Donde esta Miguel! Yes, I am one of those people who name their vehicles. My Pollyanna forecast came through - I drove up the driveway last night to find Miguel. What a sight for sore eyes. He is 20 years old (which is 250 in human years), has a manual transmission, 4W drive, and shiny black paint over tons of rust. Now you can't hear me coming unless, that is, something falls off while I'm driving. And don't ask me what I call my 2003 Ford Focus wagon. That's between the two of us girls.
On the other (sort of) good news front, my surgery has been postponed (woot!) because the damage is so great they need to come up with another, less invasive option. But it buys me more time, which I desparately need. I haven't finished cleaning the coop, I haven't dug up my spring ramps, I haven't traded hostas for comfrey with my friend, Jordan. I can now move some of the items at the bottom of the list - which used to be at the top of the list - to the top of the list again. You know what I mean, don't you? Sure thing - clear as mud ;o)
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