- Today was H.'s 55th birthday, and I made him the French apple tarts I first baked for him when we were dating. They're his and now Figgy's favorites--even over a devil's food cake, which I simply cannot fathom. Give me a fork and a wedge of devil's food any time over something made with an ingredient as wholesome as fruit. That's the sad truth.
- We can finally pay some big bills--after months, things moving along with H.'s book contract. Huge relief.
- It was a beautiful day and I rode my pink bike with basket to our appointment.
- Figgy sold a shirt in her Etsy shop--a sale that she has to pack up and mail from the post office. In person, she has also sold a pair of shorts to one friend and shirts to two others. Here are links to the POST I wrote about it in July, and to the SHOP, just for eye candy.
- I ate a 300-calorie bag of sea salt and vinegar potato chips at lunch in the sandwich shop today. I don't like to use the term "bad" with eating, because we're all human and have to forgive our missteps, and because eating a bag of chips is not a major character flaw--but it's not ugly enough to be ugly, so it has to be in the bad category.
- The reality I faced in couples' therapy today--about my work, or lack of it, and the problems it has caused. And what I should do about it. Tough pill to swallow. Not sure I agree with the hard party line. Will contemplate, and try to pray for quiet answer.
- Coincidentally or not with Ugly #1, it became evident today that we are not yet out of the woods, no siree Bob, with a health problem and its rippling effects--like when you skip a stone, and it travels far beyond the spot where it originally touched the water. [I never knew how to skip a stone, but Fig's cousin Will skillfully taught her up in Maine when they were both little, and I watched.]
- Rode my bike.
- Showed up @ two tough appointments. That's no small potatoes.