Saturday, May 25, 2013
I'm writing a letter to a friend. A long newsy letter in return for a long newsy letter from her full of all that she's doing with her new husband. But all I can think of to say in answer to "how are things going for you" is news of my aches and pains and this treatment or that. My health screams at me in bed because of the pain and the lack of sleep because of it. My health screams at me all day because of the care I have to take in deciding if I can really negotiate those stairs one more time or if my knees are going to buckle. I'm thoroughly sick of it and I bet my friends are too.
So I'm rewriting my letter to talk about:
The series I'm reading about an older Sherlock Holmes and his young wife, Mary Russell as imagined by Laurie R. King.
The kids and their interests.
The summer camp I'm gearing up to teach at in August.
The new Zumba instructors I will be working with.
The two weddings I'm going to this summer - for a niece and then a month later, a nephew.