Collateral

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This is a picture of Ms. V. after participating in our first-ever Mud Ritual, in which we fling mud at one another to exorcise our frustrations. It is harmless to humans, though makes a mess of the walls and floor.

No, seriously. In the period after I nearly killed myself, I was trying to find things I had lost in the bike crash. No easy matter when your mind may not be quite right. The most important missing thing was my wallet. It must have popped out of my handlebar bag when everything went topsy-turvy.

I had, with remarkable foresight, put a "Tile" tracker in the wallet, and it did show on my cell phone that the wallet was at or near the site of the crash. So I sent Ezra to look for it, but he couldn't find it. Then Ezra and Ms. V. went back to try again. They went at it with gusto, slashing into the thicket, using rakes and a picker, and of course tearing through the undergrowth with their gloved hands.

Bad idea. They never did find the wallet, but they brought back with them raging cases of poison oak.  Thus do caregivers become the cared-for. Ezra brought his case of poison oak under control by discipline and force of will. Julie went to urgent care a couple times, and finally made two visits to the doctor to bring it to heel. I, in my shuffling, not-quite-sick, not-quite-well state, made a few pathetic suggestions.

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I have made a couple visits to doctors, and have a whole raft of appointments set up for the coming weeks. I wish I was getting paid to attend. We actually have a lawyer friend helping us with our paperwork.

My buddy Mark has made remarkable progress and may be going home as early as next Wednesday.

There's nothing better than home.

With grandson Jacob.