This morning it is a beautiful day here and Tom said, "what do you want to do today?" I looked out the window and thought, well, here comes another day of sitting with my leg propped up out on the deck. But I said, "First we'll start with a hike up Mount Tom, and we'll have left the kayaks down at the Wood River, and we'll kayak down the Wood and at the take out we'll hop on our road bikes, ride sixty, come back, have lunch, go out for a six mile trail run, then, when that's done, hop on the mountain bikes and ride for an hour. Sound good?"

I try not to be down or be a bummer and for the most part, I'm okay. But it's hard to spend a nice day sitting.

Yesterday we brought our alpacas for an educational thing at a local farmer's market and I could not engage with the crowd or kids much. I did get up a few times and hobble over to answer a question but for the most part I sat. And sat. And sat. My poor a**.

As week two of recovery comes to a close, here are my observations:

1. I don't have as much pain, for the most part. Unless my foot rotates left. Then it hurts badly. Sometimes I can't avoid it turning or me turning on it. Rotating to the right works fine. I can wiggle my toes fine and flex my calf fine. If I lift my leg straight up the quad muscle seems to pull on a tendon or ligament that irritates the break, so I have a tough time raising it up to prop it. I have to use my hand to grab the velcro tab in front. I can lift the foot toward the knee and push it away like pointing the foot with no pain but some stiffness.

2. Muscle condition: In two weeks, the lower leg muscles are dwindling.

3. Crutches / movement - I have become an ace on the crutches. I can put some weight on the cast and so have been working on doing a little of that but not a lot. It feels strange and not straight when I stand on it, and I don't want the bones to grow wrong! That's probably being paranoid but... anyhow I can do some "walking" but resort to the crutches mostly. I have callouses on the meat of my hand where the thumb comes in. I thought about wearing bike gloves but that would look so eighties.

4. Clothes: I have worn more skirts in the past two weeks than in the past two years.

Next week, my family was all supposed to meet out West at a big lodge we rented. I was all set to go with the plane tickets and originally had a bike rented, and some hikes planned with my brother. After the break, I resigned myself that once I get there, my vacation will basically consist of seeing the local sites with the less mobile part of my family. Well, on Thursday, my Dad (who has alzheimer's) was out in his garden and was bitten by a copperhead. He's been in the hospital since. My first inclination was to fly down to see him but this was no a realistic plan so my sister flew down instead and she is doing a great job of being a help to my Mom. Anyhow my Mom is hard pressed to keep up the vacation plans and I have spent the last two days frustrated about this. I am not sure why I am so frustrated by it but I feel like there is no way he is going to recover in time for them to go, healthy as he is (besides the AZ.) I can't control everything so this week has been a lesson in learning to be humble and not trying to control everything. Or be right all the time.

My Dad wrestled with a Copperhead

Okay, not really.

But yesterday, my Dad was out by the pool pump messing around, and was bitten on the hand by a Copperhead.

At first, I did not freak out. This is the Captain. He can do anything. He's tough.

But, he's also stubborn. And he has Alzheimer's. Well, according to my mother, it's "just dimentia."

With his Just dimentia, he is confused. He doesn't understand why he is in the hospital.

When I talked to him on the phone, he seemed panicked when I asked him about the hospital. When I joked with him about the hospital, when I said, "Hey Dad, a snakebite, that's pretty badass. So are you all settled in for the night?" the response was a shrill sounding command for me to check my resources because he didn't know what the hell I was talking about.

It made me feel like I was twelve, caught in a lie.

And frankly, it scared me.

It's amazing about how with family, the stuff that you feel from a tone or just a word is so amazingly tied to emotion. Talking to my sister on the phone, I felt myself become tense and irritated when she mentioned going out to "take care of the snake." When I said that that task was better left to an exterminator, she reminded me with a haughty little laugh that I should remember she used to work at a nature preserve and knows a thing or two about snakes. This really got my hackles up. I am not sure why.

My other sister flies down tonight. This is a sister who never flies. That is how serious this is.

And my other sister and two brothers are mildly allowing me to handle flight control, which is not a bad thing but again, there's that weird family thing - that "underneath lies the truth" and the truth is a big pile of resentments lying coiled like a snake waiting to bite.