Countdown to the impossible...

Aside from the door knob, I did find that there was another benefit to organizing the utility space in the basement.  You see, I found a great "tool" for me there.  Among the things I organized was a collection of work gloves.  I put them in one of the green boxes along the top shelf.

When I move the rank of wood from garage to porch, I always get splinters in my hands. Amos, unfortunately, has been little help in getting those pesky, painful slivers of wood out of my fingers.  I tried wearing my gardening gloves, but those are not really effective in helping me grip the logs.  Too, they provide little protection when I smash my fingers between two logs since dropping logs is always a part of my moving logs.

Today, needing more wood on my back porch, I thought about that box of work gloves and went to fetch it.  Sure enough, at the bottom of it was this pair of leather work gloves.  Someone left them in my house in Alexandria (I think), when I was renovating the basement.  I am not sure why I did not just donate them then or at some other point along the way.  In any case, they are perfect for moving logs!  So, all of that organizing netted me a solution to the door to the ash dump swinging open during fires, a door knob for the basement room, and protection when I am ferrying wood for my beloved fires.

While I was moving the wood, my neighbor's son told me that there was an impending leaf pick up.  I did not want to rake.  The more I stand on my foot, the more it hurts.  The more I walk on it, the more whatever is moving moves.  However, the front yard was covered and a portion of the back yard as well.  Knowing that all I had to do is rake the leaves to the park strip, I trudged out front to work.

I absolutely cannot dig holes anymore.  Well, raking is apparently like digging.  I would make a few passes and was exhausted.  My arm muscles were burning, especially the torn one in my upper right arm.  So, I raked a bit and rested.  Raked a bit and rested.  Raked a bit and rested.  I HATED all leaves.

I suppose I also hated the raking because I had too much time to think.

I talked some more today about my dream, given that I have not really slept much since awaking in great fear on Monday.  It was pointed out to me that three of my greatest fears were combined in one dream.  And, in a sense, the dream mirrored a small part of something I have to do next Wednesday that I do not want to do.  In truth, I honestly do not believe in the slightest bit that I will have any chance of actually doing it.  I am afraid of the procedures and I am afraid of my response to the procedures.  No matter that they are needful and were needful a long time ago if only a surgeon had not lied to me about the surgery she performed or even if any of the other specialists had actually read my records.

Despite how weak and silly I am right now, with only seven more months of insurance, I must do this. I cannot wait until I am stronger...until it would be safer for me.  So, the days are passing swiftly, dragging me along toward those procedures.  Apparently, my mind is even more worried than I knew. And one deep fear illumines others buried with it.

Amos, left to his own devices whilst I raked, spent his time turning his white paws black.  And his belly.  So, tonight was a bath night.  Tonight was a night of snuggling with a silky soft, sweet smelling, swaddled, snoring puppy dog.  Tonight was a time of not thinking, not worrying, not trembling in fear.  Tonight was a night of talking with Bettina as she worked, savoring a fire, and copious amounts of puppy therapy.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!