Yesterday Lukie did his best to cheer me up. He made me laugh so hard it wasn't pretty. Laughing after surgery hurts. A lot. And then I couldn't stop. I told him my stomach felt like a bowl full of jelly. "LUCKY!" he replied. "YOU'RE LIKE SANTA!"
Then Colin brought home a beautiful homemade dinner from our friends, Burke and Muriel. It was wonderful.
I didn't have the energy to change my nail color to pretty.
When I was in the hospital I was struck by how much my room and the whole area felt like a prison. I don't think that's good. They called my area Tower 10. I think that's a terrible horrible name.
I got a call from a major network television show while I was in the Tower. They had no idea I was incarcerated hospitalized. I tried hard to sound super happy. My fingers are crossed that they'll invite me to appear on their show.
Retail therapy is great. I like the new CB2 catalog.
I can count 47 orphaned pumpkins in the field from my perch on the sofa. I used to teach the boys that no man gets left behind with their G.I. Joes. Now I feel like a hypocrite.
Now that I have an interest in boxers, I might stop buying them on clearance. Today's pattern is beer mugs and pretzels. Boooo.
Painting by the amazing Holly Farrell.
