* I harvested garlic, zucchini, beets, banana peppers, daikon and D'Avignon radishes and daikon pods, cayuse oats (which I mostly gave to the chickens), a few late peas, lettuce, arugula, and a handful of borage flowers today. Here is the salad I made for dinner. It is better than your salad :)
Figure One: So. Damn. Good.
* The mysterious blister-y underboob rash is much improved; I don't know if it was heat rash or fungal or contact dermatitis or what, but have been applying antibiotic AND antifungal ointments, and wearing two undershirts (one under my bra and one over it, which one of you suggested) to work. I'm not sure what about the whole thing horrified me most--the pain of the BLISTERS, the fact that Dr. Google was convinced it was some weird-ass manifestation of psoriasis, or that I found that there are disposable, stick-on sweat-absorbing doo-dads made especially for preventing this type of scenario, and BOUGHT SOME.
* Middle Child is away for a week at Boy Scout camp. I'm not sure how I feel about this, particularly since The XY wouldn't pass along any contact information, but Middly was very excited to go and presumably someone will let me know if he gets eaten by a bear? This is the part of divorce I hate most--in order for the boys to have experiences I can't give them, like camp, and beach vacations, and flying on planes, and fishing from boats, I have to turn them over to The XY and his G/Fiancee and/or his foul mother and hope for the best. I hate it, and sometimes I question the wisdom, like when they all come back horribly sunburned or with stories of Little Child almost drowning and/or shooting a REAL GUN (both when he was THREE), but if I say no I know they'll miss out on something they wouldn't otherwise get to do. So usually I say yes.
* I don't want to jinx anything, but it appears that a specific, hand-to-find probiotic I researched to death, which has been studied and found safe for use by transplant patients and seems to have near-miraculous results for a lot of folks with gastroparesis, GI neuropathy, and/or pseudo-obstruction and related conditions, is actually helping Hotter's endless GI woes. He's spending somewhat less time in the bathroom, and no longer feels full after only a few bites of food, and has gained five pounds so far. I'm cautiously optimistic that this will help him put some weight on (he had hit a low of 125 lbs, which was kind of horrific--he looked like a prison camp refugee) and give him some reserves in case he gets sick. I think half the reason they admitted him and kept him so long with the pneumonia even though he improved by almost 100% after twelve hours on IV antibiotics was that he looked like he was THISCLOSE to dropping dead of sheer frailty. I'm also hoping that maybe better nutritional status will help keep the horrid neurological issues away (he has, knock wood, only had one very mild episode of psychomotor fuckery since coming home from the hospital).
* Things at work continue to be on the upswing, with some stuff that had become a daily annoyance having improved greatly and other issues at least less glaring. I think we as a group at Eclecstasy had "slipped" a little in some of our practices to give guests a "wow" experience when they walk into our restaurant and look around, and am heartened to see Management taking steps to help us all remember to represent the company favorably at work. I was super-proud and impressed to be hired last year, and then some things happened both individually to me and collectively with our particular staff that were rather offputting, but that all seems to be working itself out, or at least making progress toward doing so. Yay!
* I wanted to go ahead and say the above NOW, because I am working a double tomorrow and may return home a) having drunk my feelings at the bar crawling distance from Casa MFA** and b) having changed my tune and taken even more of a bitter disliking to ALL MANKIND.
* Which will take some doing, because when Hotter and I went downtown to Local Teaching Hospital to have the ambulatory EEG removed from his person on Friday the patient parking deck was full and we had to use the hospital valets, and they LOST THE MFA MINIVAN. Now, as y'all are aware I have worked as a valet before. I therefore have about as much sympathy as anyone is liable to have for the plight of valets working in hot weather and having to hoof it to an overflow lot, HOWEVER. After forty-five minutes if you have still not produced my got-damn vehicle I am going to comment witheringly while waving my ticket stub that it's just SUCH a shame you don't number the cars to prevent bringing the wrong one and having to go back, and when that goes right over your stupid little pinheads, you same six mouthbreathers who have been standing around the whole time to the point that I know ALL of your business, I am going to call Patient Relations and demand to speak to someone who deserves a head and get your fee waived and your boss's boss to come and find my vehicle, KTHXDIE. I was in a foul frame of mind all the way home, but cheered up after lunch with a good friend and went to work my usually sunny self (oh, shut up, I am known as a very cheerful and positive person there, which is to say that I have a good gameface and have taken the innernet's excellent advice to, when I am inclined to say "fuck you," say "okay, great!" instead, which actually does work if one's goal is to hide one's seething misanthropy behind a bright smile and heavy makeup).
** Probably not. I don't want to spend money on that right now because things are a bit tight in the wake of Hotter's and my lungs and the washing machine all trying to die with varying degrees of success over the summer so far, but no bills are currently past due and I think after we get through this month, BARRING FURTHER FUCKING DISASTER, we'll be good.