Sylvia's Journal

I had considered staying home yesterday as a new snowstorm was blowing our way. Unfortunately our internet connection was (is) not working. Axel talked for hours on the phone with technicians in Bangalore and godknowswhere. But nobody was able to solve the problem. It was clear that if I stayed home, I would not be able to send and receive email; the thought of my nearly clean in-box filling up with emails without me noticing was unbearable so I decided to drive to work.

I left the house in a freezing rain less than 6 hours after I had gone to bed, hoping to encounter as little traffic as possible and zip into town. My 5 AM departure practically guaranteed such a ride. A freezing rain threatened to upset my plans but it did not.

I surprised myself with a level of energy that made no sense given my trip to New York and the little sleep I had had. I was able to take care of things that needed to be done and keep my nose above the email waterline.

And then it began to snow again. Looking out over the Charles River from my window it looked just as bad as it did on that commute-from-hell day last week. I got on the road around 2 PM. This time most of Boston had either already left or was waiting the storm out in their homes or offices. There is such a thing called learning-from-experience it appears. By repeating exactly what I had done last Thursday I was one of the few who seemed not to have learned from experience, but the trick worked as some of the variables were different. It took me 30 minutes to get fairly close to home and only then I hit a minor traffic jam.

I made it in time to my PT appointment, the first in a week. Julia asked me what I wanted to work on (to hell with the body part distinctions made by Blue Cross Blue Shield). I opted for trap(ezoid) work. My upper back and shoulders respond badly to stress, sitting at a desk for hours and travel. Julia put hotpacks under my shoulders and another one around my hip, turned the light off and left me alone for awhile. It was heavenly. I drifted into near sleep, woken up by an alarm Julia had set and, and then submitted happily to a deep tissue massage..

My improved gait has remained and my flexibility in my ankle has clearly increased. Unless I am tired, I walk quite well, although each step remains a bit painful, but tolerably so.

At home I found my office in great disarray because of the internet puzzle; wires sneaking in and out of my closet, and still no access. Axel, with a flashlight clenched between his teeth was still in detective mode and not in a good mood. Tessa stood in the kitchen shoveling leftover food from a plastic container in her mouth. There went my hope for a nice sit down dinner. Axel went to the Manchester Club (aka in our household as ‘the old fart club’) and was picked up by Edward Cushing who promised to watch over alcohol consumption. He did, Axel had diet cokes, and only one weak moment (not sure if that was an admission of guilt or one of weakness).

The absence of internet access turned out to be a blessing. I started a fire and settled into a chair with a pile of things to read while Tessa, hidden behind a huge computer screen (as graphic designers require), worked on various Christmas related projects, one of them our Christmas card and other things I was not allowed to see.

Edward dropped Axel off, their bellies visibly full with roast beef (and those diet cokes) and we chatted for a while. We had not really seen much of each other for at least 6 months and so there was much to catch up on. Tessa went off to see a friend and Sita and Jim were ensconced in the barn where Sita was apparently engaged in near mortal combat with her her sewing machine. I suspect another Christmas project. You’d be surprised to know that there are Martha Stewards in our households.