Not much, how ‘bout you?

There is a new porcelain crown installed on the second from back tooth on the upper left side of my mouth.  Once the numbing wore off, my cheek and eye twitch decided to strut their stuff yet another time before I smacked ‘em down with pain reliever.
The dentist recommended soup or soft foods for a day or so, until the area gets settled down.

Chris and I got his car out to the mechanic this morning.
Then I played chauffeur while he did a few errands, and we stopped at the grocery store for the fixins for Christmas breakfast.  French Toast with real maple syrup and sausage is our family history.  He changed the request from links to patties, so we will have something new after all.  I’m really glad for the great variety of cans of soup at a grocery store.

He had to be at work at 1pm, so he’s got my car.

I’m home on a blustery winter afternoon.
It is 26oF with freezing rain, with more of the same forecast for tomorrow.

ENYA is on the stereo and I’m playing eeny-meeny-miney-moh to decide whether I want to put up the wooden figures Nativity Scene, address some more newsletter envelopes (we got 6 greeting cards in today’s mail), crochet some potholders, or knit a hat.

Not included in my little game is empty the dishwasher, iron several of Husband’s work shirts (he’s gonna be on vacation for a week, so he won’t need ‘em too soon), or clean the toilet.  Such chores get put off so often that sometimes I forget I’m the person first responsible for the upkeep.

One thing I decided is that compost of vegetable scraps, etc. will not be happening over the winter.  The little container on the counter has been cleaned out, run twice through the dishwasher, and retired to a spot under the basement steps.  Even with a cover on, it was quite a source of mold and stink, and I don’t like carrying it out separately across the yard in the opposite direction from the trash bin.  There was a time when I would pay $1 to the first teenager I could grab to go empty it.  My sons and their friends have stories to tell.

Sometimes, frugal and responsible is too much work.

The CD is playing the last song, and I’m still here at the screen.

I really should be doing something with a solid outcome.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

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