Odd combination of pleasant and unpleasant morning. Spring has arrived – late compared to many places, but so very welcome – so outdoors the 25F degrees of sunrise will climb to 72 today and yard work will be addressed.

The pleasant part indoors, where I am, is the Saturday-morningness of it all - the freedom I have to stay in bed and surf, and read, and drink the only coffee my body will tolerate anymore (small part coffee & large part hot milk), and relax. The unpleasant part is the reason I indulge myself in the pleasant part: back spasms, the worst I’ve known since 2006, which lightningstruck blam as I reached across the bed to set my coffee glass down on the nightstand in the early a.m.

I’ve been hauling book boxes nonstop for months, and dragging/lifting great contractor-sized trashbags of dead books, and armloads/teetering piles of books to shelve or catalog, both here at home and at the two little Bookworm venues I manage. One would think I’d grow stronger. This is never the case, though. And yesterday I added the insult of shifting about the household furniture, exploding the office I’d kept in the livingroom to replace it with livingroom furniture. I brought in a loveseat I got from Freecycle and dragged the old kitchen table outside to give away. Then I dragged the maple table I’d used as a desk into the kitchen. And carried around hundreds of books books books in teetering piles and in impossibly heavy boxes.

But such happiness at the end of the day to see my house a home again, welcoming and open, and not the dark deepdusty bookcave it had become over winter.

And so now – spasms. Soon I’ll drag out the kidneybrace my bestfriendJane gave me years ago and strap myself into it, and then go about my day. But my body is telling me I must slow down.

Oh, but there's so much to do.