Summer Woolly Mammoth Moon
Lifted a case of 24 cans of wet dog food out of the box on Thursday. Kate happened to be there. The moment I straightened up, I said, “Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that.” I lifted it with my back slightly bent, not with my legs, but my arms. Friday and Saturday were walk around like a hunchback days. I know better, but it had a cardboard cap on it. I took that off and it was very light, just cardboard. Somehow my body took that as a cue that the canned dog food would be light, too, so I let my guard down. Better this morning, but geez. How old am I again?
Kate’s figured something out. She’s been much, much calmer with the grandkids here, better for her and for them. It’s great because she has more fun, doesn’t end their visits exhausted, wiped out. I can see a corner being turned. She’s also about to get a handle on her nausea, I can feel that, too. When she does, and she gains back a few pounds? Watch out.