Whatta week. I went back to work last Thursday and woke up on Friday morning with a grumpy knee. Being up and about at work--walking around so much, driving to and back, etc.--took its toll. But on the whole, I'm glad I went in. But on Friday, I decided to stay home in the morning to rest my knee before going in. Then one heck of a storm rolled through the Bay Area. Good God, we had wind and rain! Real weather. We Californians rarely get such stuff. My poor daughter was scared. She tucked herself between her bed and the wall while the wailing winds and big gloppy raindrops pummeled the house. And, naturally, as the winds blew in a rare northern gust, our big old spruce tree out front was ripped at. Little branches starting landing on the house. My kid cowered under her bed. Then a big wind whipped up and three BIG branches came crashing down on the house...on the very wall where my child was shivering in fear. Yow. She was fine. Daddy calmly removed her to the warm comfort of the family room. (It's much nicer to huddle together in fear anyway.) The house wasn't perforated. Nothing was damaged...except for a gutter. Oh, and I suppose the old spruce tree is now suffering some sort of post-traumatic stress. Think of it...poor thing. One day you're a fine tall spruce tree, enjoying your position as the grand elder tree in the neighborhood and the next you're suffering from an assortment of ripped limbs and you're all tousled. Very disconcerting, I'm sure. And, naturally, I can't help but draw an analogy of such sudden physical trauma to one's diagnosis and surgery for PVNS. Yeah, I know. It's a stretch, but I do think that as I recover from my surgery, I have an empathetic compatriot in my big old spruce tree right now. We're insulted by injury.
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