Boy, do I have a huge surprise—it snowed yesterday. Another glorious 3 inches, just as they predicted, and waiting for me to add them to the five-foot-high piles along my sidewalks and driveway. I’ve aggravated my sciatica while shoveling. It pinches and pulls and makes me go “Argh,” when I attempt complicated moves, like trying to get out of bed in the morning or straightening after tying my shoes. My house doctor had a simple solution, “Don’t do that,” he said. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. Why didn’t I think of that?
It might not be such a bad idea because if I’m unable to tie my shoes, I can’t venture outdoors into sub-freezing temperatures with bare feet to shovel. And if I can’t even crawl from my warm comfy bed, who needs troublesome footwear? One thing I can do while I sit with my heating pad under the covers is type. I watch the fat, fluffy, beautiful flakes outside my window float and spin on their journey to the ground. It is relaxing, almost hypnotic, and I feel sleepy. Maybe I’ll compose a little story? There’s a plan worth throwing my aching back into.
No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 486 words.
Did you write yesterday?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer