African Violets add cheery color to this depressing house of illness.
"You have iron deficiency anemia."
So sayeth the frustrated doctor who only sees me when I'm on my self-diagnosed death bed. After I've exhausted all efforts to heal myself ~ a credo that almost always gets me into trouble.
Polka Dot Moth Orchids are winding down.
I don't know why I'm so allergic to doctors. Perhaps because their ideas for a speedy recovery rarely sync with my own.
"Relax, keep quiet, take your pills, get strong again."
Indoor seedlings stretch toward the sun.
So, I did what I was told. (A first!) I laid quietly on the couch, watching Days of Our Lives, in high hopes they'd spot the obvious clues and quickly solve the disappearance of poor baby Sydney. Think time drags when you're under the weather? It moves considerably slower in a soap opera.
That got me thinking that fresh air was precisely what the doctor forgot to order.
Off to Round Valley, where Bad Dog and I took a short jaunt along a favorite trail.
Savoring the unmistakable signs that spring is right around the corner.
"He needs to relax, keep quiet, take his pills, get strong again."
And, that's when it happened. The breakdown. The tears. The devout belief that everyone and everything is conspiring against me.
Blubbering, weepy Kate cried like a fool right in front of Dr. Dreamy.
Whatever shall we do?