Comedy of Errors

I have used the lighted commode seat a couple of times now. Not again for a while—out of TP for that bathroom. Bought some paper towels earlier today, but no TP. While sitting on the seat for the second time, noonish, I suddenly reflected that there was a connection between Moki’s collection of household cleaners (usually in big spray bottles) and the mysterious scat life. While thinking about this I looked down and noticed I had shat in my pants. The pants in question were the red Brooks running shorts (circa 2005). It was one of those cases of the runs where you can see you were eating birchermuesli in the past day. That in fact is all I ate, other than 16 little sushi bites from Klein’s yesterday evening. And a big banana I had this morning. Also drank a lot of strong tea, which may account for this diarrhea. Anyway, while still seated I struggled to get out of my shoes and running tights (circa 2007) which I was wearing over the shorts. Then took the shorts into the powder room, where I wash clothes in the sink (often enough for such reasons as this), put the shorts in the sink, ran water, and got the Persil.

I’d gone to Klein’s for paper towels and a few other items because I suddenly found myself reading Irish soda bread recipes and wanted to make some. So I got more baking soda, and milk, and yoghurt (mixing this and some apple cider vinegar with a pint of regular milk as substitute for buttermilk) and raisins rather than sultanas or currants, and some Kerrygold Reserve cheddar because I really felt like some cheese. At home, after changing my underwear, I combined about three different recipes, ending up using much of my whole wheat flour (3 cups) and the White Lily (3 cups). Added some white sugar and dark brown sugar. I was mixing in the ersatz buttermilk when I again stepped onto the great big rat glueboard. This time the ruined sock was one of Moki’s All Blacks socks. It’s not gone forever; I cut off the toes, and since the socks are roomy I’ll be able to sew them up with a simple stitch. The serious problem here is that I flipped the glueboard while trying to get free, so about half of the glue was adhering to the linoleum kitchen floor. I tore away bits of the cardboard, but this wasn’t going to do the trick. To the medicine cabinet for nail-polish remover (non-acetone, unfortunately) and then to the pantry closet for isopropyl. With a utility knife I sliced up the remaining glueboard. When it was sufficiently soaked in remover and alcohol, I put on rubber gloves, and with a paper towel as insulation was able to get up 99% percent of it, bit by bit. Still a little tackiness there.

I was in the middle of that when I became aware of a running faucet in the bathroom. I’d left the tap on for a few minutes and now it was overflowing. So grabbed some towels and threw them on the floor. The red shots are still sitting in the sink, even as I speak.

I put the dough into the dutch-oven-like pot I have, formed it roughly into a dome on a layer of parchment paper, stuck it in the 400º oven. I have now removed it, put it on the hob, paper and all, too cool. It will be a miracle if this stuff is edible.

Drinking more tea, reheated. Watching a Columbo episode with Patrick McGoohan playing a headmaster of a military academy. For some reason I wanted to watch all the Columbo episodes with Patrick McGoohan. He starred in four, and directed a couple of others.

It occurs to me that it is time to move that terrible flimsy metal etagere shelving Moki put next to his bathroom door. I will put it just east of Moki’s night table. Right now all I’ve got there is my little red clamshell suitcase. I’ll toss out all of Moki’s shoes on the rack, any other detritus I don’t want, and make for clear egress to the big en suite bathroom.

I don’t remember when Moki put it there. What I do remember is that in his last months he often gripped it for support when going to and from the bathroom. Often enough he’d bring it down upon himself. In late September he ended up resting on the floor for much of the morning. I had a hell of a time getting him back into bed. After that I guess he never used a bathroom again. I bought him a pair of urine bottles, with which he’d make a mess, because around the last time he pulled down the wire shelves I’d caught him peeing into a wastebasket. I told him no, and removed the receptacle so he couldn’t. I think this is why he going into the bathroom that day.

Drank a pint of Smirnoff last night with no ill effects. Kept the bathroom door shut, but not the hall door to the living room, because I don’t want our rodent friends to come visiting me in bed again, or digging up the carpet in an attempt to burrow into the living room.


Bread seems okay. Maybe a little soggy in the middle?

It’s been raining all day. Too bad it’s warm suddenly (50º), I could do with a nice early-spring blizzard.