Shingles mild, knee balky, blocks coming together
The title says it all. Yes I have shingles, but it's a very mild case and I'm on an anti viral. My knee is achy unless I take ibuprofen. Mandolin blocks are designed, and I left out the fabrics, (pictured above) also used for the Myrtle quilt, which needs four blocks arranged, which I'll sort later today.
But not everything makes it onto this blog; in a week I'm supposed to join my eldest daughter's family on holiday. Flight is involved, travel out of our home state. Suddenly my participation is in doubt, especially for how wonky my knee feels this morning. Shingles isn't the issue, or it's not at this moment, lol. More is how feasible is loads of walking when one's meniscus is dodgy.
How difficult is life when delightful plans are thrown askew by ailments (and I won't mention an abysmal government); it's not a crisis of MASSIVE proportions, yet I am stymied by what to do, or more rightly I am (not so) patiently waiting until Monday to make a decision. The flight and my hotel room can be cancelled, so that's relieving, but the notion of not sharing that getaway with beloveds ISN'T what I'd imagined when this trip was initially organized. Shingles, really? Messing up my knee by half an hour of weeding, seriously? Well, three days of forty minutes of weeding, but good grief! Yet these impediments are in the road, my road, and I can't ignore them. All I can do is give them another couple days, then....
Then I'll listen to my heart, and go, or stay, where it indicates. I haven't packed, although a list is lengthy. I haven't checked the destination's weather since finding that tell-tale rash on my left shoulder. All I've done is see a physician, get a prescription, then take it easy. I cut most of yesterday's fabrics, or a good half of them, while seated at my work table. I haven't enjoyed my daily walk, though I'll probably go out this afternoon. I've ingested pain meds and the anti viral, both of which are doing what they're supposed to do, for which I am GRATEFUL. And of course, I have prayed for healing, patience, guidance, and to cheerfully accept what I didn't anticipate.
One rarely expects the Spanish Inquisition, you know.
What did/do I expect is a curious query. I expect to gracefully accept whatever comes my way, albeit with a smirk or slight scowl attached if the result is staying home. If the answer is to travel, I'll take all fortifications I can squeeze into the luggage, as well as the honest attitude of This isn't going to be the holiday I thought it was. Yet, when is life exactly as we think it's gonna be? Raising chickens huh, where'd that idea come from? Kawandi quilting, what the heck is that about? No writing for over a year and a half, are you kidding me? Publishing three novels in less than three months, no freakin' way! And that's just what I've experienced since the start of the year, not to mention sewing flags, joining protests, contacting my congressional reps.... Um yeah, 2025 has been one WEIRD year. Why not add shingles and an aggravated meniscus to the pile.
What happened to my Alexandria quilt being completed this year, huh? Where's all the Enran Chronicles books I'm itching to draft? How am I supposed to clear garden space for flowers if I can't even be on my knees for a few hours on a few straight days? (Not to mention clean the shower, ahem, but that's not a major loss, lol.) Life is TEEMING with the unexpected, inexplicable, the surprising and unplanned and at times wholly infuriating and at other times wholeheartedly MARVELOUS. We plan and God decides is one mantra, and often I embrace that, usually after something previously arranged goes pear-shaped. More to occur is my quiet, usually thankful acceptance of this, that, or another shiny that pops out of the wild blue yonder, for I am creeping toward fifty-nine years of age, this ain't my first rodeo of shite or miracles happening. And yes, it's unfortunate I wrote shite before miracles, because the miraculous SHOULD come first, but my knee aches and my shoulders feel itchy/twitchy and I really wanna go on holiday with my family, but somehow I don't think that's gonna happen.
Or if it does, I'll be limited, but better to be limited than not with them at all. Better to be planning out the ends of English paper piecing projects than fretting about them dwelling in totes forever. Better to be actively engaged with like-minded Americans than to be stewing in silence, although my balky knee precludes much marching at rallies. Next Saturday either I'll be on a plane, or hanging out at home while family heads for their brief vacation and many within my nation gather to protest the current administration. Which fork in the road remains undetermined on this Saturday morn.
Patience, Future Me whispers. Stay the course, she adds.
Uh-huh, I nod, wondering if I should take some pain pills.
Finish your chapters, she smirks. Then if you need something.... She walks away, fully aware of what happens in seven days, but not proffering me any hint. Which means: Wrap up this post, get back to Brave the Skies: The Hawk Book Two, then see how the knee feels. And on this marvelous, miraculous life goes....
