In The Song of the Lark, Cather began a description of a winter day with, "The air was a tender blue-grey, the color on the doves that flew in and out of the white dove house . . ." Today's sky is more gray than tender but that might be my mood. Earlier, fog enveloped backyards in the neighborhood and then it was gone.
|Rest in Peace|
I wish my back was as tough as these boots but it is not. Last week, I was tired of being cooped up and the sidewalks were still icy/slushy. So I put on my new footwear and scooped off the front sidewalk. I know better. Repeating a lifting/twisting motion, as in scooping and tossing slush is not good for my back. After a work-related injury years ago, my back has limits. If I exercise and stretch, I am mostly pain free. I know this but I chose to ignore it and so pulled a muscle in my upper back.
Last night, I knit for an hour on an easy garter stitch shawl and listened to the end of The Secrets of Wishtide, a light mystery. I needed entertaining so this mystery fit the bill. I thought the author repeated some phrases too many times but this is the first in a series. I enjoyed it enough I'll give the second one a try.
Usually within a week or so, my back muscles return to what is normal for me. If not, I'll have to seek physical therapy. In the meantime, I am treating myself with tenderness. And so tender, as in easily hurt. I have a tender back and I would do well to tend it.
Take good care of yourself today.