Where am I?

I don't know whose life I am living, but this certainly isn't what I imagined myself doing in my mid fifties. It's possible I may never get used to working 8 hours a day five days a week every week of the year. It seems a strange existence even if I am doing what comes natural, and I am thankful that it does, but it still isn't what I had envisioned...

Last night, after a painful week and much frustration, I made a visit to the chiropractor. I am rarely totally free of pain in my lower back, but today it was noticeably better. I was relieved not to have any restaurant sized cans to wrestle this week, but we do have a new baby in our infant room. He is not quite 11 months old and weighs about 30 pounds. I'm not joking. Lugging him about is an injury waiting to happen, and he's just a baby.

After my chiropractor appointment I went to the pottery studio. I'd desperately wanted to go over the weekend, but the weather did not cooperate with my intentions. I found my little trinket box on the glaze shelf. (I took the picture with the bottom turned around backward.) A music box was waiting on the bisque shelf, and another was patiently waiting to be cut open and finished. And of course, I worked on assembling another box as well. Maybe this weekend, if I acquire some fresh clay, I will take a turn or two on the wheel again.

This evening I got out of work 15 minutes early, filled my gas tank, and came home. My people were here, I washed the dishes, and made a batch of banana bread for my little grandson to enjoy. It was a good night.