It has been more demanding to recall the previous day. I have less structure now, and memory is often hung on a framework. I try to remember what meals I ate and what transitions were in the day to form a start. Frequently, it takes me twenty minutes to recall the day. I eat breakfast, just a banana and coffee, liberal, and try to remember. I look at the photos on my phone, and sometimes I look in the trash for hints of what I made, and slowly, I remember. I often recall more as I write the blog. I will suddenly remember a task I did and add that back in.
Friday was messy, as I had a doctor’s appointment in the morning. I never take the first appointment, as often folks are late to work, and you can wait longer. For some reason, I remember appointments on Fridays (nothing else going on that day). My appointment was at 8:40; I had just been there a few minutes before.
I called Deborah while driving to the doctor’s office. We often talk while traveling. I spoke to Deborah and texted her on and off all Friday. While working from home on Friday, Deborah shoveled and used a snow blower to clear her driveway. Deborah likes her driveway to be safe and tidy.
For me, the Doc is a check-in that I am improving, that there was no backsliding on existing issues, and that nothing new surfaced. My weight is still slowly moving down. My blood pressure at the office was 124/80, and my A1C fell further (despite the holidays!) to 5.1. None of the other tests showed any out-of-line results (I am still waiting for one result). Doc and I talked about changing some prescriptions, but with the good results, we agreed to let everything remain. “I do not mind taking the pills as it feels like I am taking positive action when taking them,” I explained. I did talk about some chest pain, and should this reappear, it will be off to more tests. “Retirement is working for you,” was Doc’s reflection, and Doc was pleased. We discussed my destroyed Volvo, as Doc suggested this could happen to anyone, and it was disturbing that it was not covered by insurance. We talked about travel and that I was in a relationship with Deborah. Doc was pleased and happy for me. We will meet again in four months. With diabetes, cancer, and various drugs I am taking, monitoring is mandated.
I am off to the lab for blood work and other tests. This is another hour or so, but soon, I am back in Air VW, the Gray that whisked me off after rising early. I had not had anything to drink other than water with my pills since 10 the previous night. La Provenance is now open in the Cedar Mills Crossing retail area (where the Doc office is), and I land in a nearly full parking lot. The place is humming for a late Friday morning.
Last time, I sat at the bar for twenty minutes before being served, and then I was mobbed. I asked for the bar if they would not forget me, and the pretty young gal (who was there last time) said that would never happen. I smile, and soon, she is proven right. She even checks in with me later. I notice that the plaques have words on them now, and the place is running with an ease that I did not see last time. The place was newly opened when I enjoyed a more random service.
My waiter was split with tables, and not the bartender (I never got his name), and he had amazing wing tattoos on his neck that I complimented as I had never seen such excellent work on a neck. He ensured I had plenty of their superb coffee. I provided my choices to my waiter, and he said that Baked Eggs a la Française was the best choice from the list I suggested. I stuck to coffee and talked to Deborah, and my waiter smiled; talking to your love on the phone was normal now, especially if alone at the bar. It is not rude.
I watched the bartender, who was busy mixing various juices into glasses with booze. Yes, morning drinking on a ‘work-from-home’ Friday is more the norm now. My food arrived, and it was huge and delicious. The meal could have used salt, but I added none. Susie used to call the salt shaker ‘white death’ and had them all removed from her food services (a guest could always request a salt cellar). If I wanted salt at home, I had to go into the kitchen to get it. I use some when cooking, much less than most recipes call for. I smiled at my waiter when I removed a large piece of shell from my egg (I don’t care as long as I see it in time–I did). I enjoyed my meal, and after the third coffee, I switched to water, though the fruit juices with booze were tempting, especially with an A1C at 5.1.
Aside: Eric ‘Elric’ Anderson passed away last year. He often commented on the blog, and the above comment about getting a boozy fruit drink would have gotten a response from him. Something imaginative, I am sure. I believe he would focus on a statement that we don’t usually take all the drugs to then drink. Usually. We miss you, Elric, but you rush ahead laughing and calling us to follow. “What! Do you want to live forever?” he would say, quoting a Conan movie, looking serious for a moment and then laughing again.
I felt a bit off after the coffee and food, but I suspect it was not a reaction to the food and drink. My colon had reached maximum, and I enjoyed the ‘cork and bottle’ experience with everything emptying in a few passes. Yikes! Yes, I was full (many folks think I am full of s**t, and I was). With that issue resolved, I loaded Air FW with paint and headed to Ace Hardware. They took the paint, and I got more vent covers. I will put them on Saturday (I forgot about them). More space is now available in the garage. More tax documents showed and were available for download. The trash and recycling came, and the extra bags (for an additional charge) were all taken.
I began to remove all the modeling stuff from my table in the fireplace room. This is where I work now, and my office is a bit trashed by events, and a mattress is in there. It’s one of the many things I need to return to order. Car replacement and EV requirements are currently at the top of the list. I am waiting for the estimate for the work. Next is getting the house ready for visitors (Deborah), which is moving along.
I have returned to other hobbies. I decided to paint figures again because it is an almost immediate gratification hobby (a ship model because I want everything perfect was a six-month to two-year commitment). In the evening, I got out my 4077 figures from the UK, removed the mold marks, cleaned them, attached them to a painting stick, used my favorite spray primer (Tamiya Fine Surface Light Gray), and did four light coats from different directions. I later painted flesh color on the figures. I have a 28mm scale helicopter and hut to build, too. It was a pleasure to find all those skills ready to be used.
I have also returned to stamp collecting for the same reason, and though it can be a lonely hobby, it is something I have done most of my life, and I like it. I also see lower prices as the impact of crypto has lessened, and the slabbing of worthless stamps (a new-like perfect three-cent 1930s stamp is not worth $100 while a dime from the same time might be) seemed to be passing on. I found a few items I need, more obscure items, for better than 50% off retail (what you expect in philatelic auctions). If you collect like me, mostly used stamps and will not pay premium prices for so-called superb items, prices are much lower, and I am always looking for some expensive items sold for a reduced cost (for example, a corner missing on what would be a $500+ item). I also pick up forgeries here and there (marked that way) to add to my forgery collection (some have more interesting stories than the original). I have a proof-version of Scott#2 for you US stamp collectors, but I want a real one. A costly item. I am watching for Scott 8A as they may go in some poorly attended auctions for far less than the $2,000 retail. I missed one that went for less than $300 and still watch now. But you must get one from a reputable dealer as the stamp is hard to identify. Certified versions, even damaged copies, always go for $1000+.
Dinner was reheated pasta and Italian-style sausage, and I watched Classic Doctor Who. The Hand of Evil was a strange set of episodes that I cannot recommend. An actor, a woman painted gray and covered with shells and bits of flashy stones, brought life to the show and storyline with some good acting and better writing. Still, she was replaced by a man when she regenerated, and the story and acting were awful after that. I could not recommend it.
(Boris was damaged in the crash of the curio cabinet but is ready again)
I worked on figures and was surprised that my hands hurt—I am out of practice. I did the dishes, put the trash in the now empty trash can (two bags worth), and moved the recycling stacked in the house to the container. I read for a while, and soon, it was late. I was not in bed after a shower and in my PJs. There is more order. There is more to do.
Thanks for reading!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 