Alison is in town for the Indiana Comic & Pop Culture convention, and by that, I mean she is in town for the Indiana Comic & Pop Culture convention. We have barely seen her as she got here about midnight Thursday and has been up with the dawn to apply makeup and meet up with friends downtown.
We've laid traps baited with bacon and crescent rolls to slow her down long enough to chat, and she's been good about giving us updates at the end of the evenings. Today is the final day, but she has dinner plans with a friend from Purdue. We'll have a bit of her attention tomorrow at least for the drive back to the airport.
The Captain complained that we're essentially a hotel for her, but neither he nor I really mind. She's having fun, and we still get to see her. If you'd like to sign my petition for more of these anime'/entertainment gatherings in central Indiana, I'd appreciate it.
I don't have photos of her full-out in any of the three costumes she brought yet. She leaves here half-done to finish with her friends, but this is one is of a male villain called Crocodile she's doing this morning.
In other news, I'm still trying to be a good patient and keeping off my now bunion-less and bone-spur-less left foot. My friend, Debra DeCourcy, reminded me that I'm better off than she was when she had bunion surgery and was on crutches for two weeks before more weeks of a boot.
I'm cleared to drive the Subaru and take short trips like to the grocery, but I haven't done that yet as the Captain thinks he's the boss of me.
I did get to celebrate Debra's retirement. She, Molly Zentz and I have been having dinner together since we all went different ways post time at Angie's List. Debra and her husband, Michael, are moving back to their home state of Pennsylvania where they'll be closer to baby Alina and other family. Molly and I are planning to drop in on them this summer and might even keep our dinners alive via Zoom.
The first Christmas after Debra come to the List, I asked Jeff to get me a nice bottle of red wine to give Debra because I didn't know her well yet, but I knew she liked reds.
In classic Captain fashion, he gave me a bottle, complete with papers that described it, and he told me she needed to cellar it for at least 10 years. She decided that it would be her retirement bottle, and sure enough, she kept it under lock and key all this time. Turns out, it wasn't as expensive a vintage as we'd thought, but you can't buy it now, and it was delicious. So, no goodbyes, but when I see her next, I'll bring a bottle we can drink right away.
I also got to play euchre with the Showgirls and emerged triumphant with my partner Renee Degner. Thanks to Megan for having stools to prop up my bum leg and the VIP parking, and to Monica Brase for chauffeuring me.
I am getting a bit tired of walking around like Frankenstein. Alison, who is sleeping downstairs, says I make a lot of noise, clunking around.
"At first, I just thought it was Dad because, you know, he's loud," she said. "But then I realized it was just one thud and then a pause and then another thud so I knew it was you."
Jeff proved himself (again) to be a great partner, too, when I noticed my toenail polish was chipping. I could have done my right foot, maybe even both of them, but it would have been awkward. True to form, he assembled more tools than you would think were needed and took more time than you would think possible, but he got the job done.
I keep telling Jeff that I'm not an invalid. I just need to keep weight off my left foot. I learned the hard way that too many trips to the basement will set it to throbbing, but I can do some stuff just fine. Loudly and not gracefully, but I can still get around.
This morning, I was reading the paper when he came through the kitchen.
"How did you get your paper?" he asked.
Ali, gobbling down a hot crescent roll that I'd managed to bake all by myself, gave him a "duh" kind of look.
"She hobbled down the driveway and got it herself," she said.
I have a feeling I'll look back on this time and think I should have leaned more into the "keep your foot up" time, but I'm trying to devise a way to get to yard work. It's been cold this week, so I haven't pushed it, but I think I could sit on the ground and clean out the flower beds, scooching my lame ass around the yard. It'll get me dirty, and taking a shower these days is a whole other challenge, but I'm considering options.
We'll see what warmer weather brings.
For now, I'll just park myself where I can see the pops of color last fall's bulbs are offering.
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