I was up ’til one this morning, trying to get something to work between Google and me. I didn’t get it working, but I figured out exactly what was broken, which is an accomplishment for this little cookie from the slide rule generation. (I remember I was really pleased to have a “round” slide rule to carry in my purse. Wonder where it is now?)

I overslept and woke thinking, “What if my heart stops today?” I thought about pulling the blanket up over my head. But I got up and hollered – yes, hollered and I do hate the yelling from room to room thing. Got Cameron dropped off at school and waved at Summer and Alison – our resident sickies – misplaced and found my mini-recorder, stuffed extra batteries in my vest and headed out the door. Then I came back in for the keys.

Called Mother from the car and told her I’d call again later.

Then the old, old diesel and I trundled on down the road . . . and it was sunny.

I had a great time at the construction site. The guy from the energy agency, the vocational instructor, learning so many new things about special ways to do basement walls and something called “sip” walls and recessed ceiling lights that have the potential to be big heat losers.

I liked the instructor; he was one of those fellows I could drive across the country with and not feel as if we had to cut the car in half or flip a coin to see who got killed between here and California. The kids were great; I like good kids – really like them. At one point I said, climbing up and over a big, big stack of plywood, “Hey, I’m sixty guys, give me a hand.” I lied; I’m 59. I had to laugh; when I tell my age to most, a lot exclaim that I can’t be that old (which, of course, is why I mention it in the first place). When you’re dealing with high school juniors and seniors, they don’t react like that. You’re old. Oh, yeah.

I told the instructor the hour I spent there had made my day – that I’d be upbeat all day. So far, so good – even if I can’t tweak the template to get Google to see what I want it to see for a few hours.

Sydney and I even went out to the fairgrounds and he got to run and sniff, sniff, sniff.

The wind switched over and was coming from the north, however, and I took shelter from the gusts on the south side of the log cabin, looking down toward the grandstand, a view that was always so pleasing until the ancient structure burned down. The new one is metal and safer, but it doesn’t tug at my emotions the way the old wooden white one did.

Floral Hall is always a good link from the past to me to the future. I’m sure it leans to the north, but they tell me it’s solid. At the fair, it’s home to quilts and local history; flowers and canned goods are there too, but the display is pretty small, compared to the days of my childhood when I was taught to scrape the paraffin off the top of the jelly and jam my grandma made.

Tonight it gets colder; tomorrow it snows. Well, that’s okay.

” . . . woke thinking, “What is my heart stops today?” Okay, so I’ve got my ups and downs.