2020: A Bad Country Western Song........

                                               

Staring out over a frosty roof, I slide into my boots and think; it's way too early for this.  This frost has taken my sleepy old dog to a puppy dancing at the back door.  The chickens are slow to tumble out of the coop on a chilly morning.  After a quick morning chore list of dog and chickens.  The warm cup of coffee feels good on cold stiff hands.  I sit, bathed in morning sunlight, reviewing the last couple of weeks and realize my life has turned into a very bad country western song, so goes 2020. 

 

OH and gardens should have been safe until November 1st, because the omnipotent USDA powers changed our growing zone to 6 instead of 5 but even if we were 5 it would have been October 16th.  First Frost is a month early.   

2020 the year everything we hung our hat on or held near and dear just flew out the open window.  Latest rundown on happenings in this large half acre.  I have started drinking with my chickens and it brings me great peace. 

I believe a pack of chickens in Congress might do the country a world of good.  Time out Senator Paul, go sit with the chickens and have a glass of bourbon.  

In other news over the last few weeks..... the basement is full and I am calling this done.

Those 60 mugs got shipped off to Alaska!  The order came in on Aug. 19th, the mugs were done and packed on Sept 8th and they got shipped out Sept 15th.  It took a week to figure out how to get 60 mugs to AK.  I thought I'd cracked the shipping nut and called Air Alaska Cargo.  Yup, 70 pounds of mugs would run $68 to fly standby or $110 for an all at once delivery in days.  I was giddy!  And then the phone person said:  Are you a "known shipper?"  What is that?  I can send you the form.  I opened my email and read all the documents necessary to become a known shipper.  Fine ..... and then the last paragraph.  Please call this number and have an inspector come to your business for an inspection.  Have identification papers at hand..... and the catch: At Your Expense and the second catch: expect 6 weeks to be approved.  I called Alaska Air and said; Hey, I'm in a pole barn otherwise known as the Gargio (garage/studio) with a blind dog and a pack of thug chickens I just need to get these mugs to Alaska. I am 65 years old and not a terrorist, I swear on my chickens head.   Yes, I have a website......  Well ma'ma you know after 9/11 TSA instituted these rules and everyone must comply.  Great are you gonna wand me in my studio too?  No wonder there's a bullet and gun shortage in this country!  Ironic I was talking to this guy on Sept. 11th.   My head went into overdrive on how much we are driven by fear in this country and I will just leave it at that.  Called my lovely coffee people in AK and they said; No problem we will just send our shipping company. This cost them over $350 and they were not outraged.  I was not paying for this and I was outraged.  And as I have never worked with a shipping company I got the Cliffs notes on filling out a bill of lading, getting a pro sticker and packing for container shipping on the high seas of the Pacific Ocean.  And then Span Alaska said; Do you have a loading dock and can our semi fit into your loading dock... and then I blew coffee out my nose.  I can drop these off to your terminal.  I grabbed my 5 copies of BOL, loaded the mugs, loaded the Kirby and google mapped where I was going.  About 40 minutes away I pulled into a dirt parking lot with not a tree in site.  

Inviting right?

Not a human in sight, 3 giant buildings and more loading docks than I could count.  I drove around and finally found a guy with a backpack and rolling suitcase walking across the terminal tundra.  Hey, do you know where the office is?  Nope, but try that building over there.  I parked the van and tried 3 doors.... talk about; Let's Make a Deal!  Finally I parked by a dumpster and found an open door.  Tiny little dark hall and I walked into the mens bathroom complete with circular urinals..... kill me.  Up a set of concrete steps, across a metal bridge down three metal steps and back up more concrete steps to a filthy sliding glass window and buzzing fluorescent light.  A woman in an orange vest, standing at a copier waved and then walked away.  HEY, is this the portal to shipping Hell!  A younger gal slid the window open and shoved her hand through.  I placed two BOL's in her hand and the window slid shut.  HEY, I need your pro sticker and a signed copy back!  She looked through the dirty window and got a roll of stickers and started stickering everything, handed a copy back and said pull to the dock.  Which dock would that be?  Pull around to the ramp and wait there! Wow she had a voice.  OK ..... found the ramp and waited and waited and waited.  I thought fine, I'll carry my three boxes up the ramp and set them on dock.  As I walked the first box up the ramp I hear: STOP RIGHT THERE AND DROP THE BOX, WE ARE A UNION SHOP!  Well what the hell does that mean?  Means you cannot do anything except wait for one guy on his coffee break to get on his tow motor and come retrieve your 3 boxes from the back of your van and then they put more stickers on the boxes.  BUT!  When I opened the back door and the woman saw Kirby she transformed into a lovely chatty person right before my eyes.  She said out loud and reaching for Kirby; I JUST LOVE DOGS......  and the shipping nut was cracked!  She radioed for the tow motor guy to get his ass out to the shipping dock and I waved goodbye to the mugs and hope they make their journey to AK in one piece!  I drove home feeling like the weight of the 60 mugs had been lifted off my shoulders!  

I cleaned the studio of bubblewrap, packing tape, boxes and packing mess to get ready to start a new cycle. 

Then the week just kind took a downward spiral....... Wednesday started the last push of canning season.  Hunt for jars, no jars or lids to be had in northeastern Ohio or western PA.  So just make due with what you have.!  The cupboards got cleaned as I hunted every shelf and closet looking for jars.  Old jars from the basement were washed and traded for new jars currently used for storage.   

Ended Wednesday evening dating all my really old jars.  Some jars well over 100 years old were retired to holding dry goods and jelly beans.  Figure if I make a 100 I hope somebody sticks me on shelf and fills me with jellybeans so I can make people smile.  One of many life goals...... 

Chart to Date Ball Jars

Then my kitchen faucet finally sprayed it's last dish.  It was wobbly and leaked like a bad fire hose.  I ordered a new one online.  

and then had to install it....... take note, it's not me this time :) 

until he dropped the flashlight into the crack between the pipes.  Guy fix...... just leave it, the battery will go dead at some point.  Then I found myself saying; are you nuts?  This is not my idea of under cabinet lighting.  Do we need a welcome light for furry creatures coming from the basement.  I ran out to the studio and grabbed my glazing tongs to retrieve the flashlight.  Thought I had it only to bring a mouse trap with petrified mouse.  From under the sink I yelled;  GET A BAG NOW!  placed mouse and trap in a bag and handed it out.  Nothing, just my arm with a dead mouse waving in the air.  I peered out from the cabinet and glared at him ........ you have shoes on, you take it outside!  Back to fishing for the flashlight.  Got it! 

TA-DAH!!!!

Friday I found out I have a nasty patch of skin cancer and had it hacked off my face.  Sent in for tests and of course they didn't get it all and going back in for more..... silver lining to this story.  It's mandatory to wear a mask in public and second it's almost Halloween and I am going as the Bride of Frankenstein.  

Took Kirby outside to rough house and enjoy the cool weather.  During one of his spin-derella espisodes he blew out a front ankle.  Now I had three legged dog and was drinking bourbon with my chickens.  

Then RBG passed away 

Yesterday, thinking things couldn't get much worse; a yellow jacket crawled up my boot and wedged it's stinger wielding body between my covid tight pants and shin.  ZING!  Son of a cherry bomb my leg is on fire.  Smashed the yellow jacket on the driveway and put ice on the sting.  This morning it's red and itchy.  

So bring on October and Halloween while I call Garth Brooks.