It rained a bit

I'm back at home, had a terrific massage from a woman who spent her youth in theatre (so we had plenty to talk about in addition to my back issues). During the massage, I tried to remember these lines from Sean O'Casey, couldn't quite get them, but I came home and dug out my copy of Red Roses for Me and here they are: 

Who through every inch of life weaves a patthern of vigour an' elation can never taste death, but goes to sleep among th' stars, withered arms outstretched to greet th' echo of his own shout.

In the afternoon I went to a gym to explore what the back doctor calls "Riverwalking," walking in water to strengthen core muscles without straining the back. I think it's going to be an option for me, as my health insurance covers a gym membership, but the person who needs to sign me up wasn't in today. Maintaining mobility is going to require time and attention I'd rather be giving to other things, but hey ho, as one of my favorite blippers says. 

Margie's daughter tells me she'll go to a rehab facility for a couple of weeks when she's discharged from the hospital. Meanwhile one of her sons has stayed on so that he and the daughter can take turns being with Margie around the clock until she gets "settled" in rehab. They'll let me know when she's ready for a visitor.

It rained so hard the city drains were overwhelmed. That blessing. Rain.