Saturday, January 5, 2019
Friday, January 4, 2019
Off to See the Doctor
First of all, it was nice to sleep in my bed again. Having my bed and pillows, not to mention Isabella by my side, helped a lot. Yesterday, I was feeling a lot better. I’m still coughing and wheezing, but I’m feeling better. I’m still going to keep my doctor’s appointment this morning. I think I need a check-up to see how I’m healing and if any pneumonia still persists. Hopefully, I am finally on my way to recovery.
Thursday, January 3, 2019
On My Way
I'm on my way back home today. This has been a rough trip with as sick as I have been. I do have an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. Hopefully, he can do something. I just don't want to end up in the hospital. I just want to be home.
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
Day Two
It’s day two of the New Year and for the last month I’ve had a upper respiratory infection and pneumonia. I’d hoped to be over it by now, but I’m just not. I was so exhausted writing this post that I nearly fell asleep. I don’t go back to Vermont until tomorrow, but I’m calling my doctor today to see if I can get an appointment for Friday when I’m back.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
New Year’s Morning
New Year’s Morning
by Helen Hunt Jackson
Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year’s heart all weary grew,
But said: “The New Year rest has brought.”
The Old Year’s hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but, trusting, said:
“The blossoms of the New Year’s crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead.”
The Old Year’s heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: “I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year’s generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all my failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet peace where I leave strife.”
Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.
Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year’s morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacred nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacred days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.
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