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Pleasant day
This morning's lie in dream was an almost coherent From Eroica one where Dorian was throwing a birthday party for Klaus with a fancy cake, which Klaus didn't want to eat of course, and an incursion by spies of some sort, as well as a gaggle of teenage boys who were there for some other reason, and distracted Dorian was trying to keep all these things together.
Then as I was sitting on the couch there was a tremendous banging at the door, which left me uncertain if it was my door or NND's. But then Guy (it's always guys who bang on the screen door; women ring) found the doorbell and pressed that, so yes, my house, and what does he want so insistently? He wants me to sign for my 100 Demons, is what, so how lucky I answered the door.
Meanwhile the next installment of Murderbot arrives at the library so off I trot to get it. Then drop by Ninetails coffee shop for a cold brew and look, today they have the smoked salmon and yuzu mayo croissant, so I get one of those. Barista says 'you can sit down, I'll bring you your coffee' and I say I'm outside, where I've parked the rollator, and he says he'll bring me my coffee anyway. This is pleasant.
White haired woman in sunglasses stops as she's leaving the café to ask what I'm eating, so I tell her, and consequently get a slice of her life story about how her teenage rebellion against her fisherman father took the form of refusing to eat fish and she still doesn't but now takes omega-3 capsules even though she doesn't trust most supplements but needs to keep her brain in good order because she lives alone and now she challenges herself mentally by for instance setting up her new modem and router herself which she didn't want to but two years ago she'd just have hired someone to do it and this year she managed it alone. I do miss conversations, which this wasn't, it was someone talking at me. Yes, old women living alone are starved for human interaction: but I'm an old woman living alone and you don't see me buttonholing strangers to talk about my cinnamon tablets and turmeric. Which said, just about the only people in TO who will talk to strangers are indeed old women.
The croissant btw is nice enough but the yuzu mayo is loaded with wasabi so shall not repeat.
Roused myself this evening to make the chickpea, spinach, and coconut curry I've been intending to for the past few days. Is very good but if I ever do this again shall use light coconut milk because regular makes things very greasy.
Then as I was sitting on the couch there was a tremendous banging at the door, which left me uncertain if it was my door or NND's. But then Guy (it's always guys who bang on the screen door; women ring) found the doorbell and pressed that, so yes, my house, and what does he want so insistently? He wants me to sign for my 100 Demons, is what, so how lucky I answered the door.
Meanwhile the next installment of Murderbot arrives at the library so off I trot to get it. Then drop by Ninetails coffee shop for a cold brew and look, today they have the smoked salmon and yuzu mayo croissant, so I get one of those. Barista says 'you can sit down, I'll bring you your coffee' and I say I'm outside, where I've parked the rollator, and he says he'll bring me my coffee anyway. This is pleasant.
White haired woman in sunglasses stops as she's leaving the café to ask what I'm eating, so I tell her, and consequently get a slice of her life story about how her teenage rebellion against her fisherman father took the form of refusing to eat fish and she still doesn't but now takes omega-3 capsules even though she doesn't trust most supplements but needs to keep her brain in good order because she lives alone and now she challenges herself mentally by for instance setting up her new modem and router herself which she didn't want to but two years ago she'd just have hired someone to do it and this year she managed it alone. I do miss conversations, which this wasn't, it was someone talking at me. Yes, old women living alone are starved for human interaction: but I'm an old woman living alone and you don't see me buttonholing strangers to talk about my cinnamon tablets and turmeric. Which said, just about the only people in TO who will talk to strangers are indeed old women.
The croissant btw is nice enough but the yuzu mayo is loaded with wasabi so shall not repeat.
Roused myself this evening to make the chickpea, spinach, and coconut curry I've been intending to for the past few days. Is very good but if I ever do this again shall use light coconut milk because regular makes things very greasy.
no subject
This. It's sometimes enjoyable, sometimes freaky. While in a hospital waiting room last week, I learned without asking from the old woman (although she's probably younger than I am) seated near me that, among other things, her sister had a criminal record and was attempting to cheat her out of an inheritance, that her third husband had killed himself, that her physical problems are made worse by the doctor and better by a naturopath who sells his own line of supplements and here's his name and wouldn't I like to buy some, and that nothing on earth could persuade her to live east of Yonge or south of Lawrence. I was liberated when the kind nurse called my name.
I have to say that I'm impressed by your old woman setting up her own modem and router. I may have to do that soon, and it's good to know that one of my tribe has done it unassisted. (No doubt many, many other old women can and do, but it will be a first for me.)
no subject
Yes, it does balance out between enjoyable and the reverse. A change from my younger days when the only people who talked to strangers were invariably demented. (Or guys trying to pick me up.) But your hospital woman sounds borderline on the sanity front to me.
Wouldn't live east of Yonge myself though I have done briefly. But south of Lawrence? I wouldn't live north of St Clair. It may not be as white bread up there as it was 40 years back but it still feels pretty white bread.
Life is too short to reconfigure modems and routers. I'm guessing the change for her was because of Bell shenanigans, to which I say, let Bell do it.
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That Yuzu mayo sounds intriguing.
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Maybe if they told stories that didn't always involve their health. I know, that's the most pressing subject once one reaches a certain age (boy, do I know) but there are other things to talk about.
It was nice mayonnaise if it hadn't blown my sinuses out.