This day started out late-fall-ish and is winding up with winter blown in. It was drizzly all day and then when the cold blew in all that wet pavement turned to ice rinks. My drive home was... um, interesting. My short walk from the car to Papa Murphy's and back with the supper pizza was... exciting. I am so glad that I don't have to work tomorrow. If I wasn't having company on Sunday I'd lie around and pretend that I didn't see the dirt or clutter. Oh, and I'd pretend that I hadn't been crocheting too much and had my hands revolt last night at yoga with such intense hot pains that I cried. Mardi says there's no crying in yoga, there can be crying at yoga though. No matter what I did I couldn't make them feel better, so I stopped at Walgreen's on my way home and bought a brace so I could wear one on each hand all night long and all day until I sat down here to type. I didn't knit, I didn't crochet at work today. I did have to type which was an adventure with both hands in wrist braces but I managed. Feels better in the braces. My fingers aren't numb. Carpal tunnel, anyone?
December 14--German, Hunting Sword. It looks like it would be hard to hold with all the flourishes carved into the hilt but it nestles into the palm of your hand. "Like it was made for it," Megan said under her breath. Then she laughed at herself. Of course it was made to fit into a hand, it was a sword. She closed her eyes and imagined what life had been like when the sword was new. That was what had drawn her to anthropology, figuring out how people lived their lives. Using artifacts as simple as a cooking pot or scrap of linen or as fancy as this silver and ivory sword was her favorite way of figuring out the way lives had changed or, more likely, stayed the same over the intervening years.
Wouldn't you love to be able to sift through the artifacts in a museum? I often wonder what's down in the basement that never see the light of day. I'm off to batten down the hatches. It's blowing up something fierce out there.