We ate the biscuits with butter and fruit jam. Then I had frozen fruit for dessert. But as any diabetic will tell you... biscuits are high carb. My two hour post meal blood sugar was 186. Eye damage starts at 150. The little vessels in the back of the eye sugar cure like a smokehouse ham. So I needed the poor man's insulin... a long, brisk walk. As Iowa is in a mucky thawed out mess today, I drove down to the river to a state park with Bay Toe Ven, the Inside Dog. We're not to the ignasecond yet, but we're getting closer.
We took off on the paved trail along the river. Bay scrambled through the snow up a hill after squirrels, then slid back down. He trotted along sniffing happily. Other people were enjoying the unseasonable warmth also, bicyclists and joggers, not to mention fishermen. We walked all the way to the Big Dam. There is a door in the side that I always try the door on. Some day it will be open. Then back. Bay was getting pooped out at 40 minutes. He kept lagging behind. So I put his leash on and led him. But like the RRR, Bay is getting old. Long, brisk walks will soon be a thing of the past.
By the time we'd reached an hour on the trail and arrived back at the Green Hornet, he was ready to quit. I opened the hatch on the Hornet, pulled the keys out of the lock, held them in my hand with his leash and helped him hop in. I tossed the leash into the back of the car and slammed the hatch down. The Ignasecond occurred as I saw the keys flying into the seat with the leash through the hatch window as it latched shut.
There I stood. I thought about kicking a window in with rage. Instead I stood with my hands in my pockets staring and thinking long thoughts about the meaning of life and creeping senility.
"Did you lock yourself out?" a friendly voice asked. It was one of the joggers. He held out his cell phone. I called Mrs. RRR. She laughed at me. I deserved it.
So for the next 20 minutes I continued to walk around the parking lot till she arrived. In a moment I was back in the Green Hornet and headed home. On the way I stopped for the mail. A fund raising letter from the National Alzheimer's Association. They'd arrived just in time. And oh yes... my blood sugar? Down to 125 where it belongs.