Sooo, since I'm still on the pain meds, I'll catch up on the all the bitsos in my "to blog" folder that I never got around to. And then, back to real work. -- Also, Hemingway fell off of the barn the other day. He's banged and bruised (I mean seriously), and the house is now The Stubborn Fool's Convalescent Home. Poor Fleur, she's taking care of both of us. I took off the surgical bandage yesterday. My shoulder looks just like I've been shot in three places. There are pics of the INSIDE of my shoulder that I'll get up here soon, because once you stop thinking about what they are, they're really cool looking. I've read three (admittedly trashy, funny, pop) novels this week. It's foggy and Fleur says that there's been so much rain easing down lately that she could hear the ground Percolating when she fed the horses this morning. Also, the irises and snapdragons are blooming; the tress that burned in the late frost are coming back, and the peonies are about to burst open. Peonies!!! I'm living on a corner of the couch, where my cats brave confrontation with Foxy (the red healer) to come see me. And people say cats have no loyalty. Those people just aren't very connected to their cats. More on other subjects in moments. But, am wildly stuck here, and kinda bored, so if you feel like calling me, please call me, but don't expect me to tell you stories. I don't have any right now.
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