Last week one of my many projects on the new house involved pulling weeds in the front yard, trimming back overgrown shrubs, and uprooting unwanted plants. Unfortunately, one of the unwanted plants, hiding cleverly amidst the pachysandra, was poison ivy. Which I now have on my right arm, upper right leg, and lower left leg. How it ended up in all those places when the minute I saw it I thought I was quite careful not to touch it, I don't know.
Around the same time I came into contact with the poison ivy, I also woke up one morning with a sizable bruise on my right forearm. And I have no idea how I got it! It did show up just in time for the final Harry Potter movie... my own personal dark mark, perhaps?
[That's one little dot of poison ivy in the middle of the bruise.]
And just when you think things can't get worse, last night
I might have Nathan might have sprained my wrist by rolling over onto it and bending it into my arm in the night. (I yelped like an injured puppy! Remember, I've
said before that marriage can be perilous.) It's been painful all day, and I can't lift anything with my left hand.
Other than these small details, life is great!
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