I got up early this morning to set up sprinklers but didn’t have to.

Hoping for at least an inch of rain. The grass is suffering, and I’m just sorry that I didn’t put down fertilizer.

We had donuts and coffee on the deck this morning.

Ron put together a big shelving unit which we’d purchased to store his goods some time ago; he also managed to get a bit more unpacking done. A couple of boxes went in the attic and a couple of empties in the truck for the transfer station.

I did a quick mow of the front to get it down to 3 inches. It is sad and brown and looked like a hay field. I finished painting the front door, too. Ron put the sloop knocker back on.

Picked a tomato and some nice little cukes for supper. Reorganized the shed to get the big tools off the floor and on hooks.

I dropped by Sea Mist to see if there was a one-floor unit available (there isn’t) and to measure the bed (it IS a queen, 60 inches wide). Did a shop on the way back for lunches this week.

It was hot and humid and not all that pleasant to be outside.

Bad news from Fluffles’ annual checkup this week. He has a growth on his liver and there’s nothing to be done about it other than feed him what he likes to eat and keep him comfortable.

Poor Fluffles is half the size he was when he moved in here.

I took a look at a 5th wheel today in a gorgeous spot, but Ron says we can’t afford it. Pity.

We painted the front door red. It’ll be beautiful with a third coat, so we hope. I remembered that someone told me red is the toughest paint to apply. I think they were right; the first coat was a disaster and the second was only slightly better, but it’s a gorgeous color, perfect with the grey siding.

I planted the iris from Spring Hill today.

We saw two great acts at the Cape Cod Music Festival, Chris Smither and Ronnie Earl and the Broadcasters.

We worked on the grass garden this weekend, and Ron mowed the lawn. I washed the truck. We did the transfer station runs.

I’ve been in heaven the last two days: Irene dragged the sweetest air of the summer behind her, and having taken down power at the office, allowed us to enjoy it.

This late August/early September air is evocative of the happiest times, something I don’t understand since it’s mostly associated with back-to-school, and I’ve hated school, well, forever.

I’ve managed to catch up with a lot of garden chores the last couple of days. I don’t mind the loss of income. I am happy to be here with Ron, Fluffles the cat and the gardens.

The netting we put up before Tropical Storm Irene saved the tomatoes. Unfortunately, about half the corn was knocked over. It remains to be seen what effect this will have on the crop.

We lost power around 2 in the afternoon yesterday, but NStar had us back on the grid around midnight. The frig lost only about 3 degrees, from 45 to a normal 42.

I went out around 6:30 or so to figure out the extent of the power outage (East Falmouth) and take a look at the ocean on Surf Drive.

We recently had some minor tree-pruning done at Dixon. Over the last couple of years, we’ve had major pruning at Edgewater. Maybe just as well with the high winds anticipated later today.

I went out around 8:15 this morning and was surprised at the number of stores that were open.

We’ve been prepping for the hurricane. No D batteries anywhere, and we got the last lantern at Botello (there were none at the local True Value).

I watered with Miracle Gro this morning, figuring it’ll soak in (ha), and planted a coreopsis in an empty spot in front of the fence, figuring it’ll get a good watering.

Ron and I put in about an hour’s worth of work in the grass garden at Edgewater before some heavy rain.

The airways are filled with annoying and predictable news person braggadocio about their region’s toughness in the face of the hurricane:

“New Yorkers are tough enough to handle Irene – we have muggers and subway strikes.”
“We’re tough in California – we have earthquakes.”
“We’re tough in the Midwest – we have tornadoes.”
“We’re tough in Idaho – we have … potatoes?”

The truck is back!

Since heavy rain is predicted for tomorrow, Ron had the good idea to load it up for the transfer station tonight. Given that there was almost two weeks of trash, it was amazing that we got everything to fit.

Should make things much easier tomorrow.

My truck is my best friend.

It’s been in the shop for almost a week and a half, getting new engine parts, and I miss it terribly.

My truck doesn’t care what I look like. Same with computers: they don’t have ego demands around having a thin, beautiful owner.

My truck is there, 24×7, to help me when I need it. It asks nothing in return besides maintenance and gas. Doesn’t care how flat my stomach is or how much I weigh or whether I compare favorably to old operators. It doesn’t pine for them, correspond with them or “friend” them on Facebook.

When the truck comes back, I’ll have to do something nice for it.