Lugnasa Superior Wolf Moon
Quite an unproductive day so far. Ah, the golden years.
Kate’s off to the Bailey Library for the Bailey Patchworkers. She’s working on a wonderful Bat Mitzvah present for Ruth, a quilt with the squares made from counted cross-stitches sewn by her other grandma, Barb Bandel. She has three years to finish it so I think she’ll make it.
I admit reading the online news about the election is sucking up more and more of my time. The Donald Trumpette is a political car crash from which I cannot look away. Hillary, while an old pol and a centrist, doesn’t have near the I gotta see this appeal. The Donald today said, “I’m not changing my strategy or my temperament.” Whew. As the Cream said, “I’m so glad.”
We’re in a lull here between court dates, remodelers and the beginning of fall. Feels a bit sloth-like.
My knee injection seems to have helped. Lisa Gidday, our internist, agreed with me yesterday when I said it’s gotten worse. “Yep, you’re going to be thinking joint replacement at some point.” Well, I haven’t had any surgery this year so far. So, why not? Not really so cavalier about it.
However. I’ve gotten to the point where my life does have some new restrictions and I don’t like them. An example. Going to the Denver County Fair last weekend. I wandered around on the concrete floors of the Stockshow Building, the site of the Fair, for a couple of hours with Ruth, Gabe and Jon. When I got back, my leg did not like having done that. Hiking is painful, too. Point is, replacing that arthritic knee will make sense. Oh, boy.
Gertie is napping right next to the computer. Dreaming, she’s wagging her tail. Very sweet.