Pleasantness
Monday, January 15th, 2024 11:19 pmFor one thing, the sun shone today. After what feels like a month without, and the cloudiest December on record, this was a great mood lifter.
Then as I'm scattering useless ice melter on my oddly icy steps prior to hefting the rollator up them, a cheery voice asks if I need help. Couple walking up the street see me stepping ever so very carefully about the path. And since I went out in shoes, sidewalks being otherwise dry and going down being a lot easier than going up, I allow as I'd be grateful. So she hefts the thing up for me- 'It's heavy!' Yes it is, kind of- and her male companion starts kicking at the ice in that way I understand, like wanting to unscrew the lid someone else is having trouble with. So I give him the ice chopper and he clears all away to his satisfaction while she and I discuss the current polar vortex.
This is one reason why I really don't want to move out of this house and this neighbourhood. It's not that I'm close friends with the people on the street, but I know them even if, as with this couple, I don't know them at all. I hope to regain enough mobility to allow a few more years here, but figure that will need regaining considerable strength and losing considerable weight. Did weigh myself this morning and have gained less than a kilo over Christmas and birthday, which is miraculous given the vodka and tonics and Bailey's indulgence. At least I've managed to overcome the bike inertia and peddle my minimum 30 minutes a day now.
Along with my new property tax bill (erk) the mail also brings a card and photo from the Little Girls' family. 'You won't recognize L, she's grown so tall,' her mother writes. I look at the photo: mmh, L is up to her mother's shoulder, taller than she was when last seen but that was nearly five years ago when she was a preteen. Then I look at the names on the back. That's M standing next to her mother-- and the young woman who, sitting down, is nearly as tall as her standing father is that quondem little girl L. Good god. Neither her parents nor her maternal grandparents are overly tall. Like Vice Fearless Leader's son, something in the diet has trumped genetics to hell and back.
Then as I'm scattering useless ice melter on my oddly icy steps prior to hefting the rollator up them, a cheery voice asks if I need help. Couple walking up the street see me stepping ever so very carefully about the path. And since I went out in shoes, sidewalks being otherwise dry and going down being a lot easier than going up, I allow as I'd be grateful. So she hefts the thing up for me- 'It's heavy!' Yes it is, kind of- and her male companion starts kicking at the ice in that way I understand, like wanting to unscrew the lid someone else is having trouble with. So I give him the ice chopper and he clears all away to his satisfaction while she and I discuss the current polar vortex.
This is one reason why I really don't want to move out of this house and this neighbourhood. It's not that I'm close friends with the people on the street, but I know them even if, as with this couple, I don't know them at all. I hope to regain enough mobility to allow a few more years here, but figure that will need regaining considerable strength and losing considerable weight. Did weigh myself this morning and have gained less than a kilo over Christmas and birthday, which is miraculous given the vodka and tonics and Bailey's indulgence. At least I've managed to overcome the bike inertia and peddle my minimum 30 minutes a day now.
Along with my new property tax bill (erk) the mail also brings a card and photo from the Little Girls' family. 'You won't recognize L, she's grown so tall,' her mother writes. I look at the photo: mmh, L is up to her mother's shoulder, taller than she was when last seen but that was nearly five years ago when she was a preteen. Then I look at the names on the back. That's M standing next to her mother-- and the young woman who, sitting down, is nearly as tall as her standing father is that quondem little girl L. Good god. Neither her parents nor her maternal grandparents are overly tall. Like Vice Fearless Leader's son, something in the diet has trumped genetics to hell and back.
