Thursday, March 10, 2011

Spring Foreward

The clocks go forward on Sunday and I can't wait.. or can I? The weather is so beautiful that these mountain ranges simply radiate. I so want to get going and get the single wide ready to live in, get the barn roof on. Yet I am aware that one more hour of productiveness may turn into one more hour of worrying myself sick, trying to do alone what needs skilled people.

Yesterday my youngest grand-son spent the day with me while I ran errands, and spent an hour or so cleaning the inside of the Ford350. The Gray Ghost.

You would think that cleaning the inside of a truck wouldn't be a particularly difficult physical activity. It certainly wasn't difficult for me not very long ago. After 20 minutes I couldn't move without being in excruciating pain in my spine, hips, fingers and arms and a migraine started in earnest that remained with me when I woke up this morning.

I have always been a morning person. I love being up and around before sunrise, watching a new day dawn while I work. I love the solitude, quietness the horse industry affords when mornings mean greeting the day with Gods creations.

These days I can't wait for nightfall so I can crawl into bed and try to forget the physical pain and the desperation of homelessness. I detest mornings, detest the days and drag on so slowly without any change - but to get worse. I just need it to end.

Friends across the US and in GB are wondering why I am being so quiet, why I ignore their requests for updates.. but I get so tired of responding, "nothing has changed."

Are you ok?
I wondered if you were feeling any better? Did you manage to get some help to bury your poor dog? I am worried I haven't heard from you & we will lose each other again.
Love Jackie x

How's it going... I haven't heard from you in soooo long....
What's up??? Good or bad!!!

I pray that in 2011 something will change, but I don't dare have any expectations. All I can do is keep trying.

There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy.~Mark Twain