October 10, 2024

Cold morning. Turned my furnace on. As there was no explosion, I assume it’s independent of the water system.

Errands. Got a prescription filled. The pharmacy guy says they have Internet in Black Mountain and were promised water this afternoon. Made an appointment for routine car service, that I missed twice during the hurricane. 

Drove to the Mill at Riverside. My space smells like an outhouse, but is secure and untouched. High Five, miraculously, stands, though scoured empty by the flood. All the lawn furniture is gone. Smashed sheds. The far side of the river white with what seems to be an infinity of pcp pipes. Workers and owners out on the pavement trying to hose off (with what water?), dry, and clean furniture and equipment. Grace Plaza becomes a staging area for water distribution and the parking of utility trucks. Streets still hazardous with splintered lumber. Linda sent lily and elephant ear bulbs home with me. I got those planted, along with two roses that came from Heirloom and a row of orange iris by the street. All live plants are planted; the bulbs can bide their time a little. Interesting process of getting clean, or cleanish, after a bout of gardening. Fifty thousand years of being mostly dirty becomes quite understandable.

Routine maintenance at Anderson Toyota. Took up time, anyway. Gorgeous autumn day, the trees etched with blue shadow on the nearby mountain. 

Poking through old journals reveals that I began painting in November 1991.