The Citadel Under Siege

Still not sure what is up with the knee, but it could be just a bad sprain; the kneecap appears to have put itself back in, at least. It still is a blasted nuisance. It's not the great tragedies and catastrophes that are draining in life; when the world stops, you can stop to deal with it and feel the proper object of sympathy. It's the little things that you have to go right on living through that wear you out. On which sympathy comes in the form of "I can top that story."

This is also the week I have to get my Rhogam shot (in case of incompatibility with Baby's blood type), which involves two trips to the hospital lab, on top of my now bi-weekly checkup. So we are spending an unconscionable amount of time at medical offices.

But then, the sky and the grass and the daffodils are brilliant colors this morning; last night's spaghetti turned out particularly well; the thank-you notes are mailed at last; there is more space on the office floor; and I'm finally going to get up and give the house a long-overdue vaccuumming. It's also the little things, not the huge celebrations, that make life livable.