Monday, April 1, 2013


I was as big and bright as the moon the first few days of spring.
And then I wasn't.

Worry about the re-fi, the Someone's lack of co-operation to get the new court order which would help me prove my income so I could get the re-fi, my inability to shoehorn my budget into its rather fragile and smaller glass slipper (first world problems--I know,) and why was I so confused about my mom's prescriptions, and why was I feeling so incredibly awful...blah, blah.

Turns out I had every possible reaction on the information sheet to both the shingles vaccination and the Tdap booster--except for severe shortness of breath and a closing throat. Five days later, left arm still has a lump and a sore muscle, and the right arms still has a bright red itchy welt, but it looks like the re-fi is going through anyway, and I've figured out how to better manage my mom's many drugs, which have grown in number.

And the little songbirds birds have found the feeder (most blah bird photos ever, but in real life they are lovely little creatures) We have three kinds of sparrows and at least one kind of finch--maybe two. And so far the plastic owls have deterred both the swallows and the pigeons.

The lovely M came home for a visit and pacified the ancient cat, and me, and her grandmother.

And friends will arrive on Thursday. And perhaps the man who loves me will come up here this weekend.


Ms. Moon said...

We just keep on with it and eventually, it's better. Right? Oh. I do hope so.

Elizabeth said...

Wonderful. And I do love the soft look of your blog -- especially that top photo!

Suz said...

oh how do you manage it all?
and so well
Happy for you about the re-fi
and your birds are pure joy
looks like spring to me

Andrea said...

Congratulations on the re-fi and that beautiful daughter who calms the ancient cat. The ancient cat here would like it if I sat like that with her all day and all night so she could purr and shed and reminisce with me about more lively times and then nap, all without having to put up with a single disturbance other than those she chooses for herself. Unlike us. If only we could choose our disturbances. Shingles shots, we might say, oh no. Not now, thank you very much.