Light dawns. Twice.

Yesterday Gary was able to come over and replace the ceiling light that I'm returning, for the new one which should install better.

This was after a trip to Florida to renovate a friend's kitchen, home to tend a sick granddaughter, dentist for serious work, and who knows what else. He's a universal caregiver.

And he replaced the old badly designed light with this, which will most likely stay up. No books you say? Two jammed cases of them behind the photographer. And in the foreground the library table handmade by artist/contractor friend Michael from an old section of wood and scraps from the workroom. I use it all the time.

Back to the light installation. It did involve his partner, two stepladders, a lot of climbing up and down, holding wires and shining a flashlight, because dark with the breaker off,  to handle the wires, repeated searches for glasses, screwdrivers, straight slot and Phillips, but they succeeded.

Partner had just come over innocently to return a container from those filled pastry shells I'd taken over. 

Partly to give me an account of how good they were, how fast they'd gone, partly to do her part for the supply chain. 

Without containers, how could I keep up supplying treats, after all. And she ended up, as people always will around Gary, handing stuff, looking for stuff  and climbing ladders. 

Once the light was safely up and the people safely down,  I asked him about the suddenly nonworking outlet in the kitchen, which we'd talked about before. 

After thinking about it, plugging this and that in here and there, resetting the GFCI yet again, to no avail; he said oh, maybe there's another GFCI in here.  Other end of the same counter.

Pushed it in, problem fixed. I never knew, and I've owned this house for well over 30 years.  Even painted over them, you'd think I'd have noticed.

Not too observant. You could definitely have introduced a giraffe out there and if I was cooking it would go unobserved while I walked around it assembling ingredients.

Report from the repaired face: healing, looking more like a face, despite lurid areas, bp more predictable. No pictures, to spare the sensitive. 

I'll be quite good at applying the dressing by the time I don't need to any more. Round your nose and across under your eye is hilly terrain, slippery with Aquafor, to apply a flat, nonstick, dressing and tape it down to be airtight. 

I'm pretty dexterous and I do wonder how all-thumbs people manage. The instructions do emphasize getting an airtight seal for healing. As if, when you're also eating and the whole area's moving gently however carefully you proceed. 

The stitches, now that I can see them, are tiny and beautiful. Augurs well.

I saw a great program about ancient hats of the Silk  Road today, much photo editing to do, organizing sorting out thoughts, and I'll  get it to you.