It's been some time since I posted a window view. Here's the view in high summer: gloomy today, with storms continually in the forecast, but everything lush and green. As you can maybe see, somebody is living next door. It is not our former neighbors, Beth and Eddie. I'm not actually sure who it is. There seems to be an older lady (as in, maybe my age) in residence, and then some children, but I'm not sure whether they live there or are just visiting grandchildren. They do seem to have a mother, who might or might not also be living there. It's hard to tell.
We haven't crossed paths yet for me to say hello, so it's all a big mystery. One minute Beth and Eddie's sale had fallen through --- after they'd done foundation work, put on a new roof, and all kinds of other things. The next minute all this cosmetic transformation was happening: mulch on (very neglected) flower beds, repainted front door, interior painting, flower baskets on the porch rail, big vertical "Welcome" sign on the porch. Beth and Eddie were much in evidence during all this process, and I assumed that they had hired a home stager and were about to redouble their efforts to sell the house. But then the person whom I took for the home stager is this lady who seems now to be living there. I don't know how it all came about. Anyway, it's nice that the house isn't standing vacant, as we had feared it might.
Meanwhile, the world this week is full of dark tidings: friends' illnesses, the closing of a liberal-arts program that was remaking an entire college (no, not our college), the usual wars and rumors of war, and . . . it's not worse or more important, and in fact is quite trivial in the great scheme of things, but it is an immediately life-changing development for us personally . . . our beloved neighborhood pub is closing. The announcement was quite sudden: they announced this yesterday, and their last day of operation is next Saturday. I don't know what this is about. There had been some kind of feud simmering between our pub and the taproom just off the courthouse square --- with most of the ugliness seeming to come from partisans of that taproom, I must say --- and a few weeks ago the guy behind the bar at our place said that they'd been told they couldn't issue to-go cups for people to take their beer to a downtown outdoor event (we have this "social district" thing where you can walk around downtown with your drink, which why you would want to do that is beyond me, but you can). That had really hit their traffic that particular night, and we've noticed that they haven't had much of a crowd lately in general.
People have left negative reviews on Yelp, etc --- about things that really mystify me, because they don't square with my long experience of that pub and its staff AT ALL. We've never once had anyone speak rudely to us or ignore us at the bar. And we go there because we like the beer they brew: mostly traditional varieties of English, German, and Belgian beers, with relatively few fancy flavored things, which seem to be what most of the bar clientele in our fair city prefer. For the last five years we have been rejoicing in this pub chiefly because it's been so hard to find anywhere that doesn't have a massive menu of IPAs and flavored beers and fruity ciders, and nothing else. You say "dark beer," and they say, "Well, we have this coffee-peanut-butter-and-jelly-creme-brulee imperial stout that tastes like breakfast, lunch, and dessert all in one, with an alcohol volume of 28%, so as long as you weren't planning to drive for the next three days, or sleep . . ."
So, yeah, we're disappointed. On top of everything else.
IN OTHER NEWS,
True Grit is a great novel, and I am enjoying it very much, with gratitude to the Fire Son for pushing me to start it.
The Viking got in last night, and it is fun to have him here. We took him out to dinner on the way home from the airport and had some good conversation.
I am glad I bought Dora this crate bed for the smaller crate: not only are we using it to learn the place command, but I am sitting on it at night by her big crate in the downstairs hall so that she can go to sleep with the possibility of scary fireworks outside. Mind you, there hasn't been much. I did have to drag her out for a final pee last night --- basically I physically dragged her by her harness, then rewarded her with treats for being brave enough to consent to be dragged, in stages, down the front yard, across the street, and over to the strip of trees by the community-college parking lot that functions as our canine lavatory (yes, I clean up after her). All this, because somewhere WAY in the distance, there were one or two distant firework pops. These fireworks were probably in Cherryville, miles away. But they were terrifying. At least we did accomplish this final pee, and then all there was left to do was for her to be a little frantic in her crate until I came and sat with her, so she could pass out.
Yes, yes, there are drugs she can take. I might actually have a couple of Trazadone tablets left, which --- if true --- I will not hesitate to administer on the actual Fourth of July. But I have found that sedatives barely take the edge off, and coming down off them, she becomes hyperactive, jumping and biting at whoever is there . . . it's mostly not been worth the hassle to have her take these meds. But if I do still have these tablets, then I will use them for the city fireworks, because that's going to be BAD.
Alternatively, we could take her driving, way out in the country somewhere, out of the noise. How much we feel like doing something like that, I do not know. I remember when I used to love the Fourth of July, but no more . . .
Today's weather: Again, it's overcast right now, with showers forecast and a projected high of 88F, which is pretty nice, though it's bound to feel very sultry and humid.
Today's agenda:
*walk this poor traumatized dog
*finish my essay on the little poem "Pangur Bán," which a 9th-century Irish monk wrote about his cat, in a notebook full of scholarly miscellany
*look at what other essays I need to do for next week; I know I have 3 to finish
*consider my packing for Nova Scotia: we leave a week from Friday
Re this packing:
I know I'll take all wool, because it travels better than linen, and we're going someplace relatively cool. I will probably need to make room for my rain jacket in my pack, which is kind of a pain, but then again, I've done this twice for Norway, so I know I can do it.
In my carry-on I can readily take
*4 dresses
*1 pair of leggings
*1 cardigan or pullover layer
*2-3 pairs of barefoot sandals/shoes: possibly just my Z-Treks and my Mesa hikers OR my new green Oswegos, not sure which. I could put in my Crocs for Sunday Mass, because they also pack very flat.
*underwear and socks --- only underwear that I can hand-wash and dry quickly (i.e., not my heavier modal bike shorts, which take forever to dry)
Temps will most likely be in the 70s Farenheit, which means that I can wear dresses with some sleeves. I could possibly take both Fiona dresses (my travel champs), my Pacific Brooklyn, and my Audrey in case I want to dress up more, as for a Sunday. That would keep me to a blues-teals-and-greens capsule (with one gray/black dress for a neutral option), which is easy to organize around. Gray-blue leggings. Not sure which cardigan or pullover, though certainly the green pullover I've worn twice to Norway would be in the running, because it's lightweight, warm, but not too hot. A cardigan would probably be more versatile, though, and easier to adapt to wear to Mass. Maybe my cobalt merino cardigan, which is also thin and light, but quite warm.
If I have room for a 5th dress, and I might, I'd opt for Iris Blue Sierra. In fact, I should really plan on that dress and make room for it, because it's my best option for hiking, and it won't be too warm for the climate. Maybe my silk-cotton beige cardigan to go with everything: again, it's lightweight, packs down easily, and is very temperature-regulating. It also looks good worn loose or tied, so it's fairly versatile. I could possibly take that and the pullover, if I found a thinner, smaller rain option. I might just pick up one of those rain layers in a little stuff sack that they always have on the camping aisle at Walmart. I won't need a lot of extra warmth, I don't think, especially if I have some under-layers. Nighttime temps would be in the high 50s Farenheit at the lowest. Slimming my outerwear would give me more room in the pack for other options, so I think I might do that, especially as those little rain jackets are pretty cheap.
Musing aloud here, at any rate, preparatory to beginning an actual packing list. Having drunk my coffee and eaten some Greek yogurt, I think I'll dry my hair a little before I take photos of today's outfit.
Wearing (hamming it up a little because I don't feel very well):
*Secondhand Not Perfect Linen Leila dress (M/L) in Chocolate Brown, bought December 2023, last worn (whoa!) June 9. Wears in 2025: 4
*Secondhand Xero Z-Trek sandals, year 1 of wear
Yeah, do I need more dresses? No, I do not. This one has been criminally under-worn this year so far, though I aim to change that. I love it so much. Every time I put it on, even when --- as today --- I feel sniffly and headachy and kind of gross (allergies? cold? I dunno), I feel instantly beautiful. Though you wouldn't think it, to look at its modest color, it is a magical dress.
Half-dry hair, not styled with any kind of styler. I lathered twice with my usual Humby shampoo bar, then followed that with the Humby conditioner bar, mostly to see what difference it made to use that and not my LUS 3-in-1. The LUS gives more definition to my waves and curls, I think, but I am kind of hoping not to have to pack it for Nova Scotia. I'd love to minimize my liquid toiletries as much as possible, and it would be so easy just to take the shampoo and conditioner bars, which don't need special packing. I don't plan to do a whole lot of hair styling when I travel, anyway. Not taking a diffuser --- air dry all the way when I'm on the go. We'll be mostly by the ocean, where I imagine it'll be windy, so I am not going to bother a whole lot. Claw clips, braids, ponytails . . . that's travel hair for ya.
And now the sun is out, and the dog is ready to be also out.