foomart foomart

 Sunday, August 14

I ended up going to E's place in Chelsea yesterday, ostensibly to help organize stuff there, but ended up just making and eating a nice dinner before I came back here. I'm going to start cooking more meals for him and A. Neither one of them is really into cooking and they tend to eat nutritionless junk like broth from a packet, aka sodium with some chicken flavor in it. Now that A & J are going to be spending a lot of time at their new house upstate, that source of veggies will be mightily diminished. So I'm going to start making nutritious meals he can reheat easily, try to get some quality brain food into him and do what I can to lessen his intake of the White Devil. Not that I think it'll turn his dementia around at this point, but maybe it'll delay the decline a little bit, and every little bit must help.

But today the cleaning continues; I tackled the big bathroom and it's an awful lot nicer in there. I took out about a pound of cat hair and soap scum and it's actually a place you would want to spend some time in now. Which came first, the clean tub or the peaceful mind? I think the FlyLady has a point with her clean sink thing; it's a mirror of your mental state. Who's to say there's not a feedback loop there, where the one affects the other? I think house cleaning crews should be covered by health insurance. It's so easy to get overwhelmed by mess to the point of paralysis, but just digging out from under it is so calming.

It's still hot as a motherfucker here, but we're supposed to get some thunderstorms tonight which I hope will cool things down. And then I'll take a bath and shave my legs. (In a macho, athletic, Breaking Away/swimming the English Channel kind of way, of course. The fact that I'll be sitting in a Hollywood-starlet-level bubble bath has nothing to do with it. (Note to self: no more Lush stuff until all the current stock is gone. Seriously.))

12:29 PM

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