I Smell a Book Deal…and other brain children

Rotten potatoes. It was a concealed bag of rotting potatoes stinking up the kitchen, not the fish stick stomp I had imagined. Nor the dead animal in the chimney I had further surmised, a few days after the fish stick post. I dealt with the putrid, drippy potato sack last night, and now our kitchen smells fresh and clean. Well, except for whatever it is in the ’frig that needs throwing away. I’ll figure that out next.

After these other tidbit-updates:

My psoas muscle strain? Still strained. Yesterday, my chiropractor (whose other name should be Superwoman, imho) thought to examine my opposite knee as part of our ongoing investigation into the problem and its solution. She found a trigger point on my inner right knee that—to quote my dad, who has also experienced trigger pain—“made me want to jump off the table.” It’s still very tender, 24 hours after she worked on it. It feels like a fresh bruise.

Lastly, I’ll be away from blogging for the next few days. In addition to my regularly scheduled life, I’ll be assisting a friend with a special, time-sensitive project. I’m happy to help, of course, and frankly glad for the excuse to step away from my day-to-day sense that “I should blog about this or that.” Ever since camp and hearing Leena talk about her writing life—including her book-in-the-works—I’ve been conceiving of a bigger-than-blogging writing project myself. Don’t get me wrong: I’m enjoying the blogging adventure thoroughly. I just think a little time away from it might give me some needed rumination space for this other idea.

In the meantime (or anytime, for that matter), I commend A-Town readers to my blogger-friend Holly Goes Lightly, whose latest post, “When We Used to Be in Love,” was so sweet (but not at all sappy) that I woke up thinking about it, with a smile.