We took the dog in for a check-up on Saturday morning; it had kept getting put off. He is officially superannuated: of the two charts posted on the walls at the clinic, he's a centenarian in human terms on one, and off the bottom on the other. He resolutely refused to pee, so I am once more to take in a sample once their weekend is over.
Blossom season has started: clouds of white blossoms have appeared, and the trees with tiny pink flowers are coming into flower. I noticed Santa Clara has removed the tall brightly painted planters that were placed at kerbside for the Super Bowl (they were starting to get broken, but I miss them) and replaced all the hanging baskets on the new old-style lampposts with fake flower ones. A large sprig of fake red bougainvillea and baby's breath was lying on the sidewalk, blown down by the wind.
High wind and then also rain, one night. I'm told the store had a power failure that lasted half an hour, but that there were no customers at the time. I remember one night shift, having to go from booth to booth with a flashlight evicting them.
At the moderately hideous monster house that replaced the sad little house that once had a jungle for a front yard, someone had planted pink geranium cuttings in the two rectangles of bare soil between the sidewalk and the kerb. They were hanging on in the rain, looking bedraggled. I see the two patches of earth have now been paved over.
I noticed the full moon low over the western end of El Camino as I left the store after work. We went to the supermarket and my yoghurts kept escaping as I was loading my bags at the checkout. When I was putting them into the fridge, I realized the bottom of that bag was biodegrading. One yoghurt was missing. So I borrowed the car key and went looking for it. I examined under the car and next to it, popped the trunk and looked in there - nothing. I decided it must have fallen out of the cart in the supermarket parking lot. But when I returned to the house, I saw it sitting right in the middle of the porch.
Today the clock, internal/external temperature, humidity, moon phase, etc. thing in the kitchen gradually got paler until by evening there was only the black outline of the moon. The housemate flipped in new batteries one at a time, but it lay inert, showing 12:00 and bare lines for all the other readings. So she clambered onto the kitchen stepladder outside in the light rain and unwound the external terminal from the nail under the rafters that it was tied onto with twine, and we laid the two plus the other terminal from my room side by side on the kitchen table. The external temperature reading on the kitchen one remained blank, while the one on mine started ticking upwards. After an hour or so, the two were showing the same number of minutes on the time reading. I checked them again half an hour ago and the kitchen one again has a graph of pressure readings, and the symbol for broadcast reception from the outside station has reappeared. Maybe the time will sync and the outside temp reading reappear tonight; then the outside thing can go back on the nail. Otherwise we have to hunt for and interpret the instructions.
We went to the library; parking was relatively easy this time, unlike last time, and we managed to raid the joint within half an hour (2 quarters), but the place was full of signs and handouts about crisis counseling and suicide prevention services.
The drought is officially over—thanks to the Mountain View Voice for finally giving me the data I'd been searching for about how much rainfall we've actually had. Now of course we have Bad Air Days because people are trying to keep warm. I was able to mow most of the grass in the backyard this afternoon; one corner was in shadow and still too wet.