I felt slightly less silly this evening, and I made it through ten minutes and 32 seconds of breathing, followed by a session in which I was supposed to experience what was going on in my body from crown of head to tip of toe. (Gas, twitching, and the random mild ache. I didn't need meditation to tell me that.)
In knitting news, I'm approaching the heel flap on the second baby sock, and I've done nothing on Avery's sweater since Sunday night.
Nor have I quilted, but I've been faithful at doing the basics of my PT homework at least once a day. So that's something.
I also nearly dropped a half-full jar of mango marmalade while making my PBJ for dinner tonight, and in the effort to keep hold of the jar, I torqued my neck and back. Not badly (I hope) but dishearteningly.
If I'm already anticipating my resurrected body at my current age, I can only imagine how sweet the anticipation will be in another 30 years.
Work went well. I'm going to take my meds, maybe use the thumper on my back and neck, and call it a day.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!