I ate my breakfast on the back porch this morning. It’s the first time I’ve been outside, and not in transit, since surgery. The hostas are blooming, and so is the parsley. I’m pretty sure parsley isn’t supposed to do that.
I am hoping I’ll get rid of the rest of these surgical drains soon, and start to get out more. Right now, between the Jackson-Perkins flasks and the track marks, I’m like a neon beacon to loss prevention associates.