So I left for the pool just after it happened, but I was on my deck when a lone Blue Angel flew low over my head. Like directly overhead. I could see the leading gear panels. Not quite rivets, but still. It was the only pass they made directly over the hood.
So that was kinda cool.
And then I went and watched them do maneuvers over the harbor from the field.
Liese, I am so sorry. I'm glad Dave could be there with his father at the end.
I dug a hole. A big, big hole, about 3' in diameter, and about 2' deep. This involved removing the following:
Weed mat - which is MADE OF SATAN
Roots leftover from the planting bed's previous inhabitants - this involved breaking out the saw
Clay. Lots of clay. (Welcome to Missouri)
The good news is, the 8-10" of soil on top of the FUCKING WEED MAT was good, loamy soil, full of worms and other goodness (once I removed the rocks and roots). I put that aside for re-filling the hole when I get the lovely, wee blue spruce that will go in place of the crappy shrubs that I had ripped out a couple of months ago. I will have to do a little more work on the hole in coming days, mostly breaking up the clay that's in the bottom portion of the hole and working in some compost.
In other news, my legs are sore from the bending and the digging. Also, I discovered I can rip out a sizeable chunk of root-bound weed mat simply with the power of my glutes, hamstrings, and rage. Of course, I did land on my butt when the last bit of mat gave way, but it was worth it. That stuff is nasty. After the first couple of years, it does nothing to stop weeds, but a decade after the fact, it makes it a pain in the ass to rip out unsatisfactory plants and dig holes for new ones.
I keep thinking I smell gas in the living room. I have no gas appliances other than the water heater and the furnace, and there's no smell in the alcove where the gas heater is and the furnace guy was under there yesterday and said he didn't detect any leaks. It's intermittent, which makes me think there's something else in that mess that's outgassing--could be a can of spray paint that's getting nudged as I clean, could be just about anything. Beloved, I love you, but you were such a god damned hoarder.
If you call the gas company, they will probably sent someone out to make sure it isn't gas or the furnace. They are paranoid that way.
Jilli, checking in from my Target to report success x 2.
Put on jeans and a sweatshirt to go down to the field to watch fireworks @9:30. Wonder if we'll get acapella Star-Spangled Banner sung or not. (All of this, the cannons, Blue Angels, fireworks: bicentennial of the Anthem.)
Wonder if we'll get acapella Star-Spangled Banner sung or not
You could sing this instesd!
[link]
(I highly recommend checking out 1814! The Rock Opera tomorrow in Patterson Park at 7:30. We're doing that and then somehow trying to make it across town to the 8 pm O's game. This is the last performance and we really don't want to miss it! It is completely made of AWESOME.
I have been feeling surreally unwell all week. Had an ER visit mid-week and haven't been able to snap back. I swear, right now I feel more like I'm on a dose of dilaudid than I did on Friday when I actually got it (my nurse is taking advantage and scheduling visits when they're best for her--I don't mind--without a job the difference between Friday and Sunday is enh.
But, damn, my tinnitus feels like it's horribly loud, I don't want to eat, and it's pretty miserably hot here. But the air conditioner sounds like worse tinnitus more than anything...
Taking the opportunity to listen to music, which I don't often. This explicit Jamaican swearing in between Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse is more haphazard than eclectic. I do not know 1/3 of the music I've starred in iTunes.
Oh, and my ex broken ankle hurts. My whole body feels like it's whining...
I don't know the words! Ok, putting boots on (field is wet) and walking down the street to join some neighbors.
Your whole week sounds surreal, ita! And not in a good way.