when you spend the better part of your day sitting on your bum?!
Each day is a little better, but my body sure is taking it's own sweet time in getting back to normal. I guess that as long as I am moving forward and not backward, I won't complain. It's a good thing I live alone, though, for I am really a lousy patient.
The middle of last week my dogs were scheduled for their semi-annual shave down. I have them shaved for two reasons. The first is that I am lazy when it comes to daily brushing. They get a good brush-out once a week. And second, if I were to keep them in a traditional Yorkie cut, they would have to go in every eight weeks to maintain it. And even with the discount my friend the groomer gives me, it still is spendy. Anyway, I called my friend to let her know that I would have to reschedule as soon as my body would allow me to go up and down the stairs. She said no problem. Her shop is next door. She said that for me should would do pick-up and delivery. So now the Yorkies look like chihuahuas. They must like it, for they act like puppies for about two weeks or so after their haircuts.
As long as I wasn't going anywhere over the holiday weekend, I decided that a good way to spend Memorial Day would be to work on entering information into my genealogy program. I couldn't go visit any of my ancestor's graves, but I could make sure that they are not forgotten. Genealogy research can become an obsession, and I believe that it is with me. I can happily spend hours going over census records or old church records online to glean just one more bit of information about an ancestor. I truly hope that in years to come, one of my children or grandchildren will catch the genealogy bug. It is good to know where we came from.
Being sidelined has it's good side. I was able to finish the afghan I have been working on for my oldest granddaughter. I had started another one, but after crocheting a piece about a yard square, I decided I wasn't all that pleased with it. So I finished it off, folded it up and tossed it into the basket where Kizzy the cat likes to sleep. She seems to like it, for she hasn't left the basket except to eat and use the litter box and to join me in my recliner now and then. I wonder why cats sleep most of their lives away.
As you can see, not much exciting going on here. But now that I think about it, there is never anything very exciting going on here. I have known people who aren't happy if their lives aren't filled with drama. I am truly grateful that I am not one of those people. My quiet life, whether it is forced recovery or whether it is day to day quiet, suits me.
Good thing, too, or I would be bat-s**t crazy by now!