Home sweet home.

Yes, like Huck Finn with the Widow Douglas, I found “sivilized” life confining and have escaped, but not without considerable adventures. I saw the inside of three emergency rooms in three days. Instead of being treated, I was sent for “financial counseling” with broken bones displaced, and as a result, nearly lost a limb. Finally on Christmas Eve, with time of the essence, I found a place that would treat me, but once the bones were back in place and stabilized, had to wait a matter of weeks for the swelling to go down. Now finally the surgery is done, and I have nothing to do but wait. I have no idea how I’m going to manage, but if I may mix literary references, I think I’ll borrow a page from Scarlet O’Hara and “worry about it tomorrow”.

(For the two Aussies who read my blog, that’s good Australian port in my glass, and no, you can’t substitute Portuguese.)

Just thought of something. With all the new hardware in my foot, how do I get past TSA at the airport?

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