(I am mightily resisting making a bad musical pun right now.)
You know you are a high-mileage patient when you are ecstatic that the IV for your CT scan only took one needle stick. (I can’t remember the last time that happened. Three is average. Seven is not unheard of.) The scan on Friday went quickly and very smoothly. (I’m not reading any meaning into that. No. I am not. Not.)
One way to keep from thinking about Impending Big News is to focus on the mundane. I’ve been keeping busy, with work, and with household tasks. On Saturday I gave the chicken coop the first full cleaning it’s had in months, moving a bunch of well-used bedding into the first stage of our composting process. I’m looking forward to next summer’s supply of rich high-nitrogen compost. It wasn’t much later before I was really feeling my back and shoulder muscles stiffening and tightening up. Still, it’s a ‘good kind of tired’.
I was eager to get the coop taken care of yesterday because today will be no day for working outside. The seasons are definitely changing here in Seattle, and today storms will be moving through the area. This morning has dawned dim, foggy and damp. There is a black raven perched on the wire outside the window. I hear a mournful foghorn and occassional distant thunder. (I’m not going to be reading any meaning into that, either. No. I am not. Not.)
The sense of impending winter makes me even more satisfied with two other small projects completed yesterday. I replaced a broken light fixture in our basement, and I swapped out a broken switch in my bedside lamp. The shorter days and the return of the rain have me subconsciously seeking the missing light.
Yesterday wrapped up with a good exercise walk just before sunset. As we often do, Kimberly and I walked over to the neighborhood community garden. There Kimberly has a small plot in which she grows things like tomatoes and tomatillos that need the full sun our yard does not provide. Her tomatillo plants have been thriving this year, and branches shoot every-which-way, with dozens of the lantern-shaped husks in which grow the green fruit. I used twine to tie back a few branches that were sticking out into the pathway, and we trimmed off a few more that won’t have time to actually bear fruit this year. We were happy to see some real red on a couple of her slower-to-ripen tomato plants. I had been worried they wouldn’t make it in this season. After a bit of trimming and tying back, Kimberly picked a small harvest of the ripest fruit, and we carried it back home.
After all that exercise, I managed to sleep pretty well. I’m happy that I’m not feeling too wiped out this morning. Today’s plan is for a rest and recovery day – the most physical thing on the schedule is a short drive to see a college friend give a presentation on her recent PhD research. Oh, and I hear tonight’s match for one of our local sports-entertainment corporations should be quite a show, so I’ll be watching that while lounging on the sofa. And, with apologies to Fleetwood Mac, not thinking about tomorrow.
(By the way, if you haven’t guessed what’s the musical pun, based on the title of this post? This is.)