On Wednesday I got home for work, played with polymer clay for two hours, and went to pole, where I made progress on my self-spotted backwards half crucifix. Go me. I rode home, and sat on the couch, reached for the tea-pot and realised my right wrist was so sore I couldn't pour the tea. I made Leon pour, we finished our evening and went to bed. In the morning I woke up, went to pull my sports bra over my head and , half-way through, discovered I was in disgusting pain. I couldn't make a fist and my wrist just hurt. My ribs were also bound and it hurt to breathe, but that's a thing that happens on occasion, so I wasn't worried, neither was the physio who poked at me for a bit and suggested wearing a brace. Oh here we go again . In 2014 I was in a brace for at least a month, and a while after I was finished with that I threw it out, because I couldn't stand the sight of it. It was a shade of blue that seemed fine when I first chose it, and was infuriating by the end...
My adventures in knitting, spinning, dyeing, reading and living life the best way I know how.