Ow ow wow

This is Rachel Maddow really enjoying the ruling regarding the referral for sanctions and disbarment for the 9 Trump lawyers who tried to get the Michigan presidential vote overturned and Trump restored to power. This was among the most pleasant news items I have encountered recently and it’s worth watching, for the sheer glorious untrammelled schadenfreude it will unleash in you.

later that day, around 6 pm, I add this link – Capitol Police Sue Trump

F*** around and find out!!!! I am enjoying this part.

non stop cough

I am producing a teaspoon of respiratory tract mucus about every 3 – 5 minutes. My ribs still hurt, but I can cough without injuring myself further so that’s okay. My nose is running like a tap but I feel much better today than yesterday, that’s for sure, and I got some more sleep between 4 am and 8:30 am so I’m better rested. I have the right kind of cough medicine and I’m pushing fluids as fast as I can. Despite it all I don’t feel too bad. If this is a cold I AM SO SORRY I TOOK IT INTO YOUR HOUSE MOMMA.

Is it a cold? COVID? Allergies?

I am so congested! I started coughing last night and I am really glad that whatever this is I didn’t get it until a couple of days after I hurt myself.

Hand continues to improve. If I’m lying down and take a deep breath it no longer pains me but rolling over, standing up, sitting down, and bending over still hurt rather more than I think is fair.

Going walkies (locally) with Paul today after lunch.

practicing

I tried to practice but my left hand needs at minimum another couple of days before I can move it that precisely with any grip strength, but it’s obvious I’ll get it all back so I’m pleased.

Sternum/ribs still hurt like a mofo. I had a coughing fit after I got home and thought I’d pop a lung or otherwise do something stupid. Fortunately all the cough medicine I bought for COVID is still inside the expiry date, so I helped myself to the ‘dry cough’ version and immediately began to feel less like coughing, always a plus.

 

going home today

We went to the Butterfly House and the Country Bee House yesterday. At the Butterfly House Little E the parrot was three deep in Taiwanese uni students, as far as I could tell, so I didn’t get to love on him at all, but I had the great joy of telling a little girl that a tortoise had ‘broken out’ of the tortoise pen, and otherwise it was much as it usually is, and Alex enjoyed it. Alex enjoyed me imitating the goats and sheep at the Country Bee and we talked a bit about the animals and what they were eating.

Slept until about two, woke up not able to breathe, got up and brushed my teeth and drank some water and forced myself to lie down. Fought with sleep for about an hour I guess and then finally found a comfy enough position to go back to sleep.
My hand is much better today, but the ribs are sore and tight and I can neither bend nor twist, and there’s a hot patch, so I’m thinking I need to get a chest xray at the very least, which I’ll arrange when I get back.

yeesh

woke up at 4 am gasping for breath … I feel like I can’t get fully oxygenated. My nose is blocked and I feel dehydrated and gooey in the breathing apparatus, so I’m going upstairs to make myself some tea.

I am seven chapters in to Halliburton’s Royal Road to Romance (1925) and while many queerer books have been written I’m sure this is the gayest one I’ve read yet. His descriptions are so delightfully over the top, florid and memorable, but also one gets the indelible impression that half the shit he’s reporting never happened. Anyway, he ran away from uni in his early 20s, and fetishized his own youth for as long as he could, eventually drowning on a ghastly sea voyage in a thoroughly unseaworthy vessel at some point in his 30s. Content warning, typical American ethnocentric racism.

recovering

I am feeling much better than I did yesterday. Most of the sprung ribs have gone back into their little detents but I still have abused tendons and one very bruised left hand to deal with. It no longer hurts to cough or laugh, but rolling over in bed, bending over to pick anything up, and getting up from and sitting down in a chair hurt like billy-o. I don’t feel much like typing, that’s for sure, it hurts.

We’re having a super quiet time, just talking in the sunroom. Alex is being quite civilized. He’s an amusing lad.

kinda beat up

my left wrist and ribs under my left breast still hurt quite a bit but I’ve established that I can at least nap… rolling over takes about 30 seconds and is accompanied by sounds of me hissing like a snake

I was thinking of making one last stab at climbing Pkols tomorrow or the day after but I know I won’t be able to and I’m just disappointed in myself turning my ankle on the paved part of the pathway…. My foot slipped into the divot right next to the paved part and then I flung myself around so I wouldn’t go down the embankment and crushed my left hand under me. Paul was with me. I had the wind knocked out of me for about a minute and then slowly stood up with Paul’s help – a kindly stranger with a dog rushed to check on me which felt very comforting under the circumstances. And no, I shouldn’t have driven afterwards now that I think of it, but I just couldn’t deal with getting out of the car to mail Tom’s letter so I stuck him in the passenger seat. I think my reasoning is kinda weird sometimes.

the dance of the maggots

to be devoured in a place
where your mind has no purchase
inverse of a location

you find yourself here
anyway

the place goes away and the feeling
of it, a question mark in pyrotechnic smoke
most literal
continues

there is a trope in screen delivered content
a figurecomestoyouinadreamandtellsyou
content
(by which I mean
whatever the plot device is)
is a lie

the movement of maggots is not proof of life
unless you’re speaking of the maggots
and only a corrupt culture
will sell that viewpoint to you

the ground shakes with
their nagging vicious drumbeats
so it looks as if the maggots dance in time

twisted my ankle and fell

at Foreshore Park; it was just before the car park and I now have what is probably a cracked rib and a sprained hand, as well as the usual assortment of roadrash. I am going to leave off going to the hospital just for the time being – unless I’m worse off than my current assessment, and plan to load up on painkillers. I was okay to drive. Finally mailed Tom’s letter. He has pneumonia.