Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.

 Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net

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» Saturday, September 13, 2014
Me and the Dog and Snowy Makes Three

Tiresomely, James had to work today, which put a hobble on our plans to go to Taste of Smyrna. It's on through eight o'clock, so perhaps we'll get to have something, at least. As for me, I tried to get eight hours sleep, but not sure I succeeded. It was still overcast at nine o'clock, so Tucker and I had a nice walk and breakfast. Next I had an annoying task: I had to hand-wash seven pieces of silverware and four different frying pans—one pan is too big to go into the dishwasher, but the rest of the things had been run through the dishwasher twice and the wretched thing still had not cleaned them. That $500 Bosch is looking really good!

Oh, and I saw one of the male goldfinches at the feeder, and it looks as if it has started to go through its fall moult! One of our trees has leaves turning yellow as well. I'm so chuffed!

Finally I dressed and went to Costco to nab some SkinnyPop; while I was there I could get milk as well, and the BreatheRight strips that were on sale, and I wanted to hunt up another three-pack of Classico tomato-and-basil, as we have volunteered lunch for Hair Day this month and I had an idea for lunch. Got the first three, but they are now carrying other tomato-and-basil sauces that have wretched black pepper in them. Grrrr. They also had long sleeved plaid flannel shirts; I got three for James. Plus two pair of the softest sweatpants ever. I'm longing for cold weather even more, just to wear them.

Plus I was bad: they had the DVD set of Edward the King (Edward the Seventh in the U.K.), and it's one of my favorite miniseries, with a stellar cast: Annette Crosbie, Robert Hardy, and Timothy West as the adult "Bertie," otherwise Edward VII. (Charles Sturridge, now a director who did the 2005 remake of Lassie Come Home, plays the teenaged Bertie.) They already had the companion book to Ken Burns' The Roosevelts out, and, as James is always saying he doesn't know what to get me for our anniversary/my birthday/Christmas, I sent him a text about it.

I had the milk in an insulated bag, so I felt comfortable enough to run into Barnes & Noble to see if the fall issues of Landscape and Landlove were in; the former was, the latter wasn't, but I did find the Fall Preview TV Guide. Ah, well, all the breathless anticipation of this I had as a kid has gone away. I noticed there are at least three new Twelfth Doctor novels out! Also bought the newest Calvin Coolidge biography, which was on the remainder table.

Back home, I had many things I might do, but first I ate lunch, and then I did something I've been putting off since the idea has scared me so much. I put the television on in the spare room, took a book in there, and Snowy's cage, shut the door, and opened his cage door. He didn't come out on his own, so I gently brought him out, and let him fly around the room. Snowy's escaped a couple of times before, and it's really hard on him because he can't perch properly, but I feel guilty keeping him cooped up. So this time it was Tucker who had to curl up and wait. He found a first perch up on the curtains, but I finally got him down, and he flew a bit lower. You can tell he isn't used to flying; oh, how he was panting! After a little of that, I put him back in the cage, and then brought back the carry box.

Schuyler traveled everywhere in her cage, for seven years. She even managed going up that mindbendingly steep road up to the cabin in Gatlinburg in 2007. But he can't do that; he won't be able to balance. Plus there will be no coping with Tucker if he has to sit next to a birdcage with a bird in it; it triggers all his crazy hunting instincts. So Snowy needs to learn to ride in the carry box.

I put a big sprig of millet into it before I tucked him in there, and for many minutes he sat on the bottom of the box and bit at the small perches that were meant to help a bird get between the two larger perches. He eventually got on one of the big perches, and then the other, pecked at the mirror, and ate a couple of kernels of millet. It didn't make him very happy, but he managed it. After about a half hour I put him back in the cage and we watched the first part of Edward the King. (He doesn't seem much the worse for wear; he's behind me now, singing his head off while we watch How the States Got Their Shapes.)

About four I took Tucker outside, tried to play with him a little bit, but he eventually retreated to his "cave" under the table.

[Later: I was dressed and ready when James arrived home, with hat on my head and our chill cloths soaked in cold water and in a ziplock bag. We got "Topper" in the truck and grabbed my seat cane and were off to Taste of Smyrna in a trice. It was pretty crowded when we arrived, so I left James getting some Jamaican jerk while I ran down to the Atkins Park booth and got what looked like two of the last four servings of "drunken pork" and sweet cheese grits. By the time I strolled back to him he was making his way toward me, and we got something from the Thai booth (pad thai for me and a spicy chicken dish for him with a stick of chicken satay). We found a seat at a table, and then I ran down to Williamson Brothers Barbecue for a pulled pork sandwich for each of us. (Turned out the food we had was so filling we are saving the barbecue for tomorrow.) I was sitting at one of the two chairs still at the table when a lady came along with two preschool age grandchildren; she sat them down on the other chair, so I gave her the one I had and sat on my cane seat instead. Those two kids were cute as little bugs; one reminded me of Keshia Knight Pulliam when she was on The Cosby Show.

It wasn't really bad warm when we got there, but the minute the sun got below the tree line it became heavenly, especially when the breeze picked up. We finished our food feeling cool and happy instead of fried like last week at Yellow Daisy, and then tossed our trash, put our sandwiches in the Rollator's underseat carrier, and walked down the line of booths until we reached Bruster's and I bought us two cones of ice cream. We sat under a red maple tree with our dessert and watched the kids on the bungee ropes and in the bounce house and enjoyed the breeze.

Drove home with the windows open and then I took Tucker for a walk; while we were out there I heard fireworks. The announcement said nothing about fireworks at Taste of Smyrna...if we'd known we would have stayed!

Totally creepy Doctor Who tonight called "Listen" about things that go bump in the night that hang out under your bed, including a jaw-dropping episode in a barn that linked to the 50th anniversary special. Hmn. We haven't seen the mysterious Missy in two weeks; wonder where she's lurking. And what's up with Danny Pink (besides the fact that he can't talk to Clara without inserting his foot into his mouth)?]

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