A special blogging friend just reminded me I am overdue in posting, and she's right. It's been almost two weeks since I was here, but I can explain, honest.

That surgery I was determined to not keep bringing up to you, was done almost two months ago, and these last weeks, it's feeling like a challenge that's growing, so instead of going on about it, I just quietly retreated, at least from blogging.


I worked hard at developing a plan to avoid that very thing. Besides stocking TV dinners, and doing Physical Therapy exercises, drinking fluids and taking vitamins daily, I intended to live in comfy p.j's, and read so many books, Barne's and Nobel might need to make home delivery for me.

There was a short distraction, while getting rid of those invading skunks, and I am grateful peaceful sleep is allowed once again, with their nocturnal antics finaly done. But getting through this post surgical stuff is taking more than I thought it would, to get me back to whatever normal is again.

I tell myself I'm doing fine with ignoring housecleaning, but I don't think I am. While I've never been fanatical about polishing the floors, and could ignore vacuuming carpets forever, the knowing that you can't, calls for more patience and resolve.

But I'm not giving up. I do understand why the physical therapy is so needed. But there are times when the PT person tells me "Give me fifteen of what I just did, like it's so easy, I can't decide whether to get mad, or cry.

Getting to drive again felt like losing training wheels. When I feel the walls are closing in, I just dress casual, and head out, sometimes almost looking for a kind hearted face. Once in a while a total stranger, noticing my crutch, will hold a door, or ask if I need help.

A few days ago I needed to pay some car insurance. The lady at its office is so likeable and nice, so instead of mailing the payment, I decided to go by. She wasn't terribly busy, so we talked a while, and when I needed to leave, she helped me get through the door. With a friendly smile, and a little gleam in her eyes, she paused a moment, and said: "There's a very nice man, who gets his insurance here." "He's retired, and a little overweight". She mentions, as she points to her belly. I'm wondering why she's telling me about him. "He's a nice guy.' "His wife died some years ago." "He'd probably love having someone to go places with". "I think he enjoys live plays." I'm still on the opening statement of all this, but starting to understand. My car insurance lady wants the two of us to meet.

I don't say "You are kidding, right?" But that's what I'm thinking. While this post operative misery continues, I am also getting a tooth recrowned, so one is missing right now. and my glasses look just awful. I need to take time to get new ones, but don't want to bother right now. My house is a mess. and the yard is even worse, and i can't do much of it.

Getting dressed halfway nice, to go anywhere other than physical therapy and doctors' appointments, sounds more trouble than it's worth. It's been so long since I colored my hair, even I think I look older. Not only all that, I distinctly remember, after trying several eligible guys, giving up on finding a good man.

But for a swift and silly moment, I started wondering if this highly recommended one has a Faith of his own, and please don't tell me he's a smoker, for I couldn't deal with that. Then I
come back to my senses, and decide that Spring Fever is not what I should be dealing with
now. Even getting over surgery is easier than that.