Wed Feb 20th, 2019
|08:40 pm - Oh this winter, this winter|
Went out every day of my three day weekend and really wished I could have stayed in. Weather wasn't bad but knees ached anyway, and Monday's acupuncture didn't help them at all.
Followed then two early mornings, and my scheme of double dosing myself the night before may have made me feel happy but didn't get me to sleep any earlier or make a 7 a.m. rising any easier. And because of a communication mixup (between two other people, not me) today's early shift needn't have happened at all.
So I have tomorrow off, and it's freezing rain out there, so tell me why I booked a noon acupuncture session? Hope, I suppose.
Reading-wise, I finished only Deep Secret which I didn't like nearly as much as the sequel, and Tales from Moominvalley which tells me that I am a Fillyjonk. Haven't decided what to read next, but path of least resistance Pratchett or Dick Francis both look likely.
Sat Feb 16th, 2019
|08:39 pm - If all the year were playing holidays|
Started yawning at 9 something last night. Aw c'mon, I'm not going to sleep before ten on a night when I've had a Pepsi, surely? Did. And woke up after nearly twelve hours of sweet sweet sleep.
Had appointment at Spadina and Bloor. Dropped into the super there to see if they had Ovaltine. They didn't. But, thought I, it's a nice sunny day at last and the Bloor sidewalks are clear, I could surely walk to that little conveni past Bathurst that sometimes does, and get the subway from there? Did, and scored my Ovaltine at last. Then thought, keep on walking and you can deposit your pay cheque finally. Did, and then walked on to the Christie subway station, where the next bus was due in twenty minutes. Bref, I ended up walking home. And yes my back hurt, and my knee as well because this is an achy week, but hey, exercise. And my physio is of the opinion that my piriformis pain isn't, that it's a reaction to weakness somewhere else entirely. Which would certainly explain why eighteen months of stretching has failed to get rid of it.
The side street sidewalks are an icy messy mess still. I walked from Christie to my street singing a very rude song about the Baptists and their lack of Christian consideration, but now feel better after a hot bath and muscle relaxants. Oh for money and freedom, to lounge about on sofas and revel in hot water and sleep as much as one wants. Yes of course I'd tire of it in short order but it's very nice for the three days of this grateful long weekend.
Fri Feb 15th, 2019
|08:33 pm - Grump|
I'm all for amber alerts and so on, but why am I, a Canadian, getting President's alerts at quarter to midnight for an ongoing abduction in Ontario? We don't have a president, thank god. And though it was thanks to the alert that the man was found and arrested, I still don't care to have my sleep broken by situations I'm in no position to help with, being as I'm like, yanno, in BED and ASLEEP before my 6:30 rising for an early shift. Was a useless zombie all day in consequence.
Clearly must buy an alarm clock instead of using my phone.
Meanwhile the temperatures have dropped and all the slushy ice has turned to knobbly ice and the snow melt from above freezing temps has turned to glare ice, and I am not happy about this st all.
Thu Feb 14th, 2019
|07:56 pm - Not doing that again|
My acupuncture studio is on two famously non-existent lines, the Dufferin bus that goes up to the Bloor subway, and the Dundas streetcar that will eventually take you to a stop on the useless University line. But before that it hooks up with the Spadina light rail that lands me a block from work. Recent improvements in transit mean that these ghost lines are now very frequent, especially the quondam streetcar that's been replaced by a bus while they tear tracks up by the AGO. Today there were three Dundas cars coming my way, so I got on the first (fool) which steadily became more packed and moved glacially along the crowded length of Dundas itself. Traffic picked up after Bathurst but of course slowed down again close to Spadina, which is the unmoving heart of Chinatown, where pedestrians rule OK (safety in numbers which freak out people from smaller cities like Rochester.) So, an interesting experiment but one not to be repeated.
That means Dufferin bus, which is less frequent andlands you on the wrong side of the street if you want to use the elevators and avoid stairs down and stairs up and more stairs down and and and,which I do. Must remind myself that *some* day I'll be able to bicycle again. But oh, I wish these guys would open on weekends, and can't for the lifeof me think why they don't.
Wed Feb 13th, 2019
|08:12 pm - Misery misery misery me|
The snow that was supposed to fall last night to cover up yesterday afternoon and evening's freezing rain didn't fall. Instead it kept on freezing rain overnight, so this morning at Horrible O'clock I came out to two inches of sheer ice on the steps I'd salted before going to bed. At least the base layer of salt let me remove enough ice to get down the stairs and do my poor best for the sidewalk.
Then temps rose midday and turned the combined snow and sleet of yesterday into great tidal pools at all corners, and my waterproof Warm Toes boots became damp inside. Have desalted them tonight and shall dubbin them tomorrow, since Camp Dry waterproofing clearly doesn't work. And it's supposed to rain on Friday.
At least this is a long weekend.
Also making me happy is the discovery that cooking sausages in the oven in my iron frypan a) cooks them through, which I'm never sure of when cooking them on the stovetop and b) doesn't splash grease all over everything, as always happens when cooking them on the stovetop. Had bangers and mash for dinner yesterday and it was exactly what I wanted on a nasty winter day. Doubtless weighs in at far too many calories: but maybe not if I keep shovelling snow and chopping ice.
( Wensleydale memeCollapse )
Mon Feb 11th, 2019
|09:44 pm - Under threat|
Winter storm is barreling down our way- snow, freezing rain, ice pellets- basically the last two storms combined. In theory I needn't be anywhere tomorrow since they again postponed our first aid seminar, thank god, and I'm stocked up on staples and extras though I'd really like more Ovaltine for sipping cozily in bed. So I may spend the day shovelling and reading ebooks on my tablet. It's Wednesday's early shift that has me worried, but oh well. Must learn to let the day's evil be sufficient unto itself, and take no thought for the day after tomorrow.
Sun Feb 10th, 2019
|07:57 pm - Gives up|
Winter Brane will not parse anything new: well, is unwilling to parse anything new- so I'm now re-re-reading The Merlin Conspiracy and enjoying it immensely. Because almost all Diana Wynne-Jones' works are imbued with a kind of Don't-See-Me spell, which makes the memory slide off them, I might as well have never read the work before. I vaguely remembered the King's processions, and when I came to it the flower classification as well, but Roddy's grandfather? Nope. Romanov? Nope. *Anything* to do with Nick? Nope. The elephant? You'd think I might at least have remembered the elephant. But nope nope nope.
I suppose this is a plus in an author. But Merlin isn't even one of the twisty ones, like Hexwood or Fire and Hemlock; those guys you don't know what you're reading even as you read.
Meanwhile I walked the bike over bumpy ice to my cafe, and bought more salt for work against Tuesday's promised freezing rain. This year is a replay of 2005 when it isn't replaying 2008, and as in both those, one simply hangs in until it's over.
Fri Feb 8th, 2019
|09:10 pm - The world continues arghity, hope you are well|
*So* not a morning person me had an 8:30 shift this morning, meaning a 6:30 wake-up in order to do exercises, get breakfast, hobble to the station over the possibly ice-encrusted sidewalks, and if needed catch a cab early enough to avoid those tiresome TTC delays that happen in 'inclement weather.' Hoping to do an end run around my sleep disorder I double dosed me with muscle relaxants last night and was in bed, yawning, before 10. Which meant, naturally, awake at 5. Happily awake, and knowing that if I went back for another ninety minutes I'd be sleep-sodden, up I got.
Thus I was at the station by 7:15, or rather in Tim Horton's with a double-double and a red velvet cupcake. Tim's at that hour is very nearly empty: when the street belongs to the cop (ha!) and the janitor with his mop, and the grocery clerks are in fact already setting out produce in the supermarkets up the street. But by then I was tired again and the 70 kmh wind gusts were beginning. So I believe I took a cab, though I have no memory of doing so, and wound up at work before the centre was open. And left it at 5:45 pm, which made for a remarkably long day. And alas, I get to do it again twice next week, once after a predicted snowfall of 4" or possibly freezing rain, and once during it. I am so done with this winter, I cannot tell you.
But tromping about on snow grippers does make for a completely different emotional world from tooling about on the bike. Some of the Canadian ganbaru spirit seeps back when there are no other options. This will vanish with the next thaw, but meanwhile I am walking again- the ache and stab just an accepted part of things- and shovelling snow and chopping ice, as I did at work yesterday on my putative day off. Because, of course, otherwise I'd have had to negotiate an ice field today, and chopping myself into exhaustion was better than that.
Wed Feb 6th, 2019
|06:11 pm - A Turnip for the Books|
Was home late last night because of deadly boring CPR refresher seminar, during which I had both a coffee and a Coke. So took an ativan to guard against wakefulness till 6 a.m. and slept blissfully till 10. Padded to the front bedroom to do exercises and retrieve cell phone, which promptly rang shrilly. Staff asking 'where are you?' as she'd also messaged me (twice) and left a voicemail. Seems I had an 8:30 shift that I'd totally failed to notice on the schedule, probably because if I see a name starting with J in the morning section I assume it's Jessica. 'Don't hurry in, we only have seven kids, there's only an hour left anyway and we have the student.' She was much more concerned that I wasn't lying unconscious on the road having slipped on the ice pellets that had accumulated overnight. 'You may not have to come in for the afternoon shift either, call before you start out...' 'Yes, but we still have the First Aid seminar, right?' 'Oh yeah. Right.'
So I shovelled white stuff off the sidewalk and salted it and walked down to the subway because the Christie bus can't be counted on in a storm. The Spadina streetcar also failed to materialize so I walked the three blocks to work. (And am resigned now that I can't cross Bloor on my own steam in the winter. I simply can't go fast enough for the light. This is the second time I've sought the aid of a sturdy young(er) man's arm to lean on, and still barely made it to the other side before the amber. Twenty-five seconds from curb to curb is just not long enough, guys.)
Turns out that the early co-ordinator also failed to appear, thinking she'd hired a replacement for today when it was for next week. I will say the toddler staff were very forebearing in the face of this double dereliction, since they had to take in the orphaned infants who arrived before nine. The orphaned infants of course were *delighted* to be taken in by the toddlers and didn't want to leave.
But meanwhile we had more freezing rain warnings for the rush hour period, so first our First Aid outfit called asking to cancel, and then- wonder of wonders- the St George campus decided to close early, at 3 p.m. So parents came to get their kids and I came home early. And, exerciseless all day and unmedicated for much of it, hurt like a mofo.
Tomorrow I'm off. But conscience suggests I come in anyway and help out on Horrible Thursday, when we have no students and the messiest snack of the week.
( WednesdayCollapse )
Tue Feb 5th, 2019
|10:39 pm - Modified dread|
Have been through three days of erranding in the mild weather (12C yesterday), stockpiling toilet paper and road salt and meds and soy milk, and returning library books at last and picking up RoL comics from Bakka and Beguiling, all in the vain hope that the ritual of preparing for major sleet and freezing rain will cause it not to happen as badly as they say it will. One can hope. The chiz of it is that we have a first aid seminar tomorrow night, when the freezing drizzle is supposed to be at its worst, and my unlimber legs are not looking forward to getting home even with ice grippers on. But it will be as it will, and in theory I have Thursday off.
Don't care for the new art style of Action at a Distance. The old Nightingale looked just fine to me.
Yesterday looked out front bedroom window where the snow had melted off the porch roof, to see three shingles caught in the eavestrough. They're not from the porch roof but from the sloped roof over the front bedroom. Last reshingled in 2003 and so lasting a scant fifteen years. Anyway, that's this year's foreseen major money drain; I hope there are no unforeseen ones, though if I do have my knees replaced there'll be the considerable cost of a rehab place. If. I'm still hearing nothing good about the procedure.
Sun Feb 3rd, 2019
|09:25 pm - The way she used to feel?|
In this phase of what an inspired someone called our 'bipolar vortex,' the streets are full of melting brown slush and the sidewalks are, well, ditto, from people scrambling over the crumbling snow banks or never having shovelled their sidewalks in the first place. But yesterday I hacked a few icefloes from various patches up & down the street, though nothing like in the old days, then flailed and scrambled my way to my old coffee shop for a much missed latte. There's a new coffee place much closer, but their lattes are too strong and they don't have white sugar, while their scones are both calorific and to die for. Thus best avoided.
Today the temps were even higher, and when I went out with my ice chopper I discovered that the Baptists, a bit late in the day, had carved a path through the bumpy snow that has blocked half the street for the last week. So I turned around, fetched my bike, and walked it to Fiesta for abag of salt against next week's promised freezing rain. Not for me: I have half a bag of salt still ('doesn't harm grass or concrete' or, alas, ice itself much, but next door has the heavy duty stuff as well.) No, this is for work, because my nemesis used the bag and a half the uni gave us to rid her section's playground of its ice *before* the last storm, leaving none for the front and back steps where she doesn't go. Whenever I ask the uni for more, I'm cautioned that it's very concentrated and to use it sparingly. This time I didn't have the face to ask for another bag five days after they gave us a full one. Someone else has purportedly called instead, but the uni has pointedly ignored the request. So I shall cab this in tomorrow (have been cabbing this winter as if money grew on trees) and hide it in a very good place indeed. Probably our section's stroller shed, which requires a key to get in.
So a load off my mind and a sense of accomplishment. Otherwise have only the usual dishes and laundry to show for the weekend, but I *did* flip the mattress and under mattress, and changed the sheet, which for me and my elbows counts as a major task finished.
Fri Feb 1st, 2019
|09:42 pm - Bye bye January|
Lord, that was a month. And by month, I mean 'less than a week.' Though to be fair, it's been cold and snow since mid-month, but last week outdid them all.
However, Moominland Midwinter was indeed the quintessence of this last January, and so in its way was Moominvalley in November. Now that I'm reading Moominpappa at Sea, I realize the reason I liked those other two books so much was largely the absence of Moomins, and specifically of Moominpappa.
Tue Jan 29th, 2019
|08:39 pm - I slept last night in a good hotel|
ie my front bedroom for the first time in five months. Maybe I was tired of my musty flannel burrow? Pulled out what I thought was my feather duvet from the closet, but it was the queen size summer one, polyester inside what feels like a paper cover. The one I keep thinking I should give away, with its cotton cover, because I never use it. But it worked a treat last night, warm and light and large. I woke to the smell of beef stew, because I'd made some in the crockpot overnight. Which is not yer average morning smell, like bacon or toast or coffee, but will do. And on parting the curtains discovered that a blessed Someone had shovelled the five inches or so that fell last night after I'd shovelled the six inches from yesterday. Blessed blessed Someone: not only my sidewalk but the walkway as well. And they'd been busy up and down the street so that most places were passable. (Not Mr Monster-house-wannabe, of course, sniff.)
After that it was the usual horrible aftermath of snowdump and snowplows: sliding mountains at all street corners with crumbling narrow footpaths made over them by the young intrepid types. Slipped on one of these trying to get to the streetcar after work, even in grippers with my staff, but a nice young woman gave me a firm hand over the crest and a nice young man offered to help me cross. Age has its perks, though I'd prefer to still have bendy knees that could deal on their own. As my sister said, "I know it’s been worse weather, but I was in better shape to handle it." Am a bit kerblonxed that the last time we had worse weather (or at any rate, just as bad) was a mere/ whole five years ago, when I clomped around on ice grippers for three months and my back didn't hurt me at all.
However, after two months of doing knee exercises which AFAICS do nothing to strengthen my knees- certainly, there are days I can't even get up from the couch- I notice odd new dips and bulges that make my knee look almost like other people's, which must be muscle definition. This from merely pressing down and straightening seems odd, but I suppose there's a reason everyone gives you those same exercises to do. The last time I had a knee strengthening regime, nearly forty years ago in preparation for bike touring, it involved lifting weights with my ankles. Those were the days...
Mon Jan 28th, 2019
|08:23 pm - Snow|
The university cancelled its evening classes but "the campus remains open." I am not sanguine about cancellation tomorrow but oh it would be nice. (To explain: since we're kind of affiliated with UofT in the 'red haired stepchild' fashion, when they close, we close.) Ten inches of blowing snow makes for some treacherous and occasionally impossible walking.
Meanwhile my s-i-l is telling FB how cozy it is to sit inside and watch snow fall. Uh yeah. You can also watch people fall as they wade through the stuff. Am not sorry I decided not to shovel their walkway after doing their sidewalk, and that after clearing the back walkway at work. I am an old cranky woman and my elbows hurt and my back hurts and my knees hurt. Pfui.
Sun Jan 27th, 2019
|08:01 pm - My fascinating life|
Woke early, did half an hour of stretches and exercise for intractable piriformis, had breakfast, cruised net, threw on clothes and swept/ shovelled accumulated six inches of dry snow. Came in, had cocoa, went up to do second set of exercises on bed in cold sunny front bedroom, turned over on side and fell asleep for two hours and change. Flannel covered pillows will do it to you.
Then did seasonal reading ie Moominvalley Midwinter. Also embroidered, and badly, over bleach stains on black work shirt. Am now ready for shower and bed. Must assume from unmoving aches and sneezes (but no other symptoms) that I'm trying to come down with something, which I hope to avoid.
Sat Jan 26th, 2019
|06:15 pm - Under siege|
Snow and ice and people who don't salt their sidewalks make travel difficult in these latter twingey days. But I noticed on my can rides to work that the Bloor sidewalks were now clear, so figured I could walk the bike down Christie to Bloor and thereby get some necessary erranding done, like returning the pile of heavy library books and stocking up on quantities of muscle relaxants. The knees are no more unhappy than usual but the lower back is killing me. And then once I'd walked to the end of my block, the streets were clear enough to actually bicycle on, so my mission was accomplished in record time.
Now I have to somehow get to College and Spadina where the ousted comic shop Beguiling has my copies of the new RoL comics. And it's supposed to snow for the next three days.
However! one reason the piriformis hurts is that a week ago I lost my useful tennis ball for rolling on muscle knots with. Couldn't find it anywhere. Until yesterday when it turned up, where else, in my bed. It's not like my bed is a king or even a queen. It's a double, not really wide enough for two people, but wide enough for me to sleep with tennis balls and books and pens and not know they're there.
Wed Jan 23rd, 2019
|08:50 pm - Plodding towards February|
After yesterday's extreme cold warning, when I was easily able to cab it from the subway station to work, we had two inches of winter slop followed by sloppy rain, and not a cab to be seen. So I chanced the subway, and stood while three trains went past crammed to the doors. At last one came along that had room to fit myself in, and so two stations later I got to Spadina. Where, for a wonder, the lineup for the streetcar did not go three times around itself and back down the stairs. There was no lineup at all. So you win some and lose some: but I was told by those who transit regularly to avoid 9 o'clock trains if at all possible. (Doesn't help that the n-s line is still experiencing quarter hour delays because of faulty signals, reacting to both the cold and the slop. Lord knows what ails the e-w, because they were coming every two minutes at that point, which is clearly still not enough.)
And then I got on a crowded 5:45 Spadina car up to the station, to find the platform black with bodies again. But this time there was a police presence. (The police walk through crowds single file, with a hand on the shoulder of the cop in front of them. Works.) Cop came back telling us to stand away from the elevator, and was followed by medics with an older white guy on a gurney, head bandaged and blood down his face, evidently the victim of a fall; and a short Indian woman who appeared distressed but had no obvious injuries. They whisked away; cops and medics blocked the platform still talking about who knows what. Three trains passed, backed to the doors, but I was moving down the platform away from the stairs and escalators. The third train was, by Tokyo standards, only a bit full, so I said 'Room for one more?' to the guys by the door, and stepped on, no problem. And got off at the next stop so I could have sushi and vodka Sprite. I wish the eateries near work weren't all pubs with beer and wine; I mean, they may have vodka too, but it's served with pub food, boo hiss.
Tomorrow I don't have to be up till 9:30, thank god, though they're still calling for more snow after today's rain cleaned the streets off. The sidewalks are all icy patches because of people, like me, who didn't shovel the slop this morning.
( MemeCollapse )
Sat Jan 19th, 2019
|09:29 pm - The ways deep and the weather sharp|
When the universe tells you not to go outside by, variously, snowing, env.can warnings of frostbite, and howling winds up to 60 km; and your body does the same, by sleeping from midnight to noon and interrupting the day with a nap from 5 to 7, well, you stay indoors. Doing nothing, actually, aside from desultory reading, desultory crosswords, and desultory net surfing. Diem perdidi, but some days are made to be lost.
Colder tomorrow when I must go out, but the sun will shine. And as my workplace has indeed implemented the minimum wage increase DoFo cancelled, plus some more, I might even cab it, if cabs are to be found.
Fri Jan 18th, 2019
Well, my sister at least has a room now, but is maddeningly uninformative as to why they're keeping her in it. Operation? No operation? Possibly the doctors are also maddeningly uninformative, which would sort very well with all I've heard of Sunnybrook Hospital.
The cardiac testing thing got sorted out, as in 'not happening until my doctor puts in another request and this time asks for bicycles and not treadmills,' because trust me, I do not do treadmills, but the hospital won't take my word for it. So several more weeks, doubtless; the short notice Monday appt must have been a cancellation.
Now I need only worry as to why my phone charger keeps crapping out on me. Cannot go get another because tomorrow will be snow, high winds, and a wind chill of -23. Albertans would laugh at that, but I am an ancient frail woman with an incipient head cold, and I ain't going anywhere tomorrow.
However, incandescens, your books arrived, so I have something thick to read as I hibernate. Thank you very much.
Thu Jan 17th, 2019
|08:43 pm - Malign astrological configuration continues, hope you are well|
Sister is back in hospital, in IC on a gurney because there are no beds, with a gall bladder they want to take out when they can get around to it. She was actually in hospital for low blood pressure, cause unknown, but now it's back to normal you think they might let her go home. Oh but maybe they'll get around to surgery tonight, or tomorrow, or, well, whenever... Am not at all impressed with sister's hospital of choice.
Meanwhile voice message from my doctor saying my own hospital has scheduled my five hour stress test this Monday which sorry, cannot do. Doctor didn't leave me a number for the hospital and isn't in her office tomorrow. Am annoyed. Will prob have to show up at the hospital Monday morning to tell them I can't do the whole thing- and then I have to be up early the next two days as well, which leads to sleep lack headaches. Argh, just argh.
Wed Jan 16th, 2019
|09:13 pm - No vanity, but much vexation of spirit|
International issues aside, was woken from my scratchy achey head cold half-sleep by someone wanting me to be her in half an hour. Pulled clothes on, called a cab, munched slice of toast while sweeping away snow outside. Phone pings, cab co has a 'trace you drive' app, driver is just coming up Christie from Bloor, should be here in two minutes. No cab appears. Now I assume these guys have whatever it's called to tell them how to navigate my traffic maze, but maybe not and maybe he turned down instead of up. I call the company again to be told my driver has picked up his fare. Well, he certainly didn't do it on my block. So they send another cab who arrived eventually. Last night's 'snow' is more like little ice pellets and the roads are very slippery and, bref, what would be a 15 minute bike ride on clear streets takes half an hour.
But I arrived, sans exercises, and in consequence ached all day. Work *really* has to stop relying on old crocks like me and the worker who called me today whose back has gone out from too much hefting of lumpen toddlers.
( Catchup memeageCollapse )
Mon Jan 14th, 2019
|09:09 am - Trials of civilization|
One of the unexpected side effects of sleeping in the guest bedroom is having to wash the bedding every other week or so. In the front room with its dormer windows that face south west and north, I go to bed fully clothed, so very little of me touches the sheets and pillowcases. In the warmer sideroom, a nightshirt is enough, and sometimes to much, as I wake up sweaty in my flannel nest. Hence laundry. And, in the case of the duvet cover, laundromat, because my ancient machines won't handle the weight.
This is why I really wanted another duvet cover.
Sun Jan 13th, 2019
|11:26 am - More misc.|
1. Ran into my brother on the way to work Friday (yes, we live next door to each other but it Doesn't Work Like That) who asked what I wanted for my birthday. I answered honestly: what I really want is my s-i-l's meatloaf and one of her pies. So that's what I had for dinner last night, along with mashed potatoes which I love and she doesn't.
And she sent me home with the remnants of the pie so I got to have pie for breakfast. Yum.
2. Finished The Purgatorio, finally, though the last cantos with Boring Beatrice nagging Dante for missing Vergil were a tough slog.
3. Massage studio last weekend happened to have a foam roller for sale, so I bought it and have been doing my quad strengthening exercises with it. Massage therapist this week reports my quads being very tense. I don't think it's supposed to work that way. Theoretically I could use the roller to stretch my quads, but it's a 6" diameter, which is too high for me to comfortably rest on my arms with. Online ads never give you the diameter of these things, just the length, so I'm left thinking 6" is standard, alas. Shall have recourse to my tennis ball instead.
4. It's -7C out there, all vegetation is dead, and my ears and throat are having allergy itches, which is both puzzling and annoying.
Tue Jan 8th, 2019
|01:18 pm - Gratitudes?|
1. Exercises seem to be working. Physio is pleased. Of course, it helps to do them as many reps as recommended, which is about twice what I want to do.
2. It didn't snow yesterday and there was no freezing rain.
3. Futures restaurant no longer has daily specials like meatloaf, so I shall have to make my own. But it does have excellent sausages, which is good because I can't cook sausages at all.
4. My doctor's genuwine medical scale has me at three pounds lighter than my own, even with my clothes on.
Sat Jan 5th, 2019
|07:19 pm - Miscellaneous|
1. I didn't drink for eight or nine days after Christmas, mostly because the Christmas drinking upset my innards. Then I went back to work, and by the end of the second day it was 'ohh everything hurts ohh tylenol doesn't work ohh I need a glass of wine.' So I had a glass of wine. And my insides take great exception to it. This is going to make life interesting for the next few snowy months- though to be fair, I was aching already even before I started plowing home in the slush. Maybe I need to focus on posture more at work. And breathing, says my physio.
2. On the up side, physio says bicycling has kept my knee flexion better than expected, though of course it doesn't feel like it. Must also remember to flex knees periodically at work, because they stiffen up with all the standing I do.
3. Another one bites the dust. Ten Editions, the used bookstore at Spadina and Sussex, had a line-up in front of it last weekend and people carrying boxes out to vans. Friendly type in line said they were closing and giving their books away. University has bought the building and will turn it into student residences. Ten Editions was an archetypal bookstore: long and cavernous, floor to ceiling books, with ladders that moved along rails to get to the top reaches. Full of treasures if you were in the mood for obscure authors from the 30s, for instance, or oddities of religion or travel. Not as much a treasure trove as Eliot's books of blessed memory, but Eliot's had three floors to be trovey in and Ten Editions only had the one.
4. Also in the 'destroy my past' dep't, the Second Cup at Bloor and Lippincott closed yesterday after more than twenty years in the location, and with no announcement at all. It was pure chance that I went there yesterday and heard the staff talking to customers. And that one I will miss: it has memories of reading Saiyuki manga in the winter of 2000, and various BL for the Aesthe page in the years following, and Mary Russells in the summer of 2011, and much more that I've forgotten.
5. Dreamed I was in a Japanese hotel/ school/ college and had forgotten my backpack and my hiking staff in one of the classrooms/ teacher's offices down a side corridor; the walls of the room itself were ramshackle wood with cracks between the boards, and getting back to it took me through carpeted lobbies with flowers and corridors with cafe tables and students, and an outside walkway in December sun and blue sky, but in the end I got to the room and discovered my backpack was still there, and of the relief, the happiness!
Wed Jan 2nd, 2019
|07:59 pm - *And* it's snowing|
Oh, alright. Today is Wednesday, but I did my reading meme yesterday. Reality has not quite reasserted itself yet.
Knee exercises have succeeded in making my quads too tight. Three hours of work leave me exhausted. Can no longer lever myself off the floor with hands and feet.
The Emperor gave his last New Year's address and the proper officials are considering what the new reign name will be, and this feels All Wrong, because Heisei started not that long ago. This is what living during the reigns of E2R and the Shouwa emperor does to your time sense. Sixty-plus is the proper length for a reign, and anything less is simply too short.
Tue Jan 1st, 2019
|08:37 pm - First day|
Years ago I bought a map of London to help, I think, make some sense of The Midnight Mayor. I have the feeling I threw it out because 'Google Maps, who needs paper'. A mistake. Probably I should just ignore all the place names that Aaronovitch throws out as Peter drives about London, but I need to see what's going on, and the new Google Maps is fricking useless when I'm trying to follow Peter veering round Euston Station and ending up at Bishopsgate. Google Maps is cluttered up with a million eateries and markers for tube stations without the names, and coloured lines that I assume are Underground but also not named and also useless, and the roads are all A-whatever so if you don't know that the A-10 is Bishopsgate, sucks to be you. Again, this shouldn't bother me, but Aaronovitch knows what he's seeing and I want to know too. The first book made so much more sense when I could see what St Paul's Church looked like.
This is why I don't upgrade my desktop: because this old version of Chrome gives me both names and numbers, eventually, and the little walking man icon at need. But it's nothing like as good as a paper map.
( Wednesday again? No, actually, it's still TuesdayCollapse )
Mon Dec 31st, 2018
|08:46 pm - Not with a bang but a gurgle|
I've already forgotten what 2018 was like. Look at my journal to refresh me. 2018 was snow in April, then rain and hurricane winds, that brought down trees and wires, and heat from May through Canadian Thanksgiving, after which it was just rain. As tonight, in fact. Me-wise, it was a six-week spring sinus infection that killed my sense of taste and smell, interspersed with recurring noroviruses and punctuated by cracked ribs. I mean, on top of the whole ongoing knees and hips and elbows drama. Nothing new happened to me but an abortive run-in with the jury system, the aftermath of which did, I admit, leave me feeling very happy, reading the Inferno in an Aroma coffee house near the Superior Court House, or one of them.
But there's a reason why I find little to mourn in the old year.
Made the mistake of looking at the handout for my knee surgery, assuming and rightly that they'd have exercises I was supposed to do. All of which were 'these things I have done from my youth upwards! and my physio says I'm doing them wrong'. But it was the follow-up at home that had me going No bloody way! Rent a walker. (Actually, you need a walker for the hospital, and someone to deliver it to said hospital after your surgery.) Rent crutches. Rent reach-a-things to put your underwear and socks on. Rent toilet seats with arms. Rent bath chair to use in shower. Use walker to get on to toilet or into bed, uses crutches to get down stairs, use- what? a second walker? to get around downstairs. I think they're assuming a household with able bodies in it to fetch and carry and drive one hither and yon, which in my case I certainly have not got.
I've calmed down a bit since and shall grill them if all this (including the 'possible hallucinations after surgery' are meant for very elderly patients, and if certain warnings are only meant for people with hip replacements. But I'm half convinced to try the effects of a 20 lb weight loss instead. Because I don't see me managing a walker with my twingy lower back and piriformis, or crutches with my arthritic elbows; and I especially don't see me not biking for three months after surgery, when they'll let me use a stationary bike after six weeks.
Sun Dec 30th, 2018
|08:16 pm - Betwixtmas|
As that inspired Guardian columnist calls it. Evidently I'm not the only one who has come unstuck in time, unable to keep days straight and losing a few in the process. I keep thinking today is New Year's Eve and am confused that there's still, yet, one more day left in this year.
At first I put this achronicity down to having a week-plus off work: but we closed between Christmas and New Year last year and I was quite grounded then. But last year Christmas was a Monday, which gave the illusion of a long weekend followed by a week's holiday. Must be the Tuesday date that does it, I figured. I was off work on the 21st and three days passed before Christmas itself, a disconcerting age at this time of year. Then followed two days holiday midweek and two normal days and then two days of weekend, a whipsaw alternation. But I checked my journal for 2012, when Christmas was also a Tuesday, and no, there was no floaty time sense then. But that year I was working and had a need to remember what day was what, etc etc.
In the end I must ascribe my muzziness to the lack of markers. Christmas was Christmas but everything afterwards was rain and malaise that kept me indoors more than usual. My wonted cafes and restaurants were closed, even when I wasn't bilious; the weather zig-zagged from seasonally cold on Monday to unseasonably warm on Friday (also the only bit of sun we got this week) to snow this morning. My Saturday routine was cancelled by the appointments I couldn't keep, and I visited my aunt today, which then felt like Saturday. But all will be back to normal come Wednesday, and I fancy I will be relieved.
Sat Dec 29th, 2018
|09:52 pm - Holidays|
The dead days are earning their name, aided by rain and a return of the norovirus that required me to cancel two appointments today, both of which I must still pay for. In consequence, I have been semi-crippled most of this week and have finished a buncha books.
Wed Dec 26th, 2018
|08:26 pm - Ah well|
Age is upon me. Last night I did what my s-i-l so often complains happens to her: sank into a pleasant post-Christmas dinner alcoholic sleep at 11 and woke, irrevocably, at 1 am. Usually I then sink back into the flannel-covered arms of Morpheus, but not last night. Looked at the dark, did exercises in bed, changed bedrooms, looked at the dark some more, turned on light and read Lies Sleeping until I began yawning, turned off light and slept to 10. And then turned over and slept another two hours. So the day was a quarter gone by the time I got up.
I'd taken prophylactics against the usual fallout from excessive wine, but my system still didn't want to eat much. Crackers and Brie and a hard boiled egg were my brunch and tea. However, I'd bought a mini-turducken that had been thawing in the fridge the requisite 2-3 days so I had to cook that up. Mini turducken is stuffed with Italian sausage which is the second reason (price is the first) I shall never buy another. I am left with a fair quantity of Meat- and pretty dry meat at that- which might go well minced with celery and ginger and bok choy. Stuffing birds one into the other is simply not the best way to cook said birds.
( Oh, it's Wednesday againCollapse )
Mon Dec 24th, 2018
|05:12 pm - Trovato|
So the King William's College annual 'who the hell knows *that*?' quiz is now up with its very few 'oh of course' questions- What word was uttered from atop the bust of Pallas? Who is remembered, with her brother, in Dorlcote churchyard? What, according to the hookah-smoking larva, can variably influence height?- and a plethora of 'I could tell you the work it's from but no more'- Which island or island group saw the surgeon accidentally marooned and obliged to survive on avian-polluted water and sulid blood? Aubrey/Maturin; Which pupil was, with one exception, the vilest manufacturer of “barbarous hexameters” that King had ever dealt with? Stalky and Co; Over what was the good fellow, Bob, to be offered a pay rise during the festive season? Christmas Carol; Which periodical likened the death of Tom Robinson to the senseless killing of songbirds by hunters and children? To Kill a Mockingbird; even, Which pupil when writing home, reported a 9-0 defeat by porridge court and requested a “bakterial gun”? Because I'm not sure if it's Molesworth or Molesworth 2.
But then there was this OMG I *know* that what *is* it? 'Who was seen as a ghost, dripping along in a bathing dress to the Congregational Hall?' Way back in the mists of time a poem showed up in, I'm prepared to swear, my grade 9 reader about someone swimming along, swimming along, swimming along to... Yawley? Rawley? My nun-trained poetry memory balked at proper names. The poem appeared without any explanation and struck me with the same sense of weirdness as The Dancing Cabman:
( Cut for verseCollapse )
It took some googling, but I found the swimming poem, along with an explanation of the weirdness. "John Betjeman's song A Shropshire Lad is about the English Channel swimmer Matthew Webb... Captain Matthew Webb caught the public imagination when he first swam the English Channel in 1875. After performing no end of feats of endurance and prowess in the water, he finally drowned while attempting a conquest of the rapids below the Niagara Falls. This story of the Captain's ghost returning to his home town in industrial Shropshire was devised by Sir John Betjeman..."
( Cut for more verseCollapse )
The only problem being that I can't find a date for this. The internet says it's a song that Betjeman recorded in 1972, a decade after I was in grade 9.
Sun Dec 23rd, 2018
|07:49 pm - Argh I give up|
1. Having spent the last month and more rereading the Rivers of London series to refresh my memory, I embark on the latest offering, only to discover in ch 1 practically a character I don't remember at all. Follypedia tells me he appeared in The Hanging Tree. The books of six weeks ago vanish from memory like the snows of spring.
2. Opened one of the unsatisfactory duvet packages to see how it looks when spread out. The label says 'heavy duty flannel' but it feels like heavy duty cotton ie very heavy, very rough, and not at all fleecy, let alone warm. If I'd wanted a weighted blanket, I'd have bought one. In the event it cost me nothing, and I now know to avoid that brand. But gakkari, certainly.
3. Told myself it was pathetic to go whinging on about 'I can't walk anymore, my knees hurt and my back hurts oh what shall I do?' My piriformis won't unkink unless I *do* walk, so I did, not unhappily, to the store and the coffee shop and back. And stretched afterwards to be safe. But now everything is knotted irretrievably and my back hurts almost as much as it does after a massage. My body is perverse.
Fri Dec 21st, 2018
|09:09 pm - Laeti triumphantes|
Or laeta triumphans, since there's only one of me. BUT:
Work over until a week Wednesday.
Postal strike not only over but caught up, so:
Lies Sleeping in the mailbox today. (Along with your Christmas card, G, and thank you for both.)
Aya de Yopoungo 4&5 in at the library.
That's me sorted for at least the next week.
And while we speak of an embarras de richesses, my duvet people have said oh g'wan, keep the other duvet as well. So I have two flannel duvets I'm not mad about, but economy says oh hell might as well use at least one of them. So... I suppose I might as well use at least one and give the other to the Diabetes or CP people.
Wed Dec 19th, 2018
|08:33 pm - Gratitudes|
1. Sun and dry.
2. Plague at work has thinned the ranks of tinies so I had yesterday off. Am sorry for the feverish tinies and their desperate parents, but a sunny holiday is nice.
3. Went back to the Evil Empire of Walmart and got a 4x tshirt. Still not as long and roomy as my first one, but covers what needs to be covered ie I can answer the door in it, which I can't in my usual sleep shirts.
Also bought a pair of 3X pants, floppy cotton-nylon blend. And must take them back because in pants, 3X is enormous on me. Sizing- the mystery of the universe.
4. Alas and alack, staff and parents have been bringing in Christmas cookies. The chocolates I can resist, but I never met a sugar cookie I didn't like.
5. The RoFo gov't stiffed us casual staff of our salary supplement for December, but work still rustled up a $100 bonus, which helps.
( MemeageCollapse )
Sat Dec 15th, 2018
|08:51 pm - Saturday miscellany|
The worst part of physiotherapy is perhaps the constant refrain of 'ur doin it rong'. So my quad strengthening exercises haven't been engaging my quads, and my core strengthening exercises, while done perfectly according to the old rules, no longer apply to the new, where you do not in fact flatten the back or tuck the tum. You tighten infinitisimal muscles while in the 'neutral' position, the one where there's a curve to your back ie the opposite of what I've been doing all along. And of course none of the new exercises are straightforward: not just 'flatten your knee' but 'engage this muscle that you've never used and then flatten your knee.' Better be worth it in four months time, is all I can say.
( Cut for better stuffCollapse )
Wed Dec 12th, 2018
|09:27 pm - Outside communication restored|
My copy of The Mortal Word arrived today, five and half weeks instead of the usual five and a half days after it was mailed. Am much relieved; the PO has been known to generate spontaneous black holes.
Otherwise we stagger through the last eight working days till Christmas. It is not I who am working ten hour shifts without breaks, presumably voluntary; and I hope those who are have a lovely ten day break. God knows they deserve it.
( Can I even remember what I've read?Collapse )
Sat Dec 8th, 2018
|08:19 pm - Rivers thoughts|
My, how simmering chicken stock stinks up a house. I could blame the bottom-of-the-fridge vegetables for it (I usually use fresh, and put them in the soup after) but I think it's just the nature of the bony beast. Can attest from living in Tokyo that pork bone broth making smells much worse.
So I re-re-re-re-read the RoL books while waiting for the latest, and still keep finding things I'd forgotten or never noted in the first place, like How does Peter know Molly can do what Molly does? Nightingale flipping told him. Of course, he told him first in a one-line throwaway and then in an unreported conversation, as per Aaronovitch's sideways style (cf 'enterology's answer to Cat Stevens') so I might be excused for not having noticed the first few times.
However these many times re-readings do raise other questions. Like why, in Soho, is Ash so hysterical about having cold iron in him? Granted, an iron rail through the shoulder is pretty bad, but howcum 'Argh argh argh it's cold iron I'm dying?' River gods aren't Fae, after all.
Speaking of whom, the Pale Lady, who looks like Molly/ the Faery Queen and has teeth (in her head) like Molly/ the Faery Queen, and attacks the jugular like Molly, at least, but who's called a chimera. Is she a Fae altered by the Faceless Man? or do all Fae have teeth down below? If she's working for the Faceless Man, why is she also out clubbing and looking for date rapists to dis-member (see what I did there?)? Natural proclivity for blood? (Which raises the question of Molly: if she's nauseated by Peter's blood to the point of vomiting, why does she come after him for more?)
The chimera in Dr Moreau's strip club: how come all but one are dead? Who killed them? Faceless Man 2? Nightingale when he did whatever he did that stopped Larry the Lark? (But they were dead before then, right? Nightingale reports bodies, which I assume meant corpses.) How come the last one died in the ambulance- what killed him/ her/ it? In Soho, Faceless Man 2 has a tiger boy, but after that the chimera disappear. Where was FM2 stashing the rest of them, if there was a rest of them? Why did he kill everyone with a connection to FM1, however long ago that connection was, like Johnson and Dunlop and Smith? IIRC it was the murder of Dunlop that put the Folly on his trail in the first place. Bad move.
Us Cartesians would like a few answers, is all.
Fri Dec 7th, 2018
|08:57 pm - Dilemma|
Oh dear. The ebook of Lies Sleeping has arrived. To read in that uncongenial format or not to read? Must decide, and soon, because people are waiting for my copy.
Thu Dec 6th, 2018
|07:56 pm - The miseries of acquisition|
How ironic that I'm currently up to the Hoarders and Wasters in the Purgatorio.
So a while back I ordered some Laura Ashley flannel sheets from a place called Wayfair. Sheets arrived with commendable promptitude. Not as soft as the ones from Canadian The Linen Closet, but well enough to give me two unpilled fitted sheets. (Three if you count the ones I got 30 years ago from my younger brother. The pillow cases of those are rags, but the sheets are still quite robust.) Therefore I ordered a flannel duvet cover in a grey arabesque pattern- paisley, supposedly- to replace the yellow/grey squares and the brown/ green checks of my current two, both of which swear mightily at my bedrooms' colour schemes. Duvet cover arrived with commendable promptitude but- was the wrong one. A Mondrian white and sage and brown. Not exactly checks, but certainly squares (or rectangles) and still the wrong colour.
I emailed them and they solicitously asked for details- what did the invoice say (it said 'paisley'), what did it look like, could I send them a pic? Which I did: even tracked down the online details of the Mondrian for them. Guy called me personally to double check on everything, apologized, said they'd send the right one at once, and I could keep or recycle the unsatisfactory cover, which I thought handsome of them. (They're in California, as it turns out, and evidently think it not worth paying the freight back.) When I'd checked the paisley cover again it had gone out of stock, so I was glad to get the last remaining one.
Tuesday I get a voicemail from the guy handling my account, saying their records show the delivery has been made, they'll close the account, but if there are any concerns please call him on his cell- which I could do, having America wide calling, but prefer not to. Also got a slew of emails: one from him, one announcing my delivery, one asking for feedback on how manager had managed my case. Great. Come home after hell day, see no package on the porch where previous packages had been left, come in and find the box sitting on the bench in the hallway. Delivery man had had recourse to next door just in case, and they'd obligingly left it in my house.
Great service. I don't even mind the Wayfair ads that now appear on every webpage I visit, and the email ads that crop up almost as often as honto.jp's ones.
But when I open the box it's another Mondrian. Email my guy and have heard nothing back since. I guess Mondrian squared are better than eye=searing checks, but oh dear.
Tue Dec 4th, 2018
|09:17 pm - Another one bites the dust|
I never got the hang of tumblr, never figured out how people had actual conversations on it, and am not crying because it's going belly up. FFLs are full of 'welcome tumblrites this is how DW works!' posts. Nice if tumblr had ever done the same for us old codgers. "What this post is actually about is, with people from Tumblr joining in droves: How does one get a Dreamwidth reading page that's full of interesting people writing interesting things?"
Simplest thing in the world to me- find a user, look at their friends page, pick anyone interesting to friend, look at *their* friends page, and so on. Whereas tumblr always seemed to be happening somewhere else, with any single entry followed by a useless list of people who reblogged that entry without any sign of further comments at all.
Which said, I did find some good tumblr RoL commenters whose posts were interesting, even if there seemed no way to join in the discussion. Hope they come over here.
Sun Dec 2nd, 2018
|08:32 pm - Wet weekend, as ever|
A December thunderstorm. How charming. -_-
Possibly not surprising after the October temps today- 10 or 12C, into the 50sF. Wore a tshirt under the winter jacket, because until the sun came out mid-afternoon it was a grey and dank 10C. Also wore the Mystery Trousers, which are the only non-elasticized waistband pants I own, and which I now fit into after the recent 10 lb loss. But. I bought-- and more importantly, wore-- them in 2007 when I was thirty pounds heavier than now. Thirty pounds is a lot of me: you'd think they'd hang on me now. But no: fit nicely, no more. I can only assume that, post-menopause, my weight redistributed itself again, putting it where ten pounds ago made the pants fit tight.
Finished The Furthest Station, which is another lost text. Lost because my mind retained the impression of pages and pages about High And Over which required me to google the real building to see what it looked like. That description isn't in the book. What *is* in the book is the unexplained (AFAICT) fox slaughter. OK, maybe the neighbours did it; but why include it at all?
Got Moriarty as an ebook from the library, and well enough, but the constant misuse of 'shall' is driving me batty. Yes I had to look it up to find out why it struck me as wrong, but turns out my ear had it right. As a future tense, 'shall' can only be used with first person. You can't say 'It shall be very enjoyable.' Has to be 'will'.
If solitary, be not idle: so to combat accidia I did the weekend laundry and dishes (bare minimum achievement, though why must this single person do so much laundry? I did two washes during the week as well.) (Answer: in winter I wear long-sleeved tops that sticky-fingered infings grab hold of, so one top = one day. Thus: extra dark washes.) Then vacuumed the downstairs and kitchen, mended my one remaining nightshirt, and darned a sock that's been sitting waiting for me to do it this last month. Might even write a few more Christmas cards to crown the day.
Sat Dec 1st, 2018
|10:45 pm - Argh again|
Had my first physiotherapy session with a proper ie not assembly line physiotherapist. Turns out I've been doing my quad strengthening exercises wrong for the last four years, is why my quads are not strong. So much for the efficacy of mimeographed handouts, guys.
Wed Nov 28th, 2018
|08:34 pm - Blue cold evening|
After this morning's snowflurries melted in the grateful sun. Wind strong but still, the sight of blue sky counts for much. Am still exhausted after only a few hours' work, which may be age or cold or the psychic fallout of extremely unhappy knees. Occurred to me that paradoxically, joints hurt less when I was living on muscle relaxants and maybe I should try them again, but all that accomplished yesterday, when I wasn't working, was a nap mid-afternoon.
( MemeageCollapse )
Tue Nov 27th, 2018
|05:37 pm - In the teeth of the storm|
Succeeded in the Last Task of getting snow melt (ecologically friendly, will not harm children, animals or concrete.) Rode it home on the bike in the gusty winds of winter, cursing mightily at the weight. But then considered that last year, those 10 kg/ 22 lbs were on me, not the carrier. Which is, I suppose, a cheering thought.
Also took a pair of pants to the seamstress to have the elastic replaced. Now, these are a pair of boulevard pants ie picked up from same, without pockets, and three-quarter length, none of which makes them especially desirable. And it'll cost $25 for the operation. New ones would run me much less-- if I could find them. But they're also warm without being fleecy, a combination that's increasingly rare, and the only other wearable warm pants I own. Warm pants for me are men's lounge pants in non-plaid colours (plaid is the dead giveaway of lounge pants, as are cute reindeer etc) because nothing else is long enough and elasticised at the waist, and for some reason solid colours are impossible to find.
And I can wear them over my thinner pants, of which I have a plethora because somehow they do make women's cotton trousers in my size, and take the upper layer off in work's overheated space. So go me again.
And now we've returned to our regularly scheduled winter precipitation, that was interrupted so briefly by yesterday's downpours and leaf soup in all the gutters. Did note as I sloshed to the laundromat (that duvet cover grew no cleaner) that at this time of year the sidewalks are coloured brown.
Sun Nov 25th, 2018
|06:04 pm - Staggering back to normal|
Today, for the first time in weeks, I managed something more than the weekend essentials of laundry and dishes. The front hall is now (more or less) clear of the leaves that blow in/ attach to bike wheels and has been swiffered (more or less) clean. Ditto the kitchen floor in a bit more lick and a promise fashion. Of course, now it all smells of Febreeze or whatever the stinky stuff is, but that too will pass. Am thinking of a cleaning service for the downstairs, since arthritis and tendinitis make wiping such a (literal) pain. Must consider both bank balance and emotional reaction of 'but strangers will see how dirty my house is!'
Am still knackered.
OTOH as I went through the kitchen catchall looking for my other watch (because the metal band on the good watch, always too small, has now stretched to sagging proportions) I found my copper bracelet and put it on-- not that it ever worked before. But either today's massage was more effective than usual or copper bracelets work on arthritis when they don't work on tendinitis. In any case, ouchy elbow is currently not that ouchy anymore. So go me.
|03:38 pm - Dilemma|
It's very nice that Lush has a million and one present packages, but why doesn't it have gift certificates? I can't use 90% of their products, given my oversensitive nose, and I'd rather not give products blind that may affect the recipient the same way.
Sat Nov 24th, 2018
Radio silence is down to the fact that this intestinal bug and its dramatic weight losses is not only draining, it's recurring. Has recurred twice since last weekend, and while the dramatic weight loss looks good on the scale, it doesn't make it any easier to get up and down from chairs or the floor, or to do stairs. Which is boo hiss all round. And dispiriting, because a few years ago I could *run* at this weight.
Loss won't last, of course, because even though I eat lightly and have for a week, it seems the one thing my body will tolerate is lovely sweet and sour caraway rye bread.
Stiffness and owies are doubtless also due to cold damp weather. This has been a precipitous year: what I'd give for five consecutive days of sun and seasonable temps. It's a normal 6C today, but raining.
Thus have accomplished very little. Did finish Goldenhand, which yes I know it's YA but oh seriously all this shy young lurve schtick 'oh what can be his soft emotion which enters my breast, why these blushes and confusion, why am I so undone in his presence?' is really a bit much.
Should reread Foxglove Summer just to find what I missed there as well as in The Hanging Tree. Probably should reread Broken Homes as well because I never got a fix on who or what Oberon is and there he is in the comics evidently being something else.
Sun Nov 18th, 2018
Woke up lithe and limber Saturday morning. Exercise is good for the aches, evidently. Lucky that I did, because 15 minutes later the daycare plague started, so there was much quick traverse between bedroom and bathroom all day. As promised, it's a virulent bug that isn't quite over 24 hours later. Cancelled all my appointments for this weekend, including massage alas, and slogged on through Goldenhand. Not helped by breaking my bedroom reading glasses and finding that all the other pairs are weaker. Hoped if the fireworks were over today I might somehow get to the Bloor St dollar store for another pair but the area is utterly foutu because of the Santa Claus parade. In fact my area is foutu past Ossington, blocks beyond where the parade starts, with busses blocking Bloor still.
I know because I got out this afternoon to that Shoppers and bought a Presto card, trying to be patient with the parking lot of cars filling all the streets between me and it. Had thought of going up to the one on Dupont, technically closer, but traffic is doubtless worse the farther east you go and Dupont drivers are murderous at the best of times. Anyway, it's done.
Tried to register the card at once- won't get fooled again- only to encounter the message
"If you purchased a PRESTO card at a Customer Service Outlet, you will need to wait up to 24 hours before creating a My PRESTO Account online." OK. So don't use the thing tomorrow, just in case; and hopefully I can still bicycle then.
Fri Nov 16th, 2018
|10:28 pm - A day|
The snow didn't stop overnight or turn to rain, but was still falling as semi-sleet when I woke up. So got implements from the basement and shoved not shovelled (no heavy lifting, remember?) it to the side of my sidewalk (insufficiently broom-swept the night before) and my brother's and the Islamic Studies people's (untouched since yesterday afternoon.) Came in to hear the answering machine recording. Shift worker has the intestinal plague, can I be 2:30 person. My ordinary shift at 3:30 was covered by benevolent FT staff ('I don't want you to strain yourself') so I'd booked acupuncture for that afternoon. However: needs must when the devil drives, so I said yes, though I shall make a grand profit of $5 for 3.5 hours after deducting the cancellation fee.
Then trudged off in the snow to the bank, because I was penniless, and the Bathurst Station, because my Presto card has mysteriously vanished into thin air. And yes of *course* I should have registered it long ago so they could send me one in the fullness of time (mail has been delayed or cancelled by stealth rotating strikes) but I didn't, so I must buy a new one. The machines in all the stations will only sell regular cards, not students and seniors, but the webpage said the Gateway news stand in certain stations does. (So it's not a question of ID, evidently.) Station attendant knew nothing about this system and advised, as ever, to go to Shoppers Drug Mart. But not any Shoppers located near a subway station, oh no. The ones that aren't getting enough traffic, so the Presto cards serve as loss leaders. Shoppers are rip-off artists and it amazes me that anyone would buy from their overpriced selection.
However. Got down to the lower level, asked about Presto cards, guy says they do sell the S-cards (seniors and students) but the TTC hasn't delivered any to them in ages, in spite of repeated requests. Sounds like they want people to buy a regular card for the convenience of the thing and forego the $1.15 saving on each ride. This situation will become even more dire when they get rid of tickets and tokens entirely next year.
But the snow continues to melt and tomorrow, please God, I can bicycle, and will, to that Shoppers out by Dovercourt, and get a new Presto. I keep hoping it will turn up in a pants pocket or in the recesses of the Bag of Holding, but doubtless that will happen only if I buy a replacement.
Having today walked more than I have since, oh probably the last time it snowed, in April I believe, I'm quite zonked. Also left boot doesn't fit again: without insole it's too large, with insole it cramps my toes. Must wear thicker socks, I suppose. But the exercise does seem to have snapped me out of my invalidish mindset- oh I must rest my poor poor ribs, oh I shall lie on the bed all day with books, oh the housework can slide another day or week. My body may have a different idea tomorrow, but I hope to be mobile again.