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I believed the forecast that said rain Monday night and thus was disheartened to find snow on the rooftops Tuesday morning. Slidy slush, not quite as bad as two weeks ago. Had to wear new boots which, even with thick socks and gel bunion pads, hurt to walk in. But had last physio session till the new year and bought a turkey dinner at Farm Boy while temps rose to above freezing.
Today was sun and old boots. Debated walking in shoes but luckily good sense prevailed. There's still a lot of ice at street corners and laneways, and lower back having conniptions for no good reason, unless boots count as same. But went out for Pauper's Christmas dinner anyway. Turkey was dry, and there was too much of it, but the root veg, mash, and stuffing were excellent as ever. But filling, very filling. My stomach is shrinking, not that it affects my weight at all.
Finished Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments, next installment in Huchu's Edinburgh Nights series. Was a bit of a downer to start cause Ropa can never catch a break, but very satisfying by the end. Shall read on when I'm assured I can get to the library without pain.
Still with Petty Treason, the Sarah Tolerance Regency mystery, and a Dr Priestley, The Bloody Tower, which I just know will end up hinging on obscure ballistical knowledge. Dr Priestleys almost always tend to John Dickson Carr levels of odd and unlikely murder methods.
After that who knows? Friday is supposed to be unspeakable and I will be indoors for a while. What I wanted to do was reread Little, Big which should be on the shelves in the front bedroom-- I can see it there clearly-- but I combed them this morning, back screaming like a banshee, moving many ancient volumes back and forth and filling a bag with To Be Donateds, but it's nowhere to be found.
Today was sun and old boots. Debated walking in shoes but luckily good sense prevailed. There's still a lot of ice at street corners and laneways, and lower back having conniptions for no good reason, unless boots count as same. But went out for Pauper's Christmas dinner anyway. Turkey was dry, and there was too much of it, but the root veg, mash, and stuffing were excellent as ever. But filling, very filling. My stomach is shrinking, not that it affects my weight at all.
Finished Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments, next installment in Huchu's Edinburgh Nights series. Was a bit of a downer to start cause Ropa can never catch a break, but very satisfying by the end. Shall read on when I'm assured I can get to the library without pain.
Still with Petty Treason, the Sarah Tolerance Regency mystery, and a Dr Priestley, The Bloody Tower, which I just know will end up hinging on obscure ballistical knowledge. Dr Priestleys almost always tend to John Dickson Carr levels of odd and unlikely murder methods.
After that who knows? Friday is supposed to be unspeakable and I will be indoors for a while. What I wanted to do was reread Little, Big which should be on the shelves in the front bedroom-- I can see it there clearly-- but I combed them this morning, back screaming like a banshee, moving many ancient volumes back and forth and filling a bag with To Be Donateds, but it's nowhere to be found.
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Even given it's post-apocalyptic Edinburgh, it has a great sense of place.