Portia appeared to be walking much better this morning, so I didn't call a vet for her, but this evening she was favoring her injured foot again. I think she might have interrupted her recovery by jumping from a table or other place that was too high.
Having gotten hold of a crevice tool, long missing from my vacuum cleaner's equipment, I finally got around to cleaning some of the disgusting places the other tools couldn't reach. It's amazing how much dust can accumulate in hidden places. Entire dust mite civilizations might have thriven in those places before annihilation fell upon them today.
I bought some strawberries and whipping cream and a cheap angel food cake the other day. I was sure we had an electric hand mixer in the house, but tonight I searched everywhere and couldn't find it. There is a big bowl mixer in a closet but I didn't want to lug that out, so I went for the egg beater. I had no idea how exhausting it could be to whip cream with an egg beater. The cream never got as thick as I'd have liked, though I whipped for several minutes, but I ate the stuff anyway. It was a bit annoying that my hand was too sore to comfortably hold the spoon. Until I get a hand mixer I think I'll stick to aerosol whipped cream.
There was a bottle of Budweiser with lunch, a bottle of Sierra Nevada with dinner, a bit of port with dessert, and now that late night snack time is approaching, the last bottle of Guinness stashed in my refrigerator is calling me. I need something more to soothe me after the ordeal of preparing that whipped cream.