I rolled Mr. Toro II (snowblower) back to the shed for his summer
vacation today. Siphoned out the fuel tank, carb was already dry.
I'll change the oil next fall. Old retired Mr. Toro is in the back
yard getting rained on. Neighbor Con has some stuff to take to the
recyclery on recycling day this coming Saturday. I volunteered my
truck to haul his stuff and mine if he'd help me load Mr. Toro.
There's often a two-hour wait, but I can sit in the truck and read a
book as the line creeps forward. If Con wants to keep me company
great, and if he has a better use for his precious Saturday time
that's OK with me too.

I made a double batch of fish creole today, had two sons, one
daughter and son Kevin's girlfriend Kelsy join me for dinner. I'll
bet I spent 45 minutes chopping vegetables. Julia Childs would have
had the lot chopped in 5 minutes, I'm less proficient -- thus far. I
can walk for an hour with no problem at all but standing in one place
for 45 minutes hurts my back. Always has. By the time the creole
was ready to go into the oven I was ready for a sit and a glass.
Karen cooked the long-grain white rice in a pot and did a superb job
of it. I wasn't sure if everyone would like the creole, though Mary
and I always did. It's a bit of a surprise because it isn't spicy
cajun but kind of mellow and a bit sweet. It actually does have some
white pepper and cayenne but it doesn't taste peppery at all. It's
sort of a tomato-based fish stew. We also had a spring greens
tossed salad with sliced baby portabello mushrooms (those that didn't
go into the creole), red onion, tomato and a vinaigrette dressing,
and a crusty baguette warmed in the oven and served with Irish butter.
I planned the menu and did the marketing. Karen cooked the rice,
whisked the balsamic vinaigrette and tossed and dressed the salad.

Judging from the amount left over from a double batch, they weren't
just being polite when they said they liked it. There might be one
serving left in tupperware in the fridge. Next time I'll make a
triple batch because that dish is actually better on the second day. I
usually would rather cook again than eat warmed-up leftovers, but
this stuff is a definite exception.

Tomorrow, Karen plans to take me to an accupuncturist. I've always
regarded that as hocus pocus but I'm willing to keep an open mind. If
its effectiveness is rooted entirely in psychological placebo effect,
I'll take it! Kev said it has helped him with some sports-related
pain issues from time to time, though no substitute for medical
intervention when indicated and appropriate. What I want out of it
is reduction of anxiety, increased tranquility. I could probably get
tranquilizers prescribed easily enough but I don't want that. I was
on Librium for maybe half a day back in '80 when I was going thru
divorce and (I thought) loss of family, didn't like going thru life
seeing thru Vaseline-smeared lenses and threw the pills away. Some
alcohol after wine-thirty definitely helps, but I don't want to have
each day be merely an uncomfortable existence until that hour and I'm
not about to start drinking at lunchtime -- except maybe a cold beer
with lunch with friends. Some of my preferred activities are
decidedly and emphatically zero-tolerance incompatible with alcohol:
shooting, making ammo, welding, operating machine tools, etc. I'm
not yet back to any of those but I think I will be soon.

I carried my pocket .38 on my solitary walk today for the first
time post Mary. I've kept up my daily walks but haven't carried to
date because I thought getting clocked by a mugger might be an exit
welcome to me and acceptable if painful to my family. Today I
decided my family deserves far better than that from me after the
incredible support they have provided me. I am back to not being
easy grayhaired prey on the trail.

I'm still operating one day at a time. Took me months to recover (to
the extent that I did) from my heart surgery with Mary's constant
support. She rode the mower around the yard that summer, cut up
some storm damage with the Stihl chainsaw, etc. Recovering from
my loss of my Mary with understandably less constant support from my
remaining family, who have daily work obligations and their younger
lives to live, may take longer and be more difficult. Gawd, how I
miss my Mary. Gettin' old is not for sissies.

OK, I'm a lookin' for a DF machine design to chop salad or an outo
acupunture machine.

Karl