By golly it's fixed

I slept later than I intended. I woke up thinking about last night's episode and wondering how the pieces fit the story. When I got up, it was almost 9:30. I dressed and took the recyclables to the curb. Then I read e-mail by my HappyLight and swished. I watched an interview with a doctor who said that the body's self-repair mechanism only works during the relaxation response. She recommended tapping to relieve stress. I performed my exercises. I knelt on the cushion and got very little water out, so I placed it near the heating vent and resolved to return it to the couch tomorrow.  I saw the recycling truck go by followed by the mail truck. So I was surprised to hear the doorbell ring. It was Bob's son-in-law coming to fix the garage door. I let him in and led him to the garage. But then I returned to the warm upstairs. I read some articles and when I noticed the time (noon), started the juicing process. I ate a slice of aloe, then started making breakfast. Darren rang the doorbell at 12:35 to say he was finished and leaving. I finished eating the first part of breakfast, then meditated, using my relaxation response to absorb nutrients and self-repair. I checked the garage door and did not see the patch. But the holes in the ceiling were patched with paneling pieces. There was another piece that looked like it might fall down any time. Bob told me he did not do preventative maintenance. I wanted to stabilize the wood around the screw with a flat piece of metal. I found one out by the heating unit, left behind during the installation. I tried to put a hole in that piece with a hammer and nail, but it was too strong. I found a piece of wood and a longer screw with the same thread spacing. I screwed it in place, as best I could, but it seemed barely sufficient. I searched through my bin of lace for the closest thing to battenburg. I took a pic, and went upstairs to download the pic. I finished the second half of breakfast, and listened to an audio on estrogen imbalance. Raspberries and dark cherries were recommended. I took my laptop downstairs for another audio while I put all the laces back in the box, and continued work on some blue lace stack-n-whacks. When the audio was over, Chris was home and eating supper. I ate my supper and looked at the mail – a quilt magazine. We watched Streets of Fire, something Chris got from Netflix that he remembered from his youth. Then he prepared for the morning and went to bed.

*  These blocks look better on the screen than in real life   *