11:51 AM 3/3/2023
Some of those raindrops are suspiciously white.
1:26 PM 3/3/2023
Still raining, but not as vigorously. No white drops. Weather Underground says ten inches of snow tonight, National Weather Service two or three. Either way, I don't think I'll need the bike jersey I hastened to mend.
7:58 PM 3/3/2023
There was snow on the ground when I woke up from my nap, and Weather Underground's prediction was down to four inches. Dropped to three later on.
Dave just remarked that the radar says that the snow has almost stopped. Weather Underground's prediction was stop at two in the morning the last time I looked. Still isn't much snow on the ground.
I see a snow plow going by every time I look up. Of course, I look up only when I hear noise and see flashing lights.
Two went by while I was typing that paragraph.
We buried Al this morning. He's been in the freezer all this time, waiting for the ground to thaw, and waiting for an octogenarian to dig a grave little by little.
We found a suitable headstone behind the outdoor fireplace.
He leaves changes behind. Among them, I grew accustomed to looking among his medicines for my 4.0 reading glasses, so when I cleared out the medicines I put the glasses on the window sill instead of putting them back into the arm of the futon.
Last Wednesday, Dave and I both had medical appointments. He got back from his when I was ready to leave for mine — I was leaving early because I wasn't sure I knew where to park my bike.
Mine was a blood draw. When the results came in, I was told to take Tricor off my prescription list and put it on my allergy list. I haven't been to Zale's yet, but I wrote a letter yesterday, and can change the date and print it out when I decide to go. I need a hardcopy because there are a couple of errors in their records, and I'm also allergic to ibuprofen and codeine.
Dave's was a follow-up to his melanoma surgery. He's going to have both radiation and chemo, and was tattooed and fitted with an immobilization device on the spot.
According to the papers he brought home, the immobilization device is a re-usable cast: they fit a bag of beads around him, then suck the air out of the bag to make it hard, and when he's done with it they can open the valve and use it on someone else. We used to have a self-inflating air mattress that worked that way: You squash the air out of the foam, then close the valve and it stays rolled up. I forget whether we gave it away or threw it out.
They will let the surgery heal a while longer before starting radiation, and the chemo follows immediately after the radiation.
On Saturday I rode to a bazaar at the United Methodist church on West Lake Street. All I got out of that was the ride. Most of the exhibits were same-old same-old. I did buy two chocolate chip cookies with pecans to bring home.
I'd planned to eat lunch there, but all the kitchen was selling was drinks, pretzels, and chips. (I ate one of the food bars I carry for just such an emergency.)
One of the booths — which featured two dressing booths — was selling a pull-over sports bra that extended into a girdle. I've been looking for a store-bought bra, but the probability that I'd like wearing a girdle is low enough that I didn't deem it worth removing four shirts to try one on. Particularly since my outer shirt, which I was wearing for the sake of the six pockets, is so worn that getting in and out of it is somewhat fraught.
It's past time for me to decide whether to make my new yellow-linen jersey from pink linen or yellow cotton.
And it's years past time for me to start accosting well-dressed women and saying "who's your dressmaker?"
I got back to Winona in time to dry some dishes after the funeral dinner. One of the workers had never seen me without a skirt.
10:15 PM 3/6/2023
The balloon fiasco has hit the comic strips now. Using a Sidewinder to bring down a balloon that you want to study is as stupid as using an elephant gun to shoot a squirrel for dinner. It was a *balloon*, for pete's sake! A rather moderate bullet hole would have made it descend gently to earth. Don't our fighter planes have machine guns?
On Sunday, I resumed climbing every set of steps in the church after the service. The door to one was blocked with a toy I didn't want to move, so I climbed the matching staircase twice. I learned that thick carpet makes it hard to balance on one foot.
12:29 PM 3/7/2023
Today's chore: shortening the sweat pants that Amazon delivered to Dave yesterday.
I don't have any gray sewing thread, except for a spool of silk. Aside from extravagance (and being so fine that it would take the entire spool to wind a bobbin), silk would not hold up on cotton.
6:51 PM 3/7/2023
Today's Wizard of Id comic strip has a man complaining that he's bored, then yelling "Thank you" to the guard on the tower. One of the comments was "Everybody wants a peace of the inaction."
8:22 AM 3/9/2023
When Dave tried on the sweat pants after the alteration, his right shoe just slipped on without being pushed. The swelling is going down.
I used the thread that the chief clerk at Lowery's matched to my "oakwood" pants (which wore out in nothing flat) many years ago. I buy more spools of it at intervals because that color blends with almost anything; Dave thought I'd found some gray thread.
I dreamed this morning that I was going some place with Dave wearing my brown house pants that have a white X above the knee where I zigzagged a three-cornered tear, and discovered that we were on our way to a fancy restaurant. I don't think I've *ever* left the property wearing house pants, save when they were warm tights and I put my jeans on over them.
Yesterday, I went to Meijer by way of Kroger (dump damaged grocery bags), Zales (tell them I'm off Tricor) and Goodwill. The entire UK is missing from the World Foods aisle, so I wasn't able to buy Hobnobs. I did get some red lentils.
I wasn't tired enough when I got back; I must make my next trip longer. But I got really groggy from missing my nap. Dave thinks I can remove the need for a nap by going to the sleep center, but eighty is the time when people *start* taking naps, not the time when they stop.
8:12 PM 3/9/2023
I learned from the "Remember When" column that SR 15 running along Detroit Street *is* a bypass. It used to run along Buffalo.
But Buffalo ends at the lake, and I'm sure that the lake hasn't moved in the last fifty years. Since everyone knew whether 15 turned right or left to get around Center Lake, that wasn't mentioned in the article.
10:25 PM 3/9/2023
From a comment on Breaking Cat News: "Any woman who has never been called a witch isn't trying hard enough."
8:17 PM 3/12/2023
I didn't notice that the driveway is littered with twigs until this morning, when the snow that had fallen in the night melted everywhere on the driveway, but not on the twigs. My first thought was that strings of snow had fallen from non-existent overhead wires and branches.
Started snowing again about sunset. The snow that had covered the grass in the morning was pretty tattered by then.
Yesterday was a lovely day for a ride. I went first to the gym at Grace College, where a charity sale of children's clothing and toys was taking place. I found a pair of sandals of exactly the style I like (and couldn't find anywhere this sandal-buying season), but it was too large. I was horrified to see that the girls' shoes included a few heels, and exaggerated heels at that.
I went next to the Animal Welfare League, where I dropped off a couple of water dishes we'd overlooked when cleaning out, then to the strip mall Tractor Supply is in.
I went into Furniture Factory Outlet, but didn't see any beds that weren't too high. What's with this fashion of needing a step stool to get into bed? I learned that Furniture Outlet is the easternmost of the stores where a pedestrian can get to 100 S from the back of the parking lot. There is a ditch in the way (I learned from Google Maps) from there to Lake City Honda, which has two direct exits onto 100 S.
Then to Aldi, where I spent over a hundred dollars despite skipping a lot of items that were on my list but would overload my bicycle. I did have to tie the peppers and corn chips to the outside of the panniers.
The Value Bacon slot was empty, so I bought thick-sliced hickory-smoked bacon.
I may bake a can of beans tomorrow.
9:27 AM 3/13/2023
There is hardly any snow out there, but the garden is completely white. I guess I won't plant onions today!
I am doing a load of wash. Hardly enough clothes to cover the bottom of the washer. I used to do as many as three loads on a Monday. Can't be because we split the laundry chores, because Dave also washes quarter loads, and no more often.
9:41 AM 3/14/2023
I don't recall looking out the window yesterday. Did, I'm sure, but I don't remember it. Snow still falling this morning. I was planning on digging my first hill of winter onions today, but I think I'll pass.
I managed to mislay a can of Homestyle Baked Beans yesterday. I'd set it on the counter Sunday night so I'd remember that I wanted to serve baked beans on Monday, but Monday morning it wasn't on the counter or anywhere else. But I also had a can of Country Style Baked beans, and baked it under two and a half slices of thick-cut bacon.
When I find the other can, I think I'll put it into the oven at four instead of four thirty. And the side dish of mixed vegetables needs a full hour.
Life hack: if you don't like your baked veggies brown on the bottom, cover the bottom of the skillet with shredded potatoes.
1:37 PM 3/14/2023
Snow gone.
Dave went to R.P. Home & Harvest yesterday. He reports that they have all sorts of weird stuff, such as weighted blankets. I must go there soon.
Might even drop in at the gym and wave some dumbells around. When I was at the Grace gym on Saturday, I noticed that senior citizens can get memberships there. I should look into that, as I can walk to Grace College without filling up the whole day.
7:12 PM 3/14/2023
Dave and I wasted at least half an hour trying to refill my phone. We finally blundered into the check-out and filled in detail after detail after detail — and got "We cannot process your order at this time. Please try again later."
Dave says I can buy a card at Walmart and the nice lady in customer service will refill my phone for me.
8:42 PM 3/14/2023
Headline: "Govt. Races To Reassure U.S. That Banking System Is Safe"
I'm glad to hear that the American economy is fundamentally sound.
10:33 AM 3/15/2023
Dave is off to his first radiation treatment, wearing sweat pants bought for the occasion. Also carrying a gym bag in case he wants to go somewhere else before coming home.
Before he left, we took another whack at refilling my phone; now I'm all agitated.
Before that, I caught the wind flat, and burned the greasy papers before it could pick up again.
10:49 AM 3/15/2023
While typing, I realized that this is a good day to dry a sheet on the line, and hastened to strip the bed. I'm hours late, but I think that it will have time to dry.
When walking through the kitchen after loading the washer, I saw a bird with a long beak and a red patch on the back of its head busily searching the lawn and appearing to find a lot of bugs. I think it's a woodpecker. Then when coming back through the living room after putting the binoculars away, I spotted a nuthatch at the base of one of the cottonwood trees. A bird that might have been the woodpecker flew out of the top of the tree and landed out of sight on the lawn behind it.
11:27 AM 3/15/2023
I put the mattress pad through the dryer. The dust shaken out of the yellow blanket was gray, the dust shaken out of the blue blanket was yellow, and the dust shaken out of the rust blanket . . . is rust? Get with the program there, boy!
2:29 PM 3/15/2023
I heard a woodpecker drumming while I was hanging out the wash.
I finally found the online copy of the Kosciusko County Parks Master Plan. They filed it under "auditor". Haven't tried to plow through the hype to the substance yet.
Got on the phone yesterday and refilled my phone; also transferred it from Dave's name to mine — high time; this is the third phone on that account. TracPhone remotely bricked the one he gave me, and I wore one out.
I also signed up online for the Tour Des Lakes next July. I specified a pulled-pork sandwich for my lunch, but there's no way I'll get back to the starting point to eat it. The route passes by our house and I drop out there, after logging out at Checkpoint 2.
We are eating scallions out of the garden. I dug up a clump of eight or nine winter onions without leaving a gap in the row. Parsley and garlic chives are available, and the rhubarb is showing.
There are flower buds on some of the daffodils. No sign of the tiger lilies, but some iris leaves are showing. I'd thought that the lilies had smothered the iris.
We went to Mad Anthony on Friday and ordered everything on the special menu but corned-beef and cabbage: Whitefish dip, bangers and mash, and irish stew. I don't know what's irish about whitefish, and I'm sure that bangers and mash is served all over the United Kingdom. The irish stew came in a really-good bread bowl — Dave was wishing he had a slice of it with his egg this morning. We both ate enough to be uncomfortable, and brought home a large box and a small one. I scraped the dip into a shard of bread bowl.
On Saturday, I put the two blocks of black ice into a newly re-insulated pannier and went to the Winter Market. I needn't have bothered with the black ice; my spare bottle of water got a thick coat of ice inside, and when the other ran out, I couldn't open either bottle. (But I was almost home at that point.)
I bought two pork chops at the Winter Market, a soap dispenser at Dollar General, two spools of thread at Lowery's, four tomatillos at El Padrino, refried beans, tomato sauce, chao mein, and mazapan at Carniceria San José, and fine corn meal and a chocolate-coated piece of mazapan at Mi Poblanito.
I must look up "mazapan" and find out what it means. I've been reading it as "marzipan" for years, and wondering how compressed powdered sugar could pass itself off as almond paste. [Did on Wednesday; it's Spanish for "marzipan", and "In Latin American countries there is another, different confection called mazapan, made with peanuts."
Sunday's sermon was on what do you say if God meets you at the pearly gates and asks why you should be let in. My immediate thought was "because You're God and I'm a lost kitten in dire need of a bath and a saucer of warm milk."
Turned out that that was close to what the pastor had in mind.
I forgot to climb all the staircases in the church. But I had the walk.
This was the first time this winter I felt the need to wear sweat pants under my skirts — almost forgot to take them off when I took off my coat. I wore my red coat, but I think my shawl would have been just as warm (for the same reason that mittens are warmer than gloves), and it wouldn't have blocked access to my pockets. I walked home without an extra coat of lipstick because I didn't think of it until I was all suited up.
And Saturday was the first time I wore sweat pants on the bike — over four pairs of tights. Tights would suffice today, but I'm going to shop by car. I just can't face suiting up again when warm days are in the very near future.
We need some heavy stuff anyway, said the fox.
It's been raining all day, and I heard some thunder a while ago.
Well, that settles that. Weather Underground says that tomorrow will be the only halfway decent day for outdoor exercise in the foreseeable, and I've been dithering over where to go.
This morning, I reported the sore on my shin to Dr. Darr's office and was told to come in at 10:15 tomorrow morning.
I've packed sweat pants and egg cartons that I've been meaning to take to Our Father's House into a pannier, and can dump them on the way back. Then, if I tour the Mexican groceries and Lowery's, and eat lunch downtown, it will be late enough to take in the Home Show at the high school, which starts at 2:00 pm.
I'd better print out a map snippet showing how to get to 1 Tiger Lane without using Route 15. And put some more coins into my wallet. Mi Poblanito would be the first stop where I spend money, and she likes to be paid entirely in coins.
The weather has brightened up considerably, and I can see the other side of the lake and variations in the overcast. I heard distant thunder a few times while it was gloomy.
6:10 pm
That was easy! After supper, Dave remembered that the removal of the garbage grinder left us with a functioning outlet under the sink, that the outlet is on a switch, and that he had a plug-in socket and a flame-shaped bulb just bright enough to light up a small cupboard.
Not *perfectly* easy . . . he couldn't quite reach the outlet, so I crawled inside and, after checking that I had the wide blade aiming for the wide slot a few times, plugged it in.
And it works.
Getting Dave up off his knees wasn't easy — I had to drag a chair over to him. This will probably get worse before the radiation is over.
We had left-over turkey-wing soup with fresh-baked cornbread for supper tonight. I haven't been putting enough baking powder in my cornbread. I took the amount from a recipe for biscuits on the can, and corn flour needs more leavening than wheat flour. Also, there was too little batter to put in an egg.
On my latest shopping trip, smoked turkey wings were on clearance, so the next day I made soup with a pound of Walmart small red beans in it. When I hauled the bag of dry legumes out from under the vegetables, seasonings, and potatoes, I was astounded at how big and heavy it was. I've declared a moratorium on buying beans!
When I inspected the soup at noon, I was further surprised that despite soaking all night and cooking all morning, the beans were still crunchy. And all the color had soaked out into the broth; they looked like black-eyes peas. By supper time they had taken on the color of baked beans, and were quite soft. The wings, which had been tough at noon, had fallen off the bones.
The left-over soup is thick broth with hardly any sign of beans. I found a bone I'd missed when I took the meat out onto a platter when serving it the first time, and Dave bit into a small bone.
Dave gets Saturdays off.
I started sewing, then opened my sewing diary to record progress and spent the rest of the morning tidying files.
But it was nearly time for lunch when I finished breakfast this morning.
While I was dithering over whether it was time to get up from my nap, the phone rang: It was Zale's robot saying "Your prescription is ready". I'd hung up before I realized that I didn't know whether it was Dave's prescription or mine — mine isn't supposed to be ready until Monday after two.
I decided to fetch it anyway, and verified that I have Dave's password. I should have asked whether the store was open at four-thirty on Saturday.
I still don't believe it wasn't. I should have read the hours that were probably posted on the locked doors.
I bought a Big Wally after Monday's shopping trip, and it turned out to be a tenderloin, so before leaving, I'd said that I'd go to Penguin Point again "and this time I'll peek into the sack". (I did, but one can't see what sort of sandwich is inside the foilpaper. It *was* a Big Wally.)
On the way to Penguin Point, I passed Kroger and remembered that we need a gallon of milk. They were out of gallons of milk. I stood in astonished disbelief for a while, and another customer said "I guess the cow went dry".
I went to the baking-supply aisle (which wasn't easy to find) because I'd been wondering earlier whether there is such a product as evaporated almond milk. Not at Kroger, but I learned that MilNot costs more than the premium brand of evaporated real milk. I wonder who buys it? It isn't vegan.
I checked all the grab-n-go dairy cases, then went back to the main dairy case and got a half gallon of milk. Since I had only one item and wasn't in a hurry, I used the self-check — and it didn't crash! The screen is very cluttered, but I did find the "pay now" button. Should have paid cash, but I used the card because it was easy — except that I had to put it in three times before it worked.
I shall have to try the self-check again.
Friday's trip got abbreviated, partly because I put on my old, worn-out sandals by mistake for my summer sandals, and went home to change after the stop at Our Father's House. (The fuzzy sandals are hard to get into toe clips, not to mention that they might finish falling apart at any moment.) When I got home, it was lunch time, and after lunch, I needed a nap.
The parking lot for the Beyer Farm Trail is close to Dr. Darr's office, so I went home by way of the Trail. I had to dismount to get from the street onto the recreationway — rather uncomfortable when stopped in a traffic lane. So much for the pretense that our long skinny parks are for transportation.
The Trail ends on Lincoln Street, which passes Zales, where I picked up my prescription. Then, since I was going almost straight home, I stopped at Kroger and bought some frozen breakfasts. This is probably the first time I turned right onto Winona when coming out of the tunnel on McKinley. Going almost home was the closest way to Our Father's House; the next way across the railroad is on Bronson. While I was in Lakeview Plaza, I bought a jar of shrimp bouillion at El Poblanito.
Speaking of Zales, when I made the appointment, I was thinking "Oo, err, I'm going to miss the Tour des Lakes AGAIN.", not to mention surgery and radiation and whatnot. But all I need to do is to put cream and ointment (in that order) on the sore three times a day for a couple of weeks.
But I'm putting the ointment on first because I can't have the cream until after two on Monday.
The ointment is Mupirocin. I wonder what the cream is.
Just remembered that it's on the blue slip I present when calling for it. It's an antifungal with steroid, and Dave has a tube. But I'm not 100% sure it's the same cream, so I'm waiting until Monday.
I've found a use for the stack of six-inch squares torn from worn pillowcases, which stack I found in the first-aid drawer. (And I *still* wonder what they were for.)
When I remove the ointment before putting on a fresh layer, I want to throw the washrag I use into the laundry bin at once, to be sure I don't use it on my face. I don't trust rinsing in the sink to get all the ointment out, and the instructions are very emphatic about not getting it into an eye. That's twenty-one washrags a week, and I don't have anywhere that many. Not to mention that I don't wash washrags until I run out of dish towels.
Muslin doesn't make a very good washrag, but it will do for cleaning a one-inch spot.
The laundry now in the washer is the usual quarter load even though both pairs of dirty-work pants are in it. Last week, I was afraid that I would overload the washer. My windbreaker was washed for the first time in its life, and came out so beautiful that I hated to roll it up to take it on Friday's ride. There were other items that aren't washed very often, *and* four yards of yellow cotton that I intend to make into a summer jersey.
Afternoon:
It doesn't matter that I used my last big bandaid this morning: The cream says *not* to cover it; I must fold down my sock and wear loose clothing.
Urk. What about tomorrow's all-day ride? It's my *right* ankle that I put the cream and ointment on. I guess I can roll up the right leg of my tights, leaving a not-all-that-wide strip of bare skin between the top of the sock and the bottom of the tights. At least this didn't happen when it was really cold.
Next question: Dr. Darr said to put the ointment over the cream, but the ointment says three times a day and the cream says two.
I woke up from my nap before two, and was beginning to suit up to go fetch it when Dave texted that he'd picked it up.
It *is* the same cream, but the old one has only a couple of months left, so I'm using the new one.
Dave has calendula cream on order. The pharmacy clerk said that calendula ointment, which they have in stock, is not to be used on radiation burns because it has petrolatum in it, but she didn't know why petrolatum is forbidden.
I might finish clearing the leaves out of the garden this afternoon.
This is an official outchicken: Today would have been a good day to go to Sprawlmart, but Thursday is predicted to be warmer, sunnier, and less windy.
I didn't even go walking, or garden except for digging and cleaning nine winter-onion scallions.
Then I forgot to serve raw veggies with the left-over bean soup.
I'm zeroing in on the cornbread, though; I think that if I use an ounce less liquid in the next batch, it will be just right. Equal parts of flours and water/milk make a pancake.
It would be better with half an egg. Dave suggested that I use a yolk.
I finally finished making my new veil today. No more forgetting to wash my veil! I can keep one veil in the laundry bin. I like the soft, thin muslin better than the crinkle gauze the other is made of. It's like the six-yards-for-a-dollar muslin the first round of dollar stores sold. (These were just barely established when sales tax demolished their "we don't handle change" business model, and they didn't have enough roots to survive the change.)
I wonder what that muslin would cost if it were still being made? It was wonderful underlining for an A-line chambray sun dress.
I did garden a little — I dug some dirt from where the old compost heap was and put it into the wheelbarrow. Dave will put some into peat pots and I'll use the rest when I plant pickling onions.
I'm planning to plant enough multipliers that I can make a batch of pickled onions when they get to the fully-formed but still peel like scallions stage.
That's a very short period; I hope I don't have something else going on when the time comes.
In the morning email was a discussion on Creative Machine Mailing List of how wonderful it is, and what a rare treat it is, to wear something you've made.
That explains why these guys aren't as far behind on their sewing as I am.
I hope I make progress on my new jersey today. It's already warm enough to wear it, and I have to iron a patch onto my old one before every ride.
Dave's off to radiotherapy. He didn't get it yesterday. He complained about his swollen leg and they sent him to the Beyer Building marked "urgent", fearing that he had a thrombosis. But the sonogram showed that it was only a "complex accumulation of fluid". It *might* go away on its own.
I'm Gorilla-gluing my ragged sandals. Dave looked at them lying on the counter and was shocked that I would repair something so far gone. He thinks I can go into a shoe store and buy sandals. I told him I was a bad data point, but I don't think he groks it.
The last few times I've found sandals, it was at Walmart. I deeply regret that I didn't find out about Gorilla Glue until I'd thrown out my lace-to-the-toe sandals; they fit beautifully, but the straps came unglued.
I found another lace-up pair later, but I was wearing three pairs of thick socks when I bought them, so I don't wear them very often.
Evening:
They irradiated Dave's calf and left the sore spot alone.
I've drawn a thread to straighten the end of the fabric, and mean to cut the back and back pocket tomorrow. I'll need to draw three more threads to do that.
A handwork station has developed on the footlocker in the parlor. The footlocker is under a large window that lets in morning light.
The footlocker is on a dolly, so I could drag it into the living room when the light is coming from the west, but I haven't.
Re the tights: I put on two pairs of capri-length tights, and wore my thick-cotton bike knickers over them. Worked well. But it was nap time when I got to R.P. Home and Harvest, so I didn't look around much.
Popeye's chicken is good, but I wonder about "world famous" when I didn't know the chain existed before the Warsaw restaurant opened.
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