A good friend of mine is building a little house.
It used to be her gift shop, but she is turning it into a place to live.
It overlooks 10 acres of wildflowers, that she has spent years planting.
The cottage will be small, but the 12 foot ceilings will make it seem larger.
The views are lovely from every direction.
She is very excited to have her own place.
I'm excited for her.
Today I decided to take this headache in line. If the prednisone didn't help, and it didn't, then the source of my misery is NOT my sinuses, or allergies. Per the ENT.
I made an appointment to get my eyes checked, tomorrow. It seems a simple thing, but you never know, and I would rather cross that off my list of possible headache causes.
And this morning, early, I called my chiropractor. He took me in. After I told him my story, he said he had a diagnosis for me: dumb-ass-itis.
"WHY didn't you come in right after you snapped your neck and got a concussion????" He's young enough to be my son, but I totally trust him.
So he gently manipulated my neck, and put the magic electrodes on my back. I left feeling better, my headache just a rumble.
I think Karen of This Old House might be on to something. I came home and found some Flexeril, and took one. Slapped the heating pad on my neck, did my neck exercises, and tonight my headache is STILL THERE, but bearable.
I am still going to have the MRI, as soon as it is APPROVED. Red tape, ya' know.
When I left my friend's, I drove by my old workplace.
It's right on the way.
I didn't notice the "ENTER" sign, until I saw the picture.
Appropos, though, for a maximum security prison.................'enter'.........'c'mon in'..........there's room at the inn.
The hospital area was dead center of this complex, so you had to walk half way through the jail to get there.
And there's this lovely WALL around the whole perimeter.
Razor wire, towers, gas and guns, all the extras to make a house a home.
There's razor wire everywhere, you just have to look. I hope mine goes away, soon.