I'm getting kinda tired of this. For the second time in less than two weeks, maybe less than a week, I forget, one of my plants tipped over and shattered the ceramic pot. Last time, I replaced the pot exactly, and just dropped the root ball back in the same way. This time, I went a different direction. I bought a large plastic pot, and raised the soil level up higher, so I was not tempted to place this plant on a stand. It was the same stand that tipped both times, once outside and once in. I thought I was solving the problem, putting the wobbly stand inside, pressed up against the window, thinking it would be less likely to tip. Today I had the blinds lowered, because I was cleaning them with the steam machine, and I was resting in between fill-ups of water. I saw Harvey making his way to the window, and my hand went to the release lever of my recliner, so I could stand up and chase him away, when he threw the pot to the ground. Yes, I said all the bad words. No, I didn't do anything to the destructive little trash panda. It would have changed nothing. I just resigned myself to going out to buy yet another pot, and grabbed shoes and my purse and left with my shoulders slumped.
Part of my calculus in climbing to the top of the peak at the Trail Ridge visitor center was that I knew I had a massage scheduled for today. I could get all inflamed and sore from the hike, and then have good, deep knotwork done to make up for it. Well, that didn't go as planned. My regular guy has gotten sick several times in the last year, and canceled on me each time. It happened again. I got the call an hour before, while I was showering and shaving my legs to go. I scheduled an hour with a therapist I don't know as a makeup, but that won't be until Wednesday. This may end up a muscle relaxer before bed kind of night.
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