We had to remove the curtains when we papered the kitchen, so I spent a fair part of today washing windows, which will probably make it rain tomorrow. I ordered yellow valances from Target at the same time I ordered the rest of the wall paper.
The Squire removed the inside of the dishwasher door and wiggled a few wires, but couldn’t find anything that would explain why the machine wouldn’t work. It’s an older model, and the Maytag help line wasn’t much help, so he pulled the entire machine out from under the counter, tapped and prodded, and then I helped him get it back in place. He slammed the door – and it started running! Not one to waste water and power, I opened the door and loaded the breakfast dishes.
Nada.
Considering the perverseness of inanimate objects, it will begin to work perfectly ten minutes after we order a non-refundable part from Maytag.
. . . Or Not, as the case may be. Sarah and Abraham are not my choice of role models.
Be that as it may, the kitchen really needed a deep cleaning, and I had announced yesterday that “we” were going to get on it this morning.
The first crack out of the barrel, we discovered the dishwasher doesn’t work. I pulled out the dish pan and drainer and began shifting things around. Ugh. The Squire reported for duty, and I told him one of us needed to wash up and one of us had to scrub the kitchen doors. Both the inside door and the storm door needed a good going-over, and there was still a brown mark on the frame where Blazer had rubbed against it coming and going. The dog died in December, but it’s been too cold to work outdoors or have the doors sitting open. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
While The Squire cleaned the doors, the carport and the front sidewalk – one thing always leads to another – I pulled stuff out of the fridge and wiped it down, inside and out, and generally played Pick Up And Put Away. Almost as much fun as playing Let’s Pretend We’re Moving. I even removed the cat flap from the door to the back room and scrubbed that down!
Several weeks ago, I found some removable wallpaper at Target, and bought one roll to show The Squire, which met with an enthusiastic response. Since we already had things pretty much in an uproar already today, we decided to put up that one roll and see how it looked before we ordered more. This stuff really is pretty easy to use. It’s very similar to Contact Paper, but it can be removed and repositioned any number of times. I would imagine that if you were renting and sick to death of plain white walls, it would be a godsend. The biggest problem is that there isn’t a square corner or level surface in this house, and the pattern repeat is HUGE; I told The Squire I felt as if I was trying to paper Cymyoy, which is a little church we visited when we went to Wales
St. Martin’s was built on a slag heap, and the ground has been slipping ever since it was completed. This picture is looking toward the Altar, and there’s another of the exterior. I told my godson this was where the Little Crooked Man Who Walked A Crooked Mile worshiped, and he remarked that he didn’t know the man was still alive!
Anyway, this is the new paper. We put up the one roll we had, and I’ve ordered three more to finish the job. This was the hard part, as we were working around windows and a cabinet. The next bit should be a lot easier. Or not, depending.
This is a post card shot of the exterior of the little church, and as you can see, it is even more crooked than the Rice Paddy!
The Squire had to run to the store this morning, and as he was getting out of his car he was hit in the head by an empty cigarette packet. He stopped, looked at the packet, and then at the driver of the pickup truck next to him. The driver simply shrugged and continued to puff away.
The Squire looked at the packet a second time, and then at the driver. No result. On the third go-round, the woman sitting next to the driver spoke up.
“Harold, get off your lazy a** and pick up your own trash. You know better!”
The Squire couldn’t see the woman well enough to tell if she was Harold’s wife or mother, but Harold did start to open the door of his truck, and The Squire walked away.
Actually, that was my sister’s attitude, but The Squire seems to have decided it was a good plan, as well.
It is hot enough that we needed to put the air conditioner back in the living room window. As you can see on the far left, the bushes around the front of the house have gotten a leettle bit out of control. “No problem”, sez The Squire. “I can trim them a bit.”
Can you say “Scorched Earth”?
It looks as if Sherman took this route on his March to the Sea.
My trusty, dusty Nissan has finally bitten the dust. This car has been a real workhorse, racking up almost 160,000 miles, and costing us much less in repairs than the Kia The Squire drives, and it is a 2009. I bought it around 2007 and paid $6,000 for it. About a week ago, it started making a dreadful noise, so we took it up to our local mechanic, who informed us the rear axle has an internal problem of some sort. He did say that; he honestly explained what was wrong, but it went clear over my head, so there’s that. “You can drive it for another month or so, but I really wouldn’t recommend it.
So now, we are off to find another car – another Nissan – to replace this one. Wish me luck!
I fixed a salad for supper today and it was met with great applause from The Squire. It goes well with just about any main dish, fish or fowl. Quick and easy, and I don’t think there’s anything in it you don’t have at home. If you don’t have what it calls for, substitute!
Whisk together:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon each salt and pepper
2 tablespoons red-wine vinegar (I didn’t have any, so I used a raspberry balsamic, but I’ll bet a malt vinegar would do as well)
1 cup chopped roasted red bell peppers, rinsed (I can’t think of a substitute for this one)
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped pistachios
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley or cilantro
Combine with:
2 cups cooked quinoa (I used a packet of Aldi’s 90 second Quinoa and Brown Rice)
This is supposed to serve four, but I was lucky to have any left at all. It is good hot or cold, and is absolutely delicious!
Well, the snapping turtles didn’t appreciate the cicadas I tried to feed them the other night, but this morning The Squire and I watched two squirrels sit on the patio and eat one after another. They each ate six and then, apparently satisfied, they scampered back the the trees.
They would grab the bug and begin chewing on the nether end, then toss the head and wings, before scurrying away to get another one.
The church we attend is one of the Queen Anne Parishes, and dates back to the 1700s.
Last summer, The Squire spent many, many days working beside a group of people from various archeology organization, including a professor from the University of Maryland and some of his students, and representatives from the Archeology Association of the Upper Chesapeake, as well as the Maryland Historical Trust. There were other volunteers, some of whom used ground penetrating radar, and a drone.
Yesterday, he received a letter from Jacob Benson, chair of the Harford County Historic Preservation Commission, stating that the church has been recognized for their efforts in preserving the history of Harford county in general, the Joppa Seaport in particular. Mind you, Joppa Towne hasn’t been a seaport for almost two centuries, because it silted up pretty quickly, when the local farmers started tearing down trees and plowing the hills up and down, so all of the top soil ran into the water.
You can see the video at: harfordcountymd.gov/2420/historic-preservation-awards
Scroll down to the third video, which shows Colonial Joppa. What appear to be a lawn mower and a roto-tiller were actually different kinds of radar equipment. It doesn’t mention The Squire by name, but he is parish representative, and received the award for the church.
There’s been a lot of chatter about how cicadas are edible – if you have a strong stomach. It is recommended that you pick the newly-hatched bugs off the tree, the ones that are still soft and white, rather than dealing with the “ripe” adults. I collected a snack-sized bag of them and put it in the freezer, which is suggested as a more humane way of killing them.
So far, so good, but when I took the bag out of the fridge, I took the coward’s way out, and decided to feed them to the snapping turtles. The only thing they’ve ever taken from me as food is store-bought white bread, so 1) they looked close enough to scraps of S-BWB that they’d take them without question, and 2)I figured they would really like these delicacies.
Well, was I ever wrong! One turtle did accept the first cicada I offered (Shades of Terry Pratchett’s Rat-on-a-Stick!) , but spat it out immediately, and none of the others would even come near them.
There must be some sort of telepathy going on!
I just dumped the rest of the bugs into the pond. Maybe the snappers would change their minds, and if not, somebody downstream got a treat.
We have four turtles in the pond right now, which is at least five too many, and two of them insist upon me feeding them more or less by hand. I put a hunk of bread on the end of a lilac twig and they will swim over and take it. Oddly enough, they are both very gentle when they do this. However, if I don’t move fast enough, they will haul themselves out of the pond and come after me. Nothing will get your attention faster than being barefoot and in the vicinity of a snapper!
thisendoftheswamp 