Still holed up. in A small but passable life.

I finished reading “Love In The Ruins” by Percy Walker. It was published in 1971 but could have been written this year. It was that prescient. It took me two full weeks to read it. It was book number fifteen for the year. I guess I could have read it quicker but my current daily habit of lying down with NPR on the radio starting at 1pm and lasting until 4 or 4:30pm really shortens my day.

The last count I heard was 18 days that have been over 110 degrees so far this year. We added another one today at 113. And another one tomorrow at a forecast 112. The record is currently 25 days, set back in 2011. We’re getting close to another record.

The brand new automobile is now one month and three days old. We got it with 18 miles on the odometer. It now has 136 miles on the odometer.

We haven’t bought any gasoline since the last week in May.

On the way to the library I stopped at the car dealer’s to check on the dashboard cover that hasn’t arrived yet. The guy had no clue. I told him when he gets it figured out and when it arrives to call me.

At the library I ordered three books. Two non-fiction; one from inter-library loan and one that the library had to purchase, and one novel.

That’s all but one novel left on my list. Desperate times coming.

I guess Costa Rica is off the list for retirement. There have been something like 300,000+ Nicaraguan refugees, so far, streaming into Costa Rica. It may be getting a little crowded.

Ecuador?

Oh yeah, a completely new thing! I’m now grinding coffee beans every morning. I bought two different brands of beans to try out. So far, so good. Mom likes the one we’re drinking now. And no more plastic Folger’s coffee cans to deal with. The bottom part, the ‘can’ could go in recycling but the lid couldn’t. Two different grades of plastic. Stupid. Only several hundred paper filters to go and I can switch to that fancy wire filter I bought.

I’ve only written a few sentences in my paper journal since I’ve last written on here so that confirms the sanguinity of my current situation. Situation? Current station in life?

Whatever. As long as I’ve got something to read it doesn’t matter where.