One Would Think...

 One would think that when I sanded down the 80-year-old cardboard I would have gotten sick from the cancer-causing glue that was used all those years ago.  I did not. 

One would think that after delivering mail in a deluge of 40 degree rain, when even my rain coat soaked through, I'd have gotten the sniffles.  I did not.

When the pollen soared because we went from said 40 degree day to 72 and sunny, I'd get seasonal allergies from the pollen coated mold spores, but nope.

And when both the boys took off for the weekend and it was just the Hubs and I that I'd finally be able to relax and enjoy some sunny days getting things done.  Also nope.

Instead, I got COVID.

When a general sore throat, continued into a progressive congestion and tiredness, I took an at home test. Never did I think it would come out positive. Unlike the covid of 6 months ago, the kids who both tested negative, went about their business as usual.  Oldest went to work, and Youngest who had been in NY for four days, spent all of two night at home, and found elsewhere to stay for the rest of his birthday week. 

My sore throat went to congestion, then into an unimaginable tiredness. Tiredness comparable to that of early pregnancy, where you are literally growing a new human being. Then the cough came, shortness of breath, and lost my voice entirely.  Two days of food that tasted like cardboard, dizziness, and nausea, and just when I turned the corner, the symptoms all repeated themselves.  

Oldest was nice enough to pick up my new glasses for me while I was home, and now of course I could finally see how dirty the house was.  I don't sit still well, even sick, so I would pick away at small tasks as I could.  I'd clean out a shelf in the kitchen cabinet, then have to nap for an hour. I'd throw in a load of laundry, start sweating so badly I'd have to change, and then take another nap. Seriously.  It was ridiculous. 

All and all, it took 6 days for me to feel somewhat human. The Hubs had minor sniffles and congestion but for the most part was himself, so while he plugged away at the stone wall along the driveway, I sat wrapped in a blanket, semi lifeless, in the Adirondack chair in the sun. It was a beautiful week to be home.  I was even able to open the windows to let the covid cooties out.  

One would think that after two years of waiting, finally getting my covid quarantine, I would have gotten so much done. But nope.

One would think that I would have cleaned closets, binged TV shows, renewed my love for cooking.  Nope.

One would think I'd have caught up with all my much-loved blog-ie peeps, also, sadly no.

One would think, it would not have taken me until I went back to work to tell y'all where I've been.

But here we are, post covid. 

And the best thing I have to show for it, due to forced time off, is a healed sprained knee.

One would think that I wasted so much time, indulging in sleep, breathing, losing track of the days.

Nope.

It's A Pity Party Project Post...

The other day someone left a little green baggie with chocolate on my front door. It was from a friend from down the road. Funny, aside from having kids the same age we never really connected often, but for some reason she felt compelled to leave me a little pick me up on my doorstep.  And it was the good stuff let me tell you, oversized bars of specialty chocolate, to die for.

The thing about being the one that does for others is that it's rarely done for me. When I say that, it's not that I'm not appreciated, I am. I know that.  And the regular characters in my small circle make sure I get what I need. But outside of the circle, that's a different story. Outside of the circle it's rare that someone goes out of their way, much less drives to my house, to make me smile. And the truth is, it was just what I needed.

The results of my MRI came back for me knee.  I have RA in my knees now as well as my hands. I have a sprained MCL and one other tendon.  I have cartilage damage in various areas, as well as the cartilage that connects to my kneecap is torn free. I also have a cyst behind my knee from a buildup of fluid due to the other damage. I read this all on my online chart. Not a single doctor has gotten back to me in regard to the next steps. I can't take time off from work until I get a doctor's note and FMLA paperwork done.

The day after I had my MRI, I was out delivering a package and fell on ice. Six inches of hard packed, bumpy, no traction in sight, ice. It was my first step out of the truck, I hit my tailbone on the bottom step of the mail truck and then slid further catching my back rib cage on the bottom step as well. It's not broken, but it hurts to sit, stand, and bend down. And my ass crack has a nice purple hue. 

So, between the wonky knee, and the purple butt, getting through the day is exhausting. I can't walk the dog for the leisurely walk she deserves because I can't make it more than 1/2 mile after working all day. I have to pace myself with errands which means more often than not we are out of whatever I actually need. Work is difficult because every bump and curb the mail truck hits bounces me in the seat and the pain makes me nauseous. I can only half hobble downstairs for laundry duty and forget about cleaning.

In an effort to push off my feeling of uselessness, I am doing small crafting projects around the house.

I finally built a frame for the puzzle Hubs and I finished. 

It took very little time and WAY more epoxy than I expected. But it is definitely cool to have done.

And we just finished this one.  It's a photograph of our pond, at sunrise, last July. 

We use our fridge as a wipe board.  I was frustrated by the disorganization of it, so I cleaned it up with some vinyl decals...

We've joked that our "company" needed T-Shirts for years now.  So, I made us some...

And then there's this trunk, that the hubs picked up for me at a local charity shop for ten bucks...

The first thing I did was do a deep dive on the information we found inside of the chest.  It was issued to a soldier in 1942, when he was drafted for the war. I asked around on my buy nothing FB site and I was able to access his draft record, an old census, and his obituary.  I reached out to the son, who lives semi local, but have not heard back.  It had been converted to files in the 80's and clearly has been painted and modified.  I'm in the stripping process now.  It's basically a plywood box covered with cardboard.  One would think that would come off pretty easy. NOPE. Tomorrow it will be in the 50's so I'm taking it outside to sand.  I got some cool fabric that I will line the inside with, the tray has been brought back to it's original height, and I will be using the documents from the original owner to add character to each compartment. I plan to replace the handles back to leather, I added casters, as it's the perfect height for a coffee table, and I bought a canvas of a WWII Mustang 51 Bomber blueprint (since he was in the Air force) to adorn the top. I am super excited about this one, but it's going to take a while to come together. That other chest in the photo was another project I finished two months ago. It was a Lane blanket chest from 1950 that I got for free from Buy Nothing...

It was in terrible shape.  The legs were broken, it was moldy and warped, but the inside cedar was beautiful. I went to work conditioning the inside, replacing the legs, and stripping the moldy veneer...

Youngest wanted the chess board since it was supposed to be a coffee table. He thought it would be a nice touch...

It ended up being entirely too big for the living room, so I put it out in the sunroom.  It stores the snack overflow for the kitchen and houses the cases of water and other stuff that I hate having in plain sight.  Plus it's super sturdy now so it's perfect for an extra seat when needed. I didn't mean for this beauty to be the keeper of Cheetos, but here we are. And the old owner loves what I did with it and is thrilled it didn't end up in a burn pile somewhere.  So it's a win all around I guess. 

So that's what I've been up to over here, having my pity party for one, eating Cheetos from my 70-year-old cedar chest and chocolate along side a cardboard coated trunk that would survive a nuclear war whilst wearing my clueless construction T-Shirt, because well, I have no idea what I'm doing. 

Until next time, with more exciting stuff. Maybe.