Therapy can come in many forms. A friend. The family dog. Partaking in a certain chore or activity. In my case, the latter.
Monday was not a red-letter, banner day for me. It was one of "those" days. You know the kind. It was a sometimes your the hammer, sometimes your the nail kind of day. I was the nail. I kind of had a Wile E. Coyote stretch: standing there in the middle of the road with a rock hurling from above at my head.
Five o'clock couldn't come fast enough.
After a quick supper I spent most of the evening out in the yard working. More especially I was in the garden weeding the zinnias, rose moss, impatiens and black-eyed Sues. And I felt pretty good about it.
No, wait. I don't like to weed the garden. Umm, yes, I apparently do. Weeding the garden was the best thing I had done all day. How about that?