Thanksgiving and a sore back
This has been a disappearing day, with no visible progress on anything except resting my sore side.
Last Wednesday I tripped and slid on my walk, then went through the air like a flying giant before crashing into the north porch post. Fortunately the post weathered all that and still stands.
However, my right side just below the lowest rib speaks strongly to me when I am trying to employ the body parts in that area for locomotion or changing altitude.
The discouraging thing is that the pain level has not moderated significantly after eight days. Lots of those hours have been spent conniving to enable an elderly patient to change position with a minimum amount of squawking from his lower right back.
We had Thanksgiving dinner in Skaneateles with Bill and his family on Turkey Day.
Molly is the pie maker of the clan and I look forward to special occasions when she can be persuaded to make a pie or two. Any variety will do. Apple is high on my list, but I have never been known to refuse any pie that she has made.
On Friday, Sue and I went to Stonington, Connecticut (Jay) and Providence, Rhode Island (Curt) to huddle up with the other two families.
I lay low this morning, watching the waves tumble along the shore.
There were white streaks of bubbles jiggling along, one fairly close to shore and another about 100 yards further off.
They did not seem to move in and out much, but by 3:30 p.m. only one streak was left and it was about 150 yards offshore.
It is a puzzle to me as to what causes the stripes and the way they come and go. I suppose the stripe maker in the sky thinks that folks on the west side need something to talk about.
If we had a boardwalk along the shore, some codgers of my acquaintance could lean over the rail and discuss the quality and quantity of these mysterious stripes made up of bubbles.
If any water specialist has an explanation for some of these optical happenings in the wind and the water, please pass it on. If you have some old tales or beliefs, shoot them along and we can discuss them too. I know some of my readers are knowledgeable about the natural sciences or lake facts and wisdom.
A bit of wisdom would be a very nice contribution. It won’t be too long before the frozen lake or iced-up roads will be the basis of our conversations.
At this stage of my life, my passion for snow and ice has been tempered considerably, as has my lust for zipping around on skis. However, I am still excited by a good snowfall.
It looks beautiful and happy memories of heading down the slopes at Sugarbush in six inches of new powder pass by in the looking glass of memory.
