Last night the better-half touched my right elbow, which he has been trying to avoid since the accident, and I could feel the scab rip. Yes, this is going to be a gross entry.
Anyway, I was ecstatic and ran into the bathroom…he was slightly mortified. Another part of the scab was gently removed. Pink skin underneath! This morning when I was pulling on my shirt the last little bit of scab fell off to the floor. Whoohoo, now I just have a very pink looking spot on the elbow and I no longer have to worry about whether or not I’m banging into things, as is my wont.
We’re headed to Home Depot today to look for a transformer for the kitchen under cabinet lights. It blew about a week ago during a storm. If we can’t find a new transformer then we’re buying new lights. I am beyond missing having light on the counter-top. Did I mention I hate my kitchen? Because of this hatred, when one little thing is missing that makes it less loathsome it really gets into my craw.
Speaking of kitchen hate, a few weeks ago I was sitting on the porch and I heard a loud crash. I refused to get up because I was quite comfortable and I figured the better-half was in the house and he could take care of whatever was crashing. A few minutes later he came out to the porch carrying a cabinet door in two large pieces. The cabinet door under the sink doesn’t close very well (the problem most of our cabinets have) and he shut it and it popped open so he kicked it. The thing shattered. So now it is braced to the hilt on the inside and doesn’t close worth a darn. We have to firmly push it closed so the magnets grab hold. I was thrilled that he broke the cabinet and not me. I have a habit of going off on things like that so it was pure elation that he did it and not me.