Stacked in a Holding Pattern

I’ve been on the couch for days, hurting like hell. The medicines that the doctor gave me are helping a little bit. When I say “little bit”, I mean a really wee small little bit. I can still feel the muscle tension in my back, the ache and stiffness in my hip, and the radiating pain in my leg. So I’ve been pretty useless around here.

The compost heap is slowly being scattered to the four corners of the earth by the chickens, and my compost bucket near my front door is full to overflowing. Half of the trench closest to my house is still holding standing water. The house is a wreck, with only the barest minimum of cleaning going on so that I don’t wind up with the cure to cancer growing in my kitchen sink. My compound bow sits there mocking me, as do the barbells that I got to help me build up strength to actually do something with that bow. My car needs repairs but I’ve been in no condition to drive it to our mechanic over in Shreveport.

Sunshine has been working a lot since the great septic system debacle. He shuttles back and forth to Shreveport, even working weekends in an attempt to try and put aside the cash for the next phases of our little house build. He’s even taken my car over to the mechanic, which is really sweet of him (and makes me feel like a total shitheel for adding one more thing to his already full plate).

We’re basically in a holding pattern. It sucks that I am physically unable to do more to help right now, but this most recent bout of pain has been bad enough that it’s one of those things I’ll never forget (kind of like the last time I detoxed). So I’m back to my couch to binge watch “Supernatural” on Netflix and maybe pin some more ideas for our little house.

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