And some errands and a few household taks: I've been very quiet these last couple of days.
Had a videochat with the doctor this morning; he is a pleasant and knowledgeable fellow but there are moments when I want to reach through the ether and strike his hand with my cane when he begins fussing with his... can never remember the name. The ear things. I had to go online and look about; gauges, we are meant to call them, if I've understood aright. I attribute this-- that he fusses with it (or them: I haven't paid that much attention)-- to nervous energy or just nerves; why he should be the one experiencing 'nerves' I don't know. I'm the one with thyroid hormone out of alignment and a lack of fish oil in my diet. Something like that; the worst that goes on is to do with my left hip joint, somehow-- and I don't see the orthopaedist until July so it would do me very little good to become anxious about that.
Am not a well-behaved patient. He finished this morning by warning me off too much carbohydrates (all is good but there is a wide range to 'good', after all, and I stand in the sector of the range closer to 'watch out for the insulin uptake being interfered with' than to that ideal middle where the bliss of perfect health dreams away her life): what do I have for dinner an hour ago? potato gnocchi, and too much of it. Eh.
In about half an hour, I can telephone the jury selection people to see if my lucky number 245 has been chosen entitling me to advance one step closer to jury service. Have been waiting for this day since 1975 (and have been registered to vote every single one of these 45 years); it will be one of those disappointing ironies of life if I'm not called, or if the plague has derailed my jury trial.
Am really too dense sometimes. Not able to wait for twenty minutes to call in, it finally occured to me to look at the Circuit Court's jury page.
Had a videochat with the doctor this morning; he is a pleasant and knowledgeable fellow but there are moments when I want to reach through the ether and strike his hand with my cane when he begins fussing with his... can never remember the name. The ear things. I had to go online and look about; gauges, we are meant to call them, if I've understood aright. I attribute this-- that he fusses with it (or them: I haven't paid that much attention)-- to nervous energy or just nerves; why he should be the one experiencing 'nerves' I don't know. I'm the one with thyroid hormone out of alignment and a lack of fish oil in my diet. Something like that; the worst that goes on is to do with my left hip joint, somehow-- and I don't see the orthopaedist until July so it would do me very little good to become anxious about that.
Am not a well-behaved patient. He finished this morning by warning me off too much carbohydrates (all is good but there is a wide range to 'good', after all, and I stand in the sector of the range closer to 'watch out for the insulin uptake being interfered with' than to that ideal middle where the bliss of perfect health dreams away her life): what do I have for dinner an hour ago? potato gnocchi, and too much of it. Eh.
In about half an hour, I can telephone the jury selection people to see if my lucky number 245 has been chosen entitling me to advance one step closer to jury service. Have been waiting for this day since 1975 (and have been registered to vote every single one of these 45 years); it will be one of those disappointing ironies of life if I'm not called, or if the plague has derailed my jury trial.
Am really too dense sometimes. Not able to wait for twenty minutes to call in, it finally occured to me to look at the Circuit Court's jury page.
There are no new jury trials the week of April 20-24, 2020
Jurors summoned for April 21st, 22nd,
23rd, and 24th are excused as not needed.
Pft. Pft. Ah, well. 245 was not so lucky after all; as not needed.
The squirrel took the peanut I threw out for it and hid it or buried it. The Steller's jay, however, was observing this and did, I believe, fly over to try to recover the delicacy as soon as the squirrel had left it's prize and rushed back for another nut. No idea whether the jay would dig about in the ground if it knew the nut was buried there: perhaps he was simply hoping that the squirrel left it unattended. The female jay-- presumably the mate of the male but what do I know about the habits of Steller's jays?-- has been becoming a bit bolder as she claims the occasional peanut. Still, however, she won't alight on the bench seat out on the deck and seems to prefer a vantage twelve or fourteen feet from my window. The male and the squirrel will advance right up to it; indeed, the jay made me almost drop the mobile telephone when I was watching Dr M. fidget, swooping down directly to the window before realizing that there was no place to perch except for my desk or the window sill and abruptly fluttering back up to the eave of the roof.
Nothing connected with jays or squirrels that I could think of.
***
Comments
Post a Comment