The cast is off my poor, sore right arm.
The elbow joint is very stiff, and my mobility is quite limited. Maybe I should have taken this for a sign BEFORE I tried to clean up the Christmas rubble in my house, do the shopping, or drive a car.
I'm teaching myself to write again, with the vain hope of being able to complete a major art project for the university in two weeks... I'm typing-- and doing fairly well-- in order to get caught up on many, many emails. I can't take a steady photograph to save my LIFE, with these shaky hands of mine, and so all the Christmas photos will be quirkily blurred this year.
Most of all, I can't wait to KNIT.
For dear Father Christmas brought me exactly what I wanted, in the form of a delicious, new Noro yarn, and a beautiful book of patterns.
Is this the stuff of dreams, or what???!
They are CALLING ME, people, after too, too many months of neglect.
I can't wait.
Now. All I need is a physiotherapist who will work during the holidays...