close” to one of the infected staff members.  Shit. Shit. Shit.

Worked on finishing up my “book report” all day. If I work on it all day tomorrow, it should be finished. I did the research. I know all that I am going to know. What I am doing now is the boring stuff. Writing a report using complete sentences and paragraphs. I have ZERO interest in the report. But the research was fun.

It seems to be OK now.

The 7 Chinese Books.

Finish my research on these books today. Now, I should write up what I discovered. 

Hope everyone enjoyed Labor Day. In the 60′s and early 70′s, I was a member of the Longshoremen’s Union. ILWU Local 142. We didn’t cross picket lines. We “Looked for the Union Label”. And we never ate California table grapes. Fortunately, California wine grapes were OK. And we drank beer anyhow. “An Injury to One Is An Injury to All” 

Remember boys and girls: Weekends were brought to you by Labor Unions. 

Well, that was easy. Got rid of all the Smuckers Grape Jelly packets. Plus some stray condiments from the fridge. Saved the peanut butter packets. 

I rescued 7 old Chinese books from the asylum art center. Today, discovered who they belonged to. Well, I didn’t discover it. Google did. 

I was using my phone to help me read a faint name written in one of the books. Google, being ever-helpful, picked up the script and took me to a museum archive that led me to a little biography that pointed me to an obit that contained the name of a deceased resident of The Asylum. The books and some Chinese New Year Prints that are just stuck in one of the books would sell for over 10K at auction on a good day and maybe 2K on a bad day. I am sure the books should go back to the family. And to think. I almost turned one of the books into origami paper!

Some women turn into their mothers when they get old. I seem to be turning into a squirrel.

I find myself stashing away things that should be in the trash, recycling, or composting. I got a big box yesterday. It had “nice” kraft paper for stuffing. Plus some packages of air. I had to force myself to get rid of all that. Well, I might “need” a big box. The kraft paper would be “fun” to cut into squares for origami. As if I don’t already have more than enough folding paper. Paper that is already square. And I was too lazy to take the air packages down to recycling. 

And let’s not get started on little packets of condiments. Like there is going to be a worldwide shortage of Smuckers Grape Jelly. Which I don’t even like.  

Time to spend some time “death cleaning”. Do I really want whoever cleans out my stuff to find that I have a stash of Smuckers Grape Jelly packets? On the other hand, will I really care then? I will be dead. 

A fine lazy late summer day.

Pretty OK lobster roll for dinner.

Getting fall allergies. Missed them last year. Wasn’t allowed outside enough to inhale nasty pollen and mold spores. All things considered, I’ll take the allergies.

This morning, I decided to go back to the office. Last time that I was actually in the office was October 29, 2019. The office has moved twice since then. Some new people. Some old people. Some people came and went without me ever seeing them in person.

It was great to be out of The Asylum and back in the “normal” world. But, I don’t think that I’ll be returning to the office on a regular basis. It is just too easy to WFH. 

While at work I got a flu shot and picked up a sandwich and a Starbucks. Had lunch in the park before heading home. I shared my sandwich with a cute little black squirrel. My sandwich. Not my coffee. Just my sandwich.

Upon my return to The Asylum, I promptly took to my bed for a nap. I can only stand but so much excitement. 

It was a good day to watch the weather out the window.  Water was coming in from outside when we were eating dinner. Table cloths were put down to soak up the water. I charged up my two hefty power banks. But, the electricity has been good. By tomorrow it should be all finished and for the first time in weeks, it will be windows open weather.

Think it is time to move on to another version of Dr. Kawasaki’s rose. 

Major Concession to Old Age. Last week I built a big old spreadsheet to track people and their Covid vaccinations. It’s the one that ate up all of my computer memory. Well, yesterday, I had to modify it. Seems that I managed to forget how it fitted together in less than a week. Today, in a Major Concession to Old Age, I installed a  “Notes to Peg” tab to remind me what the data sources are and what tweaks have to be made.  A mental Zimmer frame.  Getting OLD sucks. Not really sure that it beats the alternative. 

Spent the day wrangling data. But, I did knock out 2 roses. I used 6-inch “tant” paper. By the time Alexa reminded me to get ready for dinner, my brain had switched off. Fortunately, all I had to do was go downstairs. Guess I shouldn’t say my brain switched off. We have people here with permanently switched off brains. One sad lady has forgotten how to run the elevator which is a problem when you have a walker and live on the 6th floor.

It really looks like a college should. For no apparent reason, my college looked like a cheap version of Tibet. 

This is Dr. Kawsaki’s original rose.  He said that it was harder than his rosebud. So, I was expecting another 3-week struggle. But, I was surprised to discover that the crease pattern is almost identical to the bud crease pattern, with only 8 additional creases. The twist and the collapse parts are the same. The only difference is what I call the “bottom”. (It is formally known as the “lock”.) But I had had so much trouble with the bottom of the rosebud that I knew everything that could possibly go wrong. 

This is the version that I set out to create so many days ago. Don’t know if I want to try any of the other variations. Maybe I should just stop while I am ahead.

I am bored with summer. I would normally be lolling around at Greenbank Guest House in Bermuda in late August and early September. But, that was BC. Before Covid.