Osprey of Leave

I'm feeling unusually irritable, even for me. So far, I've managed not to take it out on anyone. We had to run a couple of errands this morning, ending up at the grocery store. I had to go there again, because they had a special that was only available on Fridays--two Cornish game hens for five dollars. The Sparrowhawk has a special fondness for this dish for sentimental reasons. When I got there, the game hens were nowhere to be found. I finally located some in the freezer section, but they weren't the advertised brand, and they weren't marked as on sale. So I went to ask . . . . Several employees spent 15 minutes going back and forth, making phone calls, etc. and finally determined there was no such item. The man at the meat counter very kindly printed up some impromptu labels and relabeled them so I could get the discount. I appreciated that very much. It was still frustrating to wait around, and then have to rush home to be there in time for a scheduled Zoom call.

In the afternoon, our neighbor Irish had some time to work on repair to the porch. This was good, but it was awfully noisy, and he had to come in at intervals to update us on his progress. I had trouble focusing on other stuff I was trying to do. The Sparrowhawk was busy on a different Zoom call. When that was over, I had to go downtown to get a tomographic mammogram. Everything is different because of covid. The valet parking is now down in the bowels of the parking structure, for which I have a particular hate. It is excessively cramped and claustrophobic, so I always use valet parking. Which used to be a convenient dropoff by the front door. But not now. I was lucky that although it was a late appointment, I arrived two minutes before the valet parking was about to close, and they graciously accepted my car anyway. And then the usual aggravation of medical procedures, but more so because of covid. The one good thing about it is that they shoot you out the door as fast as possible, instead of making you wait as they used to.

As I pulled into the driveway, I saw Irish mowing his lawn at a tremendous speed--after working on our porch for hours. A flood of bitter, bitter envy poured through me. I used to have that kind of energy. I hate being old and getting tired and grumpy. But then Ivy, one of the next-door twins, called out to me. She was hanging up a scarecrow in the redbud tree that stands between our driveway and theirs. "It will scare everyone who sees it!" she informed me with great satisfaction, so I had to agree that I would undoubtedly be terrified next time I came up the driveway at twilight. The Sparrowhawk was making me some whitefish and fried potatoes--so kind of him to make sure I got something to eat. I've had a generous share of good things today to balance the annoying ones. But I'm still irritable. I think I'll just trade myself in for tomorrow's model and start again.