Cold Front

Had a sort of strange dream last night. I was in a very large hotel with a mass of people who were essentially refugees, fleeing increasingly cold and harsh weather at home -- massive amounts of snow, on the order of six to eight feet, and growing. The congregation at the hotel was supposed to have been a gathering where we would regroup, and possibly stay, but the weather was following us. Looking out the windows, you could see startlingly blue skies, glittering white fields of snow which all looked quite peaceful until you stepped out in it, and felt the bite of the ice pellets in the driving wind. We were going through the things we had brought with us, paring it down to the minimum we needed, and abandoning the rest. I was supposed to meet my wife there, somewhere, but as the crowd, which had gathered for lunch, thinned, she was no where to be found.

Very desolate feeling.
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Dense fog this morning, which doesn't help my lethargic mood. Had to bring the daughteroid and a friend over to color guard practice. This is lethal. They practice today from 8:30 till about 4, then immediately go home, change, and go back out to do a performance at a local football game. (The local team's doing very badly, sorry to say, but the CG's doing very well. My wife says it seems that schools do one or the other well each year, but not both, and not consistently.) Then on Tuesday, they're supposed to march in the town's Hallowe'en parade, and then have another practice Tuesday night for about three hours.

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I was looking at that sweet dough recipe. It looks good, and doable, but I don't particularly feel like making stollen this weekend (not to mention, what would I do with it once it was done?), so instead I'm going to mix the dough today for buttermilk biscuits, and we'll have them tomorrow with the hamburger soup (a slow cooker recipe). Plus, tomorrow morning, we'll have part of that other french loaf as french toast, which should be good.

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Found out yesterday that I have a medical appointment Tuesday morning. Figures. No matter how good my blood sugar control is, I always -- and I mean, always -- have a bad week in the two weeks prior to an appointment -- and last week, one day, was an absolute catastrophe. ("This is my cat. His name is Astrophe.") Blood sugar gets measured two ways, one being a 90 day reading of the amount of sugar that's adhered to the blood cells. (I'm sure I have one or two details wrong there, but thats the gist of it.) For the longest time, my reading for that was about 8.0, which is too high; once I started using Lantus, it dropped to about 6.9, and once it was 6.5, which is the realm it ought to be in. But ever since, its hovered around 7.2, plus or minus, and that irks me something fierce, especially when I've made a concerted effort to watch it, taking extra insulin if its getting high or if I know its going to (ie, I'm having something that's carb-intensive, like that bread or spaghetti). I don't like going to the doctor, and I don't like the feeling of 'well, kiddo, you failed at it again.' They mail me the results of the 3 month test, and its just like waiting for your report card when you were a kid.
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Ever since we worked up that hypothesis about the PC, it has failed just once -- and it was right after I unplugged the external hard drive. So it's plausible... which is good. I know that computers go flukey for no apparent reason, but this one's less than three years old. I didn't want to buy a new one. That's not out of the question, but now its somewhat less likely.
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Finished that Dead Wrong book. Not an overwhelmingly satisfying ending, but not at all bad. I'd read more by that author.