“Remoted” – Day 411 (Saturday)

Here is the 4-1-1 on day 411 of remoted life. And that, for any younglings in the audience, was the number to call for “Information,” back in the prehistoric days before the internet and Google. It was possible to get the time, temperature, someone’s phone number (as long as it wasn’t unlisted), or maybe even a brief conversation.

This morning, while opening the kitchen curtains in the window over the sink, the outdoor rug from the deck was spotted in the middle of the back yard. The crazy wind had blown it, and the chairs that had been set upon it, clear off the deck and into the yard. They were retrieved and replaced on the deck, and within an hour, one of the chairs had again blown into the yard. Those poor deck chairs are going to be beaten to crap in no time.

Anyway. There was a loose and tentative plan for this morning to maybe meet Mom to attend the flea market at the Finnish club in Fitchburg. The ongoing wind (and life in general) is sucking the life out of me, and Mom and I share an appreciation for having options for activities but not necessarily acting on them. This meant that the cancellation option was exercised, for the maybe going plan. There was still an errand on my day, and if I hadn’t committed to it, it would likely have been skipped.

A few days ago, someone posted in a Facebook group that they had found in their walls several issues of Raivaaja, the Finnish language newspaper that was published in Fitchburg from 1905 to 2009. Instead of just being chucked into the trash, the papers were offered to anyone who wanted them and I spoke up. If nothing else, I could try and practice my Duolingo Finnish lessons with reading the paper. 

Raivaaja = "Pioneer"

There were a couple text messages in recent days to confirm the pickup, and this morning to firm up the time.  This evening, the newspapers were removed from the brown paper shopping sack labeled “Newspapers.” The bag had been hung on the front door of the pickup site, a small red house at the end of a very long street that ended in a dead end. The papers are from May 3, 4, 5, 8, and 12 of 1945. They had been rolled, probably to stuff them in the space in the wall, and a couple seem to have a clean hole through them, likely from a nail. Hopefully, they will soon flatten out enough to handle.  

Beyond drinking coffee, feeding myself, and fetching the papers, the rest of the day revolved around the Xfinity “Watchathon,” clearly designed to showcase the many additional cost subscription channels. It’s been going on since Tuesday, but I didn’t know about it until Friday, and Acorn, the channel with British shows is in the free Watchathon. There are shows to see and time is short, because this free viewing gig ends on Monday.