Off the Cliff

Entering the supermarket today, I was greeted by the inimitable strains of Love Hurts. Am happy that Fiesta isn't playing Christmas music, unlike Loblaws (they will, Oscar, they will), even happier that the first two people I passed were singing along sotto voce. As was I, of course. Always impressed by the staying power of my generation's music, because both those people were in their 20s or maaaybe early 30s. Fiesta is a death trap these days, because not only does it have cake slices and chocolate chip cookies from my youth, it has tempting displays of chocolates and candies that, if bought, I end up eating in a sitting, like those dark chocolate and praline medallions the other week. I have to tell myself sternly that it's no sugar, period full stop, no discussion no argument, and hope that I listen to me.

Also got towels and such to the laundromat in between showers. Rain is forecast for the next week and of course that means leaves catching in the walker's wheels and slowing my progress, as well as the anonymous brown slick which might be leaf mulch but equally might not, dog owners in this town being as they are.

This was all the more virtuous because my joints are reacting badly to the cold and damp. At least I hope that's the reason and not that my right knee has run its course and now requires a replacement. Sunday's masseuse found any number of huge muscle knots in that leg which might account for some of the stiffness, because my left leg is also limpy today and that knee should be perfectly fine.