La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
THIS IS DAY 15 OF the 10-day parking lot renovation. If you don’t count weekends, it’s really only Day 11. The crew have begun to pour the second half of the concrete. Since there’s no more demolition to be done I’m guessing that, weather permitting, the job will easily be finished by the end of this week. They’ve already got the flood lights in place for another late-night finish. I stood in the hall for a half hour watching the work. I still love cement mixers. I wonder how much the technology has changed since I was a kid. It sure doesn’t look much different.
I’m going to the podiatrist this afternoon for a check of my bruised foot. It’s much better, although it’s still a bit tender after any walk. And it’s still swells around my toes. Left to my own devices, I’d buy a piece of thick foam rubber.
San Geraldo finished off the stroopwafels yesterday. He was slowly working his way through them, growing more and more disgusted with himself. So, he decided to eat them all and stop worrying about it. I had a few chocolate truffles yesterday. No reflux. So, I’ll stick to that diet plan.
I’ve been practicing juggling knives. While washing dishes after breakfast, I purposely left the long skinny knife (I’m sure it has an official name) aside on the counter so I wouldn’t accidentally cut myself. Somehow, I tapped the handle of the knife with my hand, which flipped it into the air before coming down, point-first, between my index and middle fingers. It would have been nice if it had missed the skin between those fingers. Anyway, it only left a tiny cut. After dinner, I had just washed a big knife (which also probably has an official name) when I dropped it. It landed, point-down of course, in my foot, which was fortunately clad in a slipper. Anyway, the point stuck in the fabric beyond my second toe. No harm done. But I think I’ll go back to juggling bean bags.
.
ESTE ES EL DÍA 15 de la renovación de 10 días del estacionamiento. Si no cuenta los fines de semana, en realidad es solo el día 11. La cuadrilla ha comenzado a verter la segunda mitad del hormigón. Dado que no hay más demoliciones por hacer, supongo que, si el clima lo permite, el trabajo se terminará fácilmente a fines de esta semana. Ya tienen las luces de inundación en su lugar para otro final nocturno. Me quedé en el pasillo durante media hora mirando el trabajo. Todavía me encantan las hormigoneras. Me pregunto cuánto ha cambiado la tecnología desde que era niño. Seguro que no se ve muy diferente.
Iré al podólogo esta tarde para que me revisen el pie magullado. Está mucho mejor, aunque todavía está un poco sensible después de cualquier paseo. Y todavía se hincha alrededor de mis dedos de los pies. Dejándome a mis propios dispositivos, compraría un pedazo de gomaespuma gruesa.
San Geraldo acabó ayer con los stroopwafels. Estaba abriéndose camino lentamente a través de ellos, cada vez más disgustado consigo mismo. Entonces, decidió comerlos todos y dejar de preocuparse por eso. Ayer tomé unas trufas de chocolate. Sin reflujo. Entonces, me ceñiré a ese plan de dieta.
He estado practicando malabarismos con cuchillos. Mientras lavaba los platos después del desayuno, dejé deliberadamente el cuchillo largo y delgado (estoy seguro de que tiene un nombre oficial) a un lado en el mostrador para no cortarme accidentalmente. De alguna manera, golpeé el mango del cuchillo con mi mano, que lo lanzó al aire antes de bajar, apuntando primero, entre mis dedos índice y medio. Hubiera sido bueno si hubiera pasado por alto la piel entre esos dedos. De todos modos, solo dejó un pequeño corte. Después de la cena, acababa de lavar un cuchillo grande (que probablemente también tenga un nombre oficial) cuando lo dejé caer. Aterrizó, con la punta hacia abajo, por supuesto, en mi pie, que afortunadamente estaba cubierto por una zapatilla. De todos modos, la punta se atascó en la tela más allá de mi segundo dedo. Ningún daño hecho. Pero creo que volveré a hacer malabares con bolsas de frijoles.
• Concierto en nuestra nueva plaza el domingo. Banda Municipal de Fuengirola.
• Mirando hacia el oeste el domingo justo antes del atardecer.
• Mirando hacia el sur el domingo justo antes del atardecer.
• Mirándome como si estuviera loco el domingo justo antes del atardecer.
• Esta mañana.
• Cuchillo largo delgado y cuchillo grande.
.
Chef’s knife (the big one) Boning knife or filet knife (think pointy one.). It does look like the parking lot is getting close, the concrete will need a few days to cure before you start parking on it (it cures, not dries, it is a chemical process that causes it to harden, if it dried out before that happened, it would blow away.) You probably didn’t need to know that. I worked for a bunch of civil engineers for 7 years and learned all of the details.
David:
I used them both as boning knives! The concrete is done and curing. Next will be the slicing of the second half, then painting, and then parking!
Joni would approve…..I am sure.
Jim:
Oh, how I love Joni Mitchell.
Juggling knives now? You’ll be moving up to chainsaws in no time!
Debra:
Nope. I won’t have any fingers left for catching them.
Strongly suggest you leave the knives alone. The risk factor for you is simply too high. I’m sure SG would wash them if it meant keeping you unharmed.
Mary:
I’ve managed to not do any serious damage for a while now. San Geraldo is as bad at washing as I am at cooking!
I think you ought to leave the Cleaning of the Knives to SG; you’re dangerous!
Have you thought about asking the Burly Pavers up to the apartment for a cold one??? Just a thought.
That picture of the band reminds me of Carlos playing with the local concert band. He just got word that they can start rehearsing again–it’s been over a year since they COVID-stopped–for the 4th of July Concert. Slowly, we come back to normal, though I think it won’t be fully normal until the Fall.
Bob:
If I left the cleaning of the knives to SG, they would remain dirty until the next time he needed them. No burly pavers allowed in the apartment. Covid rules (and Covid Rules).
nice workmen! and handsome cats!
WHY are you playing with knives; no good can come of it. juggle chocolate truffles instead.
anne marie:
If SG wouldn’t use knives when he cooks, I wouldn’t have to wash them!
I think you lead a charmed life, Mitchell – those knives could have done serious damage! But perhaps you should not tempt fate so often.
Thought of you during a very exciting (too exciting, really) thunderstorm last night. For almost 2 hours I sat in bed with a 70lb quivering, hyperventilating dog in my lap while lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and wind howled nonstop. Two and half inches of rain fell, which is unusual this time of year. Happy to get the rain, though. Will be taking a nap shortly. Maybe I’ll queue up some Joni Mitchell.
Wilma:
I DO worry that one of these times I’m going to do some serious damage. The Kid Brother sliced an artery when he tried to close an ancient window in an inn on the Isle of Wight. Poor puppy! That’s exactly how it is for me with SG during a thunderstorm! Except … 200 pounds!
The cats are looking at you like you’re crazy because they don’t approve of juggling with knives. Never mind any injury to you–you might cut off a tail.
Love,
Janie
Janie:
The cats are, well Dudo at least is, a lot smarter than me.
Wait! I missed the story on your foot! What happened to your foot? I scrolled back (realizing I have missed several days of enjoying your blog), but didn’t see anything… I went all the way back to pork loin penis –ha!
I couldn’t read the parts today about juggling knives… it hurt my stomach, and I was squirming in my chair, going, “Oh, no, no oh, no no” …. can’t stand reading descriptions of painful things.
Judy C:
Here’s the story of the bruised foot (https://movingwithmitchell.com/2021/03/22/shadows-of-differences-sombras-de-diferencias/). Nothing really. Just walking! Sorry about the knives!
all I can say after reading about your dexterity with knives, we should be thankful you do not juggle axes. Ouch!
larrymuffin:
But I never once hurt myself with beanbags. I could have hit myself in the eye!
Perhaps you could juggle knives made of chocolate instead? Or chocolate sword swallowing? The looks of worry and concern on those poor puss’ faces should be enough to convince you, LOL!
Tundra Bunny:
Anything with chocolate would be worth the risk.
Someone on tv said this once: Falling knives have no handles.
Walt the Fourth:
That’s perfect!
Cuchilla and cuchara are not cooperating in my brain to stay in their proper categories.
Urspo:
Yours is not the only brain that has problems with those. I helped myself remember cuchilla was knife because it had two vertical knives in its name (before the “a”).