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Yeah, I coerced (or drafted) the wife to help me with some yard work tomorrow, as she's finally off a day, but I don't want to use her like a rented mule. Just spray weedkiller, or something like that. It takes some effort to maintain and acre and a quarter solo. The weather here is supposed to turn sour again starting tomorrow, so I'd like to have the basics done, if nothing else. It's been tricky getting it all done because of that spill I took last week. My mother e-mailed me to let me know a few back-home goings-on, and I made the mistake of telling her. Bad idea. Never tell your mother anything if she was a nurse for over forty years. Now she said I ought to get a walker. I said I'll die first before I putter around with anything that has tennis balls on the end of it. Then, the wife asked me for a Lasix, because her knees and ankles are swollen from standing so much. I got her one, then I got a double-shot of pain from my chest and my foot trying to walk up the step from the living room. She looked at me and seriously said, "Do you think we need to get you a walker?" I mean, come on, so OK, I'm at the age where I've earned the right to be a bit of a crank, but I'm getting attacked from multiple sides here. Independently.