I always feel great trepidation when pressing "send".
I was pinning the recall notice to the recalled box of Michelina Alfredo with Chicken and Broccoli, preparing to take it back to Kroger tomorrow, when I noticed that the recalled product is "best by" August, and the one I have is September.
So I DuckkDucked "recall" and found some with September dates, so I decided to take it back anyway. [But, it turned out, not "tomorrow".]
Dave drove himself home from the emergency room, and waited in the car while I ran in for his new prescription.
I found a bottle of the lotion I'd been intending to buy on my bike tour while I was waiting for that prescription and two older ones to be packed. I didn't check anything else off today's itinerary. I did pack my pills after supper, which was late because we didn't have lunch until two.
Dave was trepidated about going in, because the last time this happened they kept him four days and we have very important appointments tomorrow and Monday, but Leah irrigated his bladder, wrote a prescription for antibiotics, and sent him home.
The phlebotomist drew what looked like a substantial fraction of a unit of blood in little vials. I'm glazed out on what else went on.
Steve arrived to install our new grab bars just before we left. The grab bars make a marvelous difference -- Dave sat on the shower stool as soon as he got home, and didn't have a bit of trouble getting up.
Nephew Dave is driving us to Fort Wayne on Monday. Tomorrow's appointment is coming to us.
She had to take her son to the hospital instead.
While making the bed, I found debris on the floor,
including a cookie fortune that said
"We can admire all we see, but we can pick only
one."
That's particularly inane when you remember that we got it at a buffet.
I put my hand down inside the wastebasket before letting go of it. It won't turn up again.
Dave has a glass bottle of vinegar on the counter for cleaning his bags. I had a seldom-used identical glass bottle in the laundry room. I think it was Sunday night that Dave noted that his bottle was running low, so I set my glass bottle on the dryer so I could get at the gallon jug of cleaning vinegar behind it. While taking the jug down, I knocked a basket off its hook and it bounced off me onto the dryer and knocked the quart bottle to the floor, where it did what falling glass does.
And I had topped it off when I cleaned the shelves. We could sweep some of it into the lobby dust pan, and Dave took some up with the sponge mop, but we were pretty short on rags when we finally got the mess cleaned up. I was glad that I still had an old-time mop stick, so that I could towel the floor standing up.
I put the rags through a rinse-and-spin and hung them on the drying rack.
Kathy furniture washed clothes Miranda
Signed final papers with Firefly & First Care. To poohed to write.
Took taxes to bank. [I rode the flatfoot.]
Dr. King tomorrow.
Dave got out of the shower saying "That grab bar makes all the difference." Also likes Irish Spring. [New shower soap recently purchsed from Amazon]
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I shouldn't have said, yesterday, that I could think of only one reason we wouldn't be home at six or seven today.
But the clog resolved itself while we were waiting for the doctor, and we were home at six.
Half past six . . .
The driveway alarm bing-bonged while I was typing that. Miranda just left off our copy of the papers Dave signed, and we are all set with home helper and case management. Home helper hasn't been scheduled yet. I must find time to go to Lowery's and look over the vaccuum cleaners before one is. I'm sure we'll need an upright; Roombas don't do well when it isn't your own carpet. I think I can do that Saturday.
The meatloaf and hamburger sauce I was going to make tonight have been postponed until tomorrow. We split a half-pound hamburger patty with cheese melted on it and a flat bun for supper.
I hope I remember what I meant by the notes I meant to expand yesterday when I find time for them tomorrow. Tonight I'm going to read my funnies and go to bed.
Today ended on a high note -- at noon Kathy brought us the last papers Dave needs to sign to get long-term care, and washed about two weeks of neglected dishes.
I was making hamburger soup at the time. I decided to put it all into the soup and make meatloaf some other time -- that squash I want to stuff will last for weeks. After supper, I filled two can-or-freeze pint jars and put them in the freezer. The rest of the soup would have fit into the small casserole, but I used the large one.
And in the evening Nalamolu's office called to say that Dave's PET scan had been scheduled.
As for yesterday and this morning, I'll tell you the gory details if I remember them when I get time to write. We did make it to Dave's 9:45 appointment with Dr. Knight. I shouldn't have gone with him -- spouses have nothing to do at eye exams -- but by then I wasn't letting him out of my sight.
I just finished unscrambling the papers in my go bag, and updating the digital copy of my calendar.
And so to bed.
I washed a top sheet today -- and promptly found that the other top sheet is dirty.
Then I got up the nerve to tackle the grey fitted sheet, which has been draped over a drying rack since Tuesday. By dint of marking each corner with a clothespin, I managed to get it into a rectangular wad that takes up a *lot* of space in the linen closet. I left the pins in, as they will make it less impossible to put the sheet on the bed.
At least I'll never have both fitted sheets in the closet at the same time.
I replaced the sateen top sheet with a flannel sheet that I'd discovered while cleaning the linen closet. If we like it, I'll replace it with one of the other flannel sheets; this one drapes clear to the floor. This one was the thickest while folded up, so I assume that the others are *not* king size.
I was wondering why getting the wash on the line left me dueless and dilatory when I noticed that it's time to eat lunch and take a nap.
I must start my nap soon; I'm probably still inclined to long naps from the night I haven't had time to write about.
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Woke up thinking I'd finally caught up on sleep.
I forgot to eat lunch first. Didn't miss it, but I nibbled some while preparing stuff to add to the soup and wiping the gaskets on the refrigerators and freezer.
I have some dry macaroni and chopped parsely and basil in a saucepan, and plan to add two bowls of soup to it and maybe some water and chili powder and cumin.
Note written Tuesday:
Kathy furniture washed clothes Miranda
/Tuesday note
We had the final interview with Miranda on Tuesday. She will come by for an hour every month to manage our case. Might give Dave his B-12 shot, as she is an RN.
Dave was thinking that he might buy another bamboo bench to put the TV on so that he could watch it from the futon. I suggested that he try the old bench first to see whether he liked it. On Monday, Kathy and I shifted furniture and found that the bench was just a tad too short. I've forgotten the details but I think we ended up with the TV on Evelyn's sewing machine, which we've been using for a sideboard, and the TV-lamp stand where the sewing machine was. It doesn't matter because on Tuesday we put everything back where it was, but much neater and cleaner.
And now for Wednesday night. (Checks) Yes, it was Wednesday.
Not all that many details. It was after Dave took his one-o'clock antibiotic that he found that his catheter was clogged -- probably not long after, as I was still awake doing sciatica exercises. (I normally do them between twelve-thirty and time for my levothyroxin, but I'd slept until one.) I took the bottle with us, and we were still in the emergency room when he took the next dose at nine, but we must have left soon after, as we had time to go home, change clothes, and eat something before arriving on time for the 9:45 eye exam.
A nurse flushed the catheter with little effect. At some point Dr. King appeared and flushed painfully and with good effect. It took a long time before what he pumped out wasn't dark red. I didn't think to ask what he was doing up at that time of night. A nurse had mentioned earlier that she'd been talking to him about another patient. and had mentioned that Dave was there.
And that's all that I remember.
Starting while I was still napping, Abe blew all the leaves off the driveway and paved surfaces and places he couldn't mow, which took quite a while, then chopped them up with his lawn mower. It's amazing how gone they are.
When we got to the emergency room, I had keys to the church, but didn't have my key to the car. I borrowed Dave's so I could park the car. Now I've got a tag that says "CAR KEY" on my go bag.
Turned out that a flush cleared the clog and irrigation cleared up the blood.
At supper, Dave remarked that it's pretty bad when they recognize you at the emergency room.
I must have gone to Aldi the last time I wore my black turtleneck -- there's a quarter in its pocket.
I carried my quarter in the watch pocket of my jeans yesterday. Linda and I enjoyed shopping together, and may do it again.
I failed to note when it was eleven o'clock.
I've learned that one can make respectable chopped liver out of left-over liver and onions with mushrooms. I was thinking of chopping it up and stirring in mayonnaise or something to stick it together, but I looked it up on the Web first and discovered that the real deal is quite easy. At least it is now that I buy pre-boiled eggs.
Just caramelize an entire onion in schmalz or duck fat -- takes a while, but one can do other things with a timer set to remind one to stir it frequently, more frequently when it begins to brown. It shrinks a lot, so if you don't think you have too much onion, you haven't enough.
Dump the livers and all their seasonings and any gravy that has cooked out of them into a chopping bowl and chop and chop and chop with my new ulu (mezzaluna). At this point I began to sympathize with those who use meat grinders, food processors, and so forth. I think I still have a meat grinder in the back corner of the southmost cupboard, but for half a pound, I'd rather chop and chop than clean it.
Then dump in the still-hot onions, being sure to scrape all that expensive duck fat into the bowl. The heat of the onions helps dissolve the butter the livers were cooked in.
Chop and chop until it would stick to a cracker, then add two boiled eggs and chop and chop some more. A rubber spatula has been returning the edges to the middle all this while.
Dave and I each had chopped-liver sandwiches for lunch.
Supper was my second pass at lamb chops. For sixty years I've been eschewing lamb because it must be cooked exactly right to be edible, but with a meat thermometer, there is nothing to it.
My attention was attracted by an "Aldi find" on lamb shanks. I thought that meant a shank bone with a little meat on it, but they meant the other end of the leg. I *think* that the chops are a regular item and I can get more in a couple of weeks. We didn't mind eating lamb two days in a row.
Our home helper is making his or her first visit tomorrow at 12:35.
Another culinary discovery: A while back I noticed that my parsnips were wilting and put them into a wide-mouth quart canning jar of water. Today I drank some of the water and found it pleasantly zippy, somewhat reminiscent of frizzante. (I looked that up: it means carbonated, but not as carbonated as spumante. But it's more carbonated than the word I was looking for.) The next time I peel a parsnip, I'm going save the peelings.
I recently discovered that I like parsnips. (I think that the impression that I didn't came of finding them only in dishes that parsnips ought not to be in.) And they don't have to steam very long to be fully cooked.
I got an e-mail from the church today. The new name is Capstone Free Methodist Church. Facebook says that the first meeting in the new building will be on December the first.
We had our first session with a home helper today. We have a lot to learn about how to use one. First off, we need a list of chores that need doing that don't involve sorting and deciding.
And I need to do a lot of sorting and deciding to clear off surfaces that I want her to clean.
She's coming next week on Tuesday, at the same time. Each week we will make the next appointment to suit her other appointments and our other appointments.
After she left I told Dave that my socializing muscles must be atrophied because I was really beat. Later I remembered that the four hours she was here neatly enclosed my nap time.
We had frozen pizza for supper. I did dig some winter onions to slice onto it. I regretted chickening out and putting on only one sparse ring of slices, as it baked out quite mild. Three mini-sweet peppers was almost overdoing it even though I ate the ends of the peppers when slicing them.
When Dave turned the TV on Wednesday morning last week, The first image was a close-up of the president-elect. Dave said "He looks as though he caught the mouse."
My plans to clear off the table hit a snag when I opened a box labeled "Crochet World" and discovered that I had written a book on how to care for cave men.
It's quite sensible for the most part, badly outdated, and my handwriting stinks.
It's notebook paper tied together with a loop of elastic, so it would be easy to take it apart and scan it, but I don't think I will. I'll just add "Good Cavekeeping" to the label on the box, wrap the box in a plastic bag, and put it back into the attic.
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The box is in the garage, waiting until the next time we back out the car. Our only appointment before my eye exam on the twenty-sixth is with the home helper, so that might be a while. And I can take myself to the eye exam; if the weather is fit to ride, we might not back out the car then.
My bag of large bags is much neater than it was before I wrapped up the box of magazines. I kinder wish I'd looked into Wierd Tales before sealing up the box.
I just noticed my fingers twiddling over the keys without any input from the cortex. So of course I'm making typos now.
It's almost time to pop the tenderloin into the oven. Dave had a brilliant idea. It's always a problem that every baking pan that is long enough is way too huge, so I need to scroonch or bend the meat.
Dave suggested hacking off a hunk to pound and bread tomorrow.
I'm planning to buy another tenderloin the next time I go to Aldi. Unless I yield to the temptation to hitch a ride with Linda before this tenderloin is far enough into the past.
🚲
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