9 - 18/9 - 09

Goldie died somewhere between 2 am and 7:30 am this morning.  We were astonished.  She had seemed so perky, always turning her head back and forth whenever we approached to gaze at her.

The water looked a bit cloudy--even though Robert had just changed it-- and there seemed to be some extremely tiny organisms pedalling through the water, which we had never seen before.  What could have happened to her? 

Now we are down to one fish, Blackie.  We cleaned his tank again today and moved him into a shadier spot.  Robert fed him some mashed cantaloupe.

On the plus side, I have my new compost bin set up.  We also painted the shed a taupe-brown and put up a wicker screen that looks great with my boxes of succulents.  Robert pick-axed the soil under the grapefruit tree, and I stacked flagstones around the base.

Yesterday Vernon McQueen came to spray the tree for aphids.  He's getting on in years and brought along his back-up guy, Stephen Williams. I was wondering what to do when Vernon retires.  I worry about people who have specialties that are kind of dying out--like my curmudgeonly shoemaker up the street.  Each time I venture in his shop, I know he's going to berate me about the chintzy shoes I bring to him.  He sneers at shoes not made of leather, and I have to allow him to vent his thoughts before I can timidly ask for an extra hole in the strap or to glue down some flap.  He charges me a dollar or so and sends me on my way, grumbling under his breath.  I always wonder how he stays in business.

Who will take up these niche trades like repairing shoes in this day and age?