The last week has been a tough one. I’ve been fortunate in life, no major illnesses except for diabetes, which is pretty much a given if one is a descendant of Joseph Edgar McClure. I’ve suffered more from accidents, like the time I ripped open my thumb when it got caught on a ladder hinge when I was washing down my front porch. Then there was the time I nearly severed my forefinger when cracking pecans in a Fred Sanford pecan cracker. Luckily, I guess, both injuries were on the same hand, so it’s the only one that hurts in cold weather. Probably ten years or so ago, I had this beautiful big dog, a Mountain Pyrenees cross, and he weighed probably 120 pounds. He was a BIG dog, but considered himself a playful pup. One day he and the other dogs were running and playing and he ran into my right knee and knocked me to the ground. My knee has yet to fully recover, which is what led to the bad week. Some days the knee hurts more than others, and I have the bad habit of giving to it, which has in turn caused my back to hurt. Last Friday when I woke up, I could hardly walk. I stayed confined to a recliner all day Friday and Saturday, and by Sunday morning, mobility returned. I’ve been taking it easy since then, and the back pain has not returned in full force, for which I am most grateful.