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Sign of the times
Well, the For Sale sign is up next door. I expect the house to be snapped up immediately and succeeded by many months of renovations, because I don't think the inside has even been repainted any time in the last thirty years. Mind, neither has mine, and it shows, but I didn't raise a family in this one.
Inordinately stiff and achy yesterday and today, and most grateful for the half hour massage this evening that I managed to book on the weekend. 'You're all bruised,' she says, poking at my hip. 'I suppose it's the tennis balls I use to work out the muscle knots,' I said. Very embarrassing, because I tend to get bruises whenever I try any kind of acupressure on myself. And then a small interior voice said, 'You *do* remember that fall you had in the yard on Monday?' Tripped and landed on a low plastic slide while going to rescue one of my babies who'd got himself upended in one of the play cars. (He does this regularly because he goes backwards, as they all do, but at great speed, because he's a cannonball.) Getting up off the ground was difficult because it always is, but I didn't think about it again after that. The nicest of the new staff called me next day to see if I was OK, which was sweet of her, but reminds me that in other people's opinion I'm an ancient old woman who needs to be looked out for. This might almost persuade me to lose 30 pounds and have my knee replaced, except the first involves compromising my quality of life and the second risks compromising my knee. Anyway, presumably my fall has come home to roost, so I shall have a hot bath and double Robaxacet tonight and sleep sweetly.
Got in touch with one of the masonry companies about my front step. They were cheerful and obliging and will only charge me $2300 plus HST rather than $2500 plus. This is the state of home repairs in Toronto these days- what the market will bear and oh! but it will bear a lot.
Reading-wise, I finished two late Ruth Rendells on my tablet and am reading a third now, since summer has me in its grip. A waste of the current brief cool spell, but too bad. I work slowly towards the end of Waning of the Middle Ages, to have it finished, now he's talking about the art that was the core of his original thesis, and work slowly through Gideon the Ninth, now she's talking about buildings and furnishings rather than her highly unlikable characters. Progress, progress.
Inordinately stiff and achy yesterday and today, and most grateful for the half hour massage this evening that I managed to book on the weekend. 'You're all bruised,' she says, poking at my hip. 'I suppose it's the tennis balls I use to work out the muscle knots,' I said. Very embarrassing, because I tend to get bruises whenever I try any kind of acupressure on myself. And then a small interior voice said, 'You *do* remember that fall you had in the yard on Monday?' Tripped and landed on a low plastic slide while going to rescue one of my babies who'd got himself upended in one of the play cars. (He does this regularly because he goes backwards, as they all do, but at great speed, because he's a cannonball.) Getting up off the ground was difficult because it always is, but I didn't think about it again after that. The nicest of the new staff called me next day to see if I was OK, which was sweet of her, but reminds me that in other people's opinion I'm an ancient old woman who needs to be looked out for. This might almost persuade me to lose 30 pounds and have my knee replaced, except the first involves compromising my quality of life and the second risks compromising my knee. Anyway, presumably my fall has come home to roost, so I shall have a hot bath and double Robaxacet tonight and sleep sweetly.
Got in touch with one of the masonry companies about my front step. They were cheerful and obliging and will only charge me $2300 plus HST rather than $2500 plus. This is the state of home repairs in Toronto these days- what the market will bear and oh! but it will bear a lot.
Reading-wise, I finished two late Ruth Rendells on my tablet and am reading a third now, since summer has me in its grip. A waste of the current brief cool spell, but too bad. I work slowly towards the end of Waning of the Middle Ages, to have it finished, now he's talking about the art that was the core of his original thesis, and work slowly through Gideon the Ninth, now she's talking about buildings and furnishings rather than her highly unlikable characters. Progress, progress.