One of these things is nothing to do with the other

[desperance]

Ouchie. Yesterday's physio session was, um, a little brutal? in its efforts to recover what might have been lost ground; and now my shoulder is strapped up. And exceedingly sore. I think the strapping is really just to hide the bruises. "You may feel it for a day or two," she said. Heh. (But I left her brokedy too, nursing her poor abused thumbs. The last five minutes, she'd been using her elbows instead.)

And now I must go and make bread. Which I have not done for weeks'n'weeks, and nothing good has happened in the meantime, so. (If there are no superstitions about the baking of bread causing good things to happen around it, there ought to be...)

Comments

[moral-vacuum.livejournal.com]

Pretty, and also rubberised! I'm all for fetish cookware. Plus the Dualit is really good for things like meringues too (although possibly not quite as good for that as my new toy, the Bamix, but then the Bamix was stupidly expensive).

You're like my father (in attitude, obviously, not remotely in age) - he thought that any labour-saving device was somehow cheating, and therefore bad for the soul.

However, using a labour-saving device for medical reasons? You can give yourself dispensation.