New Mexico Moonrise

Stunning moonrise this evening.

Moonrise next to the outhouse

Having a bit of a flare.  Too exhausted to do anything today and my joints hurt.  Just yesterday I was thinking about how I needed to get a new handicapped parking permit and how I wasn't feeling like I needed one.  What would I say to my doctor to explain, if I walked in feeling pretty ok?  The usual: some days are pretty good, some days are awful.  But because I wasn't feeling awful yesterday, I had a hard time believing my own self:  Do I really have days that are that awful?  When it's hard to take a few steps or to carry a grocery bag?  I remembered, in a remote and abstract way, that I did, but I couldn't quite believe myself.  Today, though, I know in a visceral way what those days are like.  Yes, I do have days like that. 

It's like childbirth: after it's over you can't really recollect the nature of the pain, you just know in an abstract way that it was very painful.  I suppose it's a necessity that we can't remember pain with the same vividness that we can other kinds of stimuli such as the scent of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.  No one would ever give birth to more than one child.