All night long, I was not warm enough, in spite of my extra blanket foresight. Obviously, time to get the goose from the back of the closet. I do need Laura to help in extricating it, and she isn't home right now.
We did our mite of cleaning this morning, and she went off on another "emergency". Kay decided she wanted to keep chickens. All my years at that house, chickens never crossed my mind. Tom and I seriously discussed a miniature pig once, but chickens, never. And, Janice nixed the pig.
Kay called me over the week. What do I know about keeping chickens? Actually more than she, it turns out. I know one should investigate the requirements first. But, Kay had a bathroom of peepers and no clue. Laura went to walk Kay one drive way down the road and introduce her to Laurie, who keeps chickens.
Look what I found in the kitchen! Also a batch of chocolate chip, which I don't care for. Those have a little backstory, too, though not as pressing as chicks in the bathroom. Laura's ASL teacher was rummaging in her backpack, and in the process consigned a package of chocolate chips to the trash. "Expired", she explained. Laura left with them, and will treat ASL to cookies on Monday.
Luxuriating this morning in that half-light before sunrise, I made a mental note to take care of the comforter before bedtime came round again. In problem solving mode, I also resolved to spend the day not aggravating my shoulder. I would do that by abandoning the walker for the cane.
There is a problem with that. The cane is held opposite the "bad" limb, and moves with it, and makes contact with the ground together with the bad limb, to support it. However, my "terminal osteoarthritis" shoulder has left the building. It's through holding up my broken leg. So, after breakfast I consigned the walker to the corner and set about learning to walk with the cane in my right hand.
There was an immediate advantage apparent. When the therapist taught me to use the walker, my stride had to be stand on the good leg and move the bad and the walker forward. Move the good leg even with the bad. Repeat. I confess I was striding with the walker as soon as the therapist left. I am terrified to do that with the cane. Falling seems imminent and on top of that, my knee hyperextends.
Son.of.a.gun. So, the good leg goes no further than the bad.
My shoulder hurts only the normal amount, having supported nothing heavier than a cup of coffee and a couple of cookies, all day. The knee is pretty good too; only a couple of snaps today. Now my concern is facing the young doctor's demand tomorrow, "Who released you to walk on a cane!?"