Spring springs

Friday was magnificent.  Blue sky, not even a slight breeze, the temperature hovered around sixty.  I'm telling ya' it was a perfect out door day, and I could not resist.  With youthful exuberance, and great excitement I put on my working in the yard shoes, threw up the garage door, grabbed my yard tools and went to work.  I trimmed back the Hops that trail across the top of the garage door.  I took starts from the Trailing Hydrangea hoping to begin a 'trail' along my property line to the west.  I transplanted some daffodils and a few shrubs.

I actually saw neighbors, and chatted with them for a while.  There is one couple I see every day...rain or shine walking with their dog down the street.  I refer to them as the 'older couple'...then again I refer to everybody around my age as 'older' unable to admit to myself I am 'older' as well.  Matter of fact this couple could in reality be younger than I, but I will never admit there is any possibility I could be the older one.  Old makes me shiver, feel nauseous, feeble, uncomfortable and down right disgusted.

Which is why, a little after five PM, as I was winding down my outdoor activities, I paid little mind to the aches across my shoulders, and the few slug stains on my fingers.  It had been a glorious afternoon.  I got plenty of fresh air, some natural vitamin D, and exercise to boot.  As the little boy in the Kaiser Permanente commercial says.  'Things are lookin' up.'

Oh crap!!!!

Come 7:30 of the P of M, I'm lounging on the sofa, Zorro and I are comfy and toasty under an afghan, CC curled up on my chest.  The phone rings, (that is normally not a bad thing).

Ring.

So and so is on the line.

Ring.

So and so is on the line.

Ring.

So and so is on the line.  (Yes, my phone talks to me.)

I struggle to get out from under the blanket before the call goes to voice mail.  Ohhhhhhhhh, the pain, ohhhhhhhhhh, the agony, ohhhhhhhh, the desire to kill myself.  Every muscle in my body was screaming at me.  Should I fall over and die, or answer the phone?  The phone wins.

Do I let on to the party on the other end that I am in perhaps the worst pain of my life?  No sir-ee, bub, no sir-ee.  I try to keep my voice as normal as possible, because to do otherwise I would have to admit I over-did the physical activities of the afternoon...and THAT would mean I would have to admit I'm old.

And, I am not old, I am not old, I am not old.