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A Few More Hours

It’s 11:13 p.m. I ought to go to bed, but I don’t feel sleepy. I ought to. We did a lot of heavy moving this afternoon, the Husband and I. We rearranged the garage to let Sally Forth rest indoors. No go. All we needed was a foot. Alas there were no more inches to give, so back onto the driveway she went.

The Husband set the alarm for 5:15 a.m. I need time to wash myself in some kind of special soap, dress, gather my thoughts and big girl panties, and skedaddle to the hospital. There I’ll be stripped, put in one of those indecent gowns, and prepped for knee surgery. Can you hear the saws grinding? Just kidding.

I’m ready for it. Only took six years of distractions to get me to tomorrow. 

It’s 11:23 p.m. I’ll finish my cup of water, turn on the modem, take one last look at Facebook, and off to bed I go. 

Here we go, Knee-haw!


  1. You will do well and I send allmy best to you

    1. Hello Birgit, your best was well felt, thsnk you so much!

  2. Good luck. Probably by the time I write this you're already done. I hope it went well.

  3. Hope that everything went well, Susan.

    1. Mia, my toes are wiggling. I didn’t expect that. I had hoped. So, like Teddy Roosevelt said, at whatever hill that was, “Charge!”


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Thanks for the good cheer. :-)

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