Friday, February 05, 2021

Buzz, Betty, And a Band-Aid

Things continue to buzz right along. Early on, I turned my attention to veggies, preparing my roasted tomatoes and onions, plus two pounds of carrots. I decided go savory in the slow cooker this time, so skipped the citrus and added Italian seasoning, plus my saved veggie liquid. Those two were cooked and in the fridge by 10:00 am.  Later, I cut my red potatoes into chunks, added oil and fresh rosemary, and popped them in the oven. I love roasted potatoes; in fact, I love roasted anything.

I sent an email to realtor Kim, along with the first rental flyer. I also told her about the fans that Eileen installed. Let's hope she doesn't take them. If she does, she's responsible for having the ceilings repaired and re-installing the kitchen one. 

My niece, Joan, called and we had a good talk about my Uncle Frank's farm. She remembers her mother, my older sister, talking about going there. He wrote out his memoirs; in fact, I looked that up on this blog and found what I copied below. I'll send Joan the link to "Uncle Frank's Farm."

After lunch, I bussed to the library in town to return the Enlightenment Now book. Picked up the two DVDs I had requested, then walked down Main to my usual bus stop. I didn't ride it back to the transit center, though; I got off on Loma Vista to go to another branch of The Market. I hoped they had the rice cakes I like in, which the closer one didn't. Happily, they did, and I bought some, plus grapes and blueberries. Skipped the bus and walked back to the transit center, so in all, I got my three miles in.

Niece Carolyn texted me last night to ask if she could bring Betty today at 10 to visit, sitting outside, of course. Sure, although I have T.O.P.S. at quarter of nine. I'm not sure why she didn't ask to come at lunchtime, as we had talked about, but if this is better for her, it's okay.

Um...as for the skin problem at the injection site: I was debating with myself whether to go back to the fairgrounds and ask if it was anything to be concern about, or to call my doctor. I figured I could Zoom her a picture. I ran my finger over it again--yes, tiny dots in a perfect circle...hm...I hadn't seen it too clearly before, but now I noticed it was a pale beige.  Hm, again...and it was raised a bit...OH, GOOD GRIEF!!  It's a band-aid! 😜 

Forty or more years ago, my Uncle Frank had written out his "memoirs" (well, that's too grandiose a word) what he remembered of the Byrne family's years on the Domino Lane farm in Roxborough. It's an absolutely charming account, partly because he didn't try to *W*R*I*T*E*, but just put the words down, one by one, using an old manual typewriter. I used to visit him, Aunt Claire, and his beloved daughter, Judy, my cousin. One day, Judy asked if I wanted to read the manuscript. Of course, I did, and loved it, especially as my father was mentioned. Uncle Frank told me I could keep it and I took it home. Ten years ago, after they had all died, I made up a blog called "Uncle Frank's Farm" and recorded it word for word, except for a few minor typo changes. Later, I added some shorter family reminiscences by my Aunt Mary and Uncle Ed, plus a piece by cousin Judy on the home care of quadriplegics, which she was.


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Satisfying Saturday

 I did it, I did it, I did it;                                                                                                              ...