A blog about a life awakened and rejuvenated around Western New York.

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Meteorological Bullshit aside, it appears we’ll be in store for a scorcher (which in these parts is anything under 99°F. As far as I’ve heard, it’s never broken the century mark – I could be wrong lending to Walliological Bullshit all its own). Eight in the morning (EST) and the coolness of night is slowly making a hasty retreat.

I work in a tin box. A pre-fab addition to a series of pre-fab additions, that has major difficulty keeping the cold out in the winter, and goes a long way emulating a 400° oven when there’s steam. With the moisture levels and the heat, it’s obvious there will be steam. And as we were taught in school, class: “It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity”!

So, did I dress accordingly? Of course not. Safety dictates “long-sleeved” pants and steel toe boots. Not the sexiest attire. Liberties were taken, wearing the thinnest of T-shirts I could muster (that didn’t have mustard blotted on it – I can be a bit of a slob sometimes! 😉  ). Once the beads of sweat form, it won’t quite matter any longer, will it?

So the game plan: pace myself. And stay hydrated (lay off the coffee dunderhead, you’ll dehydrate). Should a spray or splash of water find my face, I will welcome it appreciatively.

Normally, I bristle at getting wet… but all’s fair in love and steam!

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I was going along, swimmingly. I wanted to walk my daughter down the aisle sans limp from a gimpy left leg. My first sciatic nerve flare up had put me on my back to stew over my fate, and hope that my gait was unnoticeable. But, there lingered that tell-tale thump as my foot contacted the earth. I looked good; sounded like a Clydesdale.

Thankfully, I had worked out most of the kinks before the day. Rest and meds, stretches and patience. (Lots of patience. No one likes an impatient patient!)

Mission accomplished. Which is why I can’t get too upset that my nerve and back went AWOL this morning. More rest, more pain suppressants, more stretching, more of being a patient.

Day-by-day is my self-prescribed dosage. If I feel better tomorrow, then I’m headed in the right direction. If I don’t, this bastard’s going into dry-dock until ALL the barnacles are scraped off. Whatever the outcome, there’s no way I admit that this ship has sailed.

Hand me the remote control!