The temperature dropped, and it was cool but lovely today. The kind of day I would love to spend outside. However, I took the Sparrowhawk to PT in the morning, and waited for him again in the subterranean cafe full of somewhat debilitated people awaiting their turn to be rehabilitated. This place is frustrating, because it contains shelves full of snacks, and I always think I deserve something for my service, but I can never find anything that I actually want to consume. Perhaps it's the environment that sucks the joy out of it. I stopped at the bakery on the way home, but the cupboard was bare, and the friendly baker and clerk told us that they had been sold out since 9:30 that morning. Someone must be having a party. A business up the street was having an employee appreciation picnic in their front yard, and I had half a mind to stop and ask them if they were the ones who nobbled my pastries! There was one cherry scone left, so we bought it.

We had some lunch, and I put away some laundry, and that was about it. The Sparrowhawk has not been feeling great. The PT had him get on the treadmill for quite awhile, and He thinks it might have made the dystonia in his foot worse. My knees are stiff and tricky after last night's workout. I didn't do anything that hurt them at the time, but they're just being reactive. So I have to walk carefully and not too fast. I had to cook again tonight, as we were running out of everything except pulled pork. I thawed some ground beef and used some of it to make beef stroganoff and noodles for the Sparrowhawk, and turned the rest of it into sliders for myself and for later. Plus streamed broccoli and another big salad with cucumbers, avocado, and tomatoes. The Sparrowhawk suggested we go down to the Village and get an ice cream cone. This is an offer I would never normally refuse, but alas, I felt I just couldn't hack it tonight. We stayed home and are watching "On the Beach," a childhood favorite of mine that the Sparrowhawk has never seen. This was one of many movies I saw on late night tv while babysitting the children of my father's colleagues. I'm sure my parents would have considered it horribly unsuitable, but I found a gloomy consolation in it. But we will soon take a break from this absurd mini-apocalypse to watch Jeopardy, where at least some of the answers make sense.

Edited to add: although I admire Ava Gardner as an actress, the amount of brandy that her character drinks in "On the Beach" is absurd, and I can't imagine how horrible it would make a person feel. One might as well have radiation sickness! If I were ever On the Beach, I would medicate myself only with genteelly moderate amounts of the finest ice cream, until time ran out. And it wouldn't have to be some hoity-toity variety with a twee name that came only in pints. I'm here to tell you that a few spoonfuls of the locally produced brand of vanilla, eaten out of the carton, is very restorative.