Kathe and I poured oil into the heater's tank. With me still on light duty, we had to pour it into a tiny (2 gal. 8 oz. -- why such an odd amount?) can and make many, many trips up and down. Later, we walked downtown this morning, looked in at Browser's Books, made copies at Henderson's and had coffee at the Red Horse. A fairly heavy day, these days.
I dwelled obsessively upon the way that my cerebrospinal fluid is still making my forehead bulge with every pulsation. It kept my hat from sitting comfortably.
//The Magic Eight-Ball observes that "Pulsating cerebrospinal fluid is better than the other kind."\\
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