March 21, 2011

•   The world conspires to enable me continuing in a black, foul funk.  So far I have not indulged that opportunity today.  Not very much, at any rate. There was a phone call from my sister regarding the latest misadventure of our mother and her dementia. That threatened to turn the very day into one cataclysmic upset. Stuff with my mother does that to me.  So for a while today I dealt with in a very engrossing way: I cleaned my husband's back brace velcro of the accumulated hairs and fibers that were threatening to make it unusable.  I knew enough not to obsess over removing all the fibers and hair (what does he do, rub this on the labrador?) accumulated in each of those little wire loops. I did remove enough to construct a little golf ball of fiber. 

  Then I dressed and went out into the snowy second day of Spring. I went without my cane, because using it would just piss me off. I set my sights on a tree up the road. It is always up the road here. Anyways, I made it up the road to the tree I'd set my sights on earlier. Then I walked a little farther up the road to a place where the road plateaus for a tiny bit. I used the red Forest Service property marker as a reminder of how far I could go on this, my second day of going for a walk. I turned around and made my way back down the road.  My legs felt wishy washy and were not feeling strong. My legs haven't felt strong for a while now. But I made it back to the homestead and chatted with Erik for a little bit. The whole time I was walking, Lora was barking in protest at being left in the yard. Usually I will allow her to come with me off leash. But the road was snow on top of ice and I could not bear the thought of my poor dog ending up under somebody's vehicle wheels. And I knew I could not handle her on the leash today. When I returned to the yard, she started tossing her marrowbone up and about, letting it plunge into the granular snow refrozen after yesterday's melting temperatures. She was that happy to see me back. Since I have returned to the house she has not left my side. She rests on the floor next to the green recliner.  I feel a little more peaceful than I did before my walk. 

  Another cause to celebrate: I finally found the headphone jack on my computer so I can listen to music while Erik watches television. This makes me very happy, as the music helps to lift my mood and keep me happy enough not to search for food to eat to occupy my time. 

  I've been considering lately why I, and some of the women with whom I am friends, loathe exercising, resent it when we do it and feel better afterwards. It usually sounds like a grudging acceptance of a terrible fact of life, when in fact it can be considered a gift to move one's body. I know that I do not appreciate it often enough. I miss the bigger types of movement I have enjoyed in my past: softball, basketball. Tag with my kids. Running around outside naked on a chill April night, playing hide and seek with my lover, crouched beneath the deck watching him search for me while I sprinted back to the safe tree when he bypassed my hiding spot, unaware of where I hid. I miss the big stuff. If I don't watch out, I will start to miss the little stuff:walking in the house, walking outside, walking walking walking. It doesn't need to be a hike of the Long Trail with a full pack over three days. I would like to walk once more on easy hiking trails, maybe down to Silver Lake and back. Maybe up to the Falls of Lana. If I do not make these smaller walks, building my endurance on the incline that lurks outside my door, I will not be able to make the bigger walks in the woods, along the Robert Frost trail. For now, I need to practice walking everyday. Move it or Lose it. Literally.

  Blessings abound

  • 2:40 pm
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