Waiting

Yesterday I biked out into the country to visit a friend.  I hadn’t done anything physical and was crawling out of my skin.  I didn’t mean to bike eleven hilly miles and I wasn’t ready.  No water and too much clothing were the least of my problems.  I am just not in shape.  At least I was atop an easy pedaling machine.

When I got to my friend’s house, he wasn’t home.  Painters were, though, and they let me in for a drink of water.  Fortified, I was able to make it home.

Home is tough just now.  Frida still has a sore jaw.  We’re softening up her food but not enough.  We’re headed to the vet in twenty minutes.  Another in a long list of scary rides to the vet.  This doesn’t feel like a deal breaker, but that possibility is always peeking through a half closed door into on our quiet three person life.  Fingers crossed.  It is hard to see Frida hurting.

Thanks for listening while I wait for the clock to strike ten.  That’s when it won’t be altogether too early to wrangle my two girls into the car to start the trip.

Take care.

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