I am trusting that the vast plume of smoke, originating in widespread wildfires north and west of us in Canada, will not bring any of the pollutants into my breathing space as it passes overhead. The sun, this morning, showed through the haze as a bright orange, and the orb reflected on our grey car as though it was a trio of red laser beams. It left me wondering for a few moments what snipers could be targeting our car.
I enjoyed my ARRL Field Day weekend of relaxing and reading using my Nook Book. I read The Little Paris Book Shop from beginning to end. It is heartfelt, magical, and brilliantly awesome. In its own way, so is The Shepherd’s Life: A Tale of the Lake District by James Rebanks.
As much as I hate to admit it, reading paper books really is beyond me, right now. Sometime before the end of the year, we both need to make appointments with an optometrist for new glasses. I have spent most of today with the lights turned off, reading and working by outside light. And so I have gotten from six o’clock this morning to six this evening still able to see comfortably.
My sister and her daughter have arrived in town for a ten-day stay. I am not sure I will be up to going out with them, but they plan to call and come over to the house for a visit. I look forward to that. I think its been seven or eight years since we last saw them.
I expect that with the vision problems and family and friends visiting in July, followed by repair work on the house, removing old concrete sidewalks, and regrading the yard, I will be spending less time on the Internet. Perhaps 10 years ago, the neighbor to the south of us raised his yard six inches higher than ours by adding landscape bark and dirt. So we now need to rescape our lot so that the runoff heads to the storm drains rather than the house. It rains less often, I think, but it seems much heavier, more concentrated, when it does rain. Anyway, the old sidewalks have settled in the soft soil and now slant toward the house, and so they have to go.
SpO2 = 91%
Pulse rate = 70 bpm