On Tuesday, I broke my toe and fractured my foot. I'm now limping along with a walking boot, which makes for fun means I'm not driving. Between Marty's right shoulder and my right foot, this has not been a great week for our bones. Some couples when they have been married a long time start dressing alike. Apparently Marty and I are sporting complimentary medical paraphernalia.
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The following text might have been sent to my brother when I returned from taking Polly to the airport (prior to me getting the walking boot). "Can we all just normalize blasting Metallica while driving through small Southern towns at 4:45 a.m.?"
In related news, baseball starts next week.
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After nine weeks and one factory-mishap later, our house on Arizona Avenue has a working garage door. The timing was perfect. The second spring snapped Monday night--the day before the installation. The new door is quiet (our last one sounded like something from a haunted mansion sound stage) and it can be operated from our phones. Hence, the young adults now have access to the house via the garage.
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