Just as a coda to my joke about lifting $60 worth of groceries, I rewatched that ancient movie, Yours, Mine and Ours, from the sixties, on Friday afternoon, after all the cooking.
It's a Hollywoodized version of a much grittier real life story where a widow with eight children, Lucille Ball, marries a widower with ten, Henry Fonda. One scene shows the couple grocery shopping. Cart after cart at the checkout, three clerks assisting. Yards of register tape. Total $120. Just sayin.
I delivered slices of the lime cake to neighbors who were very happy, froze some slices for next time Handsome Son visits, and that leaves enough for me to enjoy. This is how you bake when you live alone. How I do, anyway.
The original recipe comes with a glaze, which I skipped, because I found in the past that the mixture of citrus juice and sugar triggers asthma. Probably just me.
And Saturday morning, cooler, sunny, perfect for my first solo walk on the grass.
No duffers out playing golf, but this is the last hole, so they're probably still slicing away on the first few holes.
Now I need to work on stamina. I'd like to revisit the pond before it gets too hot to go that far, so that's my plan. I went about a third of the way this morning. Working up bit by bit.
This is not in my plan, is she nuts?? No, she's working within her own ability.
I would be nuts if I tried it. Also my PT would probably fire me.
Happy day everyone, inch by inch, life's a cinch.
