I looked at Al's sore this morning, and over half of it is not only normal skin, but fuzzed over with new fur. I just hope it doesn't come back when we've finished tapering off the Prednisone.
I'm planning to wear my wizard suit, with makeup, to First Friday. I might even paint my face with Cover Girl before putting the green stripes on — I think that foundation would help the eye shadow stick.
Did; painting my face with foundation made me look more witchly: attempting to cover wrinkles emphasizes them. But it changed the green stripes to black. Partly, I suppose, by adding grease to the mix, and partly by adding pink.
I did a poor job of arranging the stripes; partly lack of practice, and partly because I'd thrown away the sponge applicator and Q-tips aren't as precise. And with foundation underneath, I didn't have the option of wiping off a mistake.
I took a walk around the village, verifying (as I'd noted in the dark yesterday) that the street beside the Cerulean is gone. They also sawed off and dug out the sidewalk, and poured a new one on the other side, with an extension that crosses the former street to meet the sidewalk on the canal side of the Cerulean. The patch of dug-upness is surrounded by wooden fence posts a hand taller than I am, and sockets that appear to be intended for the addition of more posts. In the immortal words of Der Captain, "vot der dumboozle?"
I suppose we'll get exercise walking down to see what's going on.
The trick-or-treaters weren't out yet when I took my walk (they were beginning to appear on the return leg), but a waitress from the cerulean dashed out with a bowl of candy and asked whether I was trick-or-treating.
When I got back, I washed my face and changed my shirt and we went to the Mexican place on Center Street. The salsa there isn't as good as the salsa at the place on Buffalo, but the ambience is much quieter and the food is at least as good. It did fill up with excited children when we were nearly done eating.
Then we walked around First Friday a little, and toured the Himalayan Salt shop. There was only one sculpture there that I could see giving house-room to. And that one would be *very* hard to dust. (It was a pile of chunks with an LED in it, intended to suggest glowing coals.)
I was looking for something to do instead of going to the Farmers' Markets, which have closed for the winter, and we were almost out of milk, so I rode to Owen's the long way. Stopped at the flea market on Market street, toured the new furniture store next door (It's huge: takes up the whole rest of the strip mall), and went to the library. Then I crossed Detroit at the light and walked to the Chinatown Express, stopping at the hobby shop to enquire about a propeller for making a beanie. (I actually want to make a Gilligan hat, but let's not confuse the clerk with details.) They don't, but said it's worth checking back every few weeks.
Then instead of eating at the chinese place, I went to the KFC next door. I wish I'd gone to the Penguin Point on the other side of Chinatown Express.
I slipped on rotting wet leaves on the boardwalk and crashed. It was like touching wheels: the event itself didn't happen, just wham!, I'm lying in the leaves. I didn't think I was hurt much, but when it was time for my nap, it was extremely difficult to lie down, and even harder to get up. Oddly, lying on the side I bashed doesn't hurt, but lying on the other side hurts a lot. Another resemblance to wheel-touching: for a while, I could detect soreness in the neck muscles on the opposite side of my neck, from being strained to keep my head from hitting the boards.
Also found some spectacular dirt on my only wool long-sleeved jersey. That washed out, but the food stain remained as bright as ever even though I put peroxide on it both before and after wetting it with laundry soap. Didn't think of rubbing it with bar soap.
Shortly after the crash, I looked at one of the small streams that flow through the swamp, and saw two coots swimming: just two. At the end of the boardwalk, I sat on the bench for exactly five minutes as a matter of principle. There were very few walnuts on the ground: do people know they are good to eat, did the squirrels get them, did the ground crew sweep them up?
Also dropped two magazines and two books at the emergency room. I got home just barely ahead of the rain. So I'm glad I went into Owen's without a cart, grabbed a jug of milk, and checked out. Got a register tape nineteen and a half inches long. I put only five and a half inches of it into the envelope.
Web MD thinks I have a cracked rib, and so does Dave. I sure hope Dr. Darr disagrees, because Web MD says that people with cracked ribs have to eschew exercise for eight weeks. If I go eight weeks without exercise, my blood pressure will shoot back to where it was and Dr. Darr will prescribe another pill.
A broken rib would also scuttle my plans to bring frozen duck home in my panniers: it would take until well after the weather turns warm again before I could work my way back up to being able to ride that far, even if I could ride any day that fits my schedule. There have been whole weeks this fall when I didn't even want to walk.
The subtle soreness on the upper side of my neck (the side that was up when the wet leaves slammed me into the boardwalk) isn't so subtle any more. One of the muscles is sore to the touch.
It's amazing how everything is attached to the rib cage.
It's also amazing how strenuous lying on an X-ray table can be; it hurt to walk back to the car. I feel all right now that I'm home and sitting on my own chair — I can get on and off the secretary chair without straining anything, if I stop and think. It isn't natural to scoot back as far as possible before standing up, or to reach *behind* me for support and balance.
Dr. Darr hasn't read the X-rays yet. I didn't see anything on the low-resolution display the tech uses to make sure she has a good shot.
I had no idea there was so much to X-raying the cervical spine; we spent a lot more time on that than on the ribs.
The Beyer building is right across the street from Dr. Darr, so I walked to the X-ray place. Regretted leaving my coat in the car before I was half-way across. And while I was waiting my turn, a woman from Combined Social Services checked to make sure that I had one.
I stopped at Owen's on the way back to pick up HYDROcodone with ACETOMENOPHIN, carrots, and onions. Also got a steak and a potato for supper, and a bottom round to poach in the rice cooker for tomorrow. Possibly with carrots and onions.
I don't think I'll take the HYDROcodone: I don't like acetomenophin. No bad reaction, but I don't feel better.
I think I'll take an aspirin before I lie down for my nap. Should have started doing that much sooner.
Dr. Darr said "good" when he read my blood pressure chart.
That was an *extremely* unsatisfactory sneeze.
Reflexively aborting halfway through made it hurt more.
But at least it didn't disturb any fractures — Dr. Darr couldn't find any bone damage in the X-rays.
Took one aspirin before my nap; just now I took two, figuring that they will kick in about bedtime. Today is the first time I've taken any pain medicine.
I woke up from my nap just at time to serve supper. Zapped the potato and pan-broiled the little steak.
On closer inspection, the bottom round is too nice to boil, so I plan to pan-broil it too. I don't have another potato, but a good third of today's was left over. I might dice it and warm it up by frying it with onions and black pepper.
I should have bought a jug of milk and a bag of salad while I was in Owen's.
Pain in the chest gets really old really fast. And recovery is so slow I sometimes suspect that I'm only getting better at dealing with it.
Didn't notice any help from the aspirin, so I'm going to go back to toughing it out; maybe I'll take one at nap time because it's reputed to help with healing. I've been sleeping better since the injury: tossing and turning are Right Out.
Ever since Double Daylight reverted to plain Central Daylight, I've been waking up for my levothyroxine at five instead of four, even though I've been cutting food off at eleven instead of twelve in anticipation of waking up at three.
I don't see any chance of solving either of the mysteries associated with the crash: How could I do *that* much damage with nothing turning blue, and how come not one speck of the damage is where I hit the boards?
The neck I dig: when you move a head violently to the left, the right side of the neck is going to be stressed. Only one neck muscle is sore now; I expect that to go away in a few days, and I don't notice it unless I poke.
I'm washing clothes today. The grabber I bought to get things off the top shelf in the sewing room has been very handy.
When I decided to wash the shirt I was wearing, it took three tries to get it off.
Just picked up a light pamphlet with my left hand and it hurt — but I can do a deep knee bend, scoop up Al, and stand up with him in my arms and it *doesn't* hurt. And it does hurt if I try to stand up without Al in my arms. ???
But I had Dave put him on the table yesterday, and plan to do so again tonight. I used to lower him when the medication was over with, but Al is perfectly happy to get down on his own. *I* would never jump from such a height, but I weigh more than thirteen pounds.
Terrible news on Stacy Page Online: Carter Lumber is closing. Where do I go the next time I need a sheet of cabinet-grade plywood cut to order?
It looks as though I should start taking my Saturday tour d'Warsaw on Friday: the "pop-up" shops are open Sunday through Friday.
Which would mean that I could have lunch at the Korner Grill. I don't think I'll want to eat there a second time, but I would like to see for myself.
Wash all hung on racks, hangers, and the bathtub's shower-curtain rod. The grabbers were essential to this process.
On the one hand, there's a spot to the left of the bottom of my breastbone that hurts a *lot* when I do things that didn't hurt at all yesterday, and it aches in between; on the other hand, I don't appear to be hurting much elsewhere. And I just managed to cough; could be I'm getting better.
Since it aches, there's a point to taking aspirin before I lie down. Which is going to be Real Soon Now.
I had a pork-heart sandwich for lunch, and it was very good. I had cooked the hearts over very low heat for hours, and have been nibbling at them for snacks for several days. I sliced the smaller of the two chunks of meat as thin as I could, piled it on the bread, covered it with thin slices of onion, covered those with pickled-pepper rings, and spread a thick layer of mayo on the upper slice of bread.
I had a terrible time getting out of bed after my nap, but I think I feel better this afternoon. Perhaps because I took a hot rice bag to bed with me and lay flat on my back for a solid hour. I re-heated it and carried it around for a while after I got up.
I'm enough better that the ballerina trick works for picking things off the floor: keep one leg stiff and use it for a counterbalance as you pivot on the other hip joint.
At nine, I squatted, picked up the cat, stood: small twinge. Then after Dave scrubbed him and gave him his prednisone, I set a dish of treat on the floor: no pain. Then I bragged about it and waved my left hand: OUCH!!
I'm looking forward to finding out how hard it is to get into bed — but I'm not going to make a practice run.
Al is down to one small raw spot, and fur is growing back on half of what was sore. And at latest report, Dave's gout didn't hurt.
But I just scratched and my flu-shot spot is sore. Hmm — just looked, and the sore spot is inches above the mark left by the flu shot. And there's a small red mark, and it's in a spot that was slammed against the boardwalk. I *did* get an external bruise!
Doesn't change the weirdness of all the really-sore tissues being on the side that was up.
While Al and I are getting better, Dave's gout is getting worse. But he already had an appointment with Dr. Darr for Monday, so cutting down on meat is all he's doing. I didn't help any by serving steak two days in a row. By the way, diced leftover potato browned in a no-stickied skillet, then fried up with onions in bacon grease, is GREAT.
Frittered away the morning: now to see how hard it is to get into bed.
Yesterday I noted that it was fifteen minutes early to take my aspirin and glass of milk, then the next time I looked I was half an hour late. So of course I woke up at three on schedule. I stayed in bed until 3:25, and it was half-past by the time I got to the pill. If I recall correctly, getting back into bed was merely awkward.
Today I've got both the time and the energy to take a long walk, but it's gloomy and wet out there. And I have a strange dislike of wet leaves.
The trouble with getting in and out of bed is that it requires a different technique every time.
I should have taken an umbrella and gone for that walk.
I think it was exhaustion that made me sleep well, because I gloomed around all day yesterday and slept lousy last night. After ten before I got up the second time. Lovely day this morning, and I plan to go *somewhere* right after breakfast.
Progress: while I was getting dressed, I almost-sneezed. Didn't blow anything out of my trachea, but it didn't cut off halfway through either. Then I sorta coughed. But it made me sore enough that it hurts to blow my nose.
Comcast was down at two this morning; couldn't download mail, Usenet, or the Web. Didn't try the phone or FTP. I also heard a UPS ping a while before I got up the first time. Mail is working this morning, but Dave says that FTP is down. So his Web sites aren't updating.
After I woke up from my nap, I lay there for a while, wanting to be vertical and dreading the transition, but getting up wasn't bad at all. I think I could climb aboard the bike — but cycling is out of the question as long as a sneeze, cough, or hiccup would make me fall off.
Right after breakfast, I walked for an hour, and got back just in time for lunch. Since I'd breakfasted heavily and late, I had one tamale warmed up in vegetable-cocktail juice.
I walked along King's Highway (which is a lousy place to walk) to the Grace bookstore. They have a snack bar in there; I should have bought a drink, as I was thirsty long before I got home. Thence to see the construction at King's Highway and Seventh Street, which was the object of the expedition. Couldn't see anything except that they'd dug up a lot of dirt. There's a pond around there someplace; I'll have to go again and try to remember where.
Google maps says (after a very long download; I suspect that Comcast isn't quite up to par) that the pond is at the intersection of eighth street and Kings Highway.
I'm picking things up off the floor without a lot of thought. And a deep breath doesn't hurt very much.
When I went to bed last night, I just got in. I suspect that that was because the aspirin I'd taken at eleven was at peak.
I hadn't taken any on the night that I slept lousy, but I also hadn't taken any on some of the nights that I slept well.
It's well after eleven. About time I started my day. I've been fiddling with the Web.
Comcast appears to be working again.
Got a little sewing done. Forgot to go for a walk.
Scrubbed my feet pink in the sink this morning. They haven't had anything better than a rub with a damp rag all week, so I guess it's lucky that I forgot to put on moleskin last Saturday, even though my right corn stung for a step or two after I got back.
I've got pizza-dough mix on the counter, ready to stir up just before my nap. Don't know what meat I'm putting on it yet; we are out of pepperoni, and I think that all our sausage is pre-cooked.
I emptied the half-gallon cannister of hard red wheat and refilled it, and cut off part of the fifty-pound bag I bought twenty-five pounds of flour in, and now I can set a freezer basket over the flour bin. I don't think that it will slide back and forth, though. Perhaps I could cut off the top of the hard white wheat bag and staple it closed. There's a little left in last year's bag of hard white wheat, and I want to use that up before starting the new one.
Pizza every Sunday?
Now it's time to change my shirt and go for a walk. With bright sun and ample clothing, I don't mind the cold wind, but I need someplace to *go*.
Went out in the bike trails and got lost. Was very careful when walking through leaves!
Random chest pains are alarming even when you know what's doing it. Especially the ones right under my breastbone. The bruises aren't interfering with anything now; I can even cough and sneeze.
But I think I set them back a little when I heaved the sacks of flour. Either that or the sneezing and coughing. I've been making up for lost time.
Pizza was pretty good for pure improvisation. I think I'll use red wheat for the crust more often.
Dave did notice that I forgot to salt the dough.
I was fooling around with Google Maps and asked for walking directions from Chicago to Fort Wayne, then ran the mouse down the directions, watching the pointer on the map change. I was well east of Valparaiso before the directions named a road that wasn't a city street!
I knew Chicago slopped over the state line, but I didn't think it slopped that far.
In truth, my feet are a pale brownish orange when they are clean. I was thinking of the times I'd come in with green feet and Mom would send me back outside with a wash basin and orders to come back with pink feet.
Joe and Lois are flying to Florida tomorrow.
The topic of the sermon was <font: mirror>What We Know</font> and the service began with the benediction and ended with the call to worship. Confused, I put my starlight mint in my mouth at the beginning of hymn-singing instead of at the end. But I needed it, perhaps because I'd had an all-carb breakfast. I usually come home with my sugar pill still in my pocket.
Lovely day for a walk. I did a little extra stair climbing before leaving the church because of getting no exercise all last week. Not a tenth as much stair-climbing as I should have done, because people were still using the stairs. I should have gone out last Wednesday and made some vertical loops.
I suppose that Ninth Street helped.
Department of "you are always my baby" — I just read a newsletter quoting a father who put baby monitors behind the garage while his children were teenagers.
When I didn't go walking with Dave, I planned to go up and down every aisle at Owen's when I went for milk and plastic wrap after supper — but it was snowing when I left, so I dashed in, grabbed my groceries, and dashed out again.
And this time, I *didn't* leave my coat in the car!
Two loads of wash and a trivial bit of mending done. I made hamburger soup for supper, and it was pretty good. I had some rice in mine. Earlier, to provide an alternative to bread for snacks, I'd cooked a couple of cups of long-grain brown rice in the broth I'd simmered the pork hearts in, with fresh thyme, fresh oregano, fresh parsley, pickled garlic, and a dash of ham base. Much to my surprise, Dave liked it —even the pickled garlic— but he didn't have any in his soup because he's on prednisone again, and steroids aggravate his diabetes.
It's a short course of treatment, tapering off from the beginning. It's only been a couple of days and his thumb already looks much better.
My blood pressure was down yesterday, but is back up today. Check: long walk yesterday, sit around today. The bruises are vestigial & I feel ready to resume cycling — but the National Weather Service says not until Thursday. It's supposed to be sunny on Wednesday, but I suspect that the streets will have slick spots from snow late in the day on Tuesday.
Snow didn't amount to much. I mean to take my cane when I walk to the fellowship meeting anyway.
I'm dressed all in ninja black. Fortunately, my jacket is glowing yellow. And I'm taking a flashlight for the walk back.
Last Sunday, Dave noticed that the solar light we stuck into the umbrella hole in the patio table for lack of a better place to put it wasn't working. So he brought it in, took it apart. cleaned it, failed to find the loose connection, put it back together, still didn't work, threw it away.
A few hours later, he noticed that his wastebasket was glowing, so it's back out in the patio table on the gazebo pad. It doesn't light consistently.
I didn't get *anything* done today, if you don't count importing bookmarks from the Firefox on XP to the Firefox on 98. (By way of the exported file on PageJoy.) I finally figured out which tag meant "don't import beyond this point", so I used Find and Replace to change all of them to <!-- -->, and got the rest in one take. But I'd got nearly all of them in half-screen snippets by then.
How soon we forget!
While getting my undershirt off the rod of worn-but-not-yet-dirty shirts, I thought for a moment that my wool jersey was missing — oh, it's over there; I must have washed it.
Then when I came back in after combing my hair, I noticed that the daylight from the patio door showed that the black sweat pants laid out to put on after breakfast were visibly dirty. How did that happen?
Oh, yeah, I slid through rotten leaves.
I'm just going to pick up my pills today, 1.6 miles each way. I have a list of stuff we are out of too.
I hope I'm dressed warmly enough. First I had to break ice to water my plants with rainwater, then I had to use a rock to break the ice. If I water them today, I'll first have to find the ice axe. I think it's time to tip over the rain barrels.
Didn't need the ice axe; there is a sharp point on one side of the rock. After several hours in direct sun, the ice was loose around the edges; a couple of sharp blows and it split into two pieces that I could lift out. To my surprise. I had to lift out liner too — there had been a thin layer frozen to the sides of the cans, extending more than half-way down. (I presume that the other trash can is the same.)
It must be warmer than it was before my nap; I went out in indoor clothing, including bare feet, and wasn't uncomfortable. But I did have to run cold water on my hands after lifting out the ice!
I bought the two-ounce beef patties that I mentioned last month, and had two of them on two dinner rolls for lunch. They were delicious!
The last time we washed Al's sore, we had trouble finding it.
I suspect that I lost my Moore Map in the crash; at least I haven't seen it since, and it *was* in the pannier at the time. I keep forgetting to check the magazine aisle when I'm in grocery stores. I did go down that aisle today, but didn't think of looking for maps.
I tipped over one of the rain barrels, and left it up-side down on the grass. Didn't see side-coatings of ice, but it had been in the sun a few more hours than the one I broke into to water the house plants, and the sheath of ice was very thin.
Dave dumped his tomato plant. We have several green tomatoes grouped around the table-napkin plate.
I have to go shopping again tomorrow: we're nearly out of dry cat food, and on our last bag of litter. So that means driving. I hope I can find some black sweat pants while I'm in Big R. Last year's sweats are getting thin spots.
The weather service says that tomorrow and the next day will be sunny and not too cold, and a chance of showers on Saturday. So if I want a substantial ride, now that I've verified that everything works, I have to make the Tour de Warsaw on Friday.
If I come back by way of the boardwalk, I'll get off and walk.
So when do I get a little sewing done?
Forgot to take the magazines for the emergency room; didn't go near the boardwalk.
After buying needles at Lowery's, I reflected that it has been weeks since I saw the construction on Lake Street and they might well be done with it. So I went up Zimmer Road to the roundabout: They *are* finished, and it's lovely riding on brand new pavement. They did install curbs the whole length, but there is also a middle turn lane for the whole length, so I can ride a safe distance from the curb and still leave room for faster vehicles to get around me.
I think that the mess has been cleaned up a bit behind Avila. I didn't peek in through the broken window to see whether the cigarette store was still the way the firemen left it. (The windows of the grocery are boarded up.) Still enough broken-glass sparkle on the parking lot to make me worry about my tires. The tiny crumbs will just have to wear off, I imagine. There is enough traffic to the laundromat (which needed only a good scrubbing and airing after the fire) that most of the crumbs have probably been ground blunt, but seeing the sparkle makes me nervous. (Roads that have mica in their aggregate are also un-nerving.)
I didn't look for "pop-up shops". I don't think any are open yet. Thought about going to the Korner Grill, and went so far as to turn south off of Fort Wayne Street, but didn't feel like it.
I took the Canal Street direct link to Chinatown Express, then had lunch at Penguin point. (Brought a chunk of breast home and didn't have to prepare supper for Dave.) I concluded that it was both quicker and easier to cross Detroit on Fort Wayne street, then ride behind the stores to Chinatown Express.
A lump of bread dough has been in the fridge ever since I made the pizza. I used half the recipe for the pizza and divided the other half into four parts, putting three in the freezer and one in the fridge. I thought it time it was used, so I patted it out as far as I could on the iron griddle I use for a pizza pan, spread a little salsa on it, sprinkled it with chopped onion, and topped it with two slices of mild cheddar.
Baked at 400F for ten minutes, then turned the oven off for another ten. I have re-invented the cracker!
I did check the magazine aisle while in Owen's. I found books, but no maps.
On the mosaic radar, the storm that swept through here yesterday is in Maine. I expected to find it out in the Atlantic.
And for the first time, I notice how irregular Maine's border with Canada is. A bigger map shows that it's three rivers and two straight stretches — but why does it stick out into Canada?
I'm not curious enough to look it up.
I forgot that yesterday was the chili cook-off, and didn't take money with me. That's just as well, because I have no business buying an apple pie. Martha's cheesecake went for eighty dollars, which appeared to impress her. :-)
She bought a chocolate-caramel-peanut-butter cheesecake and gave me a slice. I ate some and took the rest home to Dave. He ate all of it in one session, and it disagreed with him.
We seem to have conservation of cripple in this house. I was just getting so I didn't have to be careful how I moved when Dave's back went out. Every morning he gets out of bed exactly the way I did.
I still hurts when I take a deep breath and think about it — and I generally cough afterward.
The cat is doing fine. He has a dose or two of Prednisone still to take, tapering off, and his fur is back, but not yet full length.
Tried to put my timer in my shoulder pocket, but that shirt is in the wash. Smock pockets aren't a good place for timers; their buttons can get pushed. I should add shirt pockets to my shirts when I downgrade them to slopping around.
Only two loads of wash today. It's dry and partly sunny, but still a bit too breezy to hang stuff out. If it were a good drying day, I'd run a load of turquoise towels.
Schlock Mercenary's assistant chef has just realized "No matter how well I do my job", if the captain doesn't do his job well, she dies. Perhaps someone should mention that a malfunctioning cook can also kill the crew. But since she's just realized that there's a *reason* her chef's coat is bulletproof, I don't think that that will have much effect.
I finished hemming up my silk dress today. Only shortened it an inch, but when I tried it on, I seemed much less likely to step on it.
Removed from the bike shelf and put in the laundry room to be washed and put away for the winter: one sheer linen scarf, one muslin-weight linen scarf, one fuzzy cotton-and-linen scarf. Remaining on the bike: one spun-silk scarf. Time to sort out the wool ones; they'll be needed soon.
I washed my white linen do-rag and put it into the off-season drawer a long time ago.
I'm going to Walmart today just for the rehab. May stop at Aldi for food bars if I'm not too tired on the way back.
Still can't find my mittens, but I haven't taken the printer off the cedar chest yet.
Another scarf in the laundry room: as I was dressing to leave Meijer, I realized that I'd been wearing the spun-silk scarf when I crashed. The spot is hard to find when I'm looking for it, so it's no wonder it took so long to see it accidentally.
Turned right instead of left at the end of Sunset Drive because I wanted to see Panda Express, and thought that I was as likely to find my quart water bottle at Meijer as at Walmart. Meijer had the bottle in several sizes; I also bought a pint. Couldn't find black sweat pants —or any sweat pants— at either Meijer or Big R. I did buy some "fleece lined" pantyhose (i.e., almost thick enough to be opaque) at Meijer.
So I went first to Panda Express, saw cars in the parking lot, saw people working behind the counter, read the open hours, and went to Meijer. An hour or two later, returned for lunch: the fellow behind the counter said it would take him another hour and a half to get ready to serve customers. So I went to the gas station next door and bought a half sub, took a couple of bites, and decided that I'd rather eat my protein bar. ("Protein bar" means puffed rice stuck together with sugar. I guess "carb bars" wouldn't sell as well.) I think the sub will make a satisfactory lunch tomorrow if I toast it and add some lettuce and stuff. [Dave ate half of it cold, with lots of mayo.]
I forgot to take my slippers; perhaps I should stash them in my tool-kit bag with my red hat and spare handkerchiefs. I was wearing thicker socks, and I don't think the floor was as cold, so I was nearly ready to check out before my feet started to hurt.
Nibbled the bit of sub still in the fridge: not as bad now that the bread has gotten soggy.
As I was getting up from the sewing machine after finishing my new T-shirt, the timer in my pocket went off and the toaster oven in the kitchen dinged. Beautiful timing! I went into the kitchen with my mouth all set for hot left-over pizza (with a bite of warm lasagna on it) — and discovered that I hadn't plugged in the toaster.
So I plugged it in, re-set it, and wrote an entry for my sewing blog. Lasagna makes a very good topping for left-over pizza, by the way.
Dave just repaired MIA, our first GPS, by installing a new battery. It's charged now, but when I last heard, it hadn't gotten a fix. Dave says that new models contact ground stations to get a heads-up on where to look for the satellites.
Comcast has been trying to get out of the PWP (Personal Web Page) business for years, and finally they made it official that they aren't taking any new customers. Already-existing sites are grandfathered, but they do annoying little things such as refusing to tell you what percentage of your one-gigabyte allotment you are using.
I goofed today: Dave asked for Comcast's PWP URL, and I clicked it to make sure it worked before e-mailing it to him, and while I was on the site, I poked around a little. Eventually I clicked on "view my site" and got a blank page. Looked, and the word "site" had been tacked onto my URL; corrected the URL, it changed it back and showed me the blank page again. After a while I gave up and closed the browser.
A while later Dave said that the link to my pages on his page was broken. Poked around; only the entrance page didn't work. We couldn't find anything wrong with the link, and it behaved exactly like the defective link on Comcast's PWP page: changed the URL to the same defective URL. So I figured that once I'd called Comcast's attention to my continued use of what we've paid for, they had somehow spoiled it. But how could they make links not work?
Eventually I discovered that they'd used a very simple and elegant method: before showing me the page, they had overwritten it with an empty file. So I re-uploaded index.html and all was well.
But we are looking for a back-up Web server.
I took the printer off the cedar chest today. No mittens. I may have to knit a new pair.
Still no mittens, but I've found the wool slipper socks that I wanted to stash in my bicycle kit.
Two loads of wash. I could have hung the sheet outside, but I didn't. Walked to Ninth Street and back after my nap.
Weather bureau said today would be my only day for exercise this week, but I didn't feel like going for a long ride, so I went to Owen's and Aldi for groceries. I went from Owen's to Aldi by way of Anchorage Road.
So there *is* a good way to get from Owen's to Aldi without going home and starting over — if you aren't in any hurry. Google Maps says I rode 13.3 miles.
Dropped my last book off at the emergency room, so I'm going to have to sort out and bookmark some more.
Somewhere along Anchorage, I realized that if I want to make devilled eggs tomorrow, I have to buy eggs today.
My mystery-fiber gloves were quite enough — until I left Aldi's. My mock-leather cycling gloves got chilled while I was packing my purchases, and my hands never did warm up even though there's a bit of climbing on Wooster Road.
I bought a back-up pair of gloves at Owen's for $4.99. Again, the only yellow gloves had "touch screen" fingertips, but gray instead of black so they don't look quite as bad as my old gloves.
Just put a new page into the cookbook: http://joybeeson.home.comcast.net//COOKBOOK/index.html . Look under "salads".
It's a beautiful day out there, but I need exercise so bad that I seriously don't want it.
I just got rid of my food processor, and now all of a sudden I want to make slaw. But I got rid of it because it would have been very tedious to shred a whole head of cabbage with it, and it wouldn't have done a very good job.
I should ride over to Indiana Restaurant Supply and see whether they have a slaw cutter. I used to have a hand tool that would make short work of a head of cabbage, but I wore it out more than ten years ago and don't remember where I bought it or what it was called.
I did take a walk after my nap. I went to see the Cerulean construction, and no progress had been made since the last time, which was no surprise on a holiday weekend when they have until May to finish the job. Another stretch of sidewalk was poured a while back, connecting the new walk to the one that was sawed off.
When I first saw the new concrete where the road used to be, I wondered how they had made such a convincing imitation of split stone out of poured concrete. Indeed, I peered at the edge exposed where they appear to intend to plant something to make sure that it *was* concrete. That puzzle hasn't been solved, but later on I noticed that the new concrete matches and continues the floor of the outdoor restaurant. It took a while to notice, because the old floor is so faded and worn that there isn't a moment of doubt that it's concrete, and I was surprised to notice that it's intended to look like stone.
We still have some green tomatoes from Dave's plant, and ate a couple of ripe ones with our supper tonight. Which was warmed-over wings. There are still two left. We're pretty sure that they gave him more than the sixteen that he paid for.
I'm still using rain water to water my houseplants: dumping the rain barrel left lots of chunks of ice on the lawn.