For the last couple of days (since Monday's woodshop, really), I've only been wearing my splint about half the time. I keep telling myself it's because I don't want to get it wet, and then after I wash my hands I tell myself I'm waiting for my fingers to dry, and then somehow it never happens. The finger continues to show progress and regain its usefulness, though sometimes it falters when it starts getting into heavy loads or impact shock, and I don't trust it enough yet to plant stuff in my garden with it, and I'll need to do that soon (perhaps with a trowel, though it's hardly a substitute for *feeling* the soil for quality) because my pumpkin & watermelon plants will need their space. As usual, my soft-hearted self can't bear to just kill off the weaker plants (that thing about plant a hill with six, and keep the strongest two), and I'm looking around for places to transplant plants number three and four, at least.
But anyhoo...I miss Joe, and my hockey skills are going out of tune, and I'll need them at the tournament on Sunday, so I am sorely tempted to go to my Thursday game tomorrow. It's at 10:45pm.
Hrm. Yes, no, maybe...I dunno. It's been three weeks without hockey, and I'm still feeling restless. But granted, that could just be the two cups of tea I just drank.
Maybe I'll go work off some of the caffeine by cleaning up the ants that have been after the kids' food machine. Or go run the clothes dryer a second time. Or water the plants. Exciting stuff. Oh yeah, and I suppose there's work to do, too. Ants somehow seem a bit more interesting, now. Procrastinate? Me? Naaaah.
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