THE house, the hiatus
As I've mentioned elsewhere on this site, I lost a few years to a house project. Here it is.
My (dream) home. Except for the lovely fence and plants--oh, and the chimney and sidewalk--this is the house that Jack built (we'll pretend that's my husband's name--I'm sure he won't mind).
Writers worry about carpal tunnel syndrome from all that typing. I escaped that. I developed carpal tunnel from repetive rolling of paint onto walls and smacking a rubber hammer against a hardwood nailer. What? I did ask my doctor that very question. How could I type from the time I was 15 years old and never develop the first hint of carpal tunnel and then get it from 6 months of painting? I wore wrist braces at night and generally typed in misery since I wasn't supposed to take them off.
And then I visited a different doctor and was told it was probably tendonitis instead. I liked that doctor much better.
Fortunately for me, whatever the problem was, it finally disappeared about 7 months after the sudden onset of symptoms. The weakness--gone. The pain--gone. The house, I hope, is here to stay.
Assuming I can stay out of the path of any rogue tornadoes.