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Surgeon's assistant wrote her phone number on one of the papers she gave me-- I think the list of rehab places. Can I find it? No. Why why why does this always happen?
On the plus paw, surgeon's report said to walk as much as possible, so off I trundled to Bloor to check the balance in my non-online bank account. Balance is still good and will be topped up by the guvmint in a week's time. Trundled back over to Doug Miller Books which was empty enough that my rollator could get in, though I doubt I could negotiate the back reaches (detective and SFF) which are too narrow even for a backpack. Scored a copy of Bleak House that I may want to reread sometime just because, and an Elizabeth Peters from the $1 bin, and a Wayson Choy, and trundled on towards the greengrocers, pleased at how much happier my knees are in the returned dry. And as I passed various Korean stores, there by god was a sign: Watch batteries replaced. Callhoo callay! I haven't had a watch since spring of 2020 because both batteries died and I miss it so bad. Had actually texted my workman to see if, in between staining my front steps and lowering my hedge, he could maybe get me a watch battery? But he's tied up until well into September, and now I can at least handle the battery myself.
So to the grocers' for asparagus and mandarins. No apricots, my other seasonal indulgence of choice, but at least I can negotiate the store with my walker-- another narrow place that tends to fill up easily.
And then, to prove that I'm not a cripple even though I am, took sheets and towels to the laundromat in the late afternoon. Owner is still trying to sell it but has also fixed the many broken machines, so the experience wasn't as fraught as all that. Shopped at Fiesta while wash went through, got everything dried, came home. And because it had been eight hours since my last painkillers, knee acted up and back spasmed and I cursed all the way back (masks are so good at hiding this that I swear I'll never give them up) and manhandled laundry and groceries and walker into the house where the phone was ringing. Limp over to it, Hello? the usual silence. One more Hello?, possibly more forcible than the first, and then a man's voice- 'Oh, I didn't hear you pick up. This is Dave Blahblah and I'm calling on behalf of Steven Taylor your Progressive Conservative candidate---' I didn't slam the phone down. I yelled NO! and then slammed the phone down. I know elections are necessary but canvassing so is not. The Liberals called me last night and the NDP (what passes for socialism around here) the night before and I assured both of them that they could count on my support. Of course, then the NDP called me again half an hour later, trying to disentangle M Johnson from Jeanne Johnson but also wondering if John Johnson was around which no, he's never lived at this address and no, he doesn't live on this street or even in this riding anymore do get your act together, guys.
On the plus paw, surgeon's report said to walk as much as possible, so off I trundled to Bloor to check the balance in my non-online bank account. Balance is still good and will be topped up by the guvmint in a week's time. Trundled back over to Doug Miller Books which was empty enough that my rollator could get in, though I doubt I could negotiate the back reaches (detective and SFF) which are too narrow even for a backpack. Scored a copy of Bleak House that I may want to reread sometime just because, and an Elizabeth Peters from the $1 bin, and a Wayson Choy, and trundled on towards the greengrocers, pleased at how much happier my knees are in the returned dry. And as I passed various Korean stores, there by god was a sign: Watch batteries replaced. Callhoo callay! I haven't had a watch since spring of 2020 because both batteries died and I miss it so bad. Had actually texted my workman to see if, in between staining my front steps and lowering my hedge, he could maybe get me a watch battery? But he's tied up until well into September, and now I can at least handle the battery myself.
So to the grocers' for asparagus and mandarins. No apricots, my other seasonal indulgence of choice, but at least I can negotiate the store with my walker-- another narrow place that tends to fill up easily.
And then, to prove that I'm not a cripple even though I am, took sheets and towels to the laundromat in the late afternoon. Owner is still trying to sell it but has also fixed the many broken machines, so the experience wasn't as fraught as all that. Shopped at Fiesta while wash went through, got everything dried, came home. And because it had been eight hours since my last painkillers, knee acted up and back spasmed and I cursed all the way back (masks are so good at hiding this that I swear I'll never give them up) and manhandled laundry and groceries and walker into the house where the phone was ringing. Limp over to it, Hello? the usual silence. One more Hello?, possibly more forcible than the first, and then a man's voice- 'Oh, I didn't hear you pick up. This is Dave Blahblah and I'm calling on behalf of Steven Taylor your Progressive Conservative candidate---' I didn't slam the phone down. I yelled NO! and then slammed the phone down. I know elections are necessary but canvassing so is not. The Liberals called me last night and the NDP (what passes for socialism around here) the night before and I assured both of them that they could count on my support. Of course, then the NDP called me again half an hour later, trying to disentangle M Johnson from Jeanne Johnson but also wondering if John Johnson was around which no, he's never lived at this address and no, he doesn't live on this street or even in this riding anymore do get your act together, guys.