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Monday, September 24, 2012
Three weeks ago, I’d gone to breakfast at a diner in Cape Vincent with my aunt and uncle.  They served the biggest pancakes I’d ever seen and Heidi had been unable to eat an entire one.  As any good father would, I finished it for her.

We returned to that diner where I order TWO of those pancakes.  I was looking at a long ride back to Cleveland and didn’t want to get hungry along the way.  Little chance of that as I put away the final few bites.

When I returned home, I went about the essential tasks of storing camping gear properly for the winter.  As I worked, I noticed a pain in the knuckle of my big, right toe that wouldn’t go away.  I’ve had pain there before, mostly while out on a run, and it has always gone away in less than ten minutes.  This time would be different.

I broke my first sweat of the day disassembling and reassembling our futon in Jack’s old bedroom.  I could see that trying to move it up the stairs and into that room in one piece would probably leave me with a brain aneurism and although I’ve never had one of those, didn’t think it would be a good thing.   It came apart quite nicely; things often do for me, but I was surprised and pleased when I was able to reassemble it without and leftover pieces parts.  After moving a dresser and filing cabinet, I succumbed to the throbbing in my toe and plopped down in an easy chair for the rest of the evening.