6th Month Mark

Six months ago today the moving van pulled into South Bluffs delivering our belongings to the Memphis house at 123 Nottoway. Now, after building the office and replacing the pergola, we are awaiting the renovation of our master bathroom and repainting of the first floor rooms and second and third floor halls. The projects keep me busy, but in the end, leave me wanting more, whatever more might be.

The July and August suffocating heat has stripped away the glow of our first months in Memphis. The heat is worse than the coldest months of Chicago winters. I've got cabin fever from staying in the house to avoid the heat. It sucks the energy out of my body. It drowns my enthusiasm and irritates my humor. If I run, I must do it before 8AM. If I walk at any time, I sweat. To save my garden under the pergola, I must water twice a day.

Heat is not my only enemy. My shoulders have ached for some time. I attributed it to the move, the house painting and other projects I took on. But, two weeks ago, my shoulders seized while working on the computer at my client's site in Monroe, Michigan. This was the week after I did a series of 27 plank poses combined with downward and upward dog poses at yoga. My attitude was up for it, but my body obviously was not. The result was that I could not raise my left arm and my back from shoulder to shoulder was in constant pain. I could not sleep. When I ran that last morning before my doctor's appointment, pain radiated to my elbows and wrists. I finally had more than I could handle.

The doctor thinks I may have a pinched nerve or a bad disc at the base of my neck. The MRI next Monday should reveal the truth. In the mean time, the physical therapist has given me exercises to loosen the muscles. Most of the pain is gone now, but the steroids blasted a hole in a weakened upper arm blood vessel leaving me with a black bruise running from the top of my left shoulder down to my elbow. Is this a sign of my future -- one pain after the other -- or is it just a blip on my life screen? One conclusion is clear -- no more yoga.

I'm starting to make progress on my writing, but it's dredging unsettling memories. The notes I wrote 20 years ago are filled with events, people and places I can hardly remember, but when I do, it is upsetting. It's like drawing the carpet back, only to find dirt I did not know was there. Three unfinished chapters, 30 pages, have come into being so far-- Squall, Mystery Woman and Loss. But, I can't write in the first person. It's too intimate so I created a fiction. I'm constantly asking myself, "What do I tell, what do I keep secret, what do I invent?" I probe it all, living on the edge of reality.

September portents a change of season. I put away the white pants, jeans, and purse on the promise. My neighbors promised that the fall is long and lovely -- all the way through November. We are counting on it as we took the bikes in for a major tune up. In our four years in Baltimore we didn't ride them but once. We will be prepared for welcoming cool weather. Until then, we grind against the heat.