Friday, September 11 2020
Today was the 19th September 11th, and you can feel its significance fading from relevance with each passing year. On the original September 11th and for some years afterwards, the events on that day seemed like something out of fiction. But now that we live in a country whose president is controlled by Vladamir Putin, the happenings of 9Eleven sound like the quaint problems of a simpler time.
Somebody decided to mark the day by shooting at the bus turnaround, so I went down the Gullies Trail and hassled them with a megaphone. Somewhere along the Gullies Trail I encountered and photographed a lethal-looking Amanita mushroom.
Lately I've been installing kickstand doorstops on doors: the front door, the door from the dining room out to the east deck, and the one into the laboratory. This has renewed my sensitivity to other lingering door issues, mostly related to latching strike plates. The one on the door from the laundry room out to the east deck was set too high and now the door refused to latch (it used to work, suggesting the door has sagged in its frame). To fix it, I had to chisel out a lower position for the strike plate. When I announced the fix to Gretchen, she reminded me of a similar problem with the door to the upstairs bedroom, one I'd tried (and failed) to fix at least once since installing that door nearly 18 years ago. Again, the problem was the strike plate was too high. I'm a natural when it comes to absorbing and using handyman knowledge, but I was slow up on the uptake with doors, not fully understanding the importance of keeping door jams perfectly square and perfectly plumb (until installing the french doors to Gretchen's porch).
The Amanita along the Gullies Trail.
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