Oh, I wish I was writing about cowboy spurs. I don't actually like the concept of something sharp and icky smacking into a neat horse's flank...but they are a part of Western culture. And that's where I set my books.
These spurs aren't meant for walking...they're hooked all around my right big toe! Now, I don't know about you. But I never gave my big toes much thought until one of them hurt bad and began to impede my regular life. What a lot of trouble a bad big toe can be!
I saw a podiatrist just before our dream trip (New England) which, as you know, was just before the nightmare--my hero's bout with testicular cancer. Now it's time to fix that bastard so I can dance at our daughter's wedding.
Dr. N says I can't do anything for ten days but read and watch TV...and computerize if I'm able. So I don't know when I'll be Back to the Blog.
I'm hoping like crazy to be able to get a proposal off to my wonderful editor, at least make the downtime worthwhile.
And my hero tells me with a big hug, now it's my turn to take care of you.
Sigh. What a guy.
