Some wee little rodent-like animal chose to dig itself a new back door immediately adjacent to our campsite this past weekend. We enjoyed watching it pop in and out of the ground, throwing piles of earth and dragging the occasional bit of plant matter back into its lair. I wish I could have gotten a good picture of the varmint, but alas, it was far too speedy to do so.
Good luck wintering in the wilds, wee critter. Thank you for your amusing and entertaining appearance.
Beloved Husband, Cherished Friend, and I spent the past weekend camping in the wilds of New Mexico. It was decidedly... primitive camping. with not even an available latrine. The temperature dropped significantly at night, to the point that I actually took a warmed rock from the campfire ring into my tent to keep my feet warm. (It was decidedly helpful to do so.) The campsite was wonderfully remote -- hardly another person to be seen or heard -- and the night sky was just lovely.
Part of me feels I might deserve a small round of applause for managing to maintain a pristine surgical scar, as well as to follow the low-FODMAP (anti-IBS) diet suggested by the GI doctor and to take care of all associated bodily functions in the woods, for the weekend. Yet another part of me needs no applause, but rather is quite satisfied that we did not treat me as a fragile incapable flower, but instead went about our business and pursued simple adventures in spite of my temporarily-increased physical neediness.
I did not go for a hike -- though I would have enjoyed it -- because I did not want to push myself too hard at that time. Instead, I took a close look at all the lichens and trees in our camp, and surveyed the number of small animal burrows in the vicinity. Simple pleasures.
I also enjoyed watching the two Menfolk make their way up the side of a big hill as they hiked. Snatches of their conversation drifted over the valley, indistinct, yet clear enough for me to hear the comforting tenor of their voices. It warms my heart to see the two of them together, taking some time to relax and enjoy the out-of-doors. Good for them.
"You have a very small nose," the doctor said, as he put in the sutures. Apparently a larger nose is better for such things, but he managed to work well with the small nose just the same.
As expected, MOHS surgery was necessary for a second time. It was not terrible, all things considered, though the sensation of having skin manipulated this way and that was distinctly unpleasant. It is a two centimeter line, and in time, it will likely fade just as the first one did.
My face hurts. There was only one day of significant pain last time, though, so I am hoping that by this time tomorrow, things will improve.
(I was warned that my eyes might swell shut two to three days later. Oh, dear. Let us hope that does not happen.)
I am the designated Remover of Insects at work. Just the other day I relocated a very pretty spider from a stack of papers in the copy room to a bush outside. 'Twas a pity I did not have an opportunity to take a picture of it first. Perhaps next time.
I have taken on a task (henceforth known as The Task) - it is a lengthy, challenging, onerous task, but for reasons that are best left unexplained, it must be done. It will take a full year before we know whether I am successful at The Task. We shall see.
Tomorrow is a small step within the much larger Task. Am I sufficiently prepared? How will this piece of The Task go? I will be glad when this piece is (momentarily) over, at any rate.
All will be revealed, in due course. Have patience.
NinjaHead resides with a muffin-baking woman known herein as Herself. Herself has a Beloved Husband, with whom she shares three nearly-grown Offspring. When she is not writing Things, Herself nurtures a visceral fondness for small furry creatures. The household menagerie, which has varied in size and composition over the years, presently contains a minuscule middle aged chihuahua, a most mild-mannered senior chihuahua, and a very small hamster who, due to the prominence of his gonads, seems to need trousers for decency.