It's important that when you have a fat cast boot on your foot to keep it immobile and you stick it up on a chair, it's important that you try to pour tea from the kettle into the mug over your lap and then slip and spill boiling hot tea water all over your crotch.
Then leap up screaming. Hobble to the bathroom with scalded thighs. Put a bunch of Foille on it as my granddaddy would. Then sit on the toilet and start laughing. Because at this point, just bring it on.
It's raining like Noah's second coming. I have to double trash bag my boot to go out and check on the barn. They told me not to do anything to put everything down and sit with my foot up. But I'm allowed to walk. But my walking involves cleaning and heavy lifting daily. I've been pretty good for me, only a little bit of mucking. No lifting. I do want my bone to heal perfectly. But I got shit to do. I couldn't have done it without gay Leo mucker from down the street. He is a perfect barn boy. In the rain even. But I like being Leo. I hate being stymied. I said stymie.
The only good part is I can't ride so I have been fixing up Lewis and Clark and putting better words in their mouths. Honing. I could do quite a bit of honing in this down time.
Then I'm sick of everyone, B having his computer and bank problems, the hacking and the fraud, and then trying to wheel my mom around when I had only one leg that was actually the worst days of my life. You start looking at your life when you don't have your health and capacity, and everything looks like a horrible burden. Your regular, light life that keeps you humming. Being outdoors in the sun everyday with the horses after getting mom set up in the morning, that was a good balance. Even the doctor said my Vitamin D was excellent. I know it is!
Then Johnny texted that he was in the emergency room and now I haven't heard from him in days. Did Johnny Washer also die? I washed my mom today in my hobbled boot, not a great Johnny job but better than a dead Johnny could do, at least she looks better. We went to the bank with my sore foot in the rain but Nathan and I got ice cream. I think things hurt as they heal. Maybe that's what's happening with my ankle. I hope. Cause it really hurts. I imagine the concrete ankle guys scurrying in there in my leg on emergency power, trying to lay the better bone, trying to work with me who has trouble staying off the foot. I'll try to help you guys.
It is nice to sort of rest. I was doing too much. I was recovering from motherhood. I miss swimming though. I miss being semi agile. I love my life so much. From the couch, I just see how dottering everything is around me. It's a bit sad to see how struggling everyone is, and when I say everyone I mean B. He' s normally just there, like wallpaper, we live simultaneously creating this life but we don't have to bother each other with tragedy. Then tragedy monster trucked through our house leaving tire treads in mud.
And then Thanksgiving and Christmas barreling at us and I have no whimsy to greet these good times. I have time. I hope.
