Light and Flouffy

So it's Thursday night, and my foot feels how an inflated dish glove looks. OK fine it looks similar too, except that it's a foot, not a hand.
My leg is now very bandaged up. I went into the walk-in clinic on Wednesday after skinning my leg on Saturday. Maybe for fun I'll go back and take them up on their offer to re-dress it. That way I could shower first. Maybe for more fun I won't use shampoo/conditioner and continue quite likely the longest run of unwashed hair my head has ever seen.

My time pretending to be introverted while I avoid activities not involving sitting is going alright.
I read an entire novel in one day.

I've listened to entire albums in my room while following the lyric sheets and listening for subtle music layers. Demon Hunter's Tryptich, Brandtson's Hello Control, Thrice's Vheissu, Number One Gun's something or another second album, and Mute Math have all been enjoyed. Actually I kind of napped through the second half of Mute Math but that's because I was tired and there was no lyrics sheet to follow!
I'll now take this time to fully endorse Thrice's Vehissu album. I read a wonderful article about them in HM, and then I read through the lyrics the night before actually listening to the album. The lyrics were brilliant and beautiful. Some of the best lyrics I've ever seen. The music following was fantastic too. They're obviously incredibly gifted and I will keenly look forward to more.
Demon Hunter's third album is quite easily their best. I absolutely love the lyrics and the music is incredible.
Brandtson's new album will need to grow on me, not that I'm opposed to it now, but it will get better. Number One Gun has definitely improved since their last album and still has room to grow.

U-Haul thrilled my heart today with some good news for moving next week!

I haven't even touched my guitar yet. I just can't bring myself to care without a band, or other people.

I watched Serenity last night with my family and Melanie's friends for her birthday party after home-made pizza and cake and ice cream and silliness. I'll have to thank my Dad for being pleasant at dinner about my pizza.

Today Trevor picked me up and we got slurpees and hung out at Prairie Winds park (not the hill). He got to tell me about his creative date for Melissa (it's their 6 month dating anniversary - they're 2/3rds through the 9 month 'brain damage' period of blind bliss). We chatted a little about what we'd been reading in the Bible, world travelling dreams, and rock star would-ifs.
His favourite non-Jesus story in the Bible features Elisha. I can't wait to get to 2 Kings now.

I made Salsa 6 with the help of Melanie, Faye, and my Mom. I'll hold off judgements until I try some cold but it's definitely not as fiery as I originally intended. My Mom thinks it's hot but Melanie doesn't even think it goes past Medium.
The problem is that canning salsa is life and death dangerous. Botulism goes crazy in oxygen free environments and the particular ingredients of salsa are especially prone for botulism due to the mild acid vegetables. So you have to guarantee that the PH level is below 4 and optimally less than 3.8. Otherwise you can blind, paralyze, or outright kill people.
The safest possible way of guaranteeing safety is to separately pour 1/4 cup lemon/lime juice into each pint jar with the salsa. This means that you can't conveniently season the salsa to taste, and also that the salsa will be runny with all that juice. To counter this, I tried to make the salsa extra thick, which is a fine solution except that you end up slow cooking it for more than 3 hours and it has a distinct cooked flavour.
Of course I did 3 batches of Salsa and each one I attempted something slightly different but I labelled them all the same so it will be rather random as to which results you end up having.
Making salsa isn't easy but each year brings new adventure and I'll probably do it again next year... Hopefully with two legs so I don't need as much help.
I still have 3 jars of Salsa 5, so don't be surprised if I break them and 6 out for a house warming party coming up. Everyone I know except Faye liked Salsa 5, most people quite enthusiastically.

Paul commented that my condition must be seriously hampering my style (he also convinced me to go to the walk-in).
It's true. I like hard work. I like to move.
There is a unique joy in sprinting as fast as your body will let you; in running longer than you thought was possible; making your heart race; feeling muscles burn. There's simpler joys from common movements you go about every day. Jumping down stairs, casually bouncing to music. I'm very fond of those joys.

I don't know how or why particularly but I think fears tied to some of the expressions of these joys have chosen to abandon me. This leg below me wrapped in white isn't mine. I want mine back. Mine takes scrapes without notice. Pain is always temporary and acceptable and unimportant. Pain certainly doesn't cut you off from work for a week and prohibit you from actively enjoying the rest. Otherwise I wouldn't be invincible.