Some, but it didn’t interfere with the birdsong. I’m used to birdsong and the noise of traffic.
Back from Boulder - just caught up reading. Hi, everyone.
They had snow (whiteout) for a day, took us high into the mountains for another day, and we saw a great pedestrian mall in central Boulder - and I am a little tired.
Hope you get some good sleep.
The Pearl Street Mall is great fun: a good book shop, places to eat, clothing shops, shoes, fetching tchotchkes in wild variety. In summer there are buskers and jugglers and odd sorts boinking about.
If you go back, a favourite spot of mine is Mateo, at 19th and Pearl, with Provençal dishes and a great wine list.
The servers seem to enjoy talking about the food and wine.
If I could walk.
The trip was good - to see the kids, their new house, and cat.
The rest of the time I was trying not to ruin everyone else’s trip. Profound exhaustion and pain - and now the recovery period - is hard to convey, but I ran on fumes from days before, through the whole trip. It will be weeks before I can rely on myself much, and we are not unpacked (helper will be coming for a long time).
I don’t want people to see how bad it is; I don’t know how successful I am at it, but I try - to keep some semblance of a human life.
Sounds hellish. Poor duck!
Could you do your duty the first day or two, then retire to a darkened room?
Or a spa where they pack you in warm mud and feed you champagne through a straw?
Snuck off for a nap a couple of times, and slept in the parking lot while they were on a brief hike, etc., but on such a brief trip it’s difficult to get rest, and there were many demands on the energy. Stairs - for one. They have a nice guest bedroom - in the basement.
I will survive - or I wouldn’t attempt these things - but the writing suffers, and I moved here to make it easier. Hard to spend wisely when family and friends make an effort, but have no idea how little you have to contribute.
Next trip, Mexico - to see sisters I haven’t seen since 2014 except by Facetime. And I don’t know when that trip can be.
I think of the Bronte sisters.
It totally sux that you have to endure so much just to do normal things. Does anything help the pain? There’s so much differing advice online, but ultimately we are all wired differently, so what works a little for one might do nothing for another; and even then, even if the pain lessened, it seems to be more about having enough energy. Is there anything other than rest that helps boost that?
Keeping expectations low. Resting when you’d rather do something - because something else is coming up.
A nurse with CFS taught me that the liquid B-12 helps; I get another hour of being awake when I take it - not good quality awake, but sometimes I merely have to be there.
Not much works for writing: I have to do everything near perfectly to be able to get a few hours of creating mainstream fiction. It’s worth it, but I’ve had to miss so many days since last April because something else drove to the top of the list and had to be done first, that day.
But it all gets plowed back into Pride’s Children, whose heroine has ME/CFS, and it makes her real - in a world I inhabited 20 years ago. It’s good to have a place where only inside information will serve.
The pain I deal with as best as possible, and then ignore the rest. I’m not about to cede any more life to the disease than I’m forced to.
A helping of fresh greens for you–
The greenhouse is nice on a cold, windy day, like a door into summer.
I have to admit, I love the smell of a greenhouse in winter. There is something about the smell of warm soil that is just so appealing.
I love running my hands through the soil.
I’m a dirty sort of girl.
You obviously have a green thumb. Green is clean. I miss that - growing things - except that my baby coffee plant is still alive. It was a gift from another couple here, and the husband will learn how to roast the beans, and he and the other guy will share a very small pot of coffee.
I kill everything, which is why I’m so surprised my poinsettia is still alive! Some of the leaves are still red too.
About that green thumb— after I work on the tomatoes (trellising, pruning, harvesting) my thumbs are literally green. Sort of greenish-black, actually.
I’ve tried growing things like dwarf lemons and limes, but they don’t produce very well. I think the temperature range in the greenhouse is too great.
I love drinking coffee, but never thought much about how to grow and prepare it.
I think it gets soaked to remove the husks, then dried and aged, then roasted, and ground.
Been a mite chill, this side.
This dial thing usually reads a few degrees high, likely from heat diffusing through the window. So I reckon it was -30°F/-34.5°C.
If I say am over the age of 35, does that mean I am automatically admitted here?
I might not be, so do I get carded?
Anyway, I lived for a short while near Lake Superior on the American side. I wish I can tell you by the numbers how cold it got, but I can’t remember (maybe due to my advancing age). Yet, I do remember a day that was very cold, and it was in August
I went to the International Music Camp, a summer youth camp held annually at the International Peace Garden on the North Dakota-Manitoba border. It was the end of July. We drove there and stopped at one point to take pictures of deer in a field (pictures lost through time). I stood shivering looking at snow wrapping around a culvert still melting from last winter.
You got me beat. My time there was pretty idyllic. Now I am not sure how I would feel about the cold. I bet I would just get used to it again
I didn’t work out well for me. We were a concert band and I always played indoors. All their concerts were at an outdoor venue back then. The keys on my clarinet (the grease actually), started reacting slowly and sticking in the cold.
Nah. You’re good. You knew the password.