Meanwhile I was exchanging emails with Brenda Farkas, Randy Walsh was also involved etc. now I'm awaiting word from Peter but nothing yet. The beaver culvert caper, as Brenda called it, was still ongoing. The conversations had started the day before, during my bike ride.
It rained. No, it poured. Thunder boomed. The phone amber alert type signal went off. The phone rang too - emergency alert tornado warning. We're still here. Cassie huddled in the bedroom.
In between the drops we went to the covid testing center that has now reopened. No queue but a steady business. Our pcr test should come through in a couple of days. No appointment necessary.
Then, late in the day, another email from Brenda. Bob had passed away. Nicely recovering from his stroke, determined to be independent, he had fallen, banged his head I guess and died of a brain bleed. Now I'm in a funk.
I let Pat, Mike and Randy know. They'll get the word out. We are very fragile. Hard to Believe.
Earlier in the day I fussed with the new bike and rationalized some of the boxes of spares, throwing some stuff out. The bike now has a headlight and taillight. I intend to do a 200k on Saturday.
That's it. That's enough.
From my iwdt
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