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Steve is installing our new wheelchair ramp.
This morning, he drove me to my appointment to get my eye injected. I was in about fifteen minutes, he said.
My gluteus maximus is still sore, but the bump on my head has gone down. Still sore if I poke it.
I finally went on a farmer's market tour!
I saw a woman coming out of the ice-rink market with something that looked like a jug of maple syrup, but a quick lap around failed to reveal a sugarbush table, and it was only thirty minutes before the fairgrounds market closed. (It closes at twelve, the other two at one.) I got there in time to buy an onion, a tomato, and the last ear of corn. Also dumped my egg cartons.
I bought cookies at the courthouse market, stopped at Zales to take notes about their scooter, and went to Kroger.
Before I'd put anything in my cart, I got a text from Dave saying we might have to go to the emergency room. I called him, then left in such a hurry that I left my helmet in the cart. The employees are so alert that the helmet was behind the service counter when I went back for it. A bag boy saw me, knew what I'd come back for, and fetched it for me.
Took about fourteen minutes to ride home. Then it took long enough to be sure the catheter was clogged that I'd changed into driving clothes and put some energy drink and a Boost into the smallest cooler. Took only the appointment bag in.
A nurse suggested flushing, the doctor said it would be simplest to go straight to changing the catheter. That was very quick; I blinked and missed most of the procedure. Then we had to wait half an hour to be sure it was working, then swap out the hospital bag for a leg bag, collect the paperwork, and go. We'll hear from them only if there is bad news from the culture.
The paperwork includes the name of a urologist with an office in Warsaw. And instructions to call him on Monday morning.
When we have an appointment to get our teeth cleaned. Hollar's office co-ordinated our appointments, so I no longer ride to his office — Dave won't fit into my pannier.
It turned out that the urologist has an office in Warsaw, but isn't in it. We'd have to drive to Fort Wayne, so we're still stuck with Goshen.
We both had cavities. Dave has an appointment for next Tuesday, I had mine filled yesterday.
On the bright side, I got to use my personal parking space, and the ride took only twenty-eight minutes and didn't leave me sore, so I haven't gone as soft as I feared. On the other hand, being under orders not to bite anything until the anesthetic wore off, and not having had lunch, I sat down on the boot-removing bench at the entrance and took a big swig from the bottle of Boost I carry in my appointment bag.
Then I mopped the bench, the floor, and my shirt, pants, and appointment bag. I must remember to refill the snack bag of paper towels I carry in my appointment bag.
I think I've figured out the mechanism of the spout. If you take a tiny sip, your tongue presses it against the roof of your mouth and it goes down your throat. If you take a big swig, when you try to swallow, the pressure rises in your entire mouth and the numb part of your lip gives way.
Being numb somehow made my left nostril feel clogged, and I kept wanting to blow my nose all the way home.
As planned, I stopped at Mary Anne's place with a bag I'd been dropping things into for months. Aside from an insulated lunch bag, I've little idea as to what was in it. The sign said "donations closed", but after I'd toured the shop and gone back to my bike, the donations worker came out to change the sign. And she discovered that the doorbell wasn't working; I left before finding out what they were going to do about that. (Another customer had been ringing the bell, having been told by the inside clerk that it was permitted.)
I passed the fairgrounds on the way home, noticed that the Wednesday market was in session, and bought a tomato. I had never been to the Wednesday market because it takes place at nap time.
We celebrated our anniversary by getting a checkup from Dave's opthalmologist.
Supper was left-over fresh hamburger and the tomato I bought on Wednesday and left to ripen on the sideboard. I had put it in the fridge to chill a little after noon, since Dave likes them cold.
Steve came over in the afternoon to visit a while and give us a card and a pecan pie. We had pie with caramel ice cream half an hour or so after supper.
Saturday's markets tour was uneventful. I bought a pint of maple syrup, a couple of tomatoes, a bag of grape tomatoes, and a half-dozen cookies. On the way back, I stopped at Zales to pick up pills, and at Kroger for cinnamon rolls.
We have made a dent in the pecan pie.
The thunderstorms didn't materialize. I was kinder hoping to get rained on! I ran my sleeves under the restroom faucet before leaving Kroger, and they were dry (but humid) when I got home.
Brent saw me coming home, and came over to help carry in the groceries, visit with Dave, ask to borrow our posthole digger, and suggest that we borrow his side-by-side tricycle.
After supper we intended to ride it out to pick up the mail, but a bit of awkwardness in the steering found us out in the street, so we went around the block. That was much too much for a first time out of the house, so on the second half of the loop I stoked and Dave steered. I had to warn him to stop pedalling once.
I put underwear in the washer after my nap, and it came out about suppertime. I put it on racks and put the racks on the picnic table, so it will be quick to bring them in if it starts to rain.
Tomorrow will be busy. Dave gets a tooth filled at one, Brenda will clean from eleven until three, and a nurse (presumably from Interim) will come between nine and ten.
Which means I must get the chore list finished and printed tonight.
The nurse came, but neither of us thought to ask her name until after she left. She was very helpful, and intends to re-arrange her entire schedule to be here when Dave's catheter needs changing.
NIPSCO is still hacking away at the tree across the street. They'd been at it a couple of days before I realized what was going on.
My first thought was "will they do our mulberry?", but the lines on this side aren't power lines. Much cheaper to let the mulberry bring them down, then clean up the mess. And I'm pretty sure NIPSCO isn't responsible for the lines on this side. (Except for the one leading to our house.)
This morning, Dave dropped me and my bike off at Forefront Dermatology for my follow-up (I had some freezing done at my annual).
Afterward, I took a lap around Parkview Warsaw because the view from the third-floor windows suggested that there ought to be ground-level entrances to the basement. There were several vehicle doors and a few staff doors, but none into the wing we'd been in — the building was banked up on the west side, and on the north side a grass ramp led up to a continuation of a walkway on the west side. There was a staircase up to the walkway, and I climbed it to look at the view. The walkway was very like a balcony, but I imagine that no-one has time to sit on it.
Thence to Aldi, where I bought all three flavors of breakfast biscuits under the impression that we were out, but we had a lot left. I also stocked up on Sweet and Salty Nut Bars, so the soda fridge is rather crowded.
Then to Zales. The prescription Dave won't need for six months was ready, but Darr has not yet responded to my request for more Levothyroxin, and the cream the dermatology nurse prescribed is on order.
I got home just soon enough to get the groceries put away before the physical therapist arrived.
I slept well at nap time.
The "protein bowl" I'd bought from the specials shelf at Aldi went over like a lead balloon at supper. Dave didn't like the crunchy beans, particularly the skins on the black beans, and I put butter and lots of sauces on mine.
When I was touring Parkview, little did I know we'd be back a little while before midnight. They did a sonogram, gave him some painkiller, and swapped out the catheter, and we were back in bed at two or three this morning.
We woke up in time to keep Dave's appointment for a blood draw, but canceled the shopping trip afterward. When discussing lemon pie, I had noted that Fort Wayne Oncology is halfway to Meijer, where I haven't been in ages.
I just read in the paper that I won't ride to Kroger next week — McKinley Street will be closed for work on the Union Lofts.
On the other hand, a bike rider can usually walk around construction.
I took the usual farmers' markets tour today, stopping at a moving sale, Zale's, Kroger, and Jimmy John's on the way back.
We ate every bit of the submarine I brought back. I think Dave ate half. He also ate one of the oatmeal cookies I bought at the courthouse market.
I looked out the window and saw a Bobcat loading the last of the tree that NIPSCO cut down onto a flatbed trailer, every log exactly over the two axles at the back. I sat outside for a while to watch.
A while later I looked out again and saw the pickup and flatbed come back, and the driver began to put up ramps to load the Bobcat. I didn't stay to watch this time. It had been gone some time, so I wondered how far away the logs were taken.
I think the town brush dump buries debris; if so, that is a sinful waste of good firewood. Not to mention wood-chip mulch from the small branches.
We took several laps around the driveway in the tricycle today. I think Dave stood up to it better than I did. Sitting in an armchair twiddling pedals does not use the same muscles as riding a bike.
We are low on eggs and milk, so I plotted to ride to Kroger tomorrow while Steve is here; I forgot that McKinley is going to be closed. Oh, well, I want to stop by Our Father's Closet to ask whether Our Father's Pantry can use cardboard coolers, and extra miles on the bike are all to the good.
It took ten minutes to ride from Kroger to Bronson Street, so I figure that McKinley being closed added twenty minutes to the trip.
Our Father's Closet didn't know whether Our Father's Pantry could use cardboard coolers, but they did say that I can drop contributions with them when they are open and Our Father's Pantry isn't.
For the out-of-towners, Our Father's Closet is a thrift shop that funds Our Father's Pantry, which feeds poor people.
I picked up a prescription and Leader's knock-off of Cortizone 10 at Zales on the way, and a "fast fifty" at the ATM machine.
I got milk and eggs at Kroger, but no bread. I couldn't find Brownberry Sandwich thins at all. The last trip, all they had was "Keto", and twice before that I settled for "multigrain" even though it's too sweet.
I couldn't find strawberry ice cream and bought "strawberry cheesecake". The sherbet was only in full-size boxes, and the ice cream occupied all the space under the black ice, so I bought black cherry sorbet.
There was a pound of hamburger on clearance and I hadn't thawed anything for supper, so I bought it and served hamburger steak for supper. Dave said he could taste it.
I'd already started chicken thighs to thawing for tomorrow, so I'll brown the rest of the package and set it aside.
Steve did a lot of work today. I wasn't around for most of it. Martha dropped in, but I didn't see her.
I made another hamburger steak out of the other half of the chub, but I've forgotten when. We had chicken schnitzel made from one of the thighs Friday. I got a very late start on the Tomato Festival tour yesterday, so the chicken and noodle soup was postponed to tonight. The package said a pound of noodles would serve four, so I figured a quarter pound would serve two. It would have served four.
I wonder whether Dave would like chicken soup for lunch tomorrow? He says his taste is almost back, and overate at supper.
We slept late, so it was nearly noon when Dave dropped me off at the gas station in Pierceton. I wasn't sure I was up to a fifteen-mile ride — and starting so late, I didn't have *time* for fifteen miles. (I average 5MPH.)
I saw a "garage sale" sign and followed it down a dead-end road to a house with a long driveway that also opened onto SR 30. I think I've been to garage sales there before. Then I went out Pierceton Road to the perennial garage sale, where I bought a Corningware Petit Pan for four dollars.
Then I leaned the bike against a tree in Brower Park and toured the festival.
Except for the big-tomato display in the Depot, tomatoes were scarce at the festival. If anybody was frying green tomatoes, I didn't see it.
I saw a booth or two selling tomatoes, but after eating my cobbler, I noticed that a bakery booth had a small table of garden vegetables to one side, marked "fill a [brown paper lunch] bag for $2." I bought two fat plum tomatoes, a small green jalapeño-looking pepper, and about a pint of cherry tomatoes, and had no further interest in finding a tomato booth.
A booth near the bakery booth was selling tomato sandwiches, and I'd planned to buy one, but just when I decided that I'd seen the festival, it started to rain and I took shelter at the Senior Center — a ramp leads up to a place where one can park a bike under a roof. The rain had stopped when I came out of the senior-center restroom but, having eaten a serving of cherry cobbler with vanilla ice cream intended for a teenager, I wasn't motivated to walk the full length of Brower Park to get a sandwich.
My route to Arthur Street went past Kelsey Designs, a junk shop, and I bought a flat can that I presume once held a reel of movie film. I put the charger cord I sometimes carry in my go bag in it.
The bed raisers Dave ordered arrived today — they look like flower pots. I thought they would be difficult to put under the legs of the bed, but Dave has a solid-oak pry bar.
I can't get used to packages arriving on Sundays.
When Dave told me he had ordered "raisers", I heard "razors", and a somewhat interesting conversation ensued.
I want a mug of warm milk in the middle of the night, but I don't want to look into a brilliant white light, so I don't open the fridge to get it. I've often wished for a fridge that would change the light to red when the room is dark.
Finally the dime dropped and I put a little milk in a mug and set it in the freezer. Then I forgot to fill it and set it on the table two or three times. Yesterday, after getting into bed, I remembered, so I got up and set it out (remembering to re-lock the garage door after fetching the mug) — and didn't wake up and want it.
Slpping hot milk at three in the morning. There must have been a power glitch because the microwave wouldn't let me have it until I found an invisible intangible button. This is somehow a safety measure.
Miranda came yesterday evening to give Dave his B-12 shot and help us with the Genworth virtual assessment. This time she used a phone instead of a laptop, and it glitched a few times.
A.M.: Half past five, and I'm about to go back to bed. The kitchen is already cluttered after Brenda cleaned it.
P.M.: Five fifty, and we just ate chicken schnitzel and corn. I started frying a little early.
I used the last ear of corn and the last leaf of kale, which was neat. Chard is good wilted (and superb if you wilt it in freshly-rendered bacon fat), but kale must be boiled to death. Yesterday, I figured out that a good way to cook it for a bedtime snack is to put it under an ear of corn being steamed for supper. Since it was cold by snack time, I ate it with salad dressing instead of butter.
Brenda cleaned the house yesterday and Abe tidied the lawn today — we're looking pretty good.
Early in the morning, Princess (from Interim) called to ask whether today was a good time to check up on us. The special trip I was planning to make to the recycle center is postponed until tomorrow, so that means (maybe) that I can also leave a jar of applesauce with Our Father's Pantry and move some of the things on the garage shelf to Mary Anne's Place.
But I can't verify that both are open on Thursday because BrightSpeed is down. I think I have notes I copied off their doors in my exercise log.
On the way home from church, I walked through the park to see what was going on with the construction. The Winona Lake powers that be are operating with their usual finesse: the tennis courts and the pickleball courts are closed for resurfacing from Friday through Tuesday — on Labor Day weekend.
The internet outage mentioned above was not the last one. We are impatiently waiting for Surf Internet to hook us up.
I bought more kale on Saturday, but no corn. I wonder whether Sweet Corn Charley is open on Labor Day? It's possible that it's the *last* day it will be open.
I did get rid of the applesauce on Thursday. The light fixture I took to the recycling center isn't recycleable, but he took pity on my gray hair and took it anyway.
As I was getting ready to mail the Banner, and reflecting that tomorrow is entirely for sewing, and I can *finally* iron my linen dress — tomorrow is Labor Day. I put it away un-ironed, the same as I did last fall. (But last fall, I'd worn and washed it.)