Ray's House of Love Vol III

I guess so, since I head about again tomorrow morning. We debated skipping Toronto--two trips so close?--but I'm glad we didn't.

I'll be back March 1, and may stop in from time to time while on the road. We shall see, yes? Hotel internet is so often spotty.

Maryn, escaping winter

We have reached our destination du jour. The good folks at Google maps did not assist us, however, instead directing us to drive in a loop around and back into the massive airport rental car lot not once but twice, using different exits and streets. It was one of those things where you laugh to keep from losing your shit.

Today we had lunch by the water and watched pelicans and tourists. It took nearly twice what we estimated to reach our hotel, one lane with heavy traffic most of the way, but we made it. Our hotel room was 77 degrees inside, but it's cooling a bit now. And soon we'll go out to dinner and a look around.

I kind of wish I were writing, but I can't do it very well when we travel.

I have returned. There is much laundry awaiting my attention. Anybody want to add to the bleach load?

Maryn, competent

Well, you shouldn't have been aimin' at me, missy!

Mr. Maryn and I have done the impossible--agreed on drawer pulls. It's amazing the sheer quantity of such things, and while our tastes usually align pretty well ("Any of these three is fine."), on the cabinet he built for our eensy-weensy master bath we could not agree. I am, however, pleased at the prospect of getting my makeup moved off what little counter space there is.

Seriously, the entire bathroom, which includes a shower, is 6x6. I have pretended to bite Mr. Maryn's backside through his jammies when he decides to remove his contact lenses while I'm peeing. Easy reach.

Maryn, TMI

Don't let swimwear get in your way, ladies and gentlemen. We have these cheerful striped towels for the modest.

But we need our hot tub--it's 23 degrees and windy, spitting just a little snow. I'm quite cozy so long as I'm submerged.

The better to see you, my dear.

Maryn, cackling

We can arrange that. The pool boy needs to sweep the concrete first, of course.

I'm thinking of you and your hip this afternoon. My bad knee has become the evil knee, on strike and refusing to hold me up. This makes life ever so much fun.

After a day of occasional practice, I have achieved minimal competence with a cane. I had one from Goodwill that I intended to do Something Cool with, paint or perhaps decoupage, which turned out to be twelve kinds of handy. It's even the right length for me, now that it has a new tip. (Which cost more than I paid for the cane.)

I'm thinking if I need to keep using it, I might attempt a crackle finish, probably black over blue. Plus you can buy a decent looking cane for $13 online. I can get them to match all my clothes, right?

Maryn, who plans to call her doctor tomorrow

Because zero is at the end, which defies logic but follows custom.

I saw the doctor yesterday and got a referral to an orthopod, which sounds like a crustacean, doesn't it? My doc thinks it's a torn meniscus, just age and lifetime use and not related to a specific injury or being heavy (whew!), but other possibilities exist. I see a person Friday for the initial exam which will determine what X-rays and MRIs I need before I see an actual orthopod.

Today's master plan is to clear floors and the kitchen table so I can do my share of house stuff without falling over and breaking my neck. Mr. Maryn has so far been patient and willing to do all the shopping and cooking, but I don't expect that to be a permanent dealie.

It's going to be sixty here today, and warmer tomorrow. This has been a ridiculous winter. I blame myself. We hired a snow plow contractor for the season. He's only been here four times.

Maryn, calculating the price per plow and sobbing

Cook out?

We are trying a new recipe tonight, grilled porkchops that will have marinated all day in a brown sugar-mustard blend. Mr. Maryn has to go to the store, though. It's like half a jar of mustard, which is a three-month supply around here, maybe longer.

My knee doesn't hurt when I kneel, so we think today might be the day we start pulling up wall to wall carpets to see what kind of shape the hardwood floor is in. The carpets are shot to hell, and I'd like area rugs and bare floor rather than re-creating the 80s look. This is step one of the downstairs renovation we want to do. Things are really dated and worn out. I want new window treatments (what we have is so fussy and I've hated it from day one), new flooring in the entryway and kitchen, and new wallpaper and paint, plus a tile backsplash which Mr. Maryn says he thinks is a decent beginner project. (I want him to practice on a tabletop or something first, though.)

Let the fun begin!

Maryn, who may commit to draperies even though they're a bitch