When You Lose Your Head

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Poor Barbie. Dismembered, beheaded, and thrown away by the Monocacy River. I passed by her for days before I finally stopped to pick her up. It’s not that I didn’t notice her or even think about her; I just kept hoping for a better conclusion.

It’s been a rough summer here along the Monocacy. First I realized that I had to move my father into a new living situation from York to Frederick by the middle of August ( see In Knots). Then my husband slipped down one of the river’s taller banks and tore his quadriceps tendon, which required surgery and a long recovery at home that isn’t over yet (see The Monocacy Rocks for the general site of the accident, and be forewarned!). And, finally, school was out. The less said about that, the better.

Poor me. But at least I’m not Barbie. I do have my head, and I’m back on my blog. That’s a much better conclusion.

2 thoughts on “When You Lose Your Head

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