I have been craving ceasar salad for going on 3 weeks now. I had another just now and feel like I could eat another giant bowl. what is that about?
Natter 71: Someone is wrong on the Internet
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Huh. Micro-strokes are just a different name for mini-strokes. I've had a few micro-strokes. I've read these are more common than doctors used to think, thanks to the increasing number of MRIs being performed (which is how they found mine).
Heart disease and cancer are fairly rare in my family too. So I may stroke out too.
..my life really isn't like your lives, is it?
We did heat with wood when we lived in the country in a 1904 farmhouse and discovered that it would probably have been cheaper to heat the house by burning dollar bills than what it cost to heat it with propane. In Georgia, however, we never had to be quite that prepared. I found splitting logs to be rather soothing. At least it's exercise that accomplished something tangible.
I'm sorry the universe is piling stuff on you at such a rate, Consuela.
Fingers crossed for the home infusion option, ita.
Somehow I double-posted, several posts apart. Weird.
Somehow I double-posted, several posts apart. Weird.
Or one of your clones is running amok again.
I spent 4 years living in rural Maine as a child - we had a woodstove, although (unlike a lot of people we knew) it was not our primary source of heat for the house. I knew plenty of people with outhouses and/or no electricity (gas appliances and lamps) in Maine, actually.
So, the nurse says it's happening this weekend. She says the meds will whow up tomorrow, and a nurse will show up Sunday...and that's pretty much all I know other than sometimes the agencies over-promise.
That is good news! You should celebrate by getting a fade.
I knew plenty of people with outhouses and/or no electricity (gas appliances and lamps) in Maine, actually.
My grandfather in Georgia (my mom's dad) still had an outhouse when we first visited him in '67. And he'd just put in electricity about two years before that.
Hey, I get a steroid shot in my hip for my out-of-control sinuses! (I'm waiting for the nurse to bring the shot in.) Woo, steroids. I await the munchies and rage.
Yeah, it's not officially our primary, but it functionally is. First is the passive solar, which gives us about two degrees, even with only doing a one room solar slab. Then there's the woodstove. And then we have propane. But typically, the propane never kicks in, thus this year's big frozen condensate pipe ordeal.
I love it. It's a lot of work, and it's a little dirty, but I like the rhythm of it, the wood, building the fire, sweeping the hearth, emptying the ashes. There's something very primal about it, about being able to have warmth you can count on. About having to be aware of the seasons and climate and weather and time of day. Of seeing the tree grow that keeps you alive in the dead of winter.
This house's HOA prevents us from putting up an outhouse, which I resent. So I want to build a woodshed, and put the little cutout in it so it looks like an outhouse. Because I'm an ass like that. But seriously, it is so beyond me how I can be in Arizona so rural there is no road maintenance on one stretch because no one can agree on who owns the road, and yet have homeowners covenants more restrictive than when I lived in downtown Wichita or Indianapolis.