Salamander
Fire Walking

I met up with Dr. Twenty Cats yesterday. As always, we had quite a bit of catching up to do over lunch. After we ate, we spent a little time mall-ratting at our usual haunts, including the obligatory trip to Littman Jewelers. I think it's probably a sign that you visit a store way too frequently when the sales staff all know you by first name. I resisted the call of baubles this trip, but got to share vicariously in the thrill of purchase because Dr. T-C found what had to be the best deal in the store. She spotted a white gold ring set with tiny sapphires and diamonds. The price was far less than either of us expected it to be. Sapphire is her birthstone anyhow, and so she made it her own.

Even on "good" days I get tired very easily now. Dr. T-C was patient, though, and didn't mind my frequent stops to sit down and rest. My disability parking placard proved to be of no help though, because all the disabled spots at the mall were already occupied. Walking through parking lots is the worst ... there's no place to sit down and rest so you just have to keep plowing ahead. It isn't my liver that will be the death of me, but rather an impatient mall motorist following me down the aisle of the parking lot in hopes of getting my parking space.

Dr. T-C and I then went over to the airport she flies out of. She'd offered to take me up if the weather was nice, but in spite of the sunshine and blue skies the winds were gusting to past 18 knots, crosswind to the runway, and she decided not to go up. This, of course, was fine with me. I want my pilot to be absolutely comfortable with the conditions. (grin)

While we were at the mall resting on one of the benches yesterday, Dr. T-C and I overhead a group of teenage girls giggling about something or other. I heard one of them announce how proud she was that they had handled the situation so maturely. A rather lengthy conversation involving self-congratulation then ensued. Dr. T-C and I ended up being the ones to get the giggles over it (fortunately, the girls didn't notice). I suppose that anyone who has to congratulate themselves publicly on being mature isn't quite there yet, but they were only teens, and could be forgiven. At least they had the right idea. I'd loved to have known what the situation was they were talking about, but unfortunately eavesdropping is an inexact science.

I don't know what I'm doing today, but it's far too splendid a day to spend indoors. I hope The Socialist wakes soon so we can take advantage of the afternoon.