Wet out and gloomy in. I got a little sewing done.
Lovely day out. I stayed inside and sewed.
I'm planning to go on a guided hike tomorrow.
Wore myself to a frazzle on the hike. So I rode the "pedal-powered wheelchair" bike to church.
Washed clothes yesterday, and sewed a little in the afternoon. I finished the seams to be done on the White and moved the project to the sewing room, to be finished on the Necchi. The light isn't as good in here as in the bedroom — smaller window. But I did finally realize, a few months ago, that I needed to have the machine at right angles to the window.
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We dashed out to pick up my new spectacles just before noon, and stopped to vote on the way back. Whereupon I discovered that in my haste to dress I'd neglected to transfer my deck of cards from my wallet to my pants, so I walked back to the Senior Center. Not as cold to walk there from home as from the parking lot because I put on my red coat, wrapped my head up well, and wore gloves. But on the way home I frequently walked in odd directions because of gusts of wind — and the peak gust had been hours before.
I didn't think to check the milkweed pods.
We cleaned the freezer this morning. I've been holding off on buying frozen food for weeks, so it wasn't too difficult to keep everything frozen.
I didn't know I had a bag of thick-flake rolled oats.
Surprise! I've got a three-month followup that I'd forgotten about. Weather Underground says that Monday will be a good day for a ride (by November standards) and the appointment is at 9:15. I must think of somewhere to go. I might go to Walmart, if I can think of something that I want there.
I'm not yet accustomed to my new glasses. All considered, now that it's all done, I think that having the cataracts out was a mistake — too much trauma for too little improvement. I should have waited until bad eyes were actually limiting what I could do.
At the moment, I think I'll like my glasses much better after I give them a bath!
It's been a busy week at the church. Wednesday night suppers resumed, and tomorrow there's a pancake breakfast to raise funds for a family who are having a hard time. I'll be lucky to get there in time to help clean up.
There was snow on the leaves and the lawn furniture when I woke up. Probably time to cut immature peppers off the volunteer plant and stash them in the freezer. We won't want to eat them, but I can use them as bouquet garni.
Pity that they are almost certainly not jalapeño. All the jalapeños I've bought have been green, and I scatter a *lot* of mini-sweet seeds on the compost heap.
It's also time I dug the rest of the potatoes.
Maybe I'd better put on some footwear.
I'm packed up to go to Goodwill after my follow-up tomorrow. I've laid out four pairs of pants and four shirts. I must get up by eight, and roll before a quarter of nine. No breakfast, no morning exercises.
Yesterday's pancake breakfast, if I recall the announcement correctly, raised twelve thousand dollars for Dani O'Hara. We fed 460 people even though we'd prepared for only two hundred (or was that two fifty?), and I saw at least two huge unopened boxes of pancake mix in the kitchen. And a basket of syrup tublets. What's the right name of the disposable plastic pots that jam and so forth come in?
Today was the chili cook-off, and Wednesday is supper at the church again. I tipped on out in the middle of the cheesecake auction because it was nap time for old ladies.
The plan was to have lunch at Meijer Plaza after yesterday's followup to my biopsy (looks great, don't come back), but when I'd finished at Goodwill, I didn't feel like turning left across Anchorage and negotiating Meijer's parking lot. I gave brief consideration to eating at Wong's — the food is too heavy, but it was cold enough that left-overs would keep — but I don't enjoy a sit-down-and-wait-to-be-noticed restaurant unless I have a companion. At this point I realized that despite having had a handfull of pills and half a glass of milk for breakfast, followed by a fruit-and-grain bar sometime during the trip, I wasn't actually hungry, so I headed back the way I came.
When I caught glimpses of Detroit from Sunset, I remembered that I'd recently learned that Arthur Street is within walking distance of Chinatown Express. I'd been thinking that come warm weather, I'd pack a hard roll, order vegetable-and-mushroom soup to go, and eat in one of the parks along Pike Lake.
A bowl of hot-and-sour soup would hit the spot, so I turned onto Arthur, dismounted at the intersection with Ellsworth, and started walking.
First place I passed (after the building at the corner) was Pizza Hut. Do they still have the lunch buffet? I went in. Yes, but it didn't strike my fancy, so I came out and went around KFC to Chinatown Express. Much to my surprise, the parking lot was empty and the door was locked. No sign on the door to say what the hours are. I hope she hasn't suddenly retired.
So I went on to Penguin Point. Sign on the window advertised two pieces of chicken (one leg and one thigh) with fries for $3.99. I'm not sure how this differs from the two-piece lunch, with one side (could be fries) and a roll for $5.19. Maybe a roll *is* $1.20.
I couldn't find it on the menu, so I went back out, read the sign again, and asked for a "basket".
"We're out of legs, will two thighs do?" (Would the kitty like some mee-ilk?) I wrapped one up in the basket liner, and Dave had it for supper, together with a few of the sushi rolls I picked up at Owen's and the other half of the pickled egg I put in my chef salad. It had been in the beet juice for quite a while, and was bright red well into the yolk.
Actually, my kitty would *not* like some mee-ilk. Human food is disgusting.
Tonight we had low-carb meatloaf. I did put in a rounded tablespoon of Malt-O-Meal. Rest was chopped celery, grated carrot, two peeled quarters of an apple, two eggs, and three-fourths of a pound of 93% hamburger. And two packets of bouillon powder. Too much, but Dave likes things salty. I steamed the chopped celery in peanut oil, since celery comes out crunchy if not pre-cooked.
I forgot that I'm eating at the church tonight, and was fretting about what to serve for supper. Dave can have corned-beef chili, duck confit, meatloaf, or what he bought and put into the freezer, and he *does* know how to cook.
Washed clothes yesterday. Some are still on the drying rack, and I've got a shirt to iron.
This morning, I finished a repair job that I started yesterday on the frayed hems of a pair of pants, and took off my front brake blocks. The funny noises were due to a bit of metal embedded in the rubber. I think I'll scrub all four blocks and wipe down both rims before I put them back.
I haven't sorted out my winter clothing yet. Last Sunday I wore my long coat to church — and discovered that I can't get at anything in my pockets while wearing it.
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Al went out to the garage with me when I went out to fetch my fizzwater, so I left the door not quite closed. After he pushed it open and came in, he came back to the sewing room and yelled at me to close it and shut off the cold draft.
Weather Underground says that the roads should be clean by Thursday, and that I should grab the next good riding day with both hands. But Thursday is Thanksgiving!
I fiddled around all day today. Didn't even stick a pin into my sewing project. And now the good light is gone; I guess I'll read a few chapters of the fantasy epic on Baen's Bar.
Went shopping this morning; bought milk, four dozen eggs, and some other essentials, and stocked up on frozen meals. I forgot that we are nearly out of fizzwater, and I've been drinking quite a lot because it feels good on my sore throat, particularly when I put in a little of the honey, lemon, and ginger syrup I accidentally made.
I should have picked up some lemons and a piece of ginger, to make some on purpose — with more lemon and less honey.
We liked the stuffed pork chop I baked for supper — a good thing, because there were two in the package.
I've been thinking of all sorts of alarming explanations for the tired and uninterested feeling I've had most of the week. Duh! I've got a sore throat.
Hah! I scored eleven at Hexavirus — a new record, I'm pretty sure.
And yes, I ought not to be playing computer games in the morning.
I'm feeling well enough to go to the Winter Market, and if I still feel good, I'll walk around downtown.
Trip to town went well, but I woke up with a sinus headache this morning. I had a zinc tablet, three sudafed, and half a grapefruit for breakfast, and plan to go back to bed.
I'm skipping church. I shouldn't expose my lungs to cold air, and I shouldn't expose the congregation to me. I don't sneeze very often, but that only makes it more likely that I'll be caught off guard and spray germs around.
There's snow all over this morning. Looks right pretty — from in here.
A day in bed appears to be exactly what I needed. I was rather surprised that I went to bed early and slept all night, after sleeping most of the day. I did find time to stick a few pins into my current sewing, and in the evening I changed the bed. The sheet is on final rinse now, and Weather Underground says that I can hang it on the line.
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All I got done today was two loads of wash. And I accompanied Dave when he went to pick up his pills, and we both got flu shots. I left a basket of sheet and pillowcases in the middle of the kitchen and hastily changed my pants and shirt.
After checking that my deck of cards was in the passport pocket of my jeans.
I didn't wake up bright-eyed and bushy tailed this morning, so I thought loafing around today would help prevent a relapse, so I went back to bed, then had another nap after lunch. In the evening I shortened a pair of Dave's pants a quarter inch, because the hems had started to fray. I should check his closet for pants with hems that are *about* to start to fray — easier to repair at that stage.
I'm still blowing my nose more often than usual, but haven't, knock wood, had to climb up on the step-stool and get down one of the spare boxes of tissues. (I keep rather a lot of paper handkerchiefs on the top shelf of the pantry, to be sure I won't have to run out and buy some when I'm not feeling well.)
We had dinner with Tim and Linda, Joe and Lois, Josh, Ben, and Matthew yesterday.
I'm reading last weekend's Times-Union, which says that a "baby box" is proposed for the fire station on Center Street.
Baby boxes are a good idea — but a better idea would be laws making it safe for an abandoning mother to give her child a provenance. Even if he isn't a kidnap victim, the child is going to spend the rest of his life saying "I have no idea" when his medical history is taken.
We had two dinners today: one at the Clinton House with Alice, and when she got tired, we moved the food to Donny's house. I'd already had enough, but there were a few new dishes. I brought home some pecan bars and nine devilled eggs. I had taken five dozen. Boiled two 18-egg cartons, saved out eight, and had some quality-control eggs.
We left soon after three because we need to get home before dark.
While we were still on 28, Donny called to say that I'd left one of the egg trays in his kitchen. I *know* enough to take empty containers to the car at once!
I didn't know my cell phone had a vibrate mode, my elbow was on my pocket, and I thought the car was doing something very weird. But when it began to ring, I twigged.
Dave said it was a pity I hadn't left an entire container; then we could just give it to Donny and buy a new one.
Passed a billboard advertising the new baby box on our way through Warsaw on the way back. I was under the impression that it had not yet been installed.
There are at least half a dozen yardsticks in the house, but could I find one when I wanted to measure thirty-three inches of cord elastic, could I hah?
Fawchunately</Leghorn>, I always know where my tape measure is. And I put it back after I'd measured the elastic!
All the clothes went into one load this week. I must have missed something.
All this partying is making me fret that I still have Mother's wedding china, lots of cut crystal, and the Blue Denmark dishes I bought for everyday before the quality went down. Then Mother gave me all of her Blue Denmark except the tiny dishes that went with the miniature dining table; that's an even earlier vintage. We eat off paper and (when I fry a steak) dimestore dessert plates, and I'll never throw a dinner party again. Must be somebody in the family who has a stretch dining table and uses it.
Speaking of which, I also have some real-linen tablecloths.
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When Dave came in, he spotted a yardstick over the pantry and one over the door to his room — on the inside, where I didn't look. Later I remembered taking a spare yardstick to the garage and putting it on the row of pegs under the row I keep the garden yardstick on.
That leaves at least three yardsticks to be accounted for. (The garden yardstick doesn't count as one of the half dozen in the house.)
I brought the spare yardstick in, washed it, and replaced the yardstick that is supposed to be in the cutting-mat bag in the laundry room.
As part of making room for the car in the garage, we took the Trek Pure out to the shop and hung it up. With slippery weather setting in, I plan to walk to church. I fretted that if I needed the bike, I might not be capable of taking it down, but Dave said in that case I should order him to go get it. There isn't likely to be a day when the streets are good and my back isn't before we resume keeping the car outside.
Yesterday I saw someone in an orange coat and black snapsack walking across our lawn toward the Wildman's. This morning, I glanced up while typing and saw the same coat and backpack jogging back the other way.
That was nineteen hundred dollars well not spent.
When the doctor said that for nineteen hundred dollars not covered by insurance, he could fix it so I didn't need glasses for distance seeing, I said "We can manage that.", but on further discussion I decided against it.
Today I made black-bean soup for supper. Really good, and I'm going to add the recipe to the Cookbook if I can remember what I did when I get around to it.
To save smoke, I nearly always oil the meat I intend to brown and drop it into a dry skillet or pot. But today I was using peanut oil, so I poured a little into the skillet and then dropped a thawed hamburger patty into the puddle.
The same way that I drop oiled meat into a dry pot. Children, do not try this at home.
I got a burn on my nose, which I promptly splashed cold water on and it didn't develop.
And I had to clean my glasses.
I hit four stores and the library today. Missed my nap, and I'm feeling it.
I stopped at Our Father's House to drop off some cans of sardines that Dave bought by mistake, went to the library to return _Pensic's Mission_ (and checked out three other books), and then drove to the Winter Market. It's a short walk from the library to the park, but it was raining and blowing so hard that I didn't even want to walk to the car.
I bought maple-chevre spread, maple syrup, and half a gallon of frozen cider at the Winter market, then headed down Fort Wayne Street to Martin's and Aldi. Purt'near bought more stuff than would fit into the car, and did buy more than would fit into my bags. I don't think I had all of the canvas bags with me, and I didn't take any plastic bags at all — except the one that I wrapped around my books to keep the rain off.
Usually I'm hard up for a menu, but I had three ideas for tonight's supper. Last night I noted that we had a head of lettuce and four pickled eggs, and thought that I'd serve chef salad tonight. Then at Martin's I bought two crusty rolls and thought that we'd have submarines. But at Aldi I found a refrigerated calzone, and we ate that. If I see it again, I'll buy it again — it was *good*. Real yeast-bread crust, thin and crunchy.
And I can serve submarines or chef salad on Sunday!
Yesterday afternoon, I walked around the "Night Market" craft show in the Heritage Room (Rhodheaver Auditorium).
I'd been looking forward to the church decorating party that took place that evening, but when it was time to start dressing to go out into the dark and cold, I didn't.