That is the sound my back made last night.
I was trying to reach something on an upper shelf in the kitchen when a muscle that runs along my shoulder blade went thwang and I decided perhaps I should call Dearly Beloved and ask him to get it down. After all, one of the benefits of marrying someone who is over six feet tall is that you don't really need a step ladder in the kitchen.
So he came and helped and I didn't think any more about it until about 3 a.m. this morning when the muscle spasmed and jerked me from a deep sleep.
Due to better living through modern chemistry, I was able to get back to sleep for awhile and make it through the work day, but I am finding the area a little tender tonight and not inclined to help my left arm and hand hold my work so I can stitch.
So this is tonight's pitiful effort:
I'm taking Betsy Morgan's Edinburgh classes in May, and we have a bit of prework to do. This is as much as I can manage for today.
This getting older and breaking down is for the birds!