A storm has come in this evening. This is kind of a bummer for me because I don't know how to use Chuck's snow plow, and he is in California. I will park out by the main road and walk in, I guess. The wind was gusting so hard that it blew the cover off the hot tub. There was a series of thumps and bumps and scraping sounds that I didn't recognize; and I called Chuck to have his company while I walked around to the different porches, finding toppled items.
So, how did I amuse myself this evening after work?
First, I did a few chores outside. Since the wind was blowing so hard, I tied my (rather voluminous) skirt in a knot in front of me, so I wouldn't trip on it. I took a metal washtub full of ash from the stove and dumped it in the creek bottom; I filled the same tub with wood that is cut to fit the cook stove and took it inside. I rescued a few things from the yard that I didn't think should get wet or buried: the bags of rock salt Chuck bought a few days ago, and his car roof rack.
I had a glass of wine and made myself same pho. Actually, it was just instant ramen. But instead of using the nasty little flavor packet, I happened to have some special instant pho broth and a couple of pho spice packets. Those went into the pot; and I added frozen peas and corn, and cracked an egg into it. Chuck called me while I was eating. I told him I was eating pho, but not real pho. "Oh!" he said. "Feaux pho."
I concocted a crock pot stew of chicken and Lima beans and put it on to simmer.
I dusted the upstairs, then cleaned off my closet shelf.
I spent some time sorting out family photos. I have become the keeper of the photos, it seems. I keep finding envelopes of them in boxes and the trunk I acquired after Dad died.
My reverie was interrupted by a commotion downstairs. I had opened Jack's cage door in case he wanted to fly around the house a little. He took a lengthy flight and wound up on a high windowsill over a ledge, then apparently decided he could get himself down. I was scared to clamber out on the ledge and get hmi, but I did. He thanked me by shitting on my shoulder. Thanks, Jack. Time for bed.