Best Day Out
Today, aside from some chest tightening and some muscle aches, I feel pretty good. Of course, the massage didn't hurt.....so nice.
I've been trying to walk and exercise more. Some of you know that I had been an avid, very faithful exerciser for years, and then, seemingly from last fall on, had been really struggling to maintain consistency. Mostly I beat up on myself, tuning in to a steady stream of KFKD radio, eating shame for breakfast, lunch and dinner because that is what I do, but now I'm wondering if the cancer was sapping me of my energy. At least, that's the story I'm sticking to.
So this morning, while my kindly neighbor Lorene looked out for the kiddies, I walked the giant horsey-dog down to the river. I've been told I'm difficult to keep up with while walking, to which I merely reply, "That's not the only thing you can't keep up with" and keep walking. I feel much better, symptomatically speaking, when my heart is pumping. Psychologically speaking, it makes me feel strong and well. And so I am.
On my return, while approaching the bridge at Wilson, a city worker was very thoroughly and quite proudly, as far as I could tell, cleaning off the bronze faces that line the wall under the bridge. I was so taken by his actions, whether he was paid to do this or not didn't matter, I don't think. He had two rags--I think one was to get the majority of the cobwebs and dirt off, and the other to dry and shine the faces. I said thank you to him as I passed, humbled and gratified that someone was taking the time and more, the concern, to beautify a part of my walking-biking-running route that I've always enjoyed.
Ever since those faces went up, they've delighted me. The variety of expressions afford as many possibilities of character as ones' imagination is willing to entertain. They can elicit a laugh from a pudgy toddler who sees an old man with wrinkled, yet jowly cheeks sticking his tongue out. Or a sentimental sigh from a young woman who sees in one face the same poignant sense of sadness she feels in her heart. They mirror the vast ocean of human diversity and experience, and they reside in Loveland, a small pond with little experience to boast, but a lot of bronze.
I love that he was washing their faces. Perhaps the tenderness in the action, though it wasn't as though he was sobbing great crocodile tears over them or even moved himself, but perhaps his tenderness gave me hope that I may yet approach my fellow humans with more kindness and generosity than often comes naturally. Or maybe I just liked that they were being cleaned. It seemed nice, somehow, that they were being cared for. I hope not at the expense of Loveland's real people who live under a bridge, of course, but maybe there's room for all of it.
I may have to go wash my mouth out with scotch, this post is getting so sweet. Well, it was a nice moment, and maybe a non-acerbic moment is refreshing. Don't get used to it.
Thankfully the fear fled for today. Katie assembled a gigantic carnival in the back yard, complete with sheets attached to tree limbs to serve as stage curtains, couch cushions lined up and covered with blankets as a stage, a bowling game, hula-hoop booth, a massage booth, a "fanning" booth (during which Megan would fan you with a tattered Chinese fan), and I don't know what all else. The child's imagination and initiative is endless. She's got more energy than anyone I know. Emily and I have to nap just watching her. Megan, of course, blows off energy by leaping around and wreaking havoc, which in turn ends up with Katie yelling at her, sounding every bit like me. Eliza managed to sneak out of her nap three times, after which I gave up and decided she must not be that tired. When Clark got home, we were treated to the "Spooky shows" on the stage, which involved Megan as a vampire, Katie holding a spider from a stick, and the phrase "I eat teenagers" more times than we could count. Clark and Emily got to be contestants in a game, and Emily won. Clark cried, so Emily gave him her prize.
Tonight, the best part was when I was brushing Eliza's teeth and norming bedtime behavior (as if it actually works.)
"Eliza," I said, "Stay in bed." I was very stern.
"You Heather," she replied.
"Yes," I said, "I'm Heather, and you need to STAY IN BED tonight. Say, 'Yes, Mommy.'"
She looked at me with her big brown eyes, said slowly, "Yes, Heather."
Good night, everyone. Thanks for tolerating me. Oh, and by the way, Qdoba's starting a Monday deal--chicken burritos and a soda for $5 on Mondays. Sweet!
I've been trying to walk and exercise more. Some of you know that I had been an avid, very faithful exerciser for years, and then, seemingly from last fall on, had been really struggling to maintain consistency. Mostly I beat up on myself, tuning in to a steady stream of KFKD radio, eating shame for breakfast, lunch and dinner because that is what I do, but now I'm wondering if the cancer was sapping me of my energy. At least, that's the story I'm sticking to.
So this morning, while my kindly neighbor Lorene looked out for the kiddies, I walked the giant horsey-dog down to the river. I've been told I'm difficult to keep up with while walking, to which I merely reply, "That's not the only thing you can't keep up with" and keep walking. I feel much better, symptomatically speaking, when my heart is pumping. Psychologically speaking, it makes me feel strong and well. And so I am.
On my return, while approaching the bridge at Wilson, a city worker was very thoroughly and quite proudly, as far as I could tell, cleaning off the bronze faces that line the wall under the bridge. I was so taken by his actions, whether he was paid to do this or not didn't matter, I don't think. He had two rags--I think one was to get the majority of the cobwebs and dirt off, and the other to dry and shine the faces. I said thank you to him as I passed, humbled and gratified that someone was taking the time and more, the concern, to beautify a part of my walking-biking-running route that I've always enjoyed.
Ever since those faces went up, they've delighted me. The variety of expressions afford as many possibilities of character as ones' imagination is willing to entertain. They can elicit a laugh from a pudgy toddler who sees an old man with wrinkled, yet jowly cheeks sticking his tongue out. Or a sentimental sigh from a young woman who sees in one face the same poignant sense of sadness she feels in her heart. They mirror the vast ocean of human diversity and experience, and they reside in Loveland, a small pond with little experience to boast, but a lot of bronze.
I love that he was washing their faces. Perhaps the tenderness in the action, though it wasn't as though he was sobbing great crocodile tears over them or even moved himself, but perhaps his tenderness gave me hope that I may yet approach my fellow humans with more kindness and generosity than often comes naturally. Or maybe I just liked that they were being cleaned. It seemed nice, somehow, that they were being cared for. I hope not at the expense of Loveland's real people who live under a bridge, of course, but maybe there's room for all of it.
I may have to go wash my mouth out with scotch, this post is getting so sweet. Well, it was a nice moment, and maybe a non-acerbic moment is refreshing. Don't get used to it.
Thankfully the fear fled for today. Katie assembled a gigantic carnival in the back yard, complete with sheets attached to tree limbs to serve as stage curtains, couch cushions lined up and covered with blankets as a stage, a bowling game, hula-hoop booth, a massage booth, a "fanning" booth (during which Megan would fan you with a tattered Chinese fan), and I don't know what all else. The child's imagination and initiative is endless. She's got more energy than anyone I know. Emily and I have to nap just watching her. Megan, of course, blows off energy by leaping around and wreaking havoc, which in turn ends up with Katie yelling at her, sounding every bit like me. Eliza managed to sneak out of her nap three times, after which I gave up and decided she must not be that tired. When Clark got home, we were treated to the "Spooky shows" on the stage, which involved Megan as a vampire, Katie holding a spider from a stick, and the phrase "I eat teenagers" more times than we could count. Clark and Emily got to be contestants in a game, and Emily won. Clark cried, so Emily gave him her prize.
Tonight, the best part was when I was brushing Eliza's teeth and norming bedtime behavior (as if it actually works.)
"Eliza," I said, "Stay in bed." I was very stern.
"You Heather," she replied.
"Yes," I said, "I'm Heather, and you need to STAY IN BED tonight. Say, 'Yes, Mommy.'"
She looked at me with her big brown eyes, said slowly, "Yes, Heather."
Good night, everyone. Thanks for tolerating me. Oh, and by the way, Qdoba's starting a Monday deal--chicken burritos and a soda for $5 on Mondays. Sweet!
Comments