Three years away, she had to reestablish herself as a local patient. Every officially first-time appointment takes longer. Today was the day three departments  wanted to see her, and a twist of fate was such that I got to drive her.

We had to be on the road by seven, then again in the early afternoon, and then, different city and rush hour, the last one, which we actually got to three minutes early. Yay.

The first one, um, tried.

The others were great.

A motion-sensor chime went off: someone was at the door. I went to go retrieve the package-?

He’d been nicely groomed and you could see his sweet face. His tail was wagging happily at the sniffing all the new smells: roses! Holly bush! Azalea plants!

I walked to the front of the house to see if the little guy’s owners were coming right up behind–I know he’s always on leash when they’re on walks–but they were nowhere in sight.

He ran next door and that had to have been even more fun because they have a white dog about his size. Who was not coming out to play; when I called, he came back over to me.

Not the least bit skittish. He let me pet him. (So soft!) But I had no leash to help take him home.

And then he sat. And looked up at me. He seemed to be expecting something.

Would he let me pick him up? He would, quite happily, that tail and those big eyes and lashes looking up into my face as if he’d discovered his very bestest friend and I always thought he was cute but let me tell you, that little dog melted my heart right there. He didn’t wriggle nor try to get down, he was where he wanted to be.

Nobody answered the door at his house.

I finally stepped back a bit and saw that their gate was open. Mystery solved. I walked over there thinking I would put him down in there and quietly close it behind him, but a plumber was on the other side of the yard and I got glimpses of the neighbor on the other side of him.

I called out his name: Would he like his puppy back?

The two of them walked over towards me, chuckling, and the neighbor took up his small dog fondly into his arms and I had to let it go.

It was a three-cookie-sheet-puzzle night with a side of spatula-ing.

I was still coughing, I didn’t want to infect anybody with this, and Tuesday’s doctor appointments start half an hour after sunrise, so I took it easy and watched church by Zoom again. Old dear friends were in town, it turned out, and I missed them, but I’m glad I didn’t pass anything on to them; they matter more than my getting to see them.

The fridge door wouldn’t close. There was nothing in the way. We finally tried leaning against it a moment and it thankfully stayed shut after that.

This had to be tracked down.

And so the lower drawers got pulled out, even though it’s hard to with that door not quite opening wide enough ever, and scrubbed and dried and re-organized.

You know those single-servings of guacamole that Costco sells?

Three had fallen behind the back of the drawer, pushing it forward. There’s your easy fix.

But look, Mom, she said: the glass shelf. It’s tilted. The supports are not even to each other anymore.

Oh well. It’s 32 years old.

It looked really great now and the door shut just fine. Call that one user error.

Still. If anyone has good things to say about any manufacturer whatsoever who actually responds to warranty complaints with integrity–but whose refrigerators seldom need such–I would dearly love to know.

Nice old house.

And then you get to picture #6 and go: what on earth?!

Next you notice the books on the shelf to the right leaning and tilting forward to match the threatened trajectory of the ceiling that is just daring that next earthquake to come mess with it.

At first I thought it was the edges of countless old books dangling down and thought well that’s one weird way to not toss them in the landfill, but no, it’s split firewood, ready for the wood-burning stove but stacked and nailed in waves to the ceiling with the stove’s pipe upwards directly touching them.

I remember my dad’s big stack of firewood in the backyard and how it became prime chipmunk and bird habitat and who knows what all else and wishing I could see what it felt like to go inside and nest in there and explore all the little places.

Well there you go!

I have questions.

Grapes have zinc. Zinc helps fight off colds. Grape smoothies. Placebo effect is traditionally 50% so I figure we really can’t lose on that one.

I have half a hat that needs to meet its other half. Old Neighborhood Fiber Co stash.

Today was a secondary infection day with a side of severe dehydration. I’m glad I got through it.

Update: and this morning (Thursday) is starting off much, much, much better.

Project Notes:

Malabrigo Rios, Hollyhock, size 7 US (note that I knit very loosely), I cast on 80 and did diamonds in multiples of ten for three full diamonds, at which point on the row immediately afterwards I did a yo before and after the sl1-k2tog-psso at the tip of the diamond on what would have been the wrong side row if I hadn’t been knitting in the round.

This made diamonds in multiples of 12. It also meant every other diamond in that section had a bottom half longer than its top half, which showed a lot to my eyes while I was knitting it, but after rinsing and drying I had to look closely to even notice. So: I did one and a half full diamonds in the larger size and managed to win at yarn chicken with several rows’ worth to spare.

Next time I’ll cast on 90, even though that won’t get me as much length, in order to make a looser neck.

I really should go run in those ends.