I have never, to my knowledge, strained my back by lifting, carrying, or doing physical work. But this morning marked the second time in my life I've hurt my neck badly - by lying in bed, or more precisely, moving my head in some incorrect way. At just after 6 AM I awoke to the distinct "twang!" of muscle spasm. Thoroughly awake, I lay uneasy with a hot dagger of pain working its way in my neck. I get up, take iboprofin, steel myself for the likely recuperation over the next couple of days, and lay back down. Ralph awakens and is sympathetic; I ask him to pass our daughter over to me. She snuggles up against me in the quiet, clingy, lovely way she does. I can smell her cornsilk hair and feel her deep, peaceful breathing. Soothed, I fall asleep for another couple hours.

During the day I got as much "done" as might be imagined: namely, nothing. I watched some things I'd had on the computer and had been meaning to get to: Dial M For Murder (I giddily enjoy this film so very much) the final two episodes of "John From Cincinnati" (loved it!) and From Here to Eternity (a decent film and yay Burt Lancaster in tiny bathing shorts!). I finish knitting Sophie's hat and start on a scarf for Ralph. Ralph, meanwhile, does the dishes, the laundry, takes the kids to parks and on hikes. They flit in and out of the house while I cringe on our couch.

This evening my mother brings us a delicious dinner (pork chops, garden potatoes, avocado, celery, garden carrots, blue cheese dip, and sauteed mushrooms), strawberry ice creams cones, wine - and codeine. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It isn't often I need assistance with food but tonight it's welcome.

Currently reading: Bigfoot: I Not Dead (or rather, Sophie's reading it), plotting for more knitting, and eagerly awaiting getting to know my "new" Singer sewing machine (a Freecycle score) as soon as I am healed.

Labels: food, gratitude, Grazdma, Sophie, sorrows, the bod