I did not hurt my little toe on my right foot on my scooter; I walked my toe into the really heavy metal box I purchased to stash some of Mother’s important papers in. Just this morning I was telling Quentin on the phone about my marathon lawn mowing Thursday at Grandma’s and mentioned breaking a few “Sarah rules”. Oh, rules like mowing around the house by hand; I used riders for everything. Then, this very afternoon, I got up and walked full stride into the Mother Box. I don’t remember moving it into a different position along the walking pathway, but there it was.

My toe clearly was aimed 45 degrees away from the toe next to it; it’s not so noticeable now because it is SWELLING. I have four toes and a blob.

UPDATE: It is now Monday morning. I was interrupted yesterday when Summer sat down next to me . . . and I forgot to come back. It was traumatic; Summer had a rubber spider that had a hole in its neck and she was blowing it up to the size of a small balloon. Yes, this is my life.

Yesterday I looked at the weather and saw five days of rain staring me in the face, starting today. So, yesterday, I thought, “Yikes” and headed up to Mother’s to mow. The weather conditions had been very good for growing and as I turned the corner, the word derelict passed through my mind. So began about six hours of grass cutting – an activity I am thinking of making a formal ritual with ice coolers and the blessing of the gas cans.

The grass was tall enough it was a little like a harvest. I went back and forth and round in circles . . . and Sydney walked behind me all the way. His feet were green  and I tried to get him to lie on a sleeping back in the shade where he could see me. But no, there he was, plodding behind. I don’t know if he thinks this sheep really needs directing or if his eyesight has failed to the point of needing to be close. We pulled into Wendy’s on the way home and I got him two Double Stackers; I went next door and got an 89 cent 5 layer beefy burrito. We got home at 8:30 pm just as it was getting fully dark. Sydney and I both lay down.

Now, today, which was supposed to be yesterday’s rainy tomorrow, is sunny for now and I am not complaining. I think I am going to go ride my scooter . . . as soon as the aspirin and tylenol kick in.

YES!! I got the spark plug out and I took it over to Ralph at Hayden Honda; I held it in front of me, still in the little spark plug remover socket, sort of like an altar boy with a candle. He verified it was fouled and showed me the carbon particle that was misdirecting the spark. So, with new spark plug in hand, I headed home and bent to the task on the garage floor. I mention that because I am suddenly wondering why I did the garage floor thing yesterday and today in two pairs of good jeans instead of a $3 pair from GoodWill.

But, anyway, I got the spark plug in and put the cover back on and . . . held my breath and turned the key and pushed the starter button and it came to life. YES! Oh, by the way, somewhere in that process, I started breathing again . . . or I would be dead now.  Sorry. That’s not my line; it’s a quote from As Time Goes By with Judi Dench and Geoffrey Palmer. Palmer plays the husband Lionel and I adore him. He talked about stopping breathing when he first saw Jean (Dench), then after a pause added, “Of course, I started again or I’d be dead.”

Ah, but back to the scooter; I rode it over to the fairgrounds and then down past the middle school, giving it a little gas as I did so. I thought perhaps someone might say something about the old lady on a scooter and Summer would know (without saying we were related) that it was running again. It took courage to go by the school; I had to tell myself, “Steady now; you don’t want to fall and humiliate her.” Of course, my imagination had me crashing and the paramedics coming and someone saying, “Say, Summer, isn’t that YOUR grandmother?” But by the time I made it through that scenario, I had already negotiated the trip past the three sides of the school and was headed home.

Now, I guess I will clean myself up and make an appointment to have my hair colored. Gosh that will be boring. Maybe I’ll just wear my helmet all the time . . .

I woke up thinking to myself that I should try to do something about the spark plug. Finding it would be a good start and so, after running Alison to work, I figured out how to access the spark plug area – which is under a floor panel next to the gas cap cover panel. There’s stuff in there all right – tubes and little metal machiney-looking doodads. I didn’t see the spark plug (which seems like it should be one word, but is not) and so came in to access the internet once again. I had time to do this because it is East Noble’s Collaboration Wednesday. You can just hear the deadpan disdain with with those four words were enunciated in my mind as I typed, can’t you? Perhaps it was even deadpan total disdain. Right now I am forcing myself to throttle back on this subject; I am going to a happy place. Oh, gee, the happy place turned out to be me in my imagination using a sledge hammer on the school corporation windows.

OH! I went off to take Summer to school and forgot to push publish so now I have to decide if I want to add part two of the morning in this post or not. I’ll think I’ll tell you the rest in a new one.

Okay, I went over to Hayden Honda and Ralph, who is a very, very nice man, told me that it could very well be the air filter; when I changed it, which he showed me how to do, a lot of liquid did indeed drain on the ground. However, the battery was very low and so I went  back and got a charger for a motor scooter- sized battery. It finally charged . . .  but it still won’t start. I think the spark plug is fouled and I have watched a YouTube video on changing the plug on a Metropolitan. The narrator says, though, “It’s kind of tricky” at one point and I am at the big sigh stage.

I know there are probably a number of people within two football field lengths of me who could whip a new one in but my psychic vibes are not reaching them.

Ah, yes, someone who shall not be named admitted she got “cocky” and tried to get up speed for a fast run downhill. Well, it was downhill, all right – the sliding crash of throttle doom; it was uphill pushing it home. I know; I pushed it. At the last intersection, a pickup was turning and he motioned for me to go ahead, but I was enjoying the little rest and indicated he should go ahead and turn. So, he did and as he was passing, I accidentally leaned against the handlebars and hit the horn. So, there I stand, balancing a scooter on my hip and waving my hands that I didn’t mean it – that it was an accidental blow. Fortunately he grinned.

Well, that is all we are going to say about this.

Today I think I am going to go through the house and clean and toss out trash. Gee, it is hard to say no more about the above.

Real hard.

Roosevelt announced on a radio broadcast that the bombers had taken off from Shangri-La; actually they had come from an aircraft carrier. They were young men then. This week four of them sat in front of their pictures from those days and signed autographs.

Doolittle Raiders from left, Lt. Col. Richard E. Cole, Lt. Col. Robert L. Hite, Maj. Thomas C. Griffin and MSgt. David L. Thatcher

Signing autographs.

They walk with canes now.

All pictures: Staff photo by Jim Noelker of the Dayton Daily News.

That would be two in the morning. Why? Angst? No, I am having a little problem with sinus stuff draining backward when I lie down, and it makes my eye hurt. It awoke me earlier and I tried a position which caused it to drain and the pain to go away, but my neck started to hurt. I fell back asleep but woke again and got up and took some aspirin and now I am sitting here waiting for snot to relocate. I could have put that better, but I went with the mainstream expression. Actually, I am not of the mainstream in this – I was just trying to fit in. My parents didn’t use words like “snot” and my father certainly did not encourage me to do so. Usually, I say mucus but people who don’t know me sometimes look at me as if I am “too good” for “snot”. Well, that’s not true. I just don’t see the point of saying it when mucus will do. I am certainly not above mucus jokes when the situation truly fits it. For instance, Mother used to buy “goof” expensive paint from Varns and Hoover in Middlebury for pennies on the dollar. Once she brought down a gallon of a sage-like shade that when wet looked like a used kleenex right after a big blow. I did not say anything to her, but when Quentin and I were standing side by side painting the shed, I mentioned what I believe we were both thinking: If we had to sneeze and didn’t have a handkerchief, we should run out and aim at the shed. No one would know.

I am getting my mind off my headache, you see; am I giving you one? Sorry, it was unintentional.

We rode the scooter at the fairgrounds yesterday afternoon, first around the circuit in the trees and then on the flat, more expansive surface by the entrance, merchants’ building and grandstand. Cameron took a header on a tight corner, but was all right. I didn’t see it; I just thought he was taking a long time getting back. Then when we practiced maneuvering a little on the flatter area, Sydney decided he was going to follow us and we were afraid of wearing him out, so we headed home. Oh, by the way, Spikey was tucked in my windbreaker with her little face showing below my neck. I forgot about her, but I do remember thinking the few people I saw had perplexed expressions on their faces. Perhaps they could hear her ultrasonic screaming. “Not the tree!!! Not the tree!!!!”

It did occur to me that perhaps C’s accident was a bit of karma related to the decision not to go see the B-25’s and pay respect to the four of the eight Doolittle Raiders who were well enough to go to Wright-Patt and sign autographs for the – uh- snots who were born about 5o years  after those thirty seconds over Tokyo. Did I mention that I stood in the kitchen and loudly announced to anyone within earshot that one of the men had spent 40 months is a Japanese POW camp?

Well, my headache has abated, but I believe my blood pressure is going up so I will try lying down again.