I was out for orange juice, although it may be a bit late for the family member down with a cold. Heading to the parking lot, I encountered a fellow striding briskly toward the store. He made a kind of flapping sound with one foot, and when he got closer, I saw a white plastic bag stuck to his shoe.
He didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t look like the sort of person you’d want to go up to and say, ‘Uh, look, there’s a bag on your shoe. And everyone is looking because it’s making a lot of noise.’
So I came home with two large containers of juice and a pack of Ace bandages, the new kind that doesn’t need the sharp little grippers that I hated. I never know when one of my thumbs is going out of whack, and it’s good to be prepared. I’ve spent many weeks with sore thumbs, one from repetitive use, the other from multiple lacerations brought on by pruning of overgrown ivy and honeysuckle vines.
I’m just sure that I’m going to catch the cold as well, two weeks before Christmas.