Back to work after the bike accident. The quick post-wreck mac and cheese dinner made a great lunch box meal two days later. People asked if I was sore. The truth was things hurt that I didn't even know I had. I worried I went swiftly into the old body night without warning. Would I feel better than this, ever? Am I going to be the lady with the weird walk that looks like everything hurts? If it was to be true and thank God it wasn't, I didn't want to know. The natural healing process would confirm later that I would be just fine and back to my annoyingly fast pace walk, no weird ticks.
I made a pot of split pea soup with my left over ham bone to get back in the groove of life. The addition of fresh dill to the traditional recipe, the only deviation, but that brightened it up quite a bit.
We headed back to the scene of the crime to say thank you to the Firefighters who let me store my bike on my way to work. P would take it in to get it fixed. We noticed the street was renamed Seven in Heaven, after the fighters from this battalion that perished on 9/11.
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