I think I hate December. And the Holidays.
Bad memories. Bad things continuing to happen. The enforced cheerfulness weighs like a boulder on my heart.
And now I’m waiting to hear about my daughter’s shoulder injury. The CT scan showed “pieces”. That can’t be good and my spidey sense whispers… surgery. We’ll talk with the surgeon later today.
Finishing up the next episode in the Ranch to Market Chronicles seems a distant memory. The critters need attention. Ro needs help doing even simple tasks. If stuff hasn’t broken down, it’s merely not quite time for the next disaster. I’m too tired and distracted to write.
I wonder if I’ll ever get back to it.
But, on the bright side… we have running water and flush toilets again. For that I am very grateful. Confining the chickens, the four remaining after the hawk and raccoon slaughters, has made a huge difference. They are easier to deal with during the winter with access to a heated bucket of water and a safe haven in a wire mesh ‘house’. No eggs though. I really must have a word with the Barred Rocks.
I dunno… is this the new normal for us?