Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
You already know about our Monday if you read my previous post, and if you didn't read it, that's fine. Go back to sleep.
I have decided to return the new thermostat, although I'm no longer angry with it. It functioned as a dog guide would when the dog refuses to cross the street with the blind person because the dog knows the street involves complicated instructions and has wiring and is difficult to put up on the wall successfully. I was convinced of my infallibility after hooking up and repairing some stuff. I've decided, however, that my abilities do not extend to something that involves wiring. The new thermostat spurned my advances, thus keeping me safe. The air conditioning worked fine after a visit from Son Of Dean. If the heat continues to act up in the future, I'll request assistance.
Today was again sunny, but a little cool. I didn't accomplish much after staying up late the last two nights.
On Sunday I finished my taxes. Hallelujah. I didn't get much of a headache, and I'll get a bit of a refund.
I'd been saying that if Harry and Meghan wanted their privacy, then they shouldn't have agreed to an interview with Oprah. I watched anyway and understood why they agreed to talk. I grasp the desire to say, That's not true. I didn't do that. Quit lying about me.
Sometimes we have to defend ourselves, especially when family refuses to do so and might even choose to believe the lies no matter the evidence.
The sun and I drained Lake Junebug, but the mud remains. This afternoon Franklin rubbed his neck and one side in the muck. He smells nasty and will need a shower.
I'm sorry to tell you that Carol's great-granddaughter is still blind in one eye and has little sight in the other. Carol said the young lady's hands also shake badly. Damn COVID all to hell. Damn the former president who allowed it to run rampant.
I put power steering fluid in the car and it no longer moans and complains. That's a triumph.
I got the second dose of Shingrix on Friday, in spite of a pharmacy tech who couldn't seem to do anything right, which included his inability to cover his nose with his mask. After much blather and repetition from him, he finally figured out I have insurance. I confess I became annoyed after the 10th or 12th time he told me my insurance card would have a bin number and Rx on it and mine didn't have it. When he came out from behind the barrier to talk to me, I became disgusted and told him to cover his nose.
Carol called yesterday to tell me she heard on local news that next week the vaccine will become available to people older than 60. I have to wait four weeks after the Shingrix shot to have the COVID vaccine, but at least when those weeks have passed, I should be able to get my shot. Woo-hoo to that and woo-hoo to you.
Now it's time to warm up some supper. I have some bills to scan and paperwork to fill out related to the attack so now that my taxes are done, that's the next item on the agenda.
See you soon.
Infinities of love,