Getting Old Stinks

It seems like 40 has been a magical number for me. Okay, maybe not magical . . . more like an expiration date.

Since I've turned 40 it seems like my body has started to rebel. I'll spare you all the gory details, but the last month has been pretty rough, to the point that I sought out a GI doc to determine what the deal is (or isn't). As can be expected, the doc wants to "check things out", "run some tests" and "eliminate the obvious stuff." That means I get to have a colonscopy done tomorrow. Or, as my 11-year-old refers to it, my "alien probe."

So, today is my liquid diet day and the day I drink all that stuff that's supposed to clear out your insides. Maybe I'll count this as my spring cleaning.

To keep my mind off the fact that I cannot eat anything solid, red or purple, I decided to pick up my crochet project again and see if I can give it a go. The thinking here is that the instense concentration will distract me from my current plight while still being easy enough to set aside should the need arise. After struggling with it a bit this morning, I recall now why I set it aside.

I am truly amazed my crocheters and knitters. I do not know how you guys do this with only two hands. I feel like I need at least two more hands to make this work. Maybe I'm just too awkard or something, but if feels like I'm trying to embroider with my feet. Actually, it kind of looks like I did work the project with my feet now that I think about it.

I'll pick it up again later today, but for now I'll just admire the pretty colored yarn wrapped in a ball.

With friendship,

Care'