Blowin' Like Stink

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.