Just got back from walking the dog in the deluge. It was fun being out in such a downpour--for the first three minutes. We were both grateful for the activity, however brief and chilly. And Rex smells better for it. It's been a pretty cozy but sedentary weekend. The most notable thing from yesterday was a great blue heron that warily followed Rex and me on our walk. A striking feathered beast, almost four feet tall--I think it was curious about us too. Rex finally couldn't take it anymore and half-heartedly charged it, forcing it to flap up and glide away just far enough that Rex couldn't follow. It wasn't there today, unfortunately.
M's knee injury is the big news around these parts. He overdid it at they gym last week and hurt his "good" knee--he had to be carried out by an ambulance crew it was so painful. He went to the ER, then to his regular physician, then to an orthopedist, and got his first of two MRIs last week. Another MRI happens Tuesday, and surgery at some point next week. The sooner the better, we have that trip to Tahoe planned at the end of the month and he needs to be mobile for that walk over the state line to the casino. On the bright side, he's pretty entertaining when loopy on ye olde vicodin. Apparently, the orthopedist has "the good stuff."
Adding to last week's excitement, as I was driving to work Thursday morning, I didn't even make it to the office before the monster mobile decided it needed some quality time with the mechanic. I had felt something funky with the engine during the drive home from San Jose the night before and frankly was grateful it hadn't strand me in the dark, rainy south bay. I had a big meeting in the City that afternoon, and ended up taking the bus into the SF to attend and driving home with my boss (no way I was driving M's rattly deathtrap stick-shift there). Thank goodness there was a break in all the rain that day--I just picked a street corner upon which to debark the bus and it took a few minutes before I could grab a cab to the meeting.
I got the Cadillac back Friday afternoon, but even that had a scoche of drama. The bill was a less than I thought, but my malaprop-ly voluble mechanic complained not once but twice about the crappy spark plugs that "someone" had put in last time. I didn't say anything, but--of course--he was the one who had replaced them. When I got home, I dug out the bill from three years ago and--of course--he had charged me for the swanky plugs. That made me sad. In the main, I think he charges a reasonable amount, and the shop is close to my house, so he often picks me up and drops me off when M can't--as he couldn't last week. Wondering if I should call him on it. Or find another mechanic. Or just let that sleeping grease monkey lie.
Happy National Poetry Month!
