mending

 I'm supposed to take it easy after yesterday's surgery. Ha! That's what they all say after they're done cutting you and then sewing you back up again. Something about stitches popping open and blood vessels rupturing. Yes, okay, I don't want to disturb their handiwork, but life does move forward. No bending for ten days? You're joking, right? Yesterday I spilled something on the kitchen floor. Henry, of course, leaves messes outside that I have to pick up. I dropped a nail under the table. The balcony is filthy from seed casings and really needed a sweep with my little hand broom. And that's just one day! How am I supposed to do all that if I can't bend lift or work up a sweat? Okay, the last one is easy. The doc's office called today to check up on me. Follow the rules, I'm told. So how do I wipe dry, clean, retrieve? Squat -- they say. I almost laughed. Most of these surgeries are done on older people. Are you telling them all to squat?

If you ask me, the thing that will pop my stitches is my persistent cough. I can really put the pressure on my face hacking away! It did not help me feel better hearing the nurse say yesterday -- oh, you got one of those coughs? Mine lasted a whole year! Great.

Since I'm not allowed to remove the wound cover (yet), I mostly do not pay attention to what's underneath, though I am a bit curious. Tomorrow. I get to start wound care. 

 

But all this is trivial. I slept well and until 7 in the morning! Is this a new trend, Henry? I love getting up at 7! That's just half an hour short of my normal wake up!

Warmish, misty, gloomy.

(waiting for the elevator: there is something about that face that is unquestionably attractive, beguiling, heart-warming...)

 

 

Inside? All warmth, color and contentment.

 

 

 

The rains come down hard today. They remind me of March rains, beating away at a dirty landscape. I pick up the kids, parking the car in the garage and feeling grateful for this bit of luxury. I say to them -- the best thing about living here is that I am so close to you guys, and your schools. The second best thing is the garage. (The worst thing? Certainly that it's relatively distant from the farmette, and that it forces confrontations between Henry and those coming into or leaving the elevator! )

 

 

 

 

 

I'm glad I have plenty of leftovers from several days of energetic cooking. The comfort of veggie cabbage soup cannot be overestimated.  A rainy day demands comfort at home. Maybe with a blanket and a good book. And a grand dog snuggling his head into your lap.

with so much love...