this getting old shit is for the birds

I just wrote a paragraph about our continuing medical woes and then I promptly deleted it. I have vowed not to talk about medical stuff so remind me if I go off on a tangent about it. Enough already.

I'm warming up my writing brain to do about four blog posts for River Rock this afternoon. They are in varying stages of completion in a notebook written in pencil and on my computer. I write spasmodically, if that's the word for it. I rarely write in long-hand anymore and can hardly compose an address unless I'm at the keyboard. Writing on cards can be a challenge.

I looked at the marathon coverage in the paper this morning and had a brief moment of regret for not committing to that until I read about the folks who were vomiting and in need of IVs by the end. Nah. I don't think so. As I have said before, my right brain, the side that avoids pain and seeks pleasure is too well-developed. My mantra usually goes something like this, "If I walk for a while, I will feel better and I won't break any bones. This will be over soon. What in the hell made me think this would be fun?"

We had a very busy day yesterday. I picked Elliot up in the morning, Ella and Alex came for lunch, Emily took Gus to the park then came back for pizza and we watched Downton Abbey. A fun Sunday!

One more cup of coffee, one more paragraph...then I have to hit it.

I'm reading Major Pettigrew's Last Stand. I can't remember who recommended it to me but I like it. It's a love story about an English man and a Pakistani woman. Sort of a gentle tea and crumpets story which I don't mind as I'm not much for murder and mayhem in my reading material.

My new boots just came via UPS and that means Zappos is a modern miracle. I order boots on Saturday afternoon and they are delivered to me by Monday. Ah, the smell of new leather.

Here I go.