And the winner is ...

Something is wrong. My keyboard and I are out of sync. My touch screen and I are also out of sync. I'm starting to take this personally. It's true that I am still getting adjusted to the iPad Pro and the new keyboard case (no idea of the brand at the moment), but both seem to need the application of a firm hand, which I do not presently possess. My hands shake, flutter, flake, and shoot sparkles from my fingertips, none of which is normal. Also, they are so icy cold that I cannot get the touch screen to respond.

So that was yesterday, Thursday afternoon, and now it is Friday and things are looking up. I finally made it to Tai Chi class last night, and while I coughed my way through part of it, I managed the rest and felt good. I am getting ready to head over to the office for cookie delivery and lunch date with Terry. Normal!! I feel normal! Had I really been in that much pain for so long?

The only good thing about having such intense pain is that once it finally breaks, the relief is positively giddy-making. I had such a wonderful visit at the office and lunch with Terry. I have plans for the future, including maybe the annual chili contest later today, my first cat show next weekend, and an engagement party in March.  Life is measured in tiny steps now; the good one are too rare and precious to ignore.

Friday was also Cory's birthday, although we'll do our family celebrating at Morimoto's on Sunday. Which is today. See how that works? Writing has become a bit troublesome for me lately, and I haven't been doing much in the way of cooking either. The blog is kind of limping along (like me).

I did cook on Saturday, but it was hardly my best work. Two crockpots chugging along with whatever I'd thrown into them, recipes I'd made before and neither one a hit to my palate.

I indulged my interest in politics, letting myself get all worked up about the Nevada caucuses, ready to write a scathing message to young liberal women regarding their lack of support for Hillary, but I took a walk down by the lakefront instead, and when I got back, she'd been declared the winner. Good thing too, because I was white hot angry. I'll save it for another time.

Finally, I have finished the foot of the last sock, which I feel like I've been knitting since 1983. Once it's done, I'm going to pick up yet another unfinished project and chip away however slowly. At this rate, I won't have to ever buy any more yarn for knitting. Even if I live another 30 years, which is a real possibility, I'll have enough yarn.