I have been resting most of the day. I am on painkillers and can report that my leg feels a bit better this evening. I still can't bend it very much without wanting to scream in agony, but I am still feeling better. Thanks for your concern.
Patricia left the house early this morning to go to Dartmouth to get a new composter for the cottage. They were 25 dollars, taxes in. I slept through her departure, believe it or not. I am usually not that heavy a sleeper, but I was last night.
When she did return home, we talked for a spell until I returned to bed around 3:30. I woke up in time for dinner. The smells emanating from the kitchen nearly carried me down the stairs all by themselves. Patricia had made a Manhatten seafood chowder. It was chock full of seafood purchased at the Clearwater fish place on the Bedford Highway. It was excellent. As good as it was this evening it will be that much better on Sunday once the flavours have had a chance to mingle and get to know each other better. Honestly, Patricia outdid herself this evening.
I am on the bed now. I have had my Robaxacet. Newbie seems to have forgiven me for kidnapping him and taking him to the vet the other night: He is on the edge of the bed and even purring a little again. A good sign. It means I should not have to worry about getting clawed to death in my sleep.
Which is fine. After "Orphan Black" is over in an hour, I'm turning in yet again.
See you tomorrow.