Warthog of Simmer
Jul. 27th, 2018 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoMy asthma has been bothering me lately. I had to use my inhaler a couple of times in the last two days, and I don't usually need it. We went for walks on Tuesday and Wednesday with Deb and Tater, so I had incentive to keep doing it, and I did, but I wonder if that plus weeding the driveway may have set off the asthma thing. Feeling short of breath makes me SO IRRITABLE. I woke up this morning at 6 and couldn't go back to sleep, because not breathing= not sleeping either. So I got less than six hours of sleep, which also makes me irritable. I can breathe all right now. Maybe the weather changed or something.
I used to stride along swiftly and easily. Now I'm stiff and slow, and I don't like that. It makes me sad. As I've probably said before, it makes me understand how people just quit doing things. It's easier to imagine that you'll do it someday--someday when you feel better. And then you just don't. But that's how the world gets smaller, and I've seen it happen to older people, so I push on because I don't want that. It's a constant battle in so many ways, though. However, I was rewarded for the effort by seeing the heron flying overhead. When I got to the pond, he wasn't there. He must have flown farther on. I did catch sight of a lot of frogs. Usually they jump away before I can get a good look at them, but today they were slow. A few goldfinches are gathering to feast on silphium and thistles. There will be more as the flowers fade and the seeds form.
I found out that an old poem I wrote has been invalidated by facts. There was an old myth that if you went down a deep enough well, you could look up and see the stars. Actually, you can't. It was a nice metaphor, but it doesn't work. It never seemed very plausible.
I used to stride along swiftly and easily. Now I'm stiff and slow, and I don't like that. It makes me sad. As I've probably said before, it makes me understand how people just quit doing things. It's easier to imagine that you'll do it someday--someday when you feel better. And then you just don't. But that's how the world gets smaller, and I've seen it happen to older people, so I push on because I don't want that. It's a constant battle in so many ways, though. However, I was rewarded for the effort by seeing the heron flying overhead. When I got to the pond, he wasn't there. He must have flown farther on. I did catch sight of a lot of frogs. Usually they jump away before I can get a good look at them, but today they were slow. A few goldfinches are gathering to feast on silphium and thistles. There will be more as the flowers fade and the seeds form.
I found out that an old poem I wrote has been invalidated by facts. There was an old myth that if you went down a deep enough well, you could look up and see the stars. Actually, you can't. It was a nice metaphor, but it doesn't work. It never seemed very plausible.
