The dog walk group was small yesterday; it was lovely but tough walking in the snow, however the sunshine made our way seem like we were walking through a glittering Christmas card. And when I got home, my street was being plowed.
That’s one amazing part of island life: Potholes get filled regularly and snow is cleared quickly. We had a nice wide path to our postal boxes cleared fresh every day. And if you ever need an ambulance, it takes minutes here. We have a quicker response rate than the city.
Once home, I chopped wood to make kindling—a process I’ve made easier by raising my chopping block. Back pain inspires adaptation. Plus, I could stand still; walking in the snow made my bad hip ache. Once done, I hit the couch, the fire and my pets were welcome comfort.
Then I remembered that when my wrist was killing me, someone had recommended Ibuprofen to reduce inflammation, so I searched the remaining pills out and took two. And in about twenty minutes, walking was bearable. Ibuprofen is my new drug of choice. What a miracle it was to get such quick and satisfying relief.
The coming week is predicted to be 7° and cloudy with showers. Soon the snow will be gone. The forest trails are so nasty with lakes, I doubt I’ll go on the community dog walk tomorrow. Instead, Sheba and I’ll walk where we usually do.
This life I lead is so not what I expected for myself—all day, every day, alone and without a project or marijuana (I’ve never been a drinker). But time passes pleasantly enough; I don’t feel lonely or bored, than God. I’ve begun a huge thick Jonathan Franzen book, The Corrections. And I’ve been watching Messiah on Netflix.