its over. I didn't keep the car that was behind door number three. Everything about that job was fiction. And it is over. Behind me. I got up this morning and didn't. Didn't get dressed, didn't scrape ice off the windows of the car that isn't mine anymore. Didn't drive to Mc-fucking-Minnville. Didn't.
Ahh.
I am sipping coffee, not on my front porch, which is my preference, but at this small desk, weather news in the background.
Once it was cold (view from the porch 2003:
It's gonna get cold. That's the news. I know, I know. I'm always whining about the weathercast. But it is february for crying out loud. Coldest month of the year. This is not news. But in the absence of something like the vice president shooting someone in the face, its all we have.
Dontcha love Dick Cheney? Isn't he just the epitome of power? When I behaved as though the rules didn't apply to me, I got arrested. Clearly not every time, or I'd still be sitting in jail, and I'm not suggesting Cheney should be arrested, but that guy really flies above it all. He just doesn't have to play nicely like the rest of the kiddies on the yard.
Well, enough political commentary for a non-election year.
The sun is out, my coffee's cold, and the most exciting thing I'm doing today is getting my teeth cleaned at 1:00. My shoulder is awful, still, and I hear surgery is a bitch. I am simultaneously embracing and dreading the idea. My arm hangs from its socket by skin and muscle, unaided by ligament, which is a real unsung hero in my world right now. Really, it isn't quite that serious, but it feels like it, and is the center of my thoughts most days, and spring is coming, and I can't use my shovel and that pisses me off. I'm planning to re-do the back yard so there is a pad for the pool (pavers) and sod for Sid to shit on. (say that three times fast: she sells seashells at the seashore...) and there is much to do. I understand that I will be out of commission for a couple of months, really, and the therapy is killer. But here is my plan: have surgery, get well, kick opiates, start yoga. It has been a long winter and I'm achin' for springtime.
What is the sound of one hand gardening?
The garden: post-hedge, pre-fence circa 2004
the garden midway taking the hedge down. This was the view into the neighbor's yard. Picture the cast of Deliverance.
The back yard in 2004 I think.
2 comments:
Good luck on your surgery. My neck/elbow surgery is March 2nd. Once again, sisters in pain.
As for politics... it's open season along the language barrier. Fuck Dick Cheney. He's the hand up the ass of the Bush puppet, a drunk, a dirty bastard, and a brutal war criminal. He "weeps" on the Fox Propaganda network because he got drunk and accidently shot one of his lawyers in the face but denys the torture, murder and mayhem he has unleashed on the world.
Actually it is an election year, midterm for some senate seats...
when is your surgery? months of recovery? damn, that sounds awful.
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