'S Wonderful

George and Ira Gershwin's tune "'S Wonderful" was the wake-up song of the day.  The irony is that today is not 's wonderful, nor was yesterday.  The two "I" words to be avoided when living alone are illness and injury.  Must have twisted wrong when unloading goat chow from the truck the other day because that cracked rib from some months ago flared up.  It wasn't too bad until I reached out to grab Tessie's collar in the morning and almost dropped to my knees.  The rest of the day was a total loss.  Poor Bess; I scared her repeatedly as I'd bellow when hit by a stab of pain.  So far, so good today; it's manageable (until I cough).  I'm worried, however, as I've got to get one of those bags of chow down to the barn this morning.  I am such a whiner; Pete, who had open-heart surgery, and Dave, who had such a terrible motorcycle accident, never complained.  Only me.  It will be one foot in front of the other, albeit slowly, today.  I'm sure tomorrow's entry will be more upbeat, along the lines of "'S Wonderful."