Not sure why, but the realtor showing us the house took us in through the garage and not the front door. She offered no explanation and so we just followed her.
One of the first things I noticed was a long, wooden workbench along the left side of the garage. It wasn’t so much the workbench as it was the rusty saw blade and splattered blood that caught my attention.
If they hadn’t bothered t clean that up, I hated to think what we were going to find inside the house.
But none of that is what I came to write about today. Today we’re going to talk about main springs, tension and potential energy. A main spring in a relaxed state offers little in the way of adventure. Clocks don’t tick, toys don’t move and life screeches to a halt. An unwound spring might as well be a slice of bologna. It’s no longer a part of an animal, so it is no longer animated, it isn’t good for much and really isn’t good for anyone, so it just lays there.
I have been diagnosed as unwound. Low iron is what they are telling me. They say it makes me tired and could lead to other issues. So now they have me scheduled to be infused with an iron rich mixture. They will add it to my existing blood, by poking a hole into me and pouring it in. They plan on doing this twice.
If anything is going
to get me wound up, it’s the thought of sitting there with a hole in my arm,
watching some gooey formula be gravity fed into my system. Glancing up at the second hand, taking its
sweet old time, going from one click to the next, seemingly in slower than slow
motion. The distance between clicks
becoming longer and more grueling.
Pausing to see if one of it’s shoes is untied.
1 comment:
Glad that there is a simple fix for your problem. As you know; My Motto is "STAY FIXABLE!" And you have done a great job of that so far. Seems to me that we seniors need to be equipped with a lot of patience. I wonder if that can be dripped into our arms!
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