The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,

Monday’s plans?

1. Chimney sweep arriving at 8:00

2. A festival of errands-

Grocery store for:

 turkey legs to make Thanksgiving gravy ahead of        

   time & freeze

        squash to make soup ahead of time & freeze

Shop for new rug & blinds for office should I ever get around to painting

Shop for curtain rod to replace archaic one on the door that came with the house and recently broke.

Pick up prescription at pharmacy

3. Come home, make gravy & soup
4. Evening meeting of my writer’s group

 

Reality? None of the above (well, okay, the chimney sweep came) thanks to a  sudden encounter in the living room Sunday night. 

      The aggressor 

      

             The weapon

                            

           The victim :

                            

 “Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,”

I should probably have waited on the final picture – my toe is promising to develop into a lovely cobalt blue.

Currently my gait is showing a real kinship with Chester from the old Gunsmoke series. I was going to tough it out, having been raised in a family where you were fine unless the bone was actually sticking out of your leg.

I caved by 8:30 a.m.. The receptionist was as unconcerned as my doctor apparently was, judging by the message relayed to me three hours later.

“Not much you can do except tape your pinky toe to its neighbor.”

Thus:

Morning trips to the treadmill at the Y?

Errands to the grocery store, et al?

Tap dancing lessons (well, I could have been planning some)?

As Burns would have said, they’ve “Gang aft agley”