Small packages

At my home, we have bottled water delivered (not just because I like its flavor better than what comes out of the tap, but having a few extra bottles around gives us in-case-of-earthquake supplies). We moved from five-gallon bottles to the three-gallon size, because the five-gallon bottle was too heavy for either of us to lift (they didn't used to be too heavy for me, but you know what's behind that part of the story). And my poor wife, for several months, has been the one stuck with loading the new bottle onto the dispenser.

Except today.

I loaded the new bottle into the dispenser. Myself. All by myself. For the first time in many, many months. And, I must say... I was amazed at how easy it was, and how well I did it.

While I was getting the bottle from where we keep them on the back porch, I was thinking about how long it had been since I had been practicing kyudo in the back yard, and then I saw that ... one of the chairs... has a back just tall enough to brace me as I draw the bow. I've been doing nothing but bare-hand practice for way too long; I've been afraid to use the bow because it kinda pushes back at you, and I've been fearing that it'd make me fall over backwards onto a very hard concrete surface. But... just maybe... this might work. I'll try it later this weekend--I may not have enough "oomph" to set up a full-on working target, but at least I can draw the bow.

Accommodations, we discover those all the time. Improvements? How often do those happen? Even small ones?

You take what you can get, when you're traveling the Neurological Highway. And sometimes...

You get presents.

And it's true what your mother always told you: the best things do come in small packages, don't they?