Jeremy is still in a bike conundrum. REI refused to fix his bike (in a very nice way) because about two years ago, Jeremy left his carbon fiber bike leaning against a pole and a gust of wind blew it over and it fell on something that caused a tiny, superficial-ish nick in the frame. If one decided to call the manufacturer (and one did decide as soon as it happened) and ask if the bike was rideable, the manufacturer would tell you to 1) immediately stop riding the bike because the frame could catastrophically fail mid-ride and 2) they could send you a replacement frame for $1200. So Jeremy made an engineering cost/benefit/bike implosion probability calculation (gut feel) and taped over the nick and continued to ride the bike for literally 10,000 miles. So Jeremy ran into some bike issue recently that he needed a bike shop to fix and headed over to REI, casually mentioning the nick (which had been taped over and no one noticed). Then the bike tech (who I started calling Jeremy’s good bike friend (GBF)) contacted, themselves, the bike manufacturer who told GBF that the bike is completely unrideable, REI then said they (sadly) could not repair it because they have to certify that all bikes they repair are safe and completely rideable. Though GBF and the other bike techs spent a long time discussing the nick and all of them agreed that they would all totally keep riding the superficially nicked carbon fiber bike. So Jeremy and GBF broke up. Congrats for reaching the end of this bike story. This has been my marriage for the past 2.5 weeks. Oh there is more! Jeremy took the bike home and started ordering bike repair tools to fix it himself (which can be infuriating to him because all bike things (like fire pits, outdoor deck heaters, eight pound dumbbells and apparently pumpkin puree) are out of stock and price gouged). But he managed to order all his tools including this lovely metal dildo which he calls a “press fit bottom bracket bearing tool”.
Jeremy is happy doing bike stuff. I’m happy if he is happy doing bike stuff. He tells me there are memes or jokes about husbands loving their bikes more than their wives. The first question is- is your bike in your bedroom? And for Jeremy, the answer is YES.
I have retrenched my feeling about my n95 mask. I was frustrated that it seemed like I was the only one wearing it last week and I wanted to quit wearing mine, but this week, I took a look around and I decided that it was an even split among the staff. And I also discovered that our unit (COVID free) has boxes and boxes of my sized n95 masks in stock in a locked cabinet near the med room (I just have to ask the charge nurse). I’ve literally been wearing my 6 or so n95 masks since April (with carefully written dates on the front for use) and hadn’t seen any in stock for months. But I got three new ones yesterday. And my patients seem to be wearing masks more in their rooms. Family members too. I need to retrench for the winter. It’s going to be a long, hard winter. Our house is not going to be as bubbled as before – we are onboarding a new caregiver next week who has other families she’s working with and our caregiver now is headed back to her school, but will still be helping us out in the evenings.
The house is getting lighter all the time, we are fixing, throwing things away and rearranging. It’s incredible how just the three of us can use the entire enormous house. Every single room is used, every single bit of closet space is used. You know how usually there is a formal dining room or formal living room that is never used or a guest room you never go into? Not in this house. I’m working on replacing the upholstery on these chairs. These chairs were purchased during that fleeting moment where both of us had professional jobs, but no kids. The year or two that we floated out of IKEA furniture and wandered into a real furniture store of furniture made from real wood.
These are chairs that are constantly exposed to spaghetti sauce. I hope this pattern will hide it well. I need to buy a staple gun. Jeremy is trying to talk me into a pneumatic staple gun, but I think I’m going to go with electric. We have a manual one, but it doesn’t sink the staples in deep enough.
Vince seems OK. He seems good. He has not a single friend on campus which makes me sad, but I’m trying to not be too sad about it, because literally, what can you do about it? Nothing. Classes are good, California is good. He’s socializing with his friends from home.
Edda is doing OK. This one morning, she seemed particularly thrilled to be in school.