Bear by Herself

 I changed this book title from Him- to Herself yesterday: it's me!

Thanks, Michael, for telling me wi-fi hot-spots DO work.
I further read that using your phone to make a hot spot instead of paying for an IP is a great money-saving idea for people who don't use the Internet heavily.

Not fast enough for bingeing Netflix?
Good!
bink gave me an old laptop that plays DVDs. I happily watch movies that way, just takes a little [gasp] planning. I can do that.

I feel like one of those little rolled-up ball of tea leaves that gradually unfurls like a flower when you put it in water. I was so confined in my old place, with HM monopolizing all the main spaces--emotionally as much as physically.
After four nights in my new apartment--even counting the dreadful sleep I got from exploding firecrackers last night (another reason to hate the Fourth)--I am relaxing open...

This morning, I got out my drawing pencils and sitting on the stoop with my coffee, I sketched Pixie, the neighbor's Russian Blue cat.
"She's a stray from northern Minnesota," the neighbor said, "so she likes to be outside a lot."

Pixie is belled, but I imagine she catches lots of birds and mice anyway... She looks plenty well fed.

That reminds me that I googled the Russian birch canister, and it's from Siberia! (Sort of similar ecosystem to northern MN.)
Birch is supposed to have healthful properties--and is antimicrobial, I guess. At any rate, you can safely use these canisters to store food--that's what they're for. 
The lid seals too, so I filled mine with rolled oats.

The birch is beautiful and the canister feels good to handle.
I want everything in my place to be along those lines. No plastic junk. No things covered in icky sticky memories.

My parents did, but Auntie Vi never kept much old stuff. I used to think she was wrong, somehow, not to save every old things. But the longer I live, the more I jettison old things too, the ones that feel like emotional lead, anyway.

I gave a lot of family stuff to my sister, whose house looks more and more Victorian, with marble-topped side tables, framed antique photos, and various gewgaws. I like the look but wouldn't want it myself. 
I've kept a few family treasures--the ebony conducting baton (I first wrote "wand") that my mother's father used, for instance, in its green-velvet–lined case.

Time to bike to work. It is HUMID out. Early this morning you could see the moisture hanging in the air. Good thing I moved last week when it was hot but dry.
I have a little bit farther to bike now--a total of about 4 miles--a good amount for exercise.
Off I go.

Have a good day!