The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

occasional indifference

with 5 comments

It’s all so depressing.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Not too much to report to you today, Lords and Ladies. The hermitage season has certainly seen me shooting a whole lot of macro shots of foodstuffs, but otherwise a humble narrator has been stuck in the house nursing a wounded shoulder and disabled right arm. Wish I could describe some outré tale about the infirmity, but just chalk it up to age, and the “pain squirrel.” One has hit that section of life wherein something hurts every day, and whichever branch of the bodily tree that the pain squirrel has decided to inhabit that morning is where you’ll find the offending sensation.

Aches and pains are just a part of life, like taxes and a lonely death, after all.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The shoulder thing has been a “mofo” however. I’m right hand dominant, and unfortunately the limb that hand dangles off of is the affected one. My left arm is used as little more than a paper weight, and the right one has been nigh useless for about a week. If this sort of thing was occurring in my left arm, of course, I’d be in a hospital and under the care of a cardiologist. Saying that, this has little to do with the heart and circulatory system, instead it’s a pinched nerve which is slowly unpinching. Opiate pain medications were required just to accomplish a few hours of sleep when the condition first manifested, and one was forced to fashion himself a sling. Shoulder and tricep were dancing around unbidden within the skinvelope, my bicep muscle felt as if it was being eaten by a horde of beetles, and my elbow was reporting back to the brain that it had become hollow. Additionally, my wrist was of the belief that it had become packed in ice.

The dog was quite concerned, but she made a play to assume the alpha/dominar position in our household pack.  What can I say, she’s a dog, that’s what they do when they sense weakness. In the case of my dog, of course, rebellion took the form of her staring at me while she “woofed.” Her play ended when Our Lady of the Pentacle got home, since we all know who’s really in charge around here.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Accordingly, I’ve got zilch as far as new stuff to show you this week. Today, and for the next couple of days, it’s going to be shots from the archives – such as the twilight shot of the Sunnyside Yards above. Pain Squirrel and canid rebellion notwithstanding, the show must go on.

“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle


5 Responses

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  1. stay off the drugs go to a chiropractor

    Tom Bornemann

    February 16, 2016 at 12:22 pm

    • y’know, I’ve never experienced a chiropractor, Jacobs Ladder ruined that for me.

      Mitch Waxman

      February 16, 2016 at 12:29 pm

  2. “Aches and pains are just a part of life, like taxes and a lonely death, after all.”

    Now look at what happened to Elmhurst-raised and bred Judge Scalia – his lonely death. They found him in his room at the ranch in West Texas peacefully lying in repose, hands clasped over the sheets, and a pillow over his head. Heart attacked and dead – alone. Not even a dog to look on and woof.

    georgetheatheist . . . Momento mori

    February 16, 2016 at 2:57 pm

  3. I’m depressed, too. I feel as if I have experienced the lonely death, and can’t leave the body. My beautiful dog, Woody, died before Thanksgiving. Write a post of your lovely pet. It will cheer me up. 

    Mary Caulfield

    February 17, 2016 at 10:27 am

  4. More on Judge Scalia. He had a wife, 5 sons, and 4 daughters, grandchildren galore. And he died ALONE in the Chihuauan desert of West Texas.

    “Aches and pains are just a part of life, like taxes and a lonely death, after all.” ‘strue.

    georgetheatheist . . . Momento mori

    February 17, 2016 at 11:35 am

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