And then there's this ...

Somewhere in between my last blog entry and this very moment two things happened: I couldn't remember how to get into my blog AND I started to get better. Contradictory? Not sure. Never sure.

SO. Although heading for remission I still have my fair share of couch days. Today is one of them as I've officially been sidelined for a couple of days by my LLMD. My knees hurt and are swelling and although a symptom of Lyme as well as a herx symptom, it's new to me and I'm on med known for the ability to do tendon damage. WAS on a med known for the ability to do tendon damage. I stopped Friday evening as I'm just not willing to risk it.

The other possible culprit is yoga, which I have been healthy enough to do four times a week since February 1. I spent the month of January in California (I know, the sacrifices I make) helping to love on my son, DIL, two year old grandson and brand-new-in January granddaughter (the first female James in 65 years, I might add.) It was, in a nutshell, crazy. Just lying here in my bathrobe and thinking about it makes me teary ... those people that make my heart swell: my son, my son, my precious, precious son; my brilliant, beautiful daughter in love (I know, corny) who is that rare combination of compassion and feisty (and with whom I feel I can share ANYTHING and be heard); my two year old grandson, Jack, my favorite roommate EVER; baby Luella, or "Wu" as her brother has named her, and YaYe, my DIL's mother, a woman with whom my heart audibly clicked. Oh. Stella Luna. My puppy, Stella, went with me. That was also crazy, but not necessarily in that "isn't life SWELL" kind of way.

My point, yes ... there is a point, is that they live 50 stairs up the side of a mountain. Yes, fifty. I know because I counted them. My goal was to go up and down them once a day and when doing so I tried to be stealth as I did NOT want to be seen as that women-from-the-flat-midwest who can't make it up and down the side of a mountain. So I huffed and puffed in private, absolutely proud of myself each time I did it. After a few days I didn't huff and puff so much. In a few more I could go up and down TWICE a day. Around week three I was noticing some calf muscles vaguely (very vaguely) reminiscent of my running days. By week four I went like Rocky Balboa ... with gray hair, glasses, and a diaper bag.

In any event I felt able to begin yoga after a month of mountain goatery and toddler carrying and it is AMAZING.

I missed going on Saturday and despite the fact that I THINK I could probably go tomorrow, I will do my LLMD's bidding and go on Tuesday (I'll shoot her an email just to make sure.)

I'll need to reread my own blog to see where I left off in Ruth's - Life - Story, but for now life is good. The snow is gone, I saw a robin, and I'm itching to get out in my yard and do some spring clean up (dressed like a dork and wearing tick spray.)

Oh. I turned 60. Happy birthday to ME ... I earned this one. Yes, I bought the t-shirt.