Good morning friends.
My what an interesting weekend I had…
On Friday, after the bad news about my knee needing surgery, I joined Bonnie and our friend Wendy for some drinks. We met at Wendy’s house in Summerhill and planned to walk to Eventide Brewing. Yes, per the doctor I am allowed to walk. Activities that are straight-line motion are okay because they don’t torque the knee and thus neither further tear the meniscus nor have me grimacing in pain. Along our walk a guy called out to us from his front porch, and lo and behold it was one of my coworkers. I knew that he had moved from Grant Park, but to where I did not know, and you know, this whole Coronavirus thing has eliminated the hallway chitchat moments; though about that I am certainly not complaining. Our evening sitting outside and consuming beers was lovely.
Saturday morning found me doing a short walk around East Atlanta with Betsy and her dog Bella. While waiting on them to arrive I found a rarity, a Creative Loafing paper box, which had a current issue inside of it; I had no idea that Creative Loafing still existed! I pulled out the last remaining paper, who knows how many were stocked initially, and was flabbergasted and saddened by the scant sixteen pages. In the 1990s Creative Loafing was probably four times as thick and was what guided my existence when I first moved to Atlanta.
Saturday afternoon Bonnie and I drove down to Macon (!) to do some beer drinking (!!’). The weather was sublime and we had three Hop Passport stops to hit. Frustratingly all parking in downtown Macon is metered, so there was an added expense, and because Macon is a hour-plus drive we thought it best not to have six beers while visiting. ðŸ˜‰ The beers were fine, the day was fun, and we returned to the ITP Estate for a fire and frozen pizza. Weeeeeeeell, there would have been pizza had I not dropped every single slice while trying to carry it to the patio. ðŸ¤¦ðŸ»â€â™‚ï¸ To say I was not pleased with myself is an understatement, to say that Wee Little Hulk emerged is more accurate.
Because mountain biking is a current no-no for me, I skipped Wheelhopper and spent a good three hours in the backyard pulling English ivy, four bags’ worth, instead; still plenty more to pull, I need goats. Upon allowing myself a couple minutes rest I heard a large truck coming down my street. I could see the truck was a Walmart tractor trailer, which surprised me. I subsequently watched it drive passed my house and rip down a cable while doing so. In anger I “rushed” to the street yelling for the truck to stop, but it did not. I quickly assessed that the cable was not attached to my house, which was better for me than for my neighbor. My yelling caught the attention of another neighbor who was driving out of his driveway and took the action to follow the truck and get pertinent information about it while I informed my neighbor of their bad luck. By the time the fiasco had ended my lust for yard work had been drained, though I did manage to plant about six garlic bulbs in hopes that I will be able to have homegrown garlic next year.
The rest of my day was rather mundane, filled with puttering around the house, television watching, dinner making, and falling asleep at an absurdly early hour.
How are things with you? Hope your weekend was a happy and healthy one.
I just had a momentary power outage, and because my electrical mast has a lower-hanging cable attached to it (my phone line), I am nervous that I did not get by unscathed after all. ðŸ¤·ðŸ»â€â™‚ï¸ This same thing happened to my house a few years back and I had to have an electrician come out at my expense, to repair the main electrical mast. Of course it looks wonky to me now… ðŸ˜ŸðŸ¥´
I feel I should find a daisy and play â€œShe Loves Meâ€ but in my version itâ€™d go like this:
I love my house
I hate my house
I hate my house
I hate my house
I hate my house
I love my house
If you’re still in need of mulch, I learned about http://www.chipdrop.com this weekend that is apparently a place to sign up for free mulch.
Bummer about your knee requiring surgery. And I’ve had my power lined ripped from my house once. If you call Georgia Power about it, all they’ll do is come and disconnect you from the pole, so if you have concerns, call an electrician instead.
Thanks. I never heard from the company from whom I thought Iâ€™d be getting chips, so I may check out this site.
I have found out that a torn meniscus isnâ€™t that rare.
Yeah, I know Georgia Power is of no use to me. I am going to see how things go today. As I found out by searching this space, I had to get an electrician out in 2016 for a cost of $850 out of my pocket.
Friday and Saturday were about as lovely a day you could ask for. I enjoyed riding in the mountains, once I got off the 4 lanes. I wandered all over, stopping at Brasstown Bald for a walk to the top. Realized the Google didn’t have all the roads I needed, called my friends and they met me halfway and led my in.
The house is stunning with wonderful views of the mountains. Dinner was cooked, wine bottles were emptied, stories told. A wonderful evening. Rode home Saturday in time for the opening hunt bonfire.
Cleaned house Sunday and tried to upgrade an old laptop with Windows 10. Still trying.
Fun Wheelhopper riding with Barb. Too bad I couldnâ€™t find the back half of the turkey trail but at least I got about 7 miles in. Had it not started raining (turns out it didnâ€™t last long) and other turkey folks were giving up to go back to the start, I wouldâ€™ve tried a bit harder to find trail. As some of you know, I hate not finishing true trail. ðŸ¤“ I canâ€™t imagine riding some of that trail on my old bike without suspension. Grateful for my new bike.
After the house cleaning yesterday, we filled the truck with enough for a run to the dump. Mostly an old, dead sofa. Our usual dump in Coweta has stopped taking household (news to me). The nice lady directed me tot he new dump without telling me that a hard hat and safety vest are required. The nice lady at that dump so informed me and said she TOLD the other lady to let folks know. Off to Lowes. $20 later, and wearing my natty construction chapeau and vest, am able to dump. I love living in the country, sometimes.