Museum Days

museum days

The three-day home town festival has come and gone. I ate breakfast at the Methodist Church on Saturday morning (the new hall lets them serve more people). I had my elephant ear (a large but thin deep-fried crepe smeared with butter, sugar and cinnamon). I did two three-hour stints at the checkout desk during the Friends of the Library Book Sale (we did pretty well this year). I bobbed and weaved through the heavy traffic that my home town does not experience during the rest of the year.

voyage to arcturnaba

My sister the editor has driven off to obtain possession of her new Escanaba home. She has stuffed, in the most haphazard fashion, the back of her car with a lot of junk.

Since the new house is said to have furniture, it is unlikely that my sister will have much more to move to Escanaba — just her papers and media, and her two cats. That leaves the furniture that she no longer wants, not to mention the old house itself. It is termite-infested. The furnace is shot; she has several oil radiators in the living room to compensate. The foundation is collapsing; indeed, it was the Amish she had hired to shore it up who discovered the termites. It is like that my sister will sell the place only to someone either willing to fix up the building (and deal with the wood-munchers) or planning to tear down the house for the land.