A Painful Day

On Thursday, Becca wanted to go to IKEA.  As usual, I wanted only one or two IKEA things – two actually – scoops for flour, sugar, and the like, and a sieve for sifting powdered sugar.  Also as usual, I bought many things I absolutely didn’t need, with Becca encouraging me all the way.  She, the one who initiated the trip, showed great restraint, and mostly bought just what she came for. I bought my sieve, but there were no scoops.  So everything else you see in the basket was some unnecessary frivolous thing that I didn’t need.  Then we went to the nursery looking for Shasta daisies.  I had previously unsuccessfully looked at two posher plant stores, and then decided that perhaps Shasta daisies are a flower appealing to hoi polloi, and so went to the, in this case, more aptly named Lowes.  There we found some lovely ones, as well as some exquisitely scented mint. 

Planting the mint was no problem.  But the daisies – another matter altogether.  They required that holes be dug.  Big holes.  My gardening assistant, always about when I don’t need him, and never when I do, was, naturally, nowhere to be found.  So I had to dig my own holes.  The ground where I wanted the daisies was hard.  Very hard.  I struggled.  I sweated.  I conquered.  But at what price?  It was a Pyrrhic victory.  Later that evening, I could barely walk.  All day Saturday, I lay about and read a book (or two.) I had lots of plans for Sunday, and they all involved walking.  I couldn’t even go to church.  I finally had to go out for provisions, and took the car – a thing I seldom do, and had vowed not to do during our Camino pilgrimage.  Today, I am feeling much better.  Some time ago, just before an opera performance Rebecca gave me some magical powders that cure all aches and pains. I had had a backache for days, and was whining about how difficult it would be to sit through the opera, when she brought out a little bindle of powder. I was a teensie bit skeptical, but she assured me that it would be okay.  The bindle looked suspicious, but it was all legitimate.   Apparently, these powders are more popular in the South, and she had gotten some from a southerner nurse friend at her job.  It was astonishing!  Not only did my back feel better immediately, but it kept feeling better.  Until Friday, that is.  Now, the powders are probably eating a hole in my stomach, but they are certainly making me feel a more mobile.  I plan to be totally well tomorrow.  

A voggy day

Somehow, I haven’t been in a bloggy mood, but I thought I had better update you as to my whereabouts. I have just been basking on the lanai, and am about to dash out to the pool, here in somewhat voggy (Heaven be praised about that – you know how I am about hot weather) Hawaii!
We arrived on Tuesday, and as a trip to Ikea wears me out (see below), you can imagine my condition when we arrived here after a zillion miles and a thousand hours in a way too cramped airplane. I am recovered except that I went to bed at nine last night, and woke up at five this morning. This is definitely not my style and is also not convenient. I will probably adjust just in time to come home and be maladjusted again.
A little late, I brought Christmas presents to the kiddies, Miranda and Kekoa. I got Kekoa a giant spider to assemble, and a 3-D Mirascope, which was a great success with the adults, who were amazed by the frog which was inside it, but seemingly was sitting on top of it. He was so real that one tried to touch him. Alas, he was but a mirage. En route, my aunt Pauline had said that her presents were much more humble, being gifts to her from charitable missionary groups she had contributed to. None the less, Miranda was quite pleased with her necklace from an Indian mission, and the angel night light was a great success with Kekoa, who is becoming very interested in body parts. He immediately fixated on the angel's cape, which he thought looked like huge blue bosoms. He burst into uproariously gleeful laughter and couldn’t (or wouldn’t) stop, until “no dessert” was threatened. He was so thrilled that he remained slightly giddy for the rest of the evening.

A shopping day

Monday was the first day in a weeks that Rachael, Rebecca, and I all were not working or doing some other even more important activity. Hence, the long awaited (by Rachael, maybe by Rebecca, definitely not by me) trip to IKEA. Rachael needed items – mostly bookshelves – for her new independent living situation. My theory of shopping is “go in, grab what you want, pay for it, get out.” Anything else is torture. Rebecca and Rachael wanted to look at every single thing in the at least fourteen mile pathway through the store. My apprehensions about the tedium of the day grew even graver when they stopped to actually read some of the books that were for sale. They took copious notes, compared, contrasted, and debated. I tried to doze over the shopping cart. Eventually, I became fascinated by a family, the mother of which had on shrink wrap white pants, and stiletto heels. She had a husband and several small children in tow. She looked to be quite happy and not suffering at all, despite small children and ridiculous footwear. While rubbernecking at this group, I lost the girls who were no doubt examining the joinery of some shelving. What to do? Making a quick decision, I took the cart, which as yet had nothing in it, went to the cafeteria, got some lunch, and read my book. The trip was looking up. They caught up with me, got themselves lunch, and while we ate, told me of their discoveries and decisions, and then we forged on together, the majority of the shopping decisions having been made. I purchased a packet of Swedish Fish, and some cookie cutters. Usually, I never get out of IKEA without severe sticker shock when my purchases are added up, so I was happy to have shown such restraint. In the way back, we took the scenic route, and drove along Lake Washington boulevard. The day was beautiful, the birds and boats were out, and it was all in all a lovely end to a pleasant day.
I had given up Spider Solitaire for Lent, and planned to play a game when I got home from the Easter Vigil. Given that I was about to drop dead at that time, this was not practical. So I played my first game when we got home from IKEA. Why do I waste so much time on the mindless, yet ever fascinating activity?

A spendthrift day

I have been having a “nothing-to-blog-about” few days lately – mostly just working. On my day off, Rebecca wanted to go to Ikea, and I agreed to take her although I did not need anything from there. I so thoroughly planned to show restraint that I didn’t even take a shopping bag with me. I did not need one single thing, and the only money I was going to spend was to buy us lunch. We love Ikea lunch, especially the vegetarian lasagne – the best anywhere. I always have a terrible pang when I see the pickled herring – one of life’s little delights and one of my few vegetarian sorrows. As we rolled our cart along, Rebecca pointed out this and that which she was sure I really needed, and generally managed to convince me. I came home with a ton of stuff, and she was delighted at my downfall. I found a nice rug for Tom’s room to replace the $3 Ikea rug that was already there, and Rebecca found a nice medicine chest for my bathroom. This was something I really did need, as Rachael has a vast collection of facial and body potions. The cabinet we have, if it could even be called a cabinet, is quite minute. I went into the bathroom to imagine it in the spot where it was to be, and realized there was an electric outlet there. Boo! I got a very ugly but very utile bag for my choir book and choir necessaries (tissues, cough sweets, knitting, etc.), a special teapot for when Ana and I have flower tea, (“You got a special teapot for tea with one person???” Rachael asked incredulously. “No, it’s for a special sort of tea that I only drink with Ana!”), and this last little purchase, one of the prizes of the trip – what could that be? Why dog-walkies cleanup bags, of course.