E:\LETTERS\DECBAN11.TXT 2 December 2011 So that's where those stockings went -- I *knew* I had a pair of wool slippers -- time to put those sandals into a box on the closet shelf -- but no cycling shoes under the bed. After a while, I remembered that I keep the bike shoes under Evelyn's sewing machine in the kitchen, where it's convenient to put them on at the last minute. I was minded to go to the restaurant supply store first, to be sure of running my errand -- but that means coming straight back the way I came, unless I feel like crossing 30 twice, or walking a quarter mile on a non-existent shoulder. Or I could make a stop at Aunt Millie's; we need bread, and it travels better when there is nothing else in the pannier. 3 December 2011 I left my bike at the foot of the stairs and walked to Aunt Millie's Outlet. Less walking than when I bring the bike up the hill, and it's easier to get onto 250E when one is farther from the intersection. The white aprons were a glaring optic white, and the light-red aprons were orangish, so I bought dark-red aprons. Not as festive as I'd hoped. But they are only six dollars each. Dave was surprised by how soon I got back. Thought I'd return my book today, but it was so late when I got moving that I darned instead. I hadn't noticed that there was a pocket to put the slip saying when the book is due in -- only the older books have them -- so the slip had fallen out and was lost, so I plugged in to check my account on the website, but first I downloaded my mail -- which included a message that my book is due in three days. Since I had my card in hand, I logged in and renewed it; that way I don't have to worry about exactly when I go. Put my darning down to re-thread the needle, picked it up -- hey, where did all my darning go? Dime dropped that it was another hole, looked for the original, found a third. Could I have m*ths? Perhaps I should wash the coat and the other pair of pants, just in case. Dropped the needle when using the last inch of a thread, and a #10 crewel dropped is a #10 crewel lost. I have plenty more, but I have visions of finding it with my foot. One old sewing book suggested putting down a crumb cloth to sit on while sewing -- it's beginning to sound like a good idea. But I could find a needle in the carpet with a magnet; it's my clothes and the project itself that hopelessly confuse the issue. Perhaps I should start doing coarser work that calls for visible tools! But I lost a bodkin once; going to #9 needles might not help. 4 December 2011 A triple spoonerism in the wild! I was tempted to post to alt.english.usage. Half dressed, half asleep, I noticed that it was time to quit playing Crystallize and cook supper, so I said "I think I'll sho gut a pirt on." 5 December 2011 My cornbread casserole saved the dinner! My rice cooker was the only one of the pots on the counter that had a "power on" light; without it, we wouldn't have noticed that the record number of crockpots had blown a fuse. I think I'll try a crockpot for cooking the cornbread casserole the next time I make it. I meant to put a squirt of honey in this time, in deference to people who think that candied sweet potatoes are a vegetable, but I forgot. They scraped out as much as they could, so I guess I don't need to sweeten it. It was a lovely dinner. I hope the decorating party went as well as the dinner, but I didn't even go upstairs to look; I walked home as soon as the dish-washing eased off. I did put two cookies and a brownie into a sandwich bag before I left (dessert was to be served after decorating). Wrote the above in the middle of the night. Apart from the anti-nap, I slept soundly. The weather bureau says that Wednesday will be a good day to return my book. The fridge says that it will be a good day to go to Aldi and buy deli-sliced cheese, but I think we can hold out for a while. I have an un-opened stick of sharp white cheddar. Dave had a low-carb breakfast. I had the same thing on a bagel. 6 December 2011 Just put "chocolate" on my shopping list. I've been not buying chocolate when at Aldi because we have plenty, but four of those five bars are inedible chocolate I've set aside to substitute for cocoa in cooking. Having heard that chocolate is good in chili, I added a small piece of the pressed-cocoa "chocolate" to the sauce I made out of a hamburger patty and quite a lot of celery yesterday evening. But I was in "every spice I can lay my hands on" mode, including cumin, pinches of ginger and cinnamon, a rounded teaspoon of "italian herbs" (in lieu of thymenoregano), and a heavy layer of chili powder over all, so the most I can say is that the chocolate didn't hurt it any. I think I used some of Monday's allotment of energy on Sunday. So I'm doing the wash today. That, and I wanted to include what I wore yesterday in the load of blacks. I never understood people who thought that having to rest up the day after was a reason for not doing things. Except when there's something you need or want to do on the day you'd have to rest. But that's alla same as sitting around with my feet up the day before the September Century bicycle ride, or young folks waiting until Friday to stay up all night. 7 December 2011 Not much infamy around here. I drove to the church and did Tuesday's work, then walked to Martha's house and we had a nice chat, during which I crocheted most of a baby bootie and she puzzled over a sewing pattern. I'd been missing our Wednesday evening meetings. Then to Walgreen and Owen, a fried cheese hamwich made with just-bought lunch meat and cheese, a few computer games, and a nap. Dave woke me to fry the overspiced minute steaks I'd impulse-bought in the quick-sale section. I zapped sweet potato, apple, and cinnamon sugar as I'd done yesterday, but it was a different bag of sweet potatoes, a different bag of apples, a different jar of cinnamon sugar, and not as good -- and sweet stodge doesn't go well with overspiced beef. I think the steaks were meant to go on a bun. 8 December 2011 I should pre-pend to my confused ramblings that Dave looked pretty good when I last left him, and the only reason the doctor is keeping him overnight is that he wants to do some tests at four in the morning. We are reasonably sure that the whole mess was a reaction to Lanacane. Random observations: Al is suffering from a severe person-sitting-at-Dave's- computer deficit. Park Avenue was lined with parked cars when I came home about six, but the two restaurants are the only businesses open, and they can't seat more people than will fit into their parking lots. Parker Street is much nicer in the daytime when the street lights don't glare in your eyes. Hospital bathrooms don't lock, and have red-orange strings attached to "help!" switches. Somebody dropped a keychain knife that looks very like mine, and it's half open. Hospital cuisine has much improved -- I must write an essay on that later. Right now I'm going read my funnies, then take Dave's Kindle charger and Kindle to him so he can read his. Home again, home again, and the cat wants petting. Yesterday, I made a point of walking through the church on my way back to the car after I left Martha, and admired the decorations. Festive, but not fussy. And they didn't wind garlands around the handrails on the staircases. I was a bit surprised to see the pew-end candles back after all the wax that hit the carpet last year. The streets were still lined with cars when I went back to the hospital about half-past seven, and when I came back around eight -- but the second time, I met a lot of people leaving town, and there were people coming out of Rhodeheaver -- the sign said it was a dinner for Grace employees. Parker wasn't as bad as the first time I drove it in the dark -- still too many lights, and they are still all at eye level, but they are orange enough that one can get used to it. But still, the bluebell-shaped lights couldn't have been that much more expensive. (But they would require a higher post. On the other hand, they could use half as much wattage if all the light went down.) And now I am informed that it is time to feed the cat. 9 December 2011 Snow all over the ground -- and we didn't park either vehicle in the garage. I slept like a rock -- into bed before midnight, and I didn't wake up until five. Then slept again until nearly nine. Home again. Dave has gone out, and I'm about to take a nap. Back to normal. I hope I can remember enough to write a coherent account. Dave reviewed the IP cam e-mails to watch all the comings and goings on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. I didn't realize how out of it he'd been until he got all the times wrong when looking for the pictures. Pity I didn't think to bring the camera and get a shot of his swollen face. Evening: Dave and I just calculated that I made five trips to the hospital and back; no wonder I'm not desperately eager to get out of the house tomorrow. Time to attempt a coherent account. Some of the details are already fuzzy. Wednesday night I went to bed in the general neighborhood of midnight, and shortly thereafter Dave got up and said he didn't think he could wait for his appointment to have his arm looked at. After a while, it got through my head that he meant *now*, so I got up and put on my clothes, and grabbed a book and a ball of string and put them into my bag -- I knew the entertainments in the emergency-room waiting room were very picked-over, having supplied a detectable fraction of them myself. So I dropped Dave off at the emergency-room door and parked the car, and came back to find him still explaining the situation to the check-in clerk. To my surprise, I was allowed to go in with him -- but I did finish the bootie I'd started at Martha's, and start a chain to crochet the other. I'm far from sure *when*. Doctors and nurses shot him full of this that and the other, after *finally* managing to install an intravenous line. Dave says that he doesn't remember that part, but he sure noticed it at the time. Part of the trouble was that they didn't want to touch the arm that had had the fluorocil on it, and the phlebotomist had used the only good spot on the other. (Both arms were so swollen that he couldn't make a fist.) Lots of lab work, lots of questions, but we couldn't remember anything new that might have touched off the allergy attack. Eventually the doctor decided that he could go home, provided he promised to call his GP in the morning, and gave us prescriptions for three over-the-counter drugs and left a note for the next shift to call a prescription to Zales. No, he forgot the antibiotic, called us at home, and said then that he would leave a note to call Zales. So we stopped at Walgreens on the way home and a clerk guided us to the drugs we needed. The doctor's call came pretty soon after we got home -- I wonder whether it was his first try? Before going to bed, Dave sprayed his itchy arm with Lanacane, then epiphany struck and he washed it off, but apparently that wasn't enough. I think we were back in bed at two or three. Seemed to me that I was just getting comfortable when Dave woke me up, but the first time I found a clock at the hospital, it was after six. This time he couldn't talk properly, and I dialed 911 without even noticing that his face was so swollen that he looked like Shrek. The dispatcher managed to worm the information out of me. I was much impressed that the very first words she spoke were "where is the emergency". I was grateful for cordless phones so that I could run around like a headless chicken and talk at the same time -- but trying to put a bra on with a phone in one hand is Not Easy. I managed it, but got it on backward. Meanwhile Dave got dressed and the ambulance arrived. I put the phone back on the charger and dashed to the bedroom and put on a flannel nightgown I keep at the front of the closet for just such an emergency. (I wasn't thinking of anything quite so emergent when I put it there!) When Dave opened the door (which he did before they got to it, having seen the flashing lights) the guy said "are you the patient", not "where is the patient" -- I guess *he* noticed the swollen face! There was something said about first responders not needed. When Dave reviewed the IP cam motion-detector pictures, he noticed a second vehicle that arrived shortly after the ambulance, then disappeared. (We thought the motion detector would catch deer and cats and possums, not us!) Dave said I'll get my coat; they said "we'll give you a blanket" and strapped him to the stretcher immediately. I said I'd bring him his coat. So I got dressed, and re-arranged my bag -- I think that this is when I added the slacks I'm darning, but I may have done that when I brought him the Kindle. I did put the Lanacane into my bag at this time, and when we showed it to the doctor he threw it out to be sure Dave didn't use it again. The basket had probably been emptied before I realized that we hadn't copied off the list of ingredients. And now I'm getting all confused and it's pushing midnight. Dave went to bed about ten, as usual. 10 December 2011 Swelling resumed -- one eye and welts on his neck -- but a telephone consultation was all that was required, and he already had some Prednisone, so we didn't even have to go back to Zale. Back to Thursday morning -- we hung around the emergency room for a while. They couldn't find a good vein, so he got an IM shot in the butt. He was surprised to find the bandaid after checking out; he must have been shockier than he was acting. Eventually the doctor decided that he didn't want to risk having to send the ambulance out again and checked him in; it was daylight when we moved upstairs. After a while I went home for lunch and a nap, so it must have been supper that we had together from room service. I tried to nag him into ordering salad, but there wasn't any green salad on the menu, or much else in the way of raw veggies other than a chef salad. But I got lettuce and tomato with my quesadilla, which turned out to be the tortilla equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich. Dave had meatloaf and mashed potatoes with gravy. One thing I really like about KCH is that they feed the patients when they are hungry. Well, we were advised to order when we thought we'd be hungry in about half an hour. Sure beats Albany Med -- I'm sure I've posted many times about ordering one's food the day before, with the result that I got spicy food when I couldn't even bear to hear food mentioned. And my room-mate, who was starving because she couldn't eat, got the same heavy foods on the same rigid schedule as the rest of us. Even when she was hungry, the sight of the laden tray put her off. There should have been an assortment of teeny-tiny servings available at all times. I spent a lot of time darning holes in my brown-plaid wool pants, which interested one of the nurses. I went home after supper, but came back after a while to take Dave his Kindle charger -- and his Kindle, which I'd put into my bag after the battery ran down. By then he'd been informed that he was staying the night, but when the doctors did rounds in the morning they dismissed him. Today I did two loads of wash, and dried everything indoors. It dried fast; we'll need to haul out the humidifier before long. I didn't get around to the ironing, and Tuesday's load of blacks included a skirt I want to wear tomorrow. 11 December 2011 Dave is still itchy, and says swallowing feels funny. He sounds normal, though -- I can always tell when he's been mowing the lawn by the way he talks. Got my red-silk shirt out to put it on: oops, I washed it and put it away for the season last year -- un-ironed. Then when I went to press it, I discovered an overlooked candle-wax stain right in front, in the most conspicuous place. So instead of a black skirt and a red shirt, I'm wearing a red skirt and a black shirt. No passport pockets or watch pockets in the older skirt, and the broadfall pockets are a tad skimpy -- which gives me better access to the comb in the pocket in my underdress, so that's all to the good. 12 December 2011 Dave said he slept well -- "I didn't wake up itching every hour". I was in bed at half-past eleven, got up at half-past midnight and read the Monday/Wednesday/Friday funnies (Two Cows and a Chicken wasn't up yet), and woke up at eight all bright-eyed and ready to go -- but Dave and Al looked so comfortable that I went back to bed and didn't wake again until half-past nine. Dave still "doesn't feel too good" and has a little swelling under one eye. He's seeing Dr. Paninameni (spelling approximate) at 1:45 for the follow-up. The sausages stuck together, so I took out a block of four -- twice what we need for eggs -- so later on I got out two heels of bread and sprinkled some "three pepper and onion" on the warm grill. Dave's out of the shower so it's time to turn the grill back on. There were two packages opened. so after sprinkling pepper and onion out of one onto the grill, I dumped the other into it -- and the other was chopped green pepper. No way to separate them. I put the mixed package in a basket instead of the vegetable bin, hoping that seeing it would give me ideas for using it up. I've always been inclined to pick up the item next to the one I want, but I think this takes the cake: I opened the drawer, couldn't see my little tinplate spatula, did see the black plastic spatula, remembered that I want to use that one on the non-stick grill anyway, flipped the sausages -- and discovered that I had the tinplate spatula in my hand. I hear that the grill has re-heated. It was delicious, and now it's time to suit up for my ride -- lovely day; I can stay out for a significant time without a coat -- but I'm not in the mood. Besides, it's nearly eleven, and I really need to iron my black skirt and wash the wax stain out of my red silk shirt. Naptime: spent the morning fiddling with the computer, but did get the silk shirt washed. Large amounts of red dye in the water. The decorators found an elegant way keep wax off the carpet: they didn't light the pew-end candles! Candles shouldn't be lit unless it's after dark anyway. Evening: I could have typed the whole list in the time it took me to persuade the computer to produce three addressed envelopes, three paper jams, and quite a lot of test sheets. I suspect that I'm going to end up doing the job with a ball-point pen. 13 December 2011 Dave had a program that would print on envelopes. It refused to print on greeting-card envelopes, but one of the metric sizes wasn't too far off. So we got all but one addressed this morning -- Joe's current address wasn't in the list I gave him. My marjoram plant died a few days ago. I think that's the longest an herb has lasted while sharing a pot with the rosemary. It's time to give the rosemary a severe pruning. Hate to do it when I have no use for the prunings! I think I'm going for a ride today. At least I have my suit on and my water bottles freshened. Since the book is renewed, I'm going to Staples and Aldi. I gave brief thought to going to the library by way of Husky Trail after buying paper. Got rained on, but not much. It stopped while I was in Staples, and after that the weather was fairly pleasant. And my rain jacket and gloves had dried while draped over the shopping cart. There was no mint chocolate in the first two boxes at Aldi, and I couldn't quite reach the third. Not to mention that I'd had trouble finding a place to set the first box while searching the second. Somebody must *really* like mint! I got one orange, one chili, and two plain dark. Still haven't ironed. I'm two washes behind. But a nap is next on my agenda. December 15, 2011 I stopped at the church on the way back from Aldi's on Tuesday; I didn't want to walk back after dark, and the food in my panniers was colder than it would be after I put it into the fridge. I put on an apron before cleaning the fridges to protect my wool jersey, and found four of the six aprons missing, presumably taken home to wash. The resume' paper I bought was definitely overkill for greeting cards -- and I'd have gleefully traded the watermark for the absence of gray spots -- but I mainly wanted heavy paper for my calling-card sewing kits, and all- cotton paper is much better for that purpose. This afternoon, I finally got the cards into the mail -- can I get away with blaming last week's distraction for the delay? I under-dressed a little for the walk to the post office, but it wasn't bad as long as I kept moving -- Dave was surprised at how soon I got back. The poor little coots had taken shelter from the wind in the canal, and I flushed them out into the lake by returning along the Greenway. Found two more overlooked addresses when I checked the envelopes against the mailing list. So I guess I'll ask Dave to fire up the envelope-addressing program again. We do have a typewriter stashed away somewhere, but I'm pretty sure it's a manual and I no longer have the relevant muscles. It's supposed to be a pleasant day tomorrow; perhaps I'll return the book. 16 December 2011 All suited up -- not sure I'm ready to go. Dave's arm has been itching ferociously. When I feel mean, I tell him to spray it with Lanacane. Vaseline and A&D ointment help some, because the "burns" from the topical chemo have healed to the dry and flaky stage. A few days ago I was combing my hair in front of a mirror -- I usually go outside on account of shedding like a cat & long hair messes up the vacuum cleaner -- and noticed that my pigtail has matured into a hogtail: the curl at the end is completely gone. I wonder when -- and why -- my hair stopped being curly. The cow lick I discovered when I started wearing a Gibson hairdo is still going strong! At least I only inherited Dad's cowlick *once*. If I comb carefully, I can make it look like a feature. 17 December 2011 Forgot the magazines, so I went by streets instead of the boardwalk, which took me past Warsaw Health Food, so I stopped for some corn flour and bought nuts, figs, and rice while I was at it. I meant to have lunch downtown, but when I left the library, I realized that I was all through and what I really wanted was the last frozen tamale zapped in canned salsa. Ironed this evening, finally, but couldn't iron my red silk blouse-slip. It's a pull-over, and I just can't get at the sleeves. And it has a broken bar tack, so I'll wear the outfit I wore to the Christmas dinner tomorrow. Made six blueberry fruitcakes today and put them in the freezer. Also made a mini-cake, which we split at supper. I don't think I'll make any more with blueberry. Went to Owen's after supper, since we were nearly out of milk and salad. I put the coupon for Coco-Wheats in my pocket, but forgot to put a package in the cart. Neither of us should eat sweetened starch anyway. I did redeem two coupons for TV dinners. We've been hitting those pretty hard of late. But we'll have a cooked meal tomorrow: I bought two stuffed pork chops. Parking lot was jammed, and I thought that everybody went shopping after supper, but there was hardly anybody checking out when I left. Only three lanes open, the up-to- fifteen was deserted, and only one person, already partly checked, was ahead of me in the lane I chose. There were more vacant spaces in the lot when I left than when I arrived -- maybe everybody else shopped *before* supper; we eat earlier than most, and it was only six when I rolled out. 18 December 2011 I'm not happy with the John Carter graphic novel I checked out. Mostly because it weighs about the same as the Complete Works of Shakespeare, which makes deciphering the pictures rather dispiriting -- comics are supposed to be served up in small doses. And it's paperbound, therefore hard to hold open. I feel as though I needed a magnifying glass even though the pages are larger than they were in the original comic, and the letters are plenty big when one looks at the size rather than trying to read them. Maybe I should try using a lectern. 19 December 2011 Woke up with sore calves after my nap yesterday, and can't think of anything unusual I did in the morning. Sunday Lane was steeper than usual, but not from extra effort -- I was stepping on my skirt. I've worn that skirt to church countless times, but I don't recall having to hold it up outdoors before. (I never walk up the stairs on Ninth Street -- on Sunday, anyway -- always Sunday Lane or Chestnut.) I noticed that the creek was still up, but there was at least half a foot of wet grass showing. Probably lower by now, since it hasn't rained. The candles were lit yesterday -- but the jars were less than half full of wax, and when people got up to leave the ushers hurried around to blow them out. Another observation: the fruit and grain bars I keep to put into my pocket when I haven't time to eat breakfast don't help a bit when I forget to eat them on the way to church. I did snarf them down while changing the ice trays after the service. There was just enough room in the bin for the ice; either we haven't been using much, or somebody has taken note of the cartoon posted on the fridge. Two loads of wash today. Eight bras rather crowd the drying rod. I don't think I've ever washed all but one on the same day before. I'm sure glad that I have nine! Experiment: I've got a package of mincemeat and a stick of butter cooling on the stove, and plan to add an egg and make it into Mrs. Stanley's Spice Cupcakes later on. Once upon a time I bought some cracker-sliced cheese in a disposable butter dish at Aldi, and was disappointed when there wasn't any more the next time I went. So I was very pleased when Owen started selling Private Selection cheese in the same package, and we're working on the second dish of gouda and the third of New York cheddar. I have discovered a use for the empty dish: when I leave a slice of cheese out to get warm, I have to come back to it at exactly the right moment, because it starts drying up before it reaches full flavor, and commences oozing oil soon after. Leave a slice of cheese out in one of those dishes, and it will keep good for *hours*. I'm going to have to ride to Pierceton Real Soon Now. One morning I dropped the horn comb I bought at Jas. Townsend & Sons onto a tile floor, and though it didn't appear to take any harm, when I reached into my pocket for it later in the day, it was in two pieces. The larger piece is exactly the credit-card size comb I've been wanting to carry in my wallet, but my other pocket comb isn't honestly suited to long hair. Weather bureau says Thursday will be the first suitable day. 21 December 2011 That was quite clearly an anxiety dream, but what I was anxious about I have no clue. Odds are the most-important part was lost to failing to think about it immediately upon waking: the meaning of what was written on the blackboard and why writing "404" instead of "403" was important to me personally. I retain the vague impression that the numbers were decimal character codes. So, wanting to call the professor's attention to the mistake, I got onto an elevator intending to go to his office, but it went down alarmingly long, I gradually became aware that we were now travelling horizontally and that it was an intercontinental train. (Between-tunnel glimpses of blue sky with fluffy white clouds clued me in.) And along the way I checked yesterday's class notes (which looked remarkably like my real-life shopping list) and found that they said "403", which meant that the mistake was only a typo, soon to be erased, and didn't need to be called to the professor's attention at all. I woke up thinking that such a mistake would be harder on an airplane than on a train, but absent TSA agents and ticket checkers, it would be easy to go through a modern boarding gate without being aware that one has left the building, and even the latest platforms let you see the train itself. Not to mention that trains don't cross oceans. I suppose one could get onto a train thinking that it was mass transit. ----------------------------------------------------------- I made three figgy puddings yesterday, and plan to make six apricot cakes this morning. Fruitcake tomorrow! I think I'll have yesterday's quality-control cake for breakfast. Six cakes out of the oven before breakfast! I think I'll skip straight to lunch. I checked out _Scary Classics_ because I wanted to see how Edgar Rice Burroughs counted as one of "The Greatest Horror Writers Of All Time". His entry was "The Lion" (From, if I recall correctly, _Jungle Tales of Tarzan_), in which an adolescent Tarzan dresses up in a lion skin and gets severely thumped, but doesn't learn much. Next up was Doyle's "The Red-headed League", straight-forward detection, a Father Brown story in which there isn't even a crime . . . I suspect that it isn't going to get much scarier as I read deeper into the book -- which suits me, but constitutes a fraud upon those who bought the book because of the drippy letters and out-of-focus graveyard scene on the cover. 22 December 2011 The solstice is today, if I recall correctly. I went to Aldi on my bike. Was thinking of Pierceton, but there were predictions of rain later on. 24 December 2011 This morning I thought of a solution to the hypertext Banner: compose it in hypertext, but use Firefox to paste it into e-mail. I tried it on the July Banner, and Firefox neatly converted it into plain text acceptable to Thunderbird. Haven't mailed myself a copy, though. Now I have to change all the future links in the index to the back-up page: http://davebeeson.home.comcast.net/~davebeeson/LETTERS/MONBAN12.HTM On my way to Aldi last Thursday, I stopped at Big R and found that they'd gotten in medium and large thick wool socks. I wanted "small", but medium works and I bought two pairs. That makes three, which should get me through the winter. Provided that I always wear a black pair over them. That was one of those moments of "well, duh!" -- I'd been hunting and hunting and hunting for black thick socks to wear with sandals, and coming up with nothing both black and warm, when I realized: if you want your socks thick, you can wear two pairs! And as a bonus, cheap nylon knee hose protect the expensive wool from wear. I had a mess of receipts when I got back: I also bought a few cans of cat food at the pet store, and I bought the socks one pair at a time so I could try the first pair on before buying the second. Meant to get half a dozen, but they were more expensive than I had thought. Still cheaper than "Smartwool", which is primarily synthetic. &%#@! Just as I managed to finish packing the for-some- reason incohesive dough into the pans, I noticed two eggs on the cutting board, ready to be stirred into the batter. I briefly considered dumping the dough back into the mixing bowl and re-greasing and re-nutting the pans, then garnished the cakes and put them into the oven. The eggs were supposed to go in before the flour anyway. Now I'll have to do the whole Alton Brown procedure over again to find out whether the new recipe works. Six O'clock, and I'm settled in for the evening. I meant to deliver presents tonight, but Christmas Day will do as well as Christmas Eve. The eggless cake is edible. Every time Dave comes out of the bathroom after washing his scaly arm, he says "I really like that new faucet!" The sun is still far enough to the south to shine on the sink in the bathroom off the bedroom. So I had to wash the "cultured marble" counter. 25 December 2011 The presents are delivered, dinner is in the pot -- we've been snitching corned beef all afternoon, and I had a soup plate of cabbage for lunch -- and there is nothing to do until New Year's Day. Perhaps it is time clear up some of the confusion I've been spreading about our little incident. To begin at the beginning, it probably goes all the way back to Texas in the early forties. Most sun damage is done to your skin when you are a little kid, and redheads are supposed to live in misty lands where the sun is far to the south. So Dave gets "keratoses" -- little patches of abnormally thick skin. Keratosis is harmless in itself, but Dave's father had skin cancer, and when abnormal dividing is going on, it sometimes gets *more* abnormal, so Dave's dermatologist treats his keratoses aggressively -- when he's collected a lot of them, he must use a cream that targets rapidly-dividing cells. This is a sort of topical chemotherapy, and we call it "hamburger cream" for the way his skin looks when the Fluorouracil is doing its job. Well, he had a course of hamburger cream on his left arm a while back, and after that was satisfactorily completed, he started in on his right arm with a prescription for hamburger cream stronger than before. This treatment turned out to be a little *too* aggressive, and he terminated it early, but the healing lesions itched ferociously -- and that's when he bought the Lanacane spray. Which led to the kerfuffle in the night, and now he has to carry an epipen just in case. On the bright side, the scabs are *finally* peeling off, and they don't make him wait as long after he gets his allergy shots 'cause he has his epipen. I'd always imagined an epipen as about the size and shape of a ball point, or a penlight, but it's more like a TV remote. It does fit into a pocket, and is smaller when taken out of the case. 26 December 2011 He woke up scab free and feeling more lively. The new skin still itches, and he has scars. Last time he washed his arm with peroxide, he still got fizzy spots. Three loads of wash, and I forgot to put in my white hat and white jeans. I must get around to replacing the missing hook on my other white jeans so I can store these in the laundry hamper. I did remember to wash the grocery bags, and hung them out on the line -- no coat, just a hat and fuzzy slippers. It's been a lovely day. Finally opened one of the four-packs of suit hangers I bought at Big R. Still not short of hangers, but it was easier to open the package than to walk to the closet. I suppose this means it would be safe to round up and dispose of the hangers I don't like much. Reuben for lunch -- I'm going to do the same again for supper. Last night, I set out the mixing bowl to remind me to make rye bread, but this morning I decided that the bread we had would do fine. Then as I was stepping over excellent sticks while hanging out the sheet and grocery bags, I thought it a pity that I had no dough to bake over an open fire. But if I had made bread, I would have put it into loaf pans. But wait, it wouldn't have finished its first rise when I was hanging the whites. Shared activities of the evening: we ate half a pomegranate, cleaned the cat's ears, and cut Dave's hair. 27 December 2011 I got my ironing done before it had hung around for weeks, for a change. Nothing in that wash but one of Dave's shirts. Also ironed a pair of linen petti-pants from the wash before. A pain, and I did a lousy job -- but it *is* underwear. My leg board -- an 8" x 38" piece of cabinet- grade plywood -- was a big help. 28 December 2011 The last batch of cakes are in the oven. Now what do I do with the bag of sliced almonds I decided to use chopped pecans instead of? The almonds did come in handy when I realized I'd forgotten to nut the pan for the quality-control cake right after dumping the last of the pecans into the batter. Kinder makes the little cake lacking as a check on the quality of the big ones, though. Hit three stores this morning. My main reason for going to Aldi was that I'm out of calcium with D, but they appear not to carry that any more. The chocolate had a "shipment due today" air, but there wasn't any vacant space among the pills, so it isn't just that they were out. This batch of cake is a decided improvement over the one I left the eggs out of. I think I'll go back to Mrs. Stanley for future batches, though. Might put an extra egg in! The last store I hit was Aunt Millie's Outlet, and I had to re-arrange the freezer to make room for bread. I got a *lot* of the little slimwich buns, since they don't often have whole wheat. I got one bag of "eight grain" too, even though I know it's really white bread. I also got a loaf of white bread posing as brown; I must make sure Dave knows which one it is. 29 December 2011 I think it was the day before yesterday that we woke up to find the lawn covered with wet snow. There are still large patches that are white between the grass clumps, and I had to poke ice off the corners of the car yesterday. Pity I forgot to put the hot whites on to soak yesterday. The National Weather Service predicts freezing rain, but so far, it looks as though they are mistaken. I added the last of the mixed bag of peppers to my chicken fried rice for lunch. I typed "chicken-fried" the first time. I wonder how one would go about making chicken-fried rice? First, I think, you'd have to mold the rice into patties. 30 December 2011 Every now and again I get an e-mail from Facebook saying that I have something to attend to, borrow Dave's computer, log in, poke around the site for fifteen minutes or half an hour without finding the thing I'm supposed to attend to, and log out. Whereupon I get an e-mail saying Welcome back! Where ya been? Today, I got an e-mail saying I had a "notification", and just for laughs I clicked on the link -- lo and behold, I actually logged into the site and read a notification that somebody on -- "Cityville", I think it was -- wanted my attention, but I couldn't find out what she wanted without clicking on "I authorize Cityville to post on Facebook in my name". Who on Earth would authorize *that*? Also found and approved a friend request, then decided to post a message saying that now that I *can* check in, maybe I *will*. But I couldn't find the posting place, or even read my wall. There's a lot of stuff on Facebook pages that you can't see unless you click "no style". No wonder they take so long to load! (Though it isn't near as bad as it was when I first joined; in fact, I don't recall unreasonable delays during this session.) I wonder why some Gocomics pages never stop loading. I've gotten distracted after clicking the Gocomics folder, wandered off for half an hour, and come back to find some of the tabs still loading. Oddly enough, the loading indicator stops twirling if I pull the data cable before reading them, as I sometimes do when I plan to shut down as soon as I've finished reading. They have to stop loading, but if I pulled the cable while a page was downloading real data, I would get a complaint about the interruption. I'm in the habit of backing up to Drive E just before closing the word processor -- such a strong habit that if I back up in the middle of a composition, I must deliberately *not* tap "exit" after tapping "save". 1 January 2012 I meant to mail this at midnight yesterday. We had a lovely time at Alice's -- pity Sara Lee couldn't come. We drove through a couple of heavy flurries, but it didn't look as though it had snowed a flake when we got home. Started a few minutes later, though, so Dave put the Versa in the garage. Closed the old year out pleasantly by going to bed before midnight, and started the new year right by getting up bright and early -- at 8:30 instead of 9:00. Yesterday, I cut out a pattern I've been wanting to test, and cut three and a half inches off Dave's new Carharts and hemmed them up. Also repaired some errors in my Web pages. I found a howling mistake in "A Crash Course in Math", and re- calculated three different ways and got three different answers. Gave up and went off to do something else, whereupon I realized that I'd been thinking of 39" as a meter -- which is right and proper, but I know that a meter is four inches longer than a yard, so I was subtracting 36 from 39 and getting four. I still can't figure out how I got the original wrong answer. And I'm about to upload the corrected copy over the last copy of the wrong answer, so I'll never know. The mistake was a gross violation of Dr. Kolitshew's dictum: first check whether your answer is *possible*.