I learned some things today: That my mother was right -- your childhood oddities can make a reappearance in your adulthood. That an hour without back pain can be sublime, more so than a trip to Paris. That quinoa salad is yummy, especially if you make red quinoa. That Butter is capable of producing two-yolked eggs. That Ed has it in him to make a wonderful flan. At least I think it's wonderful. I wanted to dig right in tonight, but he pointed out just now that the recipe calls for chilling it overnight.
That truly is the full summary of this day. What -- you think fuller explanations are in order? Fine. But be warned: you'll come back and tell me that I was right. The first paragraph says it all.
We are in the thick of awful April weather. I suppose it could be worse: we could have snow. We don't quite have the cold for that, but it's gray, it's wet, it's windy. The kind of weather where I want to go back to yesterday's post and erase that part about liking to be up with the chickens at sunrise.
No sun rising within my field of vision. Nor that of the chicks. Once again, they seem distressed that the world I opened for them is so... dismal.
Never mind. In these buds, there is promise.
In breakfast, there is hope.
In my back, there is pain.
We try numerous home remedies to relieve it and sure, they help, but I am not going to be satisfied with partial success. I want total victory.
And so this is our day: the chickens are left to free range without our company outside (occasionally, riddled with guilt, I throw out a handful of seeds for them and they are happy and I am happy)...
...the rains come down and then they don't and then they do -- on and on, though really, given the violent weather south of us, we cannot complain...
And then finally, toward the end of the day, I check in with a doc. And she reminds me that I have all sorts of goodies that trace back to my childhood (my mother was right!) that would cause my back to recoil now and the best I can do for myself is to exercise, but not too much.
How much is too much?
Well, you'll know when you over do it, wont you?
Oh, thank you. That's very helpful.
On my way home, I stop to play with my daughter's cat and as always, it is lovely to see that pouty sweet face.
In the inbetween hours, I try to do some writing and editing while lying stretched on the hard floor and for the most part, I think I make progress, both in my work and in my back restoration.
I even make supper for us, though Ed has to pick up anything that I drop to the floor.
Supper is quinoa salad. With fried eggs (including Butter's twin yolk monster egg), baked carrots and sauteed leeks. Over arugula.
Tomorrow I should graduate to greater activity. Though the weather will keep both of us indoors. It's that kind of April week!
That truly is the full summary of this day. What -- you think fuller explanations are in order? Fine. But be warned: you'll come back and tell me that I was right. The first paragraph says it all.
We are in the thick of awful April weather. I suppose it could be worse: we could have snow. We don't quite have the cold for that, but it's gray, it's wet, it's windy. The kind of weather where I want to go back to yesterday's post and erase that part about liking to be up with the chickens at sunrise.
No sun rising within my field of vision. Nor that of the chicks. Once again, they seem distressed that the world I opened for them is so... dismal.
Never mind. In these buds, there is promise.
In breakfast, there is hope.
In my back, there is pain.
We try numerous home remedies to relieve it and sure, they help, but I am not going to be satisfied with partial success. I want total victory.
And so this is our day: the chickens are left to free range without our company outside (occasionally, riddled with guilt, I throw out a handful of seeds for them and they are happy and I am happy)...
...the rains come down and then they don't and then they do -- on and on, though really, given the violent weather south of us, we cannot complain...
And then finally, toward the end of the day, I check in with a doc. And she reminds me that I have all sorts of goodies that trace back to my childhood (my mother was right!) that would cause my back to recoil now and the best I can do for myself is to exercise, but not too much.
How much is too much?
Well, you'll know when you over do it, wont you?
Oh, thank you. That's very helpful.
On my way home, I stop to play with my daughter's cat and as always, it is lovely to see that pouty sweet face.
In the inbetween hours, I try to do some writing and editing while lying stretched on the hard floor and for the most part, I think I make progress, both in my work and in my back restoration.
I even make supper for us, though Ed has to pick up anything that I drop to the floor.
Supper is quinoa salad. With fried eggs (including Butter's twin yolk monster egg), baked carrots and sauteed leeks. Over arugula.
Tomorrow I should graduate to greater activity. Though the weather will keep both of us indoors. It's that kind of April week!
