Off the Cliff

 Quiet uneventful dayss, between the inclement weather and trying to get the body accustomed to water pills. I did go out for dinner on Christmas day,  a forgettable restaurant meal marked only by extreme indulgence-- cocktail! wine! and a bag of chocolate mint cookies, all scarfled inside a day. Indulged further by bumping the thermostat to a stifling 18C/ 65F. So I was comfy while the freezing winter winds continued to blow. But my back was very unhappy about me walking in boots, and the corner of Bathurst and Bloor was a horror, as ever in a western wind.

Yesterday I cooked my boxed turkey which rather hit the spot. Really what I want these days is meat, and a turkey roll provides just that. Roasted a sweet potato as well, which caramelizes no matter how much water you put in the pan and is... well, sweet. Shall make a salad with the half I didn't eat since I have sunflower seeds and dried cranberries to use up.

A while back I bought a new sinus rinse bottle and sachets, and kept telling myself to open and use them, and didn't. Until at last the allergy cough, caused by chronic post-nasal drip, reached the point that it woke me at night. So I opened the box, to discover that what I'd bought were 300 sachets, and the bottle pictured on the front was a special! offer if you did such and so. Thus today was a trip back to Bathurst and Bloor to get a proper kit from the pharmacy there. And since my back was being much more cooperative, another block took me to my second favourite Japanese restaurant, where I had a bulgogi bento and another two glasses of wine. (I may have to cancel eating out, since I seem unable to resist ordering alcohol when I'm there.)  I wasn't keeping track of time so arrived right at the lunch hour, when all of Toronto was rejoicing in its freedom and, well, going out to lunch. So the restaurant was crowded and service a bit slow, but I was sitting in the glassed-in front area where enough fresh air came in that I felt reasonable in taking off my mask. The new immunization-resistant variations are a bit worrying: which is another reason not to eat out.

 Doorbell rings. I grump my way off the sofa and limp to the front hallway and even though my porch is dark, I already know who it is. Two guys wearing broad-brimmed hats. It's the Orthodox Jewish missionaries again, though why they operate as they do mystifies me. Wish me a happy Hanukkah (or Pesach or Rosh Hashanah, as per season), ask if I'm Jewish, turn away and head down the steps when I say no. Pretty scattershot approach, that. Especially as they're going to ask my Turkish next door, Iraqi Prof north of him,  Lutheran Swedes north of that, and then into the Italianate portion of the block.

Though now I think of it, do the Orthodox proselytize? I thought not. But do Messianic Jews dress Orthodox? This is confusing.

Fifteen minutes later doorbell rings again. Am tempted to ignore it but it might be my garage tenant coming early, so grump me off sofa etc etc. And it's Sadie's mom from the south wishing me happy solstice and giving me a frozen mini-pie to celebrate. So that's ok.