A thought...

Amos and I hung out on the airing porch today.

Looking out into the neighborhood is not the best view ever, but it is ever so nice to be outside and still feel safe.  Amos agrees with me.

I had my Kindle with me, but mostly I watched the clouds drift by.

And then I watched the sunset.
And took many, many, many photos, from many, many, many angles.
Amos stayed on the steamer lounger, curled up beneath the quilt.

Whilst I was doing all that cloud watching, I caught sight of the ancient broom that I used to brush off the snow all winter.  The wooden handle is in horrid shape.  Hmmm....

The broom hanging from the hook on the wall of the back porch is also very old and horrid. I found three old and horrid conditioned brooms in the garage.  Ever since I repaired and opened up the back porch, I have wanted a new broom to hang on the hook by the back door.  A dozen times, at least, I have put one in my shopping cart only to take it back out.  A pretty broom for the beautified back porch is a want not a need.

My thought was this:  I could at least prime and then paint (GREEN, of course) the ancient wooden handle on the broom I keep up on the airing porch.  That way, I could have one pretty broom.  It would be nice to keep it downstairs,  but I wouldn't since I can't hang it up on the hook and having it just leaning against the wall would probably disturb my visual rest.

Now, on the Nutter Scale of 1-10, just how crazy is it to prime and paint an ancient, decrepit wooden handled broom that is probably as old as I am??

Also, how do I get a broom to stand up by itself so that I can prime and paint it????

Anyway, I had one other thing to note:  I am fairly sure Becky will be the only person to understand the magnitude of this statement, but I took my socks off whilst resting on the steamer lounger.  [I am an avowed firm believer of covered feet.] Remember the small toe I damaged?  Well, it took asking someone else to look at it because I just cannot see it to discover that I didn't just rip off the toenail, but I sheered off a portion of my toe.  That's probably why it bleed for so long and still hurts immensely even in socks and why it hurt so much when I was taping it to the toe next to it.

The air was so warm today, I took off my socks and my feet did not turn blue at all.  So, for a while, I had no pressure on the flattened sore of my small toe.  I do see the GP next week.  I suppose I should have her look at the wound.  I think it is healing, just taking a long time.

The thing I didn't mention before about breaking my other small toe so many times is that if I am not careful, my left small toe bends upwards as well as down.  It hurts to do that, but mostly it creeps me out so much I have a small anxiety attack whilst I try and shove the fact that it bends in the wrong direction back down to the recesses of my mind.

I am not really pleased that I sheered off a portion of my right small toe.  I'd like it to be round.  The way toes should be.  I am not much interested in a flat-top toe.

Basically, my feet are only ever bare in the shower.  Now, with Raynaud's, I often have two socks and those neoprene slippers on to keep them warm.  There I was, lying on the steamer lounger, counting up all the hurts in my body, and I wondered if I could lessen one hurt for a while if I removed my sock.  I felt wicked and daring as I removed it.  But it sure felt better without anything touching my toe.  Because I am a daughter of a woman who firmly believes in all things matching I removed the other sock.

Notice, though, in the picture above, my feet were artfully left out of the frame.  I don't think the world is ready for my bare feet.