I started really complaining about my back eight years ago, when I rendered myself non-functional by carrying a basket of wet laundry out to my car. Many things have happened since then, and many bad PT people since the first good one, along with one really bad doctor, but maybe the worst part is finding out that what’s wrong is real, man, and my resulting shift in attitude to poor pitiful me.

Well, fuck that. I’m going back to exercising and weight lifting, and bless the twice a day prescription strength Aleve. I want to be ready next year. The Minnesota State Fair has been without me for too long.

And there’s all this stuff in my house, accumulated during all the years when I tried to not be who I am. A garbage bag a week, and a garage sale is in my future. And that garbage bag this week freed up the laundry basket for taking things outside to hang on the line for the first time this summer what is wrong with me!!????

And being who I am also means buying decent silverware. Good grief. Aesthetics, people, aesthetics.

And because I am nice, I will spare you today’s drawing of sunflowers – no, really, it turned out fine honest! (snort) – but I will tell you how much I love standing out there in the morning sun with the hum of the bees moving from tiny bloom to tiny bloom, and from plant to plant. There is a bare patch on each of the seed heads, where birds have been taking the seeds. I suppose part of me knew that three minutes of careless planting would make me happy, but this much? No.