The moon was beautiful and dangerous last night, lighting my garden in a ghostly shade of blue. I slept lightly, with Miss Fish curled into my body, purring.

I worked on my Mermaid Cuff yesterday, even though I should have been working through my email. Actually, it's difficult (as always) for me to prioritize. Anything for the book is really Work #1. However, email is life, digital blood, and there are 300 or more messages in there that I need to answer. If yours is one of them, please forgive me.
I've dedicated this weekend to catching up on correspondence. And I have got to come to terms with my obligations. I've got a lot of things in my queue and as we all know, an exceedinly poor grip of time.

I have new thoughts to think on my house and my life; on the concept of being strong. It may or may not be sensible to feel the way I do, but I simply have zero interest in living in a creaky or weak body. Zero. Interest. I'm trying to sort out my timeline so that it makes sense again in light of this annoying development. I have several bold ideas; all of them will likely get me in trouble. I'm spastically gathering information on my options and then running directly to Bill's arms, to melt into his strength and his furry warmth, and again feel as if I am invulnerable. This is half of why I can't stay in his arms for too long; I become soft, and incurious.
And as we all know (and my elbow can attest) becoming soft is a recipe for disaster.

And I suppose that I'm willing to accept a course correction; I just want it to be EXCITING. Like if Beck is the soundtrack.

Has anyone had "tennis elbow" surgery? How long were you down?

(Thanks for the comments, keep them coming- to be clear, I'm not having trouble managing the pain- that part is easily enough handled with available options. I just want to be able to really use my arm again. That's a different question. So I can't really just go on masking and over-using.)

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