Then I caught a cold.
And I had to go to the doctor.
They took an x-ray.
Turns out, I had pneumonia.
Bad pneumonia. (As if there is a "good" pneumonia.)
I had to cancel a visitor who I had invited to my home months ago.
This made me sad. :(
But, still, I had that pneumonia.
So I had to take antibiotics, breathing treatments, cough medicine, and an inhaler . . .
for a long time.
I was told to rest.
So, I did just that.
Then . . .
my back went out on me.
I went to the doctor. Again.
He said it was because of the type/strength/length of antibiotics I was on for the pneumonia.
My pneumonia went away.
But my back was messed up.
So, I stopped the antibiotics.
And a couple days later, my back felt better.
But then, like clock work, my allergies kicked in.
Tree pollen is bad.
I went to the doctor.
Yes . . . again.
He said I was a mess.
I told him I was a hot mess.
They think they are so clever . . . those doctors.
If you are going to call me a mess . . . you better get it right.
So, we talked a great deal about this and that.
He gave me eye drops and nose spray. I started drinking green tea with local honey. I closed the windows, and turned the air conditioner on.
And I felt better. A lot.
Then . . .
I turned 42.
I refuse to be a mess at 42.
My dear friend Peggy reminded me that I am most at peace when I blog.
And . . . she is right.
I had forgotten all.about.my.blog.
So today . . . I introduce myself to you, my faithful friend and blog reader.
My name is Leanne. I don't have pneumonia any longer. My back is much better. My allergies are improving day by day. And I am 42.
Oh, and I am an artist. And a wife. And a mom. (In no particular order.)
But we'll talk more about that at another time.
I have much to share. Many stories to tell of the past few weeks. Lots of beautiful photos to show you. And I can't wait to do just that.
But for now . . . I'll leave you with a short story.
While watching the girls play outside yesterday afternoon, I noticed that one single rose had started to open from my rose bushes.
One little rose bud. All by itself.
I have three rose bushes in front of my house that truly are the envy of many who see them. I can't even take credit for them, as we hired a landscaper to bring them and put them in. They are probably the plant that brings me the most joy . . . and I'll remember to take a photo of them and share it with you later this summer.
I could have looked at that single rose for hours . . . and I think I did.
Lately, I've been feeling very much like this rose. Alone. Surrounded by a few thorns who, while trying to protect it, may prick it and cause it the most harm. This little rose . . . desperately trying to open up, to heal, but uncertain what will happen to it when it does. Bright and beautiful. But cautiously optimistic.
And I can't wait to see what happens to it in the next few months.
I am starting a new journey this summer, too. Oh, yes . . . number of adventures are ahead of me. Traveling. Making and teaching art. Standing up for myself when people say hurtful things to me. Yes, I am cautiously optimistic.
Because even when faced with pneumonia or thorns . . . this life is good.
Wishing you peace, my dear friends.
And a great deal of thanks for the well wishes this month.
Oh, and hugs. Great big hugs.