kvetching up

Entry 1 6:00 a.m. Crash cart at my gym My knee recovered by yesterday afternoon . Go figure. After two rounds of ibuprofen in the morning, I laid off. By mid-afternoon I had full range of motion, albeit with still some swelling and discomfort, but the pain is gone, and the remaining swelling is what I normally have with this knee. The only thing that I can think is that my knee, as I have experienced in the past, was impacted by the change in barometric pressure. No matter. I skipped exercise yesterday, and will determine which machine I will get on today, as I move through the hours. I met with the dietician on Monday. She was 12--okay, maybe 15. Her instructions were not what I was expecting from my interactions with Heidi the nurse. I was under the belief that she would recommend either a vegan or vegetarian diet. Neither was true. She told me to stay away from Atkins and Paleo, as research has shown it consistently leads to early death for people with Type II diabetes. I get it. In...

I am not a religious person. Not even slightly.  I am not an atheist.  I am not smart enough to stake out a position, or to say how or why we exist.  But when I am feeling low, give me Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Hank Williams, Roy Acuff or F.C. Barnes singing about their faith, and it buoys me. People persevere, they push on through hard times.  That's what this particularly working-class flavor of gospel music says to me.  I don't have their gift of faith, but I know that this too shall pass.   I haven't written in so long because work, the dogs, Jenny's illness, Jenny's anger, moving, unpacking and preparing for next week's backpacking trip have sapped me. I have been holed up in my room for about an hour as I write this, listening to Fern Jones sing. She was a holy roller, tent revivalist musician whose music was almost lost, but rereleased a few years ago.  She has been compared to Patsy Cline, high praise, really. I digress.  ....