It’s interesting watching the birds really flock at the feeders just a little before it starts to rain. They know it’s coming and they want nourishment against the cold and the water in a safe, dry place.
Thank you all, meantime, for the support, and I knitted a few rows today. Decided it wasn’t worth pushing it too soon, but at the same time I was delighted that I could. Another day or two and it’ll all be back to normal.
Me: “I don’t WANT to do a liquid diet! I’m hungry and I want some real food!”
Hubby, looking at me steadily: “Nasal gastric tube.”
He had me and he knew it. Four days that felt ever increasingly like having surgery without anesthesia. Never again.
Well, at least you can pack a lot of nourishment into soup. So now the blockage, too, which had been ignoring my protests of I so did not earn it, is starting to improve. And Don is right: Stones into Schools, written by Mortenson himself, is the better book, but Three Cups of Tea, the one that made the man’s name and cause known, is vastly important in its own write.
Remember my dying tomato plant of a month ago? Its main branches are just straws now, bent in half from birds landing on it and going Whoa! as the stems collapsed under them–I saw them.
I discovered a new tomato on a small, still-green branch yesterday. It cheered me greatly, and all the more today.