Accommodations in Wyoming

I'm not sure, exactly, what the term tapped out really means, what it refers to -- something in a bar, maybe? -- a maple tree devoid of syrup? --  but it sure describes how I feel these days. Despite the near-daily posting that I've done and a few exceptions, I'm irritated by the preponderance of pretty superficial posts I've put up in the last couple of weeks. Writing is like water, an element for me and I need to go back to digging deep. A million thoughts churn through my mind as I go about my day, but when I sit down to actually write here -- well, I'm just too dang tired.

I realized that I haven't given a Sophie update in quite some time, but I'd say, comfortably, that she is "trending better" and is due for her next infusion of IvIg next week. She is STILL not in school -- which is the main reason for me being a tad bit crazy, I'd say, but you pick your fights...  Not much is new, and when the wind turns and we get a break, well, it turns the other way just as quickly -- or not.

Erosion, giving the land its appearance, is said to be the work of water, ice and wind; but wind is, almost everywhere, a minimal or negligible factor, with exceptional exceptions, like Wyoming.

John McPhee

A relentless southwest wind blows in the Laramie Range of Wyoming. It has blown for eons, scraping the mountains bare of soil, carving out the landscape. It causes trees to grow at an angle and lifts into the air things that ought to stay on the ground. It complicates all manner of human activity. People who live there successfully have reached an accomodation with the wind; some who couldn't, went insane.

Disability is a steady west wind in our lives. It permeates our existence, altering the topography of our days and causing our family and our life to grow at an angle. Without judging the wind as good or bad, we can observe the truth of it, acknowledge the force of it in our lives, and take the measure of our accommodation.

Barbara Gill from Changed by a Child