Tennis Elbow, Whooping Cough and the Ballard Sunday Market

No, I don't have whooping cough. Neither does Trisa. But I did get a booster vaccination for it today along with my Tetanus and Diphtheria boosters as well. My doctor practically frog marched me to injections to get it done. I thought there was a chance I'd had it in the past 2 years, but he said I had to have it in writing, or else. So, down to the crotchety nurse with the needle I went.

I've since come to find out that California, Illinois, and Alabama might all have Whooping Cough (also known as Pertussis) epidemics. Vaccines for Pertussis only last through childhood, so right now many states are recommending adults go get their shots again. My doctor takes vaccines very seriously, evidently. I'm in for a sore left arm for the next few days.

I went in to have my right elbow looked at. With little poking and prodding, Dr. Mac pronounced me afflicted by the ever-so-serious repetitive motion injury known as tennis elbow. I went to Rite Aid and got me the rather inexpensive cure - a large, glorified, rubber band that I'm to wear for the next week or so. If that doesn't do the trick, I'm back to the clinic for a cortisone shot.

Yesterday, we went to the Ballard Sunday market. To say the least, it was a spectacle that everyone should behold. There's music, weirdos, and TONS of "farmers" peddling their wares.

Trisa and I purchased Deborah's famous meat pies. We presume that they are not full of people as they are known to be on Fleet Street in London. But only time will tell if we presume correctly... We also bought a strawberry rhubarb pie from Deborah. We took home some goat patties, pears, cheese, cheese, and more cheese, and couldn't find BUTTER anywhere. What cheese maker hasn't got enough milk to make a little butter? Sheesh. We picked up lunch at some "world famous" veggie Quesadilla stand. We found out it's world famous for the WRONG reasons. Fool me once. We also bought a CD form a street musician playing haunting, somber cello melodies. He's called the Gypsy Cellist. I didn't see any Gypsies, but what would be the fun and mystery if they were seen? So they all must've been hiding somewheres.

Groceries for the week from the Ballard Sunday Market came to $50. We spent a little more than that on lunch and the CD. Parking was $2.

I can't wait to try the peasant's meat pie this week. I'll write up my full review when we do and post it here. I'll also review the strawberry pie. I love pie, so it'll be VERY hard for me to criticize it at all. If you all knew how much I love pie, you'd say "WOW! You love pie an awful lot!" I'd have to agree.

I'm waiting, praying, for the day that we find a cobbler maker at a farmer's market. If we don't find one soon, I'll have to make my own cobbler after we go to the u-pick berry farms. Maybe cobbler is the only food I love more than pie. I'm decently sure that when God was sitting around making Eve, he took a break at some point for cobbler. Seriously. Cobbler is heavenly. It's a well known fact that most angels carry the stuff around with them wherever they go. Anyway, I digress. Digressing is not good for tennis elbow, so I'll shut up now.

Peace out,

Mike