Yard Work

Do you remember when I discovered my backyard leaking water into my Jersey City basement on New Year's Eve?

Water was pouring in through the closed-off hatch (maybe an old coal chute? hard to say) and through cracks in the wall nearby. I had a hard time finding anyone to deal with it. I called the landscapers in town—the best-known of them sent over a guy who showed up with alcohol on his breath, then kept saying he'd send me an estimate.

He never did.

Scavengers

In October, something was happening with squirrels and corn in the backyard. It may be that the nuns grew the corn and the squirrels stole the corn, or maybe they only stole from the nun's trash.

Happy Holidays

Los Angeles' train station was all decked out in holiday cheer tonight.

Making Stuff

Today's accomplishments!

The mug is too small, but maybe you can't tell from a photo. The bowl is the right size for eating oatmeal or fruit and yogurt or anything that fits in a regular bowl.

National Bundt Day 2019

Today was National Bundt Day!

I haven't celebrated for years, but today I made a Bundt cake and took it to work.

The tunnel of fudge didn't really form this time, but there's always next year.

Arrival

September 12, Tokyo Airport.

I mailed a small box to myself, containing work clothes, a few odds and ends, and some Japanese fabric from the Tokyo garment district. I intended to send it airmail so it would beat me home, but the airport post office didn't take credit cards. All the yen in my pocket amounted to enough for sea mail.

My new fabric arrived today!

Fun With Ride-Sharing

Last night, as I do every Monday night since the buses stop before pottery class stops, I used my phone to summon a Lyft to take me home from the Burbank Rec Center.

The driver told me her stomach hurt.

She said she'd vomited, but she lives in Sun Valley so at least she didn't too far to drive home.

She thinks it was the fish tacos.

Quirks

I was reading up on my JC house this morning in an article from 9/26/1895.

And now I have a new question. Or three.

Where is my well? What is in it? Can it be excavated, like a privy?

Is my house a red house secretly a buff (tan) house covered in reddish-brown paint?

Where can I find this speaking tube?

Funny How Things Work Out

When I was a college radio dj in southwestern Ohio, I remember talking to one of the classical announcers who asked about my plans for the future.

At this point in my life, I'd just learned it was possible to get a master's in pop culture or American studies, and mentioned I was considering doing that.

He was horrified and said so.

"You can't be serious. You'd have to write papers about Batman."

I remember the disconnect between us in the conversation. He was saying this like it was a bad thing.