Nothing to drink, nothing to listen to. I must have died. No, wait, I only feel like I'm in purgatory because I have a BROKEN LEG! The first night in the boot was not pleasant. The leg didn't hurt, but the middle toes kept waking me up with their absence and I would have to dangle my foot off the bed for awhile to get the blood flowing again--at least that was my groggy painkiller-filled, half-awake analysis of the situation.
I am already in the studio this morning--more to get out of the house (cleaning people) and to turn on the air conditioning for the day than to do any substantive work. All the orders I can push back, I have. I do have two hard deadlines that I will meet (the custom tabletop pieces created to go with the Green and Green exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and the award pieces for a health organization's yearly recognition program). I am firing the initial pieces today with help from Becky. I can perch on a stool and cut and layout the pieces then she'll carry them to the kiln. That's the theory anyway,
A few days ago I promised pictures of the shaved spaniel. While I was in Portland, Dave took both dogs to the groomer's (a place they had not seen in MONTHS). Baxter the spaniel was so matted that all they could do was shave him. Seraph fared somewhat better, but she would rather I didn't post her picture here. So without further ado I give you Baxter The Wunder Spaniel! Then I'm off to putter some more in my woozy. I have never had painkillers for breakfast before. they're... odd.
A last testy note: I am fully aware that the most important thing I have to do over the next ten days is avoid surgery. If I don't stay off my leg, I run the serious risk of having to have a plate and screws put into my ankle--ruining my carefree passage through airport security checkpoints forever and being a major pain in the a--nkle. I will be good!