ow--neatness--genealogy
Just got alcohol injection #2 for my foot--it stings a little this time, but overall soreness is improved. The doctor said it's a very good sign for the treatment's overall effectiveness that I felt so much improvement from the first shot, and I may only need 3-5 shots instead of 8-10. When he put the needle in my foot (have I mentioned this needle needs to go into the top of my foot about a half inch?), it was clear that there was much less inflammation in my foot and that possibly some of the scar tissue is softening up. I would jump around for joy right now if my foot weren't encased in ice.
M and I worked on our study for hours and hours yesterday and it's like a whole new room. M got a new work station for all his music gear and it all looks very sleek and professional now. I love my new desk; everything is in its proper place. I love that the desk has a magnetic board built into it, so now I can take all those important random scraps of paper and pin them up rather than have them floating around everywhere. Once one part of the room looked organized, the bookshelves looked so messy that I felt compelled to attack them as well. Those of you who have been in my house know that I do believe in covering every horizontal surface with knick knacks and so forth, but there were a great many items that had been shoved into the bookcases because there was nowhere else for them to go. Thanks to Staples' recycling program, I was able to get rid of all the dead tech I had floating around, and also recycled umpteen million manuals and outdated computer books. Anyway the study is bright and airy now, since there is no longer a desk in front of the windows, all my books are visible and in order, there is not a piece of tech in the room that isn't current and in use and best of all there's enough room that I could easily do yoga in the study, so I can use Yoga Journal's podcasts.
While going through some of my photos/family stuff, I found a report my brother had done in I think junior high or high school about our family history. I knew a lot of the stuff about my mom's side, but not so much about my dad's, so it was very interesting. I knew there were a lot of coal miners in my family history, but man, there were a *lot* of coal miners, on both sides. No wonder I'm so pale, we probably lost our melanin working underground. My grandfather's father started working in one of Scranton's coal mines when he was 10 and worked in that mine until he was 65. Crazy stuff. I'm happy they all survived long enough to have offspring, otherwise I wouldn't be here. At least a couple died of black lung disease. Another recent ancestress was a midwife. My father's father, who died not long after I was born, was a typesetter for a Scranton newspaper, which was probably messy and hard work but somehow seems glamourous, like his job was to make the newspapers with their screaming headlines spin around like they do in old movies. It's all pretty solidly blue collar but I'm proud to come from people who worked with their hands and worked hard. I can be stubborn and persistent and maybe that's where some of it comes from, that determination to do things myself.
M and I worked on our study for hours and hours yesterday and it's like a whole new room. M got a new work station for all his music gear and it all looks very sleek and professional now. I love my new desk; everything is in its proper place. I love that the desk has a magnetic board built into it, so now I can take all those important random scraps of paper and pin them up rather than have them floating around everywhere. Once one part of the room looked organized, the bookshelves looked so messy that I felt compelled to attack them as well. Those of you who have been in my house know that I do believe in covering every horizontal surface with knick knacks and so forth, but there were a great many items that had been shoved into the bookcases because there was nowhere else for them to go. Thanks to Staples' recycling program, I was able to get rid of all the dead tech I had floating around, and also recycled umpteen million manuals and outdated computer books. Anyway the study is bright and airy now, since there is no longer a desk in front of the windows, all my books are visible and in order, there is not a piece of tech in the room that isn't current and in use and best of all there's enough room that I could easily do yoga in the study, so I can use Yoga Journal's podcasts.
While going through some of my photos/family stuff, I found a report my brother had done in I think junior high or high school about our family history. I knew a lot of the stuff about my mom's side, but not so much about my dad's, so it was very interesting. I knew there were a lot of coal miners in my family history, but man, there were a *lot* of coal miners, on both sides. No wonder I'm so pale, we probably lost our melanin working underground. My grandfather's father started working in one of Scranton's coal mines when he was 10 and worked in that mine until he was 65. Crazy stuff. I'm happy they all survived long enough to have offspring, otherwise I wouldn't be here. At least a couple died of black lung disease. Another recent ancestress was a midwife. My father's father, who died not long after I was born, was a typesetter for a Scranton newspaper, which was probably messy and hard work but somehow seems glamourous, like his job was to make the newspapers with their screaming headlines spin around like they do in old movies. It's all pretty solidly blue collar but I'm proud to come from people who worked with their hands and worked hard. I can be stubborn and persistent and maybe that's where some of it comes from, that determination to do things myself.