I’ve been getting the allergy shots now for about three months, and with two exceptions, I have gone in dutifully, twice a week, because I am determined to stick to the schedule they gave me and get through this as quickly as I can. It’s not always pleasant, of course, since I tend to get lots of nifty reactions from the stuff they’re injecting under my skin, but I keep thinking about those damn sinus infections I get every year and that’s been enough to keep me on track.

Today when I went in, the nurse told me I’d progressed enough that I now only have to come in once a week. I’m not quite sure how they measure progression, since I have yet to have a single treatment where there haven’t been lovely hives at the shot sites, and about once a week or so one of the shots causes my arm to swell up, or gives me a serious case of itches all over my arms and neck. But aside from the swelling (which can sometimes last a few days before going away completely), the reactions have been only minor inconveniences. That is, of course, until today.

It started with the usual itching and hives that I get around the injection sites. But then the itching spread, and this time, instead of just dissipating after an hour or so it kept getting worse and worse. By the time I made it to the sushi restaurant where I met Richard for dinner, I was itching everywhere, and rashes were popping up on my arms and neck. I even had rashes on the palms of my hands, and they itched like hell. I tried to just eat sushi and hope it would go away but no such luck. By the time we were done eating I was about ready to peel off my skin in order to relieve the itching, and the rashes had been joined by some oh so lovely hives. I left Richard behind to pay the bill and headed home to take some antihistamines and then sit and wait and hope that it would kick in fast, all the while trying desperately to not scratch.

It took about half an hour before the meds kicked in and I finally felt like I was starting to get back to normal. There’s no more itching, although a few of the nastier rashes (like the weird ones on my palms) are still hanging around just to taunt me.

I’m really hoping this was just a one time fluke; that after this my body will adjust to the new dosage and the new schedule and go back to just occasionally turning one arm into one huge hive and leave the rest of me alone.

We were supposed to go to Apple Hill today. We sat down and looked at the calendar and figured out a free weekend and also factored in the knowledge that going up there before Halloween would mean crowds and heat and not so much fun, and this weekend seemed to be the best one. However, that only lasted until this past Wednesday night, when the representative from the Board of Trustees announced during the Admin Council meeting that they would be stripping and refinishing the linoleum floors today, and that Richard was in charge of coordinating that. Um. Oh really?

So…no going to Apple Hill today. Instead Richard got up early and joined some of the other men of the church for breakfast at our local greasy spoon (where they leave the toaster on the table for you and they tell you what you really should be ordering, just in case you thought you might want something they don’t agree with). And then after breakfast he headed off to the church and along with a small crowd of other guys, spent about six hours working on the floors.

I, meanwhile, decided that I might as well take advantage of all this free time I suddenly had. So I went to the grocery store and loaded up on baking supplies and came home and spent many hours baking pumpkin bread for the church bazaar in a few weeks. In between stirring and pouring, while the bread was baking, I sat upstairs in one of the glider rockers in our master bedroom’s bay window, and turned on the fireplace to warm up the room, and worked on the cardigan I am knitting for myself in a colorway called, amusingly enough, Pumpkin.

Pumpkin bread is a required food this time of year. It is dense and it is rich and there is nothing the remotest bit diet friendly about it, save for the fact that there’s about half a pound of pumpkin in every loaf. The whole house smelled divine the entire afternoon. I didn’t pay much attention at first, but when I ran out to get something later in the day and came back, the smell hit me the instant I opened the door. I kept telling myself that this was for a fund raiser, and somehow managed to wrap up all the loaves and stash them in the freezer without taking a single taste. There will be plenty of time for pumpkin bread later this month, once Thanksgiving rolls around the great day of overeating is upon us.

When Richard got home, I called around and found a place that could rent us a truck, and we headed off to Vacaville to pick up some shelves. I’ve mentioned before that we are gradually turning our spare room into a library. Someone on the Freecyclers list posted last week that he had a huge set of bookshelves to get rid of and I jumped at the chance. So after much emailing back and forth we settled on this afternoon for pick up. They are huge and heavy and far sturdier than anything we currently own. These are not kit bookshelves – these look like shelves that were built for an actual library at one point.

The pieces are all currently sitting on our front porch, where we put them for lack of somewhere else, in order to clear out the rental truck so we could get it turned in before they closed. We’ll move them upstairs into the library probably tomorrow afternoon and at some point in the next week or two we’ll put them together. They’re not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. They are old and they are beat up, and they’re not exactly the style we’re hoping for in our long-term vision of the room. But they are free and they are big, and for now – at least until we can track down a good carpenter and the funds to have what we really want custom built, they will do just fine.

It is Halloween, and we are sitting on our couch, watching various shows on HGTV, and occasionally hopping up to go toss Tootsie Rolls into bags held out by various costumed children. Our screaming doormat died on us last year, so this year we must make do with a marvelous skull that says clever and witty things when it senses shadows. This has the advantage of acting like an early warning system – if the stomping of small feet climbing the steps to the porch wasn’t warning enough. With few exceptions they are usually sidetracked by the talking skull and quite often spent a few moments trying to figure out how it works – giving us a few extra seconds to drag ourselves out of the couch and make our way over to the huge bowl of candy and open the door.

I played the piano in church today and although I very much wanted to play Danse Macabre at some point during the service I managed to find enough maturity to realize it would probably not be appropriate, and so successfully refrained.

Yesterday went to the kick-off party for Nanowrimo, which was held in an apartment in Sacramento surrounded by streets where you cannot make u-turns. It took us a while to eventually figure out just where the heck it was, but we finally made it. We recognized a few of the faces from last year’s Thank God It’s Over party, so we weren’t the only ones insane enough to try it again.

The coordinator had a few little games to play, ending with a contest for who could write the worst starting sentence. It came down to another woman and I – she eventually won because she pulled in the hamster sex card – but I think if it had been judged on sheer number of words in one sentence alone I would have swept it without any difficulties at all. I am nothing if not good at writing extremely long sentences if I put my mind to it. I’m sure it’s a skill that will serve me well at some point in my life. Or not.

This afternoon we voted. We’re both permanent absentee, which means if we were actually on top of things we could fill out our ballots and mail them in. But last year and this year we have left it to the last minute, and so instead of relying on the mail and hoping it gets postmarked on the right date, we’re just going to drop them off at the polling booth on Tuesday instead. So many issues to consider. So many ballot measures to ponder. So many things that reiterate just how incredibly close-minded and stupid the general public can be.

Over the past two days I have spent more time in a car than I ever really wanted to in the space of 48 hours. See, we had this grand plan that on the way home, instead of going the direct route, we’d meander down the Oregon coast, check out all the cute little coastal towns, and eventually make our way through the redwoods once we hit California, and end up back home refreshed after having such a scenic adventure.

Ha ha. This plan did not, of course, take into account that there would be a storm involving much rain and dreary grayness and people who do not know how to drive in the aforementioned rain and grayness, and also fog.

We got an early start yesterday, giving hugs goodbye to my little sister and niece, and drove off, armed with various maps of the Oregon coastline, graciously provided by my brother-in-law. It was starting to look a little ominous in the sky at that point but we didn’t think it would be that much of a problem. Ah well.

The Oregon coast is gorgeous, but then anyone who’s ever driven that way knows that. It’s lined with dozens of charming little towns full of nautical themed shops, and adorable bed and breakfasts. We stopped in Seaside for lunch because I wanted to check it out as a possible spot for future whole-family gatherings, but by then it was raining and pretty dismal. So instead of wandering around, checking out the town, we found a parking spot and dashed into what turned out to be a lovely little restaurant, where we had clam chowder and salads and homemade bread for lunch, and contented ourselves with perusing the tourist publications about the town instead of seeing it for ourselves.

I think if it had been decent weather we would have made far better time down the coast, but that wasn’t to be. We took a brief stop in Tillamook and found a little place that sold cheeses and jellies and other edibles, to pick up a few thank-you gifts for my parents, who looked after the feline horde for us while we were away. But then it was right back in the car, driving and driving and driving.

There are sea lion caves just north of Florence and we’d been hoping to get to them in time. But the storm-induced delay meant that they’d closed by the time we made it there. In fact, to make matters even more fun, not only did we have to contend with the storm, we also had to contend with impending road construction. Even though the highway wasn’t going to be completely shut off until later in the evening, a tunnel just before the sea lion caves was being worked on, and they only were allowing one lane to go through at a time.

Driving along the ocean is, at least, pretty impressive when it’s stormy. If there’d been more time, I would have liked to stop and just admire the view of the waves crashing against the rocks below. We did stop, briefly, at the sea lion caves, and peered over the railing, but didn’t stay outside very long because the wind was pretty fierce by that point.

After peering at the map and figuring out how much further we had to go, we eventually decided that continuing down the coast was probably not the best idea, especially if the storm didn’t clear up by the next morning. So instead we headed inland, back toward I-5, and ended up finding a lovely stretch of road that most tourists probably don’t see. It was off the regular route, so what few spots of civilization we spotted were mainly mining or factory type towns. But in the evening, with the fog rolling in, and the mountains and the trees all around, it was just gorgeous. We made our way to Eugene and tracked down a fast food place for dinner, managing to get pretty soaked in our brief dash from car to restaurant, since it was pouring by then. And then once we finally figured out how to actually *get* to I-5, Richard called ahead to the place in Ashland we’d stayed before. Luckily, it being the off season, they had a room, so we slogged on through the rain and got to the hotel to spend the night.

Today, of course, the weather decided to play nicely again – probably because it knew that we had given up on our coastal meanderings and so there was just no point in all that grey and gloom any more. The drive was fairly uneventful, because I-5 just is not the most exciting highway to drive along. But there was one nice surprise. As we headed through the mountains, and came up on Shasta, we started seeing snow along the road. Turns out that storm (or perhaps an earlier one we conveniently missed on our drive up) had dumped quite a lot of snow in the area. The plows had obviously already been through, so it wasn’t a problem on the road (lucky for us since we don’t have chains for this car!), but it was just breathtaking. Eventually I couldn’t stand it any longer so we pulled off at the next exit and found a place that looked mostly untouched, and we got out to tromp around in the snow and take pictures. It was as if we were walking around in the middle of a Christmas card. There was a little path I could see, off the side of the road, and I surprised myself by managing to take this shot, which turned out far better than I could have hoped. The fog was just clearing from the trees, but enough remained to provide that misty feeling. It made me miss living in snow.

So now we are home again, having put close to 2000 miles on the car. The cats are thrilled to see us, of course. There is laundry to do and mail to sort and groceries to purchase before we get back into our regular routine. I wish we’d had more time to explore – there was so much of Oregon we didn’t get a chance to see. But that will have to wait for our next road trip, which is not going to be for a while because I think if I have to spend another 18 hours at one stretch in a car, no matter how lovely the scenery outside, I may go ever so slightly mad.

After spending a fairly relaxing day just hanging out with my little sister and her family, we spent today (or most of it) running around Seattle. Richard had never really seen Seattle, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve done more than just drive through it in passing. So this morning, after inhaling a marvelous homemade coffee cake, and large quantities of coffee, we all piled into two cars and headed off to the city.

My little sister and my niece rode with me, which suited my niece just fine because there were toys for her to play with and things to chatter about. The drive into the city wasn’t too bad since it was a weekend day (and thus less rush hour traffic).

We started with Pike Street Market, since any trip to Seattle must include at least one trip there. I remember wandering through this with my uncle, back when we used to go up and visit him, but it’s been quite a long time. Richard got a kick out of the fish market (and the way they fling the fish), and my niece was quite taken with the big brass bear that sits just outside the market.

We mostly just meandered through the market, and then through various shops around the market. There was a brief detour into a tea store, where Richard bought some kind of tea that is very, very strong, and only he liked (the rest of us took a whiff and shuddered). Then we had to stop by the chocolate store right next door, which apparently just opened. We picked out an assortment of truffles to try for later, and escaped before any of us broke down and ran screaming amid all the goodies, smearing chocolate all over our faces and taking bites out of everything. But it was close. Chocolate stores are dangerous places, after all.

It was fun wandering around all the little shops and booths, checking out all the merchandise. We found a little Italian place for lunch and had calzones and cheese pizza, crammed onto rickety stools around a tiny little counter in the very back of the store. We found a coffee shop and drank coffee and chai tea and split huge pumpkin cookies while waiting for Lark in the Morning to open so we could meander around all the really cool musical instruments. And then there was a hasty lesson on how to use the Seattle bus system, since it was getting to be nap time for a certain four year old niece, so we hugged my sister and brother-in-law good bye and found a nearby bus station, and they left us in Seattle to entertain ourselves for the rest of the day.

Richard really wanted to check out the new Science Fiction Museum, and I thought it would be fun to at least meander by the Space Needle. So we managed to figure out the right bus to take, and it took us straight to the City Center. Since it’s Sunday the place was mostly deserted, but that was actually rather nice (neither of us is big into crowds). It was actually pretty cool – although it might be kind of boring for the non-nerd type. Mainly it’s exhibits – classic books, manuscripts, television shows, costumes and props from various productions. The museum was set up to walk through the progression of science fiction in both print and film, focusing on different areas of the genre, such as horror, space travel, alien encounters, and so on. It was kind of fun to walk through and read all the snippets here and there. They have one of the (I think) life-sized aliens from the Alien series, stuck in a huge glass enclosure, and it was properly realistic enough looking to make a few of the younger visitors a bit wary.

After the museum we just wandered around the Seattle Center. We checked out the fountain, and stopped to chat with a man sitting on a bench playing his tuba. We ate ice cream in a huge food court area and watched little kids clamboring around in a play area down below. We found the little sculpture garden and walked through that. And eventually we figured out which bus to take to get us back to our car (made easier because I had carefully marked where we parked on the map).

We drove around downtown Seattle for a little bit, just to see more of the city. It was kind of cool to drive right by the new library, since I’ve seen pictures of it (and actually worked on an article about the building, and some of the rather unique architecture involved). And it was fun to play tourist, peering out our windows at all the buildings.

There was nasty traffic on the drive back to my sister’s house, and we did manage to get lost once, but eventually we found our way back. After my niece went to bed we watched Desperate Housewives, which Richard and I had not seen before but will now have to watch every week because it is so very funny and clever, and divvied up all the chocolate truffles (because the raspberry chocolate torte was just not enough for the weekend), and it was a fun day.

Richard and the cutest little four-year old niece, ever.

Despite what anyone might say about Seattle and its lack of pretty weather, I have visited my little sister several times now and experienced not only nice weather, but sun. Yes, actual sun in Seattle, for more than an hour at a stretch.

Saturday was a mostly quiet day. We slept in as much as our internal clocks – used to getting up early to go work out, or else used to being trampled by the cats, demanding attention and possibly treats – would let us. Then we woke up and said good morning to my little niece and lounged around in the living room while my little sister made us pancakes from scratch. She’s in school now to become a pastry chef so I suppose the fact that she makes baked goods from scratch is understandable. Fiona decided that Uncle Richard was great fun to play with (all the little kids seem to agree, after all). I watched them and worked on my cardigan, and chatted with my little sister and her husband.

After breakfast we drove around in circles for a while looking for a pumpkin patch that never materialized. So instead we went to a huge produce stand and picked out pumpkins from a massive display in every shape and size. It being Washington, they also had too many varieties of apples to count, and apparently Washington is also a big squash growing state, since there were varieties there I’d never even heard of.

After filling a cart with pumpkins then it was time for Fiona’s soccer game. When soccer is played by 4 and 5 year olds it isn’t so much soccer as a bunch of very small people running about in a slightly chaotic manner around on a grassy field, wearing little outfits that are far too big for them because their parents are hoping they can get through at least one season without having to buy new ones, and sometimes doing something that actually has to do with a soccer ball. There were a few that seemed to take it rather seriously and ran across the field with determined looks on their little faces, which made it even cuter.

The plan after the soccer game had been to carve the pumpkins and make homemade pizza, but when we got back to their house everyone was exhausted. So instead everyone crashed on their respective beds or couches and took a very long nap and by the time we all woke up again we decided to just order pizza instead. While we were waiting, there was more playing with Fiona, and more knitting on the cardigan, and my little sister and I made a chocolate raspberry torte. Or rather, she made the chocolate dough crust and poured things into the pan for the ganache filling, and I dutifully stood by the stove and stirred and we chatted about school and tarts and work and cats. Later on my sister very nicely let us log on to check our email because we are both big nerds, and it was a lovely day.

When we put in our order for the Prius we had hoped it would arrive by the time we went up to Ashland in May. Of course, that didn’t happen and it took two more months before it finally showed up at the dealers so we could drive it away. But that desire to take our cute little car on a road trip didn’t go away just because it came late. Add to that the recent opening of the new Science Fiction museum, as well as the fact that neither of us has spent much time (if any) in Seattle itself, and suddenly plans for this weekend’s road trip were born.

We packed up as much as we could on Thursday night, but the nice thing about driving, as opposed to flying, is that if you forget something you can always turn around and go back for it so there was no stress. I had to get up early anyway because I’d promised my mom I’d meet her at Curves to work out before we left. Once I got home from that it didn’t take us much longer to toss everything into the car and hit the road.

The first stretch of the drive up to Seattle is not very exciting, mainly because there is nothing remotely exciting about I-5 pretty much its entire length through California. I suppose it helped that we’d driven this part before, back in May, so had a better sense of how long it would take us to get to Ashland, and a few years back I flew up to Portland to meet Richard (who’d been up there for work) and we drove from Portland to Seattle to spend the weekend with my little sister and her family. It was just the stretch from Ashland to Portland that was a big mystery.

I drove the first leg, while Richard either dosed or read. He packed his mp3 player so I had plenty of music to sing along to. We lunched at wonderful little vegetarian restaurant in Ashland (their baklava was divine), and then got back in the car and drove and drove and drove. At one point, back when I had no idea quite how long it would take us to get from Ashland to Portland, I suggested we might have time to swing by Powell’s books, which I have heard great things about but have not yet seen. However, we didn’t hit Portland until long past dinnertime and by that point it was dark and raining and I was sick to death of being in the car and most of all I did not want to make my little sister have to wait up for us until the wee hours of the morning just so we could stop and see a bookstore. So we stopped off at a Denny’s for dinner because it was right off the road and then we got back in the car and peered blearily at the directions and a little less than three hours later we were pulling into their driveway and finally there. No matter how much you are looking forward to seeing the people you are going to see, or how much you love the people you are in the car with, 18 hours with only one break is a very, very long time to be stuck in a car on the road.

Today started far too early for me, especially since we were up late going to a movie last night. But I wasn’t about to miss practice, no matter how badly I wished I could just stay in bed. So instead I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed and zipped off to go scrounge up some breakfast and some coffee, and then joined the other early birds at the church for our monthly recorder ensemble practice time. That was followed by practice for the instrumental ensemble, and then church, and it was only by the time the service was mostly over that I felt as if all the caffeine had finally kicked in.

This afternoon I headed back to the church, but this time to make use of the nice big kitchen, especially the nice big six-burner stove. We had a slightly smaller group this year for the jelly making, but it turned out that four was the perfect number. And having all the pomegranates pre-juiced made such a big difference.

As it was it took us three hours to make all the jelly, and we were busy that entire time. We had two huge pots in the back to sterilize jars and give finished jars the required water bath. On the front burners we kept two batches of jelly, rotating things around as timing required. Occasionally someone would come in to see how (and what) we were doing, but mostly it was just the four of us, talking, laughing, making jelly, and generally having a wonderful time.

It’s a funny thing about cooking and baking and canning. There’s something very soothing about the process of making things – especially pretty things like jelly. And to be able to do it with friends is even better. We talked about other jelly possibilities and decided to try to organize another weekend of jelly production (although this time something slightly less time intensive than pomegranates!). I’ve been toying with the idea of trying to whip up a batch of spiced apple jelly at home, just for Richard and me, but doing it with friends sounds like much more fun.

We made 62 jars of jelly this year – about 2 batches more than last year, I think – and stacked them all in a cupboard at the church. Later on we’ll add labels and decorative tops and price tags and feel that sense of accomplishment when every single jar is sold at the holiday bazaar. It’s a long and tedious process but once it’s done there’s this strange little feeling of euphoria that makes us just want to do it again.

After the jelly making, Richard and I followed one of our friends back to her mom’s house, because her mom has five little foster babies. After everything that’s happened the last few weeks with our cats, I was in desperate need of some kitten therapy, and her mom knew that. So she let us in and we sat on the floor of the kitchen and played with babies.

Oh, they are just so precious. Four of them are all thick furred – two white with tabby patches, one white with calico patches, one little black baby with white toes and white whiskers. The fifth is a scrappy little dilute tortie who feels that the best way to absorb enough food is to stand directly *in* the plate and squish as much as possible between her little toes while eating.

It’s impossible to be sad when you are being used as a jungle gym by five little fuzzy balls of pure whiskery cute, especially when those little tykes have *just* gotten enough coordination to figure out how to pounce and skitter. I just wanted to stick them all into my pocket and take them home with me so I can take them out any time I need more kitten therapy. There’s just something about tiny babies that makes everything seem okay again.

I woke up this morning surrounded by cats, since it’s started to get cooler and that means more feline snuggling in our house. Then we headed off to get hair cuts because we both were in desperate need of them. There was a short period of wait between Richard’s and mine so we took that opportunity to swing by a nearby mall and meander the Halloween decorations at Target. A very goofy metal spider (which doubles as a candle holder) and a wonderful black metal tree with glowing eyes had to come home with us. Then it was back to the shop for me to get my bi-yearly trim, and we headed for home. Except on the way I suggested we swing by CostCo, and while we didn’t end up buying very much there (beyond making a ‘lunch’ out of all the samples around the store), as we were pulling out of the parking lot, I spied a Grand Opening Sale sign at a new furniture store and we decided to go in, just to look around.

Famous last words, right? We left with a gorgeous sofa table in the trunk of the car, for an unbeatable price. It matches absolutely nothing of our current living room furniture, but it’s the style we both love and it’s what the living room is going to be filled with, some day, probably years from now. And one does not pass up on incredible bargains when both of us fell instantly in love with it.

Back home Richard decided to head off to Borders to do some writing, and I stayed home to tackle phase 2 of the pomegranates, which was to drag all the bags of seeds out of our freezer (which seems so amazingly empty now that they are gone) and boil them down for juice. I don’t have any cheesecloth, but I’ve got a pile of cloths I use for cooling cookies during the winter baking season, and they were thin enough to work. So I lined a colander with one of those, and as each batch finished cooking I poured the mess of seeds and liquid into the colander and then commenced the tedious and slightly painful process of squishing all possible juice out of the (very hot, because they had just been boiled) seeds. It took me a few hours but I managed to juice them all (and filled two huge pitchers with pomegranate juice. Richard’s timing was perfect; he came in just as I was finishing the last batch.

My parents went to Apple Hill, which was amusing because we’d originally planned on going there ourselves today, but decided against it because we weren’t sure we would have been able to get there. There’ve been some pretty horrible fires all over the valley over the last few days – so many and so fierce that the air was thick with smoke and ash in the Sacramento area most of Thursday and Friday, and freeways were closed further north and east. However, my parents made it up there despite all that, and what was even better, they brought us back caramel apples from the place that sells the best caramel apples in the entire world. Naturally, we had no choice but to eat them immediately. Since it was dinnertime, those became our dinner. The apples are always so juicy and the caramel so rich and buttery and they are a complete sweet and sticky mess to eat, but oh, they are so good.

I decided I needed to get at least a little knitting done so I finished off a baby blanket for a friend’s soon-to-be-born little boy, and then because we both love cheesy zombie movies and because the previews looked like it would be fun, we decided to go see Shawn of the Dead.

It was marvelous. There were some wonderfully funny parts, but there were also some deeply poignant sections too. Despite the fact that it was a zombie movie, and a zombie movie turned comedy at that, it was actually quite well done. As much as I enjoyed the remake of Dawn of the Dead, I think we both liked Shawn of the Dead more.

I’ve been avoiding going to the gym for the past few months because I really have not been enjoying it at all. A few weeks ago my mom asked me about Curves, since there’s one in town, and so last week we started going together. And this morning after doing a free week’s trial (mainly to see if my mom liked it) we finally signed up for good.

Yes, I know that I quit Curves earlier because it had gotten too easy, but I figure the important thing is that I at least get some regular exercise, and while the gym might be a better workout, it’s not any kind of useful workout if I’m just not even going. Plus having my mom do this with me means that we can’t just roll over, smack at the snooze button on the alarm clock, and tell ourselves that we’ll just work out another day.

All this is just to explain why it is that I finally got around to getting my very first mammogram. Curves had a special where if you showed proof of a mammogram, they’d waive the service fee (which, at $150, was enough money to convince us we might as well suck it up and go do the damn exam). I called, expecting I’d have to wait a few months, but ‘luckily’ they had some cancellations so I got mine yesterday morning.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. You hear horror stories all the time about cold metal plates, lots of painful squishing and manipulating of appendages that were not meant to withstand that sort of abuse, and so on. But either I just got lucky, or those machines have been drastically improved over time. Granted it was more than a little disconcerting to have to stand there while the tech poked and prodded to make sure everything was in the right position for optimum squashage. And it was especially ‘amusing’ when I was told for each shot to ‘just take a deep breath and relax’ – not so easy to do when one corner of the thing is digging into your armpit and a large machine is trying to turn one of your breasts into a pancake. But it was over quickly and I saved myself a pile of money by getting the darn thing and I’m sure it will make my doctor happy and at least now I have it out of the way and will (hopefully) not have to do this again for a number of years.

And in the meantime I am back to exercising regularly, at the ungodly hour of 6:45 in the morning, three days a week, because we are all about being healthy around here, by golly. Yay me.