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I used to feel good buying cookies each winter from the Girl Scouts, though I often wrote humorously of the Green Dress Cookie Mafia. I feel bad in disappointing the individual girls, but GSA is now a political organization supporting reprehensible causes that I loathe. I shan’t be ordering from the perky little cookie sellers. It is a sad day when the zealots can’t leave the children’s organizations alone.
Senility and dyslexia is a brutal combination. Please be gentle when you judge my posts.
A light winters mist surrounds the trees in the distance. The damp from a gray lit window tries to chill me through, but I push it off with sips of hot coffee from the mug clasped in my sleep swollen hands. A treasured guest from the auld sod drove down to visit a spell, but they haven’t woken yet, so other than an occasional gleeful yap from one of the mutts and happy clicks, buzzes and burbles from the budgie, the house is hushed.
My sous vide salmon was a disaster. Not sure what I did wrong. I should have broiled it like a proper salmon instead. But live and learn goes the cliché.
Other than comments pro and con of a rather insulting Gillette razor ad, the news is muted this morning. I expected videos of Federal employees standing in soup lines and selling the children’s Christmas presents this morning, but there was little to be said. I suspect the Democrats sun filled soiree in Puerto Rico was a little too off putting for the media to cover, so we get … fluff. But I’ll take that. Fluff is a product the American media is skilled at. As left-wing partisans, they kinda suck.
So the family rouses …
And waffle day rolls around again with temps in the high 30’s but feeling like it is freezing. But now that I am acclimated to this feral land, anything below 70° is freezing weather. Snook is feeling much better today and says her body is working normally. I guess that is why we say ‘see a doctor’. She saw a doctor and immediately felt much better. Saint Peter has nothing on doctors. His shadow had to fall on people for them to heal.
I think that is often the case with me. The time to see a doctor is at the onset of symptoms, but my first thought is to wait a week to see if the malady improves. And often by then it has, at the cost of days of misery.
My annual check the caboose day is looming in February. It is never a fun experience. Both doctors and men long for the medical breakthrough that eliminates the digital ‘walnut’ exam. I don’t get much sympathy from Snooks on that one. She says I know nothing of the indignity of a pelvic exam. Maybe she’s right, but I don’t think I’ll submit to one just to say I know.
This Sunday morning is a day of normalcy in the household. Thinking of a friend in recovery from heart bypass surgery. The first time is really the pits. Not that the second one was a walk in the park for me either, but at least I remembered the out of control emotions, irrational fear that my chest would explode if I coughed, fear that I wouldn’t have the energy to get back home from a walk.
And another friend who just moved into assisted living. She kept her home for well over a century, then suddenly had to give away many of her possessions because they wouldn’t fit in the apartment. It is not an easy thing to do.
The sun rises another 15° in the cloudy sky, the second cup of coffee is safely tucked inside, it is time to put this up on the website and do my Sunday chores.
Tuesday. Not much to be said for this day. But I haven’t posted anything in a while, so I’ll set in front of a blank page and put down my usual stream-of-consciousness meanderings. Tiw, the one-handed god of the day apparently stuck his hand in the mouth of a wolf and lost it. That is a rather stupid thing for a god to do, so a minor day of the week is his reward.
Talk radio entertains me and the bird this day. Budgies thrive on noise and battle, but people probably shouldn’t. So now I am caught up on the political hate for the week. I feel so .. informed. It is easy to see a persons political affiliations by their use of memes and narratives, and just as easy to ignore the words that follow them. I am more curious to see who wins the pissing contest than I am whether the wall gets built or not. As a nation, I believe that we passed the point of no return a long time ago, and the natural course is a downward spiral. The best we can do is slow the inexorable helix to destruction. It will come.
So with those cheery predictions, I wander on.
The weather has been warm for the last few days, and the air-conditioner has come on in the afternoons, but that trend will likely end for a week or so. But spring here can’t be afar off. It is already time to start tomatoes indoors. If I was going to start tomatoes. I really haven’t had much luck with them.
The day has marched on, the coffee cup is empty and so is the pot. And it is time to stop the blather.
Still 44° as I slowly awaken to Preparation Day. But later in the day, it will warm to the mid 60’s for a week, then the winter rains return, albeit somewhat warmer than the December ones were. I am sure glad to see the sun. It has been awhile.
The public holidays are done, thankfully. No Christmas music, cute Santa’s peddling merchandise, midnight fireworks or frazzled shoppers for awhile as sanity returns. Just the slow rotation of seasons and the ever-growing patches of weeds and wildflowers out my window. It will be a month or two before the wildflowers pop, though.
I got all the fixin’s for a winters beef stew. I try to get the cheapest stew meat available, brown it really good, the pressure cook the snot out of it until it almost falls apart. And a turnip, some red spuds, carrot strips and peas. I normally cook the spuds separately and add them to the stew before serving so they don’t get so mushy. I’ll probably start that Sunday … but a good stew improves with age, so I’ll make enough for five or six meals, and freeze it in servings to be gently rewarmed in the slow cooker. And yeah, I cheat a little with some cornstarch to give it a body. Served with hunks of sourdough and I am happy …
That is about all there is to say here in my dull retirement paradise. I never thought that I could appreciate dull to the extent that I do. Excitement is the enemy of serenity …
And coffee is the friend of slow risers …