It's First Friday — we're planning to celebrate by having dinner at Ruby Tuesday.
Much to our surprise, it was delicious. We may go back.
When I got up, there was a crust of sea gulls floating over the sand bar. When the Cub was here, we didn't see seagulls at all, and Brent reported that the canopy of his boat lift stayed clean all summer.
I saw a string of coots swimming south, but later on I got out the binoculars and they were geese.
I think maybe the ones I saw before the gulls left really were coots.
I'll have to wash dishes this morning — I want to make corn bread and my big mixing bowl is dirty.
I'm reading the mailing list "Hot Times on the High Iron" while the washing machine works. A retired engineer mentioned his first railroad-approved watch. I vaguely recall the word "railroad" being used in watch advertisements.
In 1987 his Bulova Accutron wore out and he's still using the Seiko that replaced it.
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I was careless about standing still at the lunch yesterday; I even took a turn at washing dishes.
So I didn't even look at the weather before hauling out a rack and sitting down to hang clothes on it. The last time I washed clothes immediately after getting tired at the church led to owning a four-wheel walker.
It's true that I didn't get anywhere near as tired as on that occasion, and this is about half as much wash, but that's an experience I really, REALLY don't want to repeat.
Looks like a good drying day, and it's so warm that I didn't bother to put shoes on before going out to comb my hair, but it's overcast and the wind is a bit stronger than I prefer, so I'm not grieving over missing it.
Two mistakes cancelled: I forgot to get my cornbread biscuits out of the freezer and take them to the lunch, and it turned out that cornbread was wanted for Thursday, not Sunday. (The pastor sent a confusing e-mail.)
The biscuits turned out quite nice, so I wrote up the recipe: http://wlweather.net/PAGEJOY/COOKBOOK/BREAD.HTM .
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I gave up reading my horoscope when I switched to the E-edition of the Times Union because it's an extra click instead of a shift of eye, but for some reason, today I clicked. It says "A change of scenery will do you good." I found that amusing, because I've accepted an invitation to go to Upland with Martha and Steve next Sunday.
But the rest of the paragraph is way off.
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Scored eight at Hexavirus just before going to bed.
This morning I washed the cookie sheets I baked the biscuits on. The oil had started to oxidize, and for a while there I thought I was going to use up my whole box of baking soda. But I put detergent in the second two, and left them under a faucet that was trickling to keep the water hot, and by the time I got the first one scoured they had loosened a bit. When I finished a little before ten, I thought I'd done a days work!
It's lucky that I woke up half an hour early — I had a sudden change of outfit when I was half dressed.
I'd laid out four layers of clothes yesterday evening, because today was predicted to be cold. We woke up to a ten-mile-an-hour wind, and I flinched a bit when I saw how things were whipping around, but reflected that I'd already laid out wind pants and there's a windbreaker hanging on a hook over the bike.
Then, while I was putting on my shoes, it set in to snow.
I wish I'd left the inmost layer of tights on when I changed into jeans.
Changing from cycling clothes to driving clothes takes a bit more time than one would think, because my jersey has a big pocket to keep my wallet in, and my jeans have lots of little pockets to put stuff from the wallet in. Not to mention the stuff that was already packed on the bike. I left the book to return to the library and the magazine to drop off at the emergency room because I didn't feel like any side trips. I did stop at Owen's East on the way home.
I wish I'd bought the clearance bag of tomatoes. I rejected it because I didn't feel like making hamburger soup tonight — but we have a package of duck bacon!
It was a piled-up clearance rack today; I did get a bag of apples. There was also a bag of limes and one lemon that would have made lovely marmalade if weren't booked up for the rest of the week.
By the way, I got a flu shot, a blood draw, and a clean bill of health.
Assuming that I pass all the blood tests — she took four vials.
Good or excellent on all tests.
I looked out the window and thought "that's not much of a snow" immediately followed by "awk scrickle it's a *first* snow!"
Our previous snow was quite dry and blew off the road as fast as it fell. so it didn't refurbish any snow-driving skills.
Witness: two slide offs were reported while I was putting on my first pair of socks. Only two pairs, since I'm going to be in a building or car most of the time, but I'm going to put newspaper sleeves held on with an old pair of knee hose over them before I walk to church, and stash them in my coat pocket for future reference when I get there.
If I stop fooling around with the computer and comb my hair, I'll get off in time to stop at the teller machine.
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Left twenty minutes before the party started and just barely made it. I walk very carefully in snow. Dave gave me some of his pocket money, and I just now gave it back.
The car pool chickened out. Listening to the scanner all afternoon, I thought that we were very, very smart to do so.
Since the sidewalks were intermittent, I walked down the middle of Park Avenue after coming down Twelfth Street, and all the traffic I saw was one mail truck. I stepped over the curb into the park, and he got entirely into the other lane.
Lovely party, with lots of excellent food, credit mostly to Cindy Coppes. Denise was there and introduced me to . . . I think it was Ellen. I should have pulled out my little notebook; I never remember anything I haven't written down. I was surprised, later in the morning, when Ellen said that she didn't speak french. I wonder what her accent is?
I have discovered, during the day, that the spot where I bumped my arm against the iron yesterday is a spot that invariably gets bumped against everything.
The outer edges of the burn have turned a dramatic red-brown. I think it will start peeling in a day or two. I'm keeping it coated with A&D ointment.
And every time I reach into my word-chest for "A&D" I get "WD-40". Haven't done it the other way around, but I hardly ever have reason to mention "WD-40".
I've decided to stay off the bike until the days start getting longer. Probably through New Year's Day, since the week after the solstice is pretty busy. Today, I walked to the bank and back to make up the exercise, and stopped at the church to wipe the gaskets and change the ice trays, but forgot to climb stairs. After leaving the church, I went to the teller machine and topped off my pocket money. I went down Ninth Street — in the street.
I had meant to take Sunday Lane all the way to the bank, but after losing count of the number of times my cane saved me from falling on the ice, I cut over to Chestnut Street at the Byer Building. I'd meant to leave the walkway at The Doric, but I was watching my footing so carefully that I missed the turn.
I'm on ten-day prednisone for my rotator cuff. I think I should drive now and again to remind the cuff what's expected of it. (I drove yesterday to pick up the medication.) I'm trying to think of something we need at Tractor Supply, because I have to use a bit of US 30 to get there, and have already demonstrated that I'm not on 30 long enough to hurt my arm.
Just waved my arms around, and they hurt equally. And it's only the second day of medication.
I find that leading with my elbow when I wave my arms around makes the rotator cuff notice.
I'm planning a four-shop car tour tomorrow: Warsaw Health Foods for dried fruit, Owen's for my omeprazole (it was the day before they were allowed to give it to me when I picked up the rest of my medications), Aldi for a whole list of things, and Big R for litter and dry cat food.
Conceivably, Pizza Hut for lunch.
I made progress on my sewing today.
Dave fixed supper tonight: he ordered Pappa John's pizza on the net. At least he tried to; the Web site is out of order, so after several laps around the circle, he telephoned. The girl said it would take half an hour, but it was an hour — and I think the extra time was all spent in the delivery car, but we warmed it in the microwave.
We had baked breaded tenderloin yesterday. I found two very thick pork cube steaks for four dollars when I went to Owen's for my pills on Monday. I rolled them in Fryin' Magic, dipped them into egg beaten up with milk, dredged them in flour, oiled them a bit, and baked at 375 for thirty-five minutes, turning them over at fifteen. Baked vegetables on the side. We split one, and it was very good. I think I'll split the other one horizontally, warm it in a skillet, and serve it on buns tomorrow.
Which I did, and it was good, but not as good as the first round.
For lunch, I had a candy bar I'd brought along, and nearly half of a package of jerky sticks I bought at Aldi. I baked and ate three stuffed jalapeños when I got home at two or three. I'd envisioned a whole pepper with cheese stuck in where the seeds used to be, but it was a piece of pepper with a jalapeño-shaped pile of stuffing on it inside the breading.
All errands accomplished successfully, and I think my rotator cuff feels better than it did yesterday. This was the fourth day of ten days of Prednisone. Tomorrow I start six days of one pill, followed by six days of half a pill.
While filling my pill boxes this morning, I absent-mindely scratched my burn. Yeeouch! I don't think it has taken any harm.
I used a bit of 30 getting from Aldi to Big R. I looked over the socks on my way to the litter, but didn't see any wool socks thin enough to fit inside my boots. But I've found a hand-knitted pair in my repair basket that work with the boots nicely, and only want a small darn on one heel.
Just waved my arms around, and lifting straight up from the side with the elbow bent is all that touches off the rotator cuff now.
One week and a few hours since I burnt my arm. On Saturday, I was amazed at how much it had healed overnight; today I'm grumping that it's still sore. But the swelling has gone down. And I think it's less sore.
I spent yesterday evening cut off from everything but the Web. I realized that it had been a long time since I had defragmented JOY98, and set it to do that while I took my afternoon nap. But it had been so long that I'd forgotten that one has to put it into "safe mode" first — otherwise some other program will change a bit when the defragger is about halfway through, which forces it to start over at the beginning.
Then it took a while to figure out what was going on, and then it took hours to defrag — and then it took a while to realize that the reason all my connection attempts failed was that we had unplugged from the net.
Weather Underground says that it's going to be above freezing until Tuesday night, and continue warm in the daytime through Friday. We may be able to dump the rain barrel!
The quality of the comments on Breaking Cat News is deteriorating. They have noticed that they have something good, and are trying to "protect" it.
While waiting for the wash, I've come pretty close to sorting out the icons that got scrambled when I put JOY98 into safe mode. The new arrangement is more logical, and I deleted at least two. I also archived the notes for my check-up, and repurposed the icon for next year.
I was about halfway through changing the sheets and pillowcases when Al curled up on the bed and got comfortable. He's going to get rousted before nap time!
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He didn't wait for me to start flapping blankets on the bed; when I bent over to pick up the wad, he knew what was up before I started to untangle it.
Dave has gone to pick up the Versa! I didn't ask how they got the parts three months early.
When cleaning out the Sentra, we didn't bother with the leaves — they'll have to vacuum the car anyway.
The wash is all on racks and hangers, except Dave's socks, which I dried in the drier and plan to fold before I lie down. The sheet is draped over two card tables, which has revealed a flaw in the goods. I'm going to have to move hunting for sheeting a bit higher on my list of things to do. All the linen I've seen lately is high in price and low in quality.
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Gaaah! I had to turn a light on to find my keyboard and it wasn't even five o'clock!
I made chili (which I call "hamburger soup"; long story) Saturday, and served it again on Sunday, I thought it a bit much to serve it three times in a row, so I got a shepherd's pie out of the freezer to bake for supper tonight.
On reading the description: I could have put some of the hamburger soup into a casserole and spread instant mashed potatoes on top. But the Bremer version will have a different suite of spices.
When I finished the soup Saturday, I felt that I'd left something out. Eventually, I realized that I'd put in too much grated carrot, and the sugar in the carrot neutralized the other flavors.
So I eat mine with a little pickle brine, and Dave puts Frank sauce in his.
How often do I cook? I opened the recipe drawer and Mother's brown-paper cookbook was on top, open to the recipe I use for Christmas cakes.
I've copied it to the on-line cookbook: http://wlweather.net/PAGEJOY/COOKBOOK/COOKBOOK.TXT. Search for "spice".
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Every year I notice that the first stage of making Mrs. Stanley's Spice Cupcakes would make a really, really good sauce. I must add that to my fantasy about catering a bike race — I'll never have use for a sauce that rich in real life.
Owoo! I had a cramp in the night that left a bruise in my calf, and it isn't working out. Taking the walker for a couple laps didn't make it feel any better, but it was practice at standing straight and walking evenly, and *that* helps
The syrup for apple-pineapple cakes is cooling on the counter. I think the next batch will be cherry-cherry: one cup of dried cherries, one coup of frozen cherries.
I have only enough cloves for one more batch. I should drive to Sprawlmart this afternoon, and come back by Aldi.
I'll probably nap instead.
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There is more ground clove in the bottle than I had thought, and I think that I've already made enough cakes, but I'm planning to go shopping tomorrow morning anyway. I few routine things have accumulated.
After putting the apple-pineapple cakes in the oven, I decided that I could make cherry-cherry (tart and sweet) in the evening, and boiled up more syrup. As a result, I was just putting baking powder and soda into the batter at nine o'clock, when Dave reminded me that Al had a reason for kicking up such a fuss. When I got back to work, I couldn't remember whether I'd stopped to feed Al before or after adding the soda. The white powder on top of the pile of red-wheat flour didn't show the double-yolk effect of putting one teaspoonful on top of another, and I pawed it around and it didn't look like more than one teaspoon, so I put in a teaspoon of soda. The batter, when stirred up, was very light and fluffy, so I fear that what I did was to put in *another* teaspoon of soda.
Well, it comes out of the oven in five or ten minutes, and then we will know whether I've spoiled it — I always make a sample cake.
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It isn't spoiled, but I've made better cake. I think the mistake was combining cherries with cinnamon, cloves, and dark brown sugar. What we have here is plain ol' gingerbread, without ginger.
Now I want to make one more batch with a teaspoon of ginger in it! And no extra fruit: Mrs. Beeson's Spice Loaf Cake.
There I was gimping across K-mart's parking lot regretting having forgotten my cane, and muttering "I should keep one in the car the way Dave . . . DUUUUH!!"
But I didn't use his cane; at Aldi and Owen's I parked quite close to cart corralls, and the one at Owen's had one of those little walker-size carts in it.
The baking aisle at Aldi was jammed with customers; it's lucky that I decided that I don't need cloves, because the seasonal spices were sold out. (I could have got some at Owen's, but details.)
I was much puzzled when Aldi quadrupled the size of the store and halved the number of stalls in the ladies' room, but so far meeting someone coming out as I went in is as close as I've come to sharing. Perhaps the new location attracts a younger clientele that doesn't stay in the store as long.
Now that I'm down to three half tablets, I read the information sheet that came with my prednisone. It says that prednisone may have contributed to the cramp I had the night before last. I've certainly never had one linger this long before.
It's finally starting to feel better, but is still sore to the touch.
I intended to push the walker to church yesterday, but there was too much snow for that to be possible, so with some trepidation I set out with only a cane. I didn't feel the slightest twinge from my bruised calf! I did feel it, very slightly, when I'd almost reached our driveway on the way home. I credit my snow boots, which restrict the range of motion of my ankles, because I felt the bruise while walking around the church after changing shoes.
It probably also helped that I'd put a hot rice bag under my leg for half an hour the previous night. (My rice bags are filled with stale popcorn. I should find a more-generic name for them.)
We missed two Christmas parties today. Yesterday we consulted the weather reports and decided that it was not a good day to drive to Frankfort, so I e-mailed Martha that we'd attend the Beeson gathering.
The weather has been glorious to look at through the window all morning, brilliant sun on drifts of snow, but there is supposed to be blowing snow north of Kokomo in the afternoon, just when we'd have beem coming through there on the way home.
Then this morning I woke up unable to talk and Dave realized that he's coming down with the same thing. I've been waking up with a sore throat for three or four days, and during the singing yesterday, I wished that I'd put a bottle of water in my pocket, so this wasn't really sudden. I've been a bit tired, too.
I've been up and about —and I can talk now— but I thought going into a crowd of people would be very rude.
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After taking care of the weekly wash (two loads), I lay down with a rice bag under my leg and woke up in the same position three hours later. Dave was out mowing the driveway; when he came back in, he said that if we had gone somewhere, we wouldn't have been able to get back in.
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Steve and Martha were able to get in — just as we were finishing supper, they brought us samples of the feast. I won't need to cook for a while.
I'm still coughing, but the floor wasn't littered with paper handkerchiefs when I got up this morning.
More Christmas feast for supper tonight. Not much left now but some chicken, half a serving of mashed potatoes, and some carrots.
We had frozen pizza yesterday. I ate the last bit of that for my bedtime snack.
I've been sewing a little and coughing a lot. We have a generous assortment of cough drops in the freezer.
I must have picked up the handkerchiefs and forgotten about it. I'm starting to marvel that we haven't emptied any handkerchief boxes yet — though the one on the head of the bed has gotten so light that I tend to knock it off the shelf. [So I got up and swapped it with the newly-opened box in the kitchen.]
I think that my virus must have picked up some bacterial back-up.
I attended half the service yesterday. It took longer to get dressed than I expected, but I felt confident when I set off twenty-five minutes before the start of service. Even in snow with boots on, it's only a twenty-minute walk, and I can wipe the gaskets and change the ice trays afterward instead of before.
I didn't take into account that it also takes longer to *un*dress for the weather. Among other things, when I carry shoes, I add my big "dressing comb" to the bag and change my Mama Katzenjammer hairdo into a Gibson in the ladies room.
I was about halfway through when I heard "God is good ALL THE TIME all the time GOD IS GOOD" from upstairs. Being on time was out of the question, so I didn't rush. Then, when I went into the kitchen to dispose of the bag I'd used to carry my big box of paper handkerchiefs, I heard the service being piped in over the loudspeakers, reflected that the less time I spend near people the better, and wiped the gaskets. After scrubbing my hands well, I peeked at the ice and decided not to change the trays. There was enough space to empty them into the bin, but there was also plenty of ice in the bin. Better not to touch it.
Which was a belated consideration; I was probably much more contagious on the previous Sunday, when I didn't yet know that I had contracted "there's a lot of that going around".
And yes, a paper towel in my pocket took care of all the coughs and sneezes. The box of handkerchiefs is a substitute for ringing a bell and saying "unclean"; it saves a lot of explanation. When I went home, I left it in the ladies' room, where I figure it will soon vanish.
It's washday. Only two partial loads; staying at home wearing grubbies saves a lot of laundry.
Whoosh! I just thought of the nineteenth century, when you not only had to wash your handkerchiefs, you had to do it with a tub and a washboard.
I wonder how strong the salt water you were supposed to soak them in was?
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When unloading the black-and-red load, I thought "Hey! Where are all my socks?". When I don't go out, I don't dirty socks.
The bruise in my calf is gone.