It's been an up and down day. I discovered a new organic supermarket, native to Arizona, called "Sprouts" and had a wonderful time shopping for healthy food. While I was there, my cell phone rang -- a dear friend was calling to let me know she'd been admitted to a hospital for a serious reaction to a new medication. We had a horrible connection, but I understood the name of the hospital and called back when I got home. I hope to learn more tomorrow.

A kind policeman did not give me a ticket for making an abrupt, unsignalled turn into the strip mall parking lot. He followed me in, parked a little ways from me, watched me get out of my car and walk into the store, and probably ran my plates. Nothing more. I'm grateful he decided to give a middle-aged blonde a break. I deserved a ticket, and resolved not to do that again. I could have caused an accident.

Spent the morning sick as a cat with a hairball, and couldn't keep my medicines down. Not fun. Then when I finally perked up I had a delightful conversation with a friend from our old home in California. She's not running for City Council herself -- she was on the Council for quite a few years -- but she's managing someone else's campaign.

Finally contacted the local scleroderma support group's leader, who was wonderful to talk with. I hope to go to their monthly meeting tomorrow at the Lung Association's building. In the years since I was diagnosed, I've only actually met one other woman with systemic sclerosis. "I don't look the least bit sick," I said to Pat. "Will I fit in with the group?" She replied, "None of us look sick, come on and meet us, you'll be welcome." Very different from the doctor who, some years ago, told me he ran a support group, but that I wouldn't fit in because I was in such good shape and others might not accept me.

And all the usual chores: taking care of our five pets, cleaning up the dishes and the kitchen, washing everything that was on the old couch because Satin peed there, running the irrigation system and doing my share of hand watering, emptying wastebaskets and garbage and taking out the trash, reading an analysis of the Fannie Mae/Freddie Mac conservatorship (not one of the usual chores and not the least bit enjoyable), scrubbing a toilet (more fun than reading the afore-mentioned analysis), picking up after my beloved husband, and running to the UPS store to ship a care package to Stephy. As I've said before, housewives are not lazy wives.

On balance, a pretty good day. The serendipity of the day was learning that I can pick up a clear signal for the local NPR jazz station on my kitchen radio. There's also a classical station, but I can only receive it without static in my car.