The Ardmore Avenue Project continues. I once again found the rocks piled in a mound, and for some unknown reason decided to try something new (not radically new, after all they're only rocks). I re-arranged some of the larger rocks to locations they had never been before. Twice I had completed the work, and twice it fell down. (Note to self: get steel-tipped shoes.)
The final result was quite interesting and refreshing, though, obviously, not so pleasing to the night crawlers. When I returned this morning, the rocks had been totally knocked down again. Wish I could have put it back up as it was, but my arm was too sore for that.
For years my right arm has been painful. My retirement from dentistry was prompted by the growing discomfort in both arms, with the right far exceeding the left in both pain and limited mobility. After x-rays and an MRI, the greatest medical minds of our day (those being the doctors I've seen) have reached the conclusion that the leeches aren't working. (They tasted lousy, anyway.)
We've decided on a new course of action. One in which they slice and dice the elbow down to the wrist, put it in a blender and pour it back into my arm. I'm assured that this will do the trick. It definitely will sideline me for a good four months. (During which I'll be known as "Lefty.")
It also seems very likely that I won't be lifting large granite rocks in the future. (I really shouldn't be lifting them now.) So the voice of the Fat Lady is in my head. Now, if I could only get her to help me appropriately dispose of the rocks.