Our dear friends, Shelly and Jerry just left Shelly’s home made, veggie pate at our front door.
Though pain meds decrease my appetite, nothing alters my enjoyment of her pate—first of all, because it’s so delicious and—first of all, because it’s so healthy, suggesting that both reasons tie for first place.
Being home is the perfect place to recuperate from surgeries that proved deeply invasive. In order to provide myself with a peaceful emotional environment, conducive to healing, layer by layer, I have sheltered myself from knowledge concerning whatever is taking place in the world beyond my front door. Will and our sons continue to encourage me to minimize arousing frustration, which would run interference with energy directed at healing, by closing my eyes and ears to the fake news churned out, non stop, during The Republican Party’s presidential convention, and as long as physical pain continues to dial up from the inside out, my curiosity remains numb, so my family gets no argument from me.
Week by week, I find myself becoming more independent in terms of self care, and perhaps patio visits with dear friends, separated by our Arcadia door, are not as far off as they seem, right now, when social interaction with anyone other than Steven and Ravi seems to overwhelm my depleted level of energy.
Stay well, dear friends. With patience intact, we’ll have lots to enjoy once my recovery from serious surgeries and our nation’s recovery from trump’s tyranny and threat of Covid have passed ... and perhaps, before too long, true stories, which have layered up inside my head, will begin to ride out of my mind on gentle waves of intuitive thought once daily life feels as calm as a balmy day at the beach ... 🙋🏻♀️Annie
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