Wednesday, Sept. 7

Had trouble going to sleep last night, but I got up at 6:30, anyway, to get ready to go to water aerobics. I wasn't sure I'd feel up to it, but Hubbie convinced me I should go.

The pool was very chilly today. We're convinced the temp in it is dropping every day. We're told a part for the boiler has been ordered. It can't come fast enough.

Up til today, I've been able to tolerate the water once I was in it for a while, but today my chin began trembling and I thought my teeth would chatter before the session was over.

Twenty-one of us braved the pool. And we had to squeeze into a smaller area, because a swim group failed to take down ropes on two lanes after they were done with their session, and we couldn't find the tool necessary for releasing them.

I was glad I wore my fleece outfit again this morning. It felt really good for walking back to the van after the session. But I was still chilled when I got home, so I downed two steaming cups of coffee, before I hit the shower. After I stood in the hot shower for several minutes, I finally warmed up.

Once I was ready for the day, Hubbie and I ran errands...to a grocery store to pick up a loaf of bread for Mother, to a pharmacy/grocery store to pick up prescriptions and on-sale low-sodium chicken broth, and to the radio station to exchange tickets to a Branson show.

The show for the original tickets we picked up isn't playing on any of the days we will be there. So we exchanged them for a 50s music show. The receptionist said those were the last two tickets for that show. Usually, each ticket admits two people, but as we were driving down the road, I noticed that these admitted only one per ticket.

So we turned around and went back to the station and exchanged the tickets for another show that does admit two per ticket. This show is a noon lunch performance of a ventriloquist that includes trained dogs, puppets, and singing and dancing.

In the "Say What?" department: while at the station, I asked the receptionist what the business would do about mailing its weekly advertising supplement/newspaper if the post office is forced to shut down.

"The post office is going to shut down?" she asked.

"Well, according to the news, if Congress doesn't help bail it out, it will supposedly only be able to operate until the end of September," I said.

"Oh," she said, "I didn't know that. I don't listen to the news."

This from an employee of a radio/tv/newspaper business!

From the radio station, we went to a gas station, and then, since it was nearly noon, to a fast food restaurant to pick up cups of chili. Mother was making her way across the yard when we returned, and she joined us for lunch.

After lunch, we resumed our errands...to a farm supply store to take several cans of dog food back, in hopes we could exchange them
for a bag of bird seed. The store clerk was happy to oblige us.

Then it was on to the WDCS to shop for ourselves and Mother. Here, Hubbie got a refund on a dozen small containers of specialty dog food.

At the store, I also picked up a paperback copy of "The Help." The last time I paid full price for a novel was when I ordered a couple for Hubbie last Christmas. The price of this novel wasn't exorbitant, but I'd still prefer to borrow books or buy them on the cheap at book and yard sales. After seeing the movie, though, I was anxious to read the book, and I began it as soon as we got back home.

Reading a book was a good thing to do today, since I'd run out of steam by mid-afternoon. Mother started a jigsaw puzzle, and Hubbie spent time at the office computer upstairs.

Supper tonight was leftover soup from yesterday, served this time with bread and peanut butter. Mother went home afterward, Hubbie went out in the yard, and I played on my laptop.

Later, we watched a 2002 movie..."Below," starring Matthew Davis and Bruce Greenwood. Strange things happen on a WWII submarine.

Well, phooey: on the way to the pool this morning, I noticed a small animal had been hit. It had been run over so much, that nothing much was left, but I thought I detected a gray fuzzy tail. I feared it was the newest addition to our outdoor cat family...a stray that wandered to our yard and decided to make it his home.

He had taken up residence on Mother's porch, and she had been leaving food and water there for him. She'd grown fond of him in the short time he was here, but she said our other male cat did not love this new male intruder, and kept threatening him.

This morning, she noticed the gray cat ambling down the driveway, and she went out and tried to call him back, but he just kept going. Fortunately, she didn't see him get hit. Hubbie checked the animal later and thought it must be that cat, though, because of the gray fur and because we haven't seen him around today.

A little farther down the road, I noticed that a fawn, still in spots, lay dead in the ditch on the other side of the road...another victim of the dangerous highway in front of our house.

On a light note: at supper tonight, Hubbie looked at my hair and smiled. I thought he was admiring the shine of my coif. But what he was really looking at was the fly that had landed there.