Slowly I am feeling better. The weather has been cooperating with sunny days, although we still have some drought. Where we have had gorgeous autumn months in previous years, the trees this fall went from green to dead brown. Seasonal aberration throws me off and makes me cranky.
Although it’s finally chilly here, I turned on the soaker hose in the side yard this morning. I want to give the shrubs a good watering before we have hard freezes. Plants die in winter, not from cold but from thirst.
As usual the leaves from our oak tree and the neighbor’s linden trees have piled up in our yard. We should rake them up because the county will begin leaf collection soon, but both of us have bum shoulders, me with a torn rotator cuff, David with arthritic joint issues.
I saw my orthopedic surgeon last Friday and got another shot, the effect from which allowed me to manage a mammogram. He also prescribed more physical therapy. I hope it helps because the thought of yet another surgery gives me heartburn. After sharing his 20 year struggle with a bad shoulder, our dentist proclaimed our teeth sound, and his receptionist suggested all these medical appointments “get you out.” Haha, the thoughts of youth.
Meanwhile I push along as does David. Later this morning we head to the Heidelberg bakery to pick up lunch. He wants his bratwurst and I want my candy coated almonds. Not a bad day planned as long as I can ignore the leaf piles.
David Brooks NY Times opinion writer and Friday evening PBS opinion giver says we should all be happy and give Trump a chance. David goes up and down with the Stock Market. First, we don’t have a choice. Second, a chance to do what? And Third, David, do you mean like the chance the Republicans gave Obama?
I just hope Trump has the good sense to appoint Mitt Romney Secretary of State. Mitt is a really decent man and actually has government experience. He has even worked with Liberals. Mitt worked to save the Olympics so we know he has people skills. The thought of crazy Rudy running around the world scares me.
And to end on a happier note. Above my favorite little great-grandson.