the Lord gives, the Lord takes away

God knows exactly
how much you can
handle.  It's just that
this grand sweep of
human history and
His plan for it are
not all about you, so
sometimes you get
more than you can
take, but He takes
that all into account
in the end.

Time to go to bed - searching for a place

All the old houses I looked at today had floors
that sloped in places and threw people off
balance.  It was a familiar sensation to me, that

half-falling, the disorientation, the catching.  I
wonder if that familiarity would make it safer
for me to live in a house with crooked floors because I

am used to the dizziness and know the tricks not to fall
over.  Maybe I would get used to the crooked
houses faster.  At least  I would have something

to blame when I half-fell and caught myself for
no reason anyone else could see.  Unless the crooked
houses multiplied the half-falls into whole falls.  Then

again, I'll never know unless I live in one, and it seems
I can't currently afford anything in really livable
condition now.  The work injury and the debt it

generated have crippled me more financially
than physically, more than 110+ years have sloped
these floors, more than I care to dwell on while I am

searching for a place to live that isn't here.

I trust the Chiropractor

Why does it hurt more

to be straightened than crooked

like the winter trees?

Against all odds

After a day

of blizzard winds 

and bright sunshine

beauty still clings

to the trees

stubborn and

undaunted.

Tomorrow, remind me about the beauty

Tomorrow
remind me
about the beauty of today
if I seem to forget it
remind me if I am limping and wincing and taking my limit of ibuprofen and if I seem puzzled by this
remind me that I didn't leave work early even though I should have and had permission to do so and that was stupid because I might have been able to tell if I was even on the road had I left earlier and the snow would not have been so deep in the parking lot
remind me that at least it wasn't really cold and it wasn't raining or sleeting or blowing yet
remind me that the snow in the trees was that wet snow that weighs down the branches and sometimes glistens when the trees are warm and melt the snow just enough to make it liquid
remind me that my car got stuck in the parking lot 12 inches away from my garage, and I had to shovel my car clear and it took 4 attempts at clearing before I cleared my car enough to get the car moving again
remind me that I preemptively shoveled the area in front of my garage clear for 10 feet to maybe help tomorrow not be so bad when there are six more inches and several layers of ice and I have to get up and leave early in the morning for PT
remind me that I was planning to exercise as soon as I got home anyway, and it's good to vary your exercise routine so that it doesn't get boring
remind me that the snow was so very beautiful as it coated the trees like extra gravity, bending, burdening, turning them down, bowing into graceful lines that belie the strain that is so obviously there if you look, threatening each joint with more potential brokenness
remind me that I twisted my knee and wrenched my hip but that it wasn't the bad one and that I pushed my arms too hard and my obliques were sort of screeching at me by the end but that I only (over)did it because there was no one else to do it for me because I couldn't just leave my car there all night or it would get towed because tow-trucks are about the only things not getting mired in this foot-deep icy slush and it would be way harder to pick up the car at the tow lot because even buses were going off the road and if it took that much effort to make it to work on top of the pain, I'm not sure I'm willing to go even though there are three meetings I have to attend
remind me that I stood and watched the snow in the parking lot lights and the flakes were so thick I could see both them and their shadows falling for minutes
remind me that I fell but it wasn't fast and hard and sharp and that I took too long to figure out how to get back up because thank God there was so much snow that was so wet and slushy that it cushioned the fall
remind me that I iced things down immediately in a manner of speaking by falling into all that ice and slush and then took some ibuprofen to keep the inflammation down and then took a hot bath to preemptively ease the stiffness already creeping up and that I chose not to exercise on my little stair climber and showed restraint (after the fact still counts a little) and rested as I could and put the ibuprofen and some water by my bed, so when I wake up, if things are bad, I don't even have to get up
remind me that the snow and the branches were so beautiful that the pain didn't matter enough to pull me away
remind me

that I got home safe where it was warm (too warm because everyone is panicking and turning their heat up, but maybe that's better for the stiffness)

remind me that I had to stay up late to do the music tonight because all the warning signs indicate I will not be able to even use my fingers to plink out my usual pitifully poor attempt at a tune tomorrow, and I have a second audition in three days and I've never seen the music

remind me

that I had to stay up even later to write because tomorrow will not look the same and I might be in too much pain to write about the beauty and I choose to write about the beauty now 
remind me that I stood watching the trees gleam, white frosted and heavy-laden like elder statesmen, until my hair dripped with melting snow and I could feel it trickling down my neck
remind me that I could not help the other people foundering in the parking lot later that night as I sat in my apartment with the blinds open so I could watch the snow fall
do not remind me that I am 34 and that there are plenty of people my age AND YOUNGER who have it way worse physically because it will not really help me as I am likely pathetically allowing myself to wallow in self-pity and I promise it will be a brief wallow
remind me that the snow was  so very beautiful  if I forget keep  reminding  me because I want the beauty to matter more than the pain I am in remind me

because tomorrow, 

when the blizzard winds have passed through 

and scoured clean away the lovely snow tracing the lines 

of the trees and branches and twigs

and what I have left

is the pain

remind me 

that the pain is not all I have. 

41 cent Yoda stamps

Postage is going up soon, and today is a vacation day. I did the cleaning Saturday and the resting Sunday, so today, I think, is a good day to write letters, so I can someday be through the remaining 41 cent Yoda stamps and on to 42 (and eventually the 44 and 46 and the forever stamps for which I don't have to pay supplemental postage). I wonder if it's a good plan not to start until after the impossible snow stops falling.  You never quite know with impossible snow how long it is going to last.

other impossibilities

the weather guessers say:

0% chance of precipitation

today as I sit and watch

the impossible snow falling

praying for other impossibilities

to the three

To the three kind folks
who saved me when
I was wracked
upon a tricksy
ninja curb
disguised
as snow:

many,
many
thanks.

warm enough again

Finally it is warm enough
to snow again.
Alas.

today the winter dancers

the trees are extra dramatic

leaning lunging lounging

all horizontal surfaces

coated in white

"Mitochondrial Fatigue"

This diagnosis makes me
want to read not Google
or WebMD but A Wind
in the Door by L'Engle
because the mitochondrial
problems there were solved
by singing if I remember
true and I want this all to
be healed by singing too.

before the snow

leaf shadows
and raccoon
paw prints
criss-cross
the sidewalk
until I can't
tell one from
the other

What I'm Made of This Week

This week I am made of
clumsy and tired and
hurting; please just
let me lie.

Today's Goal

Today's Goal:

Get the tuna

in the fridge.

one of those weeks (2)

the kind of week
when chances are high
that I will accidentally
walk into a men's restroom
again

one of those weeks

one of those weeks
when you can get
the tuna to the
kitchen but can't
quite
concentrate long enough
to get it into the fridge

Yoda was wrong

Yoda was wrong.
Sometimes all there is
is try and try and try
and fail and get up
and try again.  If
I wanted to debate
with the old Jedi master,
I would say, "I will do
the best I can with
the time and tools at
hand" and hope that
satisfied the spirit
of the lesson he was
trying to teach.

beautiful lie

today the skies

give warmth the
lie with bright
sunshine and high
cloudless blues
while the windchill
below blows low
negative numbers

trees without leaves

the ones that have lost the most
are the beautiful ones still coated
with snow even after the sun
has been up for hours

a good day for rain

In the morning it was that rain nearly indistinguishable from fog: big, slow droplets floating lazily and vaguely down.  I love that kind of rain because it coats and collects on the trees and the twigs and the leaves and falls at random with big plops well-spaced raindrops falling in slow motion surprising and relaxing.

In the evening, it was a lovely fog, making everything mysterious.