Big day today.

It's garbage day!   Whoohoo!

*snort*

And,  yard waste,  and recycling,  and well,  it's enough to get motivate me to get dressed this morning.

And,  and.

Well,  that's really the extent of it.

T.C. is making masks for members of the family.  I think she's up to around 25 or 30 by now,  most of which have been delivered.   She did get a request for masks from one of our nieces and her gang,  with the query as to "how much?"   But,  T.C. isn't doing this to make any money,  she's just making masks.  She has all kinds of material,  although we're waiting (and waiting) for more elastic to come from God knows where.  Had we known it was on a slow boat from China,  I suspect we might have tried to source some elsewhere. 

She can manage in the meanwhile.

I swear I see more delivery vehicles roaming around the neighbourhood than....anything.
And that's OK,  as I certainly don't miss all the Moms racing around the corner to get their kids to school on time.   I swear we could just take down the stop sign at the corner and nothing would change.

Of course there are the folks out walking their kids to try and either keep them occupied or at least burn off a little energy.   I'm sure many,  many folks with school aged kids have a new appreciation for the teachers in their kids lives.  Just a thought.


Of course,  there's the odd "Covidiot"  out and about. 

Now,  how do I know?   Well for example,  if the neighbour's "kid"  (he's probably in his twenties by now)  is heading out somewhere with his dirtbike on the back of his pick-up truck?   What kind of "essential service"  would he be performing?

Entertaining the medical staff in the parking lot of the local hospital? 

Right.

This was on the front of the local rag that arrived on our driveway yesterday.   And no,  this isn't the "propaganda" one.  Just the local offering that used to have way more flyers,  and now has been reduced to not much of anything.  The big change came after the shut down.

I actually liked the flyers.   But,  now all the stores have that sort of thing "on line". 
 

I didn't have to read the article to totally get the gist.  Of course we want to shop locally.  We (this household,  and the kids)  have been doing that for years.  Trouble is,  not everyone either can or is willing to go to the extra effort. 

And they say that the Farmer's Market might not reopen for quite some time.  Yikes.   That will suck.

I'd be willing to drive around the countryside seeking out all the farms that would have come to the market,  and doing some sort of "end of driveway"  thing.   I mean,  fuel costs wouldn't be a big deal. 

Anyhoo,  I'm still farting around with the table that I'm stripping.   Just not looking forward to sanding the bendy bits.

Had to take it apart to make it a bit easier to work on.

I do some as I feel like it.  It's not like the little project I had last year when I was "on the clock".   This is for my nephew and his wife.   He's the kind of fellow whom you can call for help,  and he'll be there.  Being as he's a fireman,  he was the guy to call to help with putting stain on the front of the house last summer,  way up there at the peak,  where Muggins here has very little desire to be.

Not only am I not crazy about heights,   but being that far up not just a scaffold,  but a step ladder ON TOP of the scaffold to boot. 

No sir.


Meanwhile,   T.C. tried her hand at making some treats for us. 

Because we're wasting away to nothing. 


Hope you are all well.

Thanks for stopping by.

And all the rest.

We don't have a bird cage.

There was a budgie here in the house when we moved here,  but it took no time to get rid of him.   He was "relocated".   And no,  that's not the same as,  "he went to the farm".  But,  whatever.
His owners came and took him away.

So no need to line the bird cage with newspaper.   We do however,  have a wood burning fireplace,  so I always make sure that I set aside a certain amount of newsprint that comes to the door for just that reason.  I've heard it said that, "print media is dead",  and if that's not quite the case,  then I suspect that it's been on life support for some time.  Just the same,  there is enough newsprint floating around that I can start a fire whenever my little heart desires.

And where the heck am I going with this?

Well,  a few days ago I guess it was,  there was a tiny segment on the Toronto news about folks being upset about getting this one particular publication in their mailboxes.   "It's Propaganda!"  was the mantra.

Of course somebody,  the News People maybe?  contacted the Post Office to enquire about just why this was being circulated,  to which the Post Office more or less said,  "Um, because they're paying us."

Which,  in consideration of the somewhat poor financial situation of our Canadian Postal Service,  is probably a good thing.

Well yes,  it is in fact,  "Propaganda",  but if you think in general terms about just what propaganda really is,  then most anything that you read that might have a particular slant could be considered propaganda. 

Oh and,  interesting little side snippet,  the German translation for "word of mouth" is "Mund Propaganda".  Literally,  "mouth propaganda". 

So,  here's the publication,  or at least part of the front page:

I had a couple thoughts when I noticed it in our mailbox: 
First of all,  "oooh...we got mail".  (Because we don't seem to get mail every day these days)  and then, "Oh look,  they're delivering this crap all the way out here.  Huh."

I'm pretty sure my next thought was, "Welp,  now I have enough newspaper to have a fire tonight if I want."   And that was about it.

No calls to the media,  or Canada Post.

Oh and,  they're trying to say that the Coronavirus was a huge Chinese plot of some sort.  Really,  I didn't read it,  so I have no clue.  And hey,  maybe it was?  We'll never really know.  Nor will these folks who pretend to know enough to put it in a "newspaper".

Now,  I will say this.   What ever numbers are coming out of places like China or Saudi Arabia in terms of the stats on the Virus?   Not credible.   And really,  until every single citizen in any country you can name has been tested,  none of the numbers are really believable. 
Having said that,  even if the numbers are off by a couple percentage points,  there's a helluva difference between having more dead than the Vietnam War and say,  3800 plus deaths in a country like for example,  Canada.

Meanwhile,  this past weekend,  Daughter Number One had a birthday. And I realise that, at a certain point in time in ones life, birthdays are maybe not the huge deal as when one was say,  a teenager?   Speaking for myself,  I'd just as soon let birthdays slip on by with very,  very little fanfare.

I'm sure however that there would have been at least some cake involved and a song if it weren't for the Pandemic.

Instead,  there was a stream of visitors at the front of their house,  with some presents to unwrap.   No singing though.

T.C. made her a "clutch purse":

Now,  I'll say this about that.

Prior to the whole Pandemic thing,  any time that a present was being prepared here at The Ponderosa,  there was always the concern that it would be discovered at some point during the process.  You know,  folks come over for dinner,  there might be some reason to go to the sewing room,  or out to the garage.  Like that.
 
At one point maybe a month ago,  T.C. caught herself about to say,  "Oh,  I'd better put that stuff away."  and then realised that,  nobody's coming into the house.  And nobody will be for quite some time.

We were having a little discussion about just how cautious is TOO cautious.   Um,  I'm kind of on the side of,  there is no such thing as too cautious? 

Even though I might have the right of way on a rural road where the vehicles coming up on my side have a stop sign,  do I just keep barrelling on through,  hoping that that transport truck is going to stop?  Or maybe I just might slow down a bit and keep an eye on him.   What if he doesn't see the stop sign?  By the way, I'm thinking of this particular example.

Anyhoo,  that's all of my ramblings for today,  and maybe for a few days.

Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice.  And wash your hands.

Well, that was twice.

And by that I mean,  "first and last time". 

I mentioned on Sunday that there was this "pick-up order" that had been ordered at one of the local grocery stores.   And originally,  the delivery date was two weeks off,  and as a result,  this order had been started some two weeks ago.  And that's kind of OK,  as you can add to it right up until the day before the scheduled delivery.   Oh and,  these folks had been doing this long before the pandemic,  by the way.

T.C.  wanted to do this,  as Daughter Number One had put in an order that she picked up a week ago,  and her Mom had added things to that order.

So like I said,  it was our turn.

Eventually,  late in the afternoon,  T.C. got a note,  and I got the "OK,  we have to go pick up our order!"  command from T.C., so off we went. 

The deal is,  when you arrive at the store,  you call them,  tell them in which parking spot you are located (they have a designated area) and they bring your order out and place it in your trunk.
As I was sitting there,  I kind of wondered,  "what the heck do you do if you don't have a phone?"  but I guess everyone and their dog has a mobile phone so,  dumb question.

Naturally it was raining.   And,  thinking that someone would be out somewhat expeditiously,  I naively popped the trunk. 
And waited.
Of course,  a gust of wind came up and opened the trunk all the way up and,  thankfully we don't keep much at all in the trunk,  because whatever was in there was getting wet. 


Now,  first of all,  let me tell you a little story.   See,  when I was all of 16,  I worked in a Lumber Yard.  It was OK in the summertime,  but I also chose to work Saturdays throughout the winter.
Man on man,  you don't know cold until you've had to pry a few snow covered two by fours out of the pile on a cold winters day.   But my point is,  in no time at all,  not only did I know all the different products,  but was operating the towmotor,  cutting bridging on the bandsaw (it was huge!)  and doing deliveries.   And not just the "trim truck",  for some reason that to this day remains a mystery,  I was also sent out with the big truck to deliver framing.
 
Oh and,  this was all "pre-gps"!  There were some cryptic instructions,  let me tell ya! And,  once you were out for delivery,  you were really on your own.  No cell phones either. 

And then,  skip forward to my last year of High School,  when I worked in a small grocery store within walking distance of school.  Within a very short period of time,  I certainly knew all the products.  Now,  maybe because I spend a few early years on a farm,  I have a bit of an advantage when it came to produce?   But I doubt it.



And where the hell am I going with this?


Question: How do you end up getting radishes in your order,  when you wanted beets?    Did someone say,  "just gimme some of dem red things"? 

It's like some sort of "Grocery roulette." 

That situation might have been even somewhat more tolerable if either of us could stomach radishes.  I've tried them.  Don't like 'em.

Now,  the bonus of the "grocery roulette" situation?  Well,  we did get an extra container of bread crumbs,  as well as a third ball of pizza dough.  No extra charge.  So that kind of makes up for the time we had to waste having to go back to the store and wait for some kid to come out with a bunch of beets.

And yes,  they got their radishes back. 

The produce?  Well,  even *I* can pick out better produce.  And I'm always given stern warnings about how to pick out produce.  It would seem you're at the mercy of whatever blind employee is saddled with the task of picking out your cauliflower (with just a few too many brown spots)  along with the sad,  sad looking lettuce.
It's encouraging to know that they're willing to hire the handicapped.  But having the gift of sight is what I would consider a priority when it comes to picking out groceries? 
Just an observation. 
And even that requires sight.


I just said,  "Well,  if it's painfully average produce that you want,  I can get that at the "Food Basics"  down the street."


T.C. muttered something. 

We may just have to live without lettuce.


In other "news",   I did bake another banana bread. 

May as well.   Certainly more satisfying than any kind of shopping. 

And that,  sadly,  is the extent of the excitement in our lame little existence.


Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice,  and wash your hands.