Pasta and Suet Balls

Not a whole lot went on around here yesterday. I had an uneventful day at work and then came home and mowed the lawn. I weeded one of our flower beds and once again mistook a garden plant for a weed. This time I didn't pull it up, thankfully, but I did cut most of the leaves off. They'll grow back.

I'm a menace, I tell you.

Dave isn't well enough to get out in the garden yet. Even standing up long enough to cook pasta is a challenge for him (as we discovered last night while cooking pasta, when I had to step in and finish up). Het gets dizzy and feels weak, which I suppose is normal for someone who lay in a hospital bed for two weeks, barely eating, and lost much of his muscle mass. I wish we'd weighed him before and after his surgery, because the difference would be dramatic.

He is continuing to improve, though, which is what I tell all the students and teachers who ask about him. He's eating more and slowly feeling stronger, though even he gets frustrated by the slow pace of his recovery.

You can see some of his get-well cards on the windowsill above. The roses came from one of his teaching colleagues.

Olga antic of the day: We have a bucket of dried suet balls that we bought for one of the bird feeders. I was refilling the feeder yesterday morning when I looked down to see Olga chowing on one of the suet balls. (They're full of seeds and about the size of a small orange.) She had that whole thing in her stomach before I could say a word. Her dog walker must wonder what the heck we feed her.