Yesterday it reached seventy one degrees Fahrenheit. Wonder. Amazement. Today it’s bitterly cold with 20 mph winds. My first hand experience of this was to test my poopie grappling skills, kid you not: second poopie of the walkie for Chipper, major intersection so the winds are higher, fewer buildings to shield us from them. So, I thought, effing A, here we go, I should use the wind to my advantage. I need it to open the bag for me. I need it to close the bag for me. Would it would grab the ties with gloved hands (! always a bit of a fumble in Wintertime) for me as well, but no, I managed that alone. Meanwhile Chipper is braving the winds on the sidewalk, watching Mama proudly, or I would like to think he is. Patiently, at least, he is.
Tornadic times this Spring. That’s when we would expect tornados when I lived in Tennessee and Georgia growing up, when the season changed, and, well, during the Summer, August, September, but mostly when the seasons changed. When the heat and cold were fighting. Last night the winds were so fierce they were scaring me. I had the IPod on with Feist for a while and then I was ready to sleep and then there were the winds, but eventually even they lulled me to sleep in their way. Lord I want Feist’s new album, but I want so many new albums I have a hard time choosing, but that one keeps coming up. Hee.
It’s wierd to see this long red mark on my neck now, like what did I think was going to be there, heh. I imagine this Spring, which light scarves, how much concealer I’ll need. So vain. There’s this Lorax commercial and the joke is “That’s a woman?” and I never want my femininity to be in question, no matter how I age. Really. That’s how vain I am. That’s how seriously I take the thing. What happens to Boy when I consider that? Ida know. But the rest of me takes that very seriously. Some Southern femininity quotient?
Oh. Didn’t get into the local publisher’s group. That’s okay. The more I read into their group, the less I could see my book fitting. They are a fine group with a fine bead on what they are looking for and memoir/fantasy — not really fitting. So I’m looking for a good copy editor — and .. I’m not sure — I don’t have a lot of passion/energy stored up since the surgery to go after much else for now — let it be for now. But copy editing I need. A second revision. I don’t trust myself anymore to do it because I should have seen them before.
I’m so excited about physical therapy and working on my core — I can’t express how excited I am about next steps toward getting on with my health in one way or another. Even just walking again on a new day when it is much less windy. Hee.
I get a bit tired quickly still. Oh. They said I’m not anemic for B12 standards anymore but my MCV or premature red blood cell count was 108. Argh — so will follow up in a month or so with the doctor on what if anything needs to be done with that. I’m so hopeful my energy will balance/even out soon. It was so much better in January comparatively with the B12 tablets and I think after the anesthesia or whatever gets out of me I should be much better in the proverbial Spring — April?
So I did two patches in shades of purple and earned my place back in bed. This work is really a puzzle. It took forever it seemed to decide on that shade of purple and where, too.
Reading Eudora Welty is going well. Several sad tales and finally one that is making me laugh — yay! Not that I mind stories of a tragic South. I want to know her landscape. I don’t know really what I was expecting. Willows and white clapboard houses? Long green lawns? Hardly.