thank full

I am full of thanks for the kind wishes and support from everyone, IRL and online, during my recovery. It fills my heart with such happiness that there are so many kind souls in the big, bad world. I received cards, calls and emails from many friends and family over the past week. One dear friend calls me every day to make sure I am feeling better. My BFM calls every other hour to give me a status update on the rest of the world. Last night she called to tell me she was enjoying a Strongbow in my honor. She knows I can't drive til I'm off my meds, so she is safe from me beating her out of jealousy. Yes, I can't drink until I'm fully recovered as well. It's a cruel sentence. I received flowers from multiple sources, all delightful. My darling MIL wanted to send something special. So she did. She sent a rose bush. A. Rose. Bush. That now must be planted. Planted. I am restricted from lifting, straining, carrying, and other wise using any muscles for the the next three weeks. So it will sit, and most likely eventually die, in my nearly complete kitchen. Thank you MIL. It is indeed special.

And as if the Universe was smiling down on me, all this came during an unusually slow week at Creative HQ. I had wrapped up one project, am starting another next week and I am waiting on responses from two others to go forward. Calls were made to cancel appearances, emails of forgiveness were sent, and my week was cleared to spend loafing about, moaning listlessly and drink gallons of juice and water. One would think a week at home doing nothing was heaven, lo! it is not. The first few days I required assistance to sit down and stand up, being that my core muscles were previously cut into, rendering them gobs of goo. Now I can move about on my own and hubby has gone back to work. I putter around slowing, looking at the mounds of dog hair piling up in the corners, cursing the weeds growing in the flower beds, and lament the time wasted when I could be staining trim to match the new floor in my kitchen. And, our house has a funny smell. Dogs+recovery+construction+6 weeks since last cleaned=stanky. Being OCD, it is driving me to the brink. Anyone want to do something special (a-hem, MIL) for the medically challenged? Send Merry Maids and a gallon of bleach. And food. We have none and someone can't drive to the grocery store for a few more days.

One thing I can do is shuffle out to the backyard to check in on my container garden. I don't do big gardens. I tried it the first year we lived here. We have a raised planter at back of our yard and I found that it is too easy to forget to water, weed and care for it since it is "so" far way from the house. So I learned to garden in containers that are on the deck, within reach and relatively low maintenance. I have tomatoes, Anaheim peppers, lavender, basil and mint. There was cilantro, but an early spring heat wave killed it off. I've been waiting for my tomatoes to ripen for about a week. There was one last week that had just started to turn. I went out today to check on it, and it was gone. Gone! Some mutherf*cking squirrel must have taken it. D*mned good for nothing dogs! Bet you carried the little f*cks grocery bags to his car for him, too.

Do you see what my world has been reduced to? Tales of squirrels and groceries.

But I am so thankful. Indeed. Mutherf*cking squirrels.