The weather was much kinder today than it was yesterday or Friday, but that doesn’t mean it inspired me to do much. Earlier in the week and as recently as yesterday, I had thought I might go to Rietta Ranch, a big outdoor Sunday morning flea market near me. I haven’t been to this flea market in at least a decade.
It opens early (6:00), and the advice is to “go early” because the good stuff goes fast. This morning, the bedroom window was open and the air was cool and perfect for sleeping, so instead of my usual 6:30 extraction from bed, it was a little past 8:00. By the time I fully woke up, it might be creeping way beyond “early” for Rietta. I decided to skip to the flea market for the same reason I skip most out-of-the-home activities – I hadn’t made a plan to go with anyone and doing stuff alone feels like too much work. Instead, I shopped online for yard decor and ceiling fans and read about plants.
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| Backyard view. |
Around 11:00, I popped out the back door to put
something into the big recycle bin. That’s when I noticed my car. Even living
under the carport, it is currently crusted with gross greenish-yellow pollen that I’ve
been aware of for several days and haven’t made getting to a car wash a priority. That
isn’t the part I noticed. What I saw this morning was that the back cargo door was raised in the
open position. This means that Saturday, at around 4:30, when I took the emptied
yard waste barrels out of the back I didn’t close the door and it was open all night. Oops.
There was a flashback to my Honda CRV and the button
on the remote that popped open the back window on the cargo door. Once, a
friend hit the button while moving my car after I broke my leg. After a couple
weeks of recuperating on the couch, I needed something from the car and learned the battery was dead, drained
by the rear cargo light that turned on weeks earlier on when the window was popped. I don’t know
if the Jeep cargo area has a battery-draining light because I rarely go back
there, but I figured I was going to find out soon enough.
Later in the afternoon, after I had finished reading a book, I decided to try starting the car. It worked, so I took a ride to drop the just-finished book back at the little library at the end of the street and then onward to the local credit union that isn’t my credit union. The closest location for my credit union is a couple towns away, but with the magic of technology, I can withdraw money from my credit union’s account at other institutions’ ATMs and make deposits in person, but today I wanted to know if I could deposit checks into my account using the not-my-credit-union’s ATM. I now know that is not a transaction option available to me and I’ll have to go tomorrow and visit the humans.
The evening air and temperature (in the 70s!) were comfortable and
I thought about continuing the trimming of the overgrown hedges and rhododendrons.
Then I thought about driving down the street to dispose of the trimmings before
the rain that is predicted for tonight turns the contents of the trimmings barrel
into a wet mess. The refreshing breezes, the absolute quiet of the neighborhood, and the view of the lush
woods of the backyard conspired to remind me of a long-ago vacation cabin as I sprawled
on the couch, reading a book as if I were on a vacation. Instead of yardwork, I
did the next most logical thing and stayed in vacation/staycation mode reading a book. It
was perfect.
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