I’m baaaaack.
That’s right — after two months of physical therapy, one cervical pillow, a very uncomfortable and by now somewhat odiferous wrist brace, three sets of resistance bands, and one not particularly bouncy ball I’m supposed to keep behind my head when I sit against the wall later, I’m all but done with physical therapy. I can now move my head like an adult in my 50’s instead of an 88 year old, my wrist only aches when I try to left something heavy, and I’m about 95% of the way back to normal.
I’m also planning to do back to the gym again after my physical therapist clears me for more vigorous exercise. I’ve slacked off quite a bit since the horrendous election of 2016, and that is ending by July at the latest. My body is mine, and the second half of this year will be when I reclaim it from despair and the vagaries of middle age.
Also, I’m going to start writing these diaries again.
Due to a variety of other commitments I’m going to stick to the every other week schedule I established this spring, but it’s past time for fresh diaries. So here’s the lineup through October, God willing, the crick don’t rise, and uncounted trillions of kaiju larvae don’t boil out of the drainpipe in the Last Homely Shack’s downstairs bathroom:
June 15 — The Russian Genius You’ve Never Heard Of
June 29 — Old Patchwork Quilts and the Women Who Misinterpreted Them
July 13 — Solar Pons to the Rescue!
July 27 — The Spear of Silliness
August 10 — Vulcans Should Not Write Poetry
August 24 — The Sparks of Romance
September 7 — They Kissed, Told, and Made Fools of Themselves
September 21 — Carrie Goes to Broadway
See you on the 15th!
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Have you ever been in a car accident? Undergone physical therapy? Had uncounted trillions of kaiju boil out of your the drainpipe in the charming powder room adjacent to your knotty pine rumpus room? It’s a warm Saturday night here in the Last Homely Shack, so pour yourself a beverage of choice and share….
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