-- Patience. It's not always easy being waited on, especially when the kind helper-outer doesn't do things the same way as I do.
-- Multi-tasking is fine, but focus is better. Because my injury and The Boot on my right foot prevent me from moving too fast, all of my transportation is quite intentional. As a result, I've grown to like moving a little slower; my heart rate and relative stress levels are feeling the relief, too.
-- I need some new socks. They may be my favorites, but they're looking a bit threadbare in the toes, which doesn't look too keen when revealed in The Boot.
-- Having a big family is fantastico. When we all gathered to celebrate my grandpa's life, I counted 35 of us -- and that's just my immediate family on my mom's side. I love it and all of its accompanying laughter and rowdiness.
-- Laughing at a funeral is just as appropriate as crying. Especially at stories about my grandparents I'd never heard before. Especially at my sister for having to lead the singing of a hymn (chosen by my mom) that she didn't know.
-- "Misery loves company" isn't completely true. Instead, I discovered even strangers are sympathetic. As a result of my quite visible limp and Boot, people I've never seen or spoken to before in my office have felt compelled to help me out or simply offer words of encouragement as I've recovered. One woman I'd never seen around before even approached me in the hall and cheered me on when she noticed I was no longer using my cane!
-- "Legacy" isn't just a word. I gave the eulogy at my grandpa's funeral, and while thinking of what I was going to say and stories I wanted to share, I discovered traits of my grandpa that have been present all this time in my uncles, mom, and even my brother that had just never struck me before. Another point for being focused and intentional, I guess.
-- Short-term mandatory rest can be a good thing. Two days after the sprain, my mother-in-law actually asked me if I was bored. With all that reading, knitting, and napping I accomplished, I should think not.
-- Apparently, I'm not too young for masses of gray hairs. Enough said on that topic.
-- It's good to be almost back on my feet again. I drove for the first time in nearly two weeks today. I took my first longish walk today. I returned to cooking dinner today. Nice.
This last week has been eventful for me and my family. My ankle sprain was only a small part of it.
On Tuesday, my grandpa, who suffered from dementia for so long, passed away. I never knew that dementia was such a cruel disease until I saw how it ravaged him. While I'm very sad about Grandpa's death, I also see something in his passing to celebrate, albeit quietly. As a believer in heaven, I have faith that he's whole again.
I'm going to be a way for a little bit. Resting, swapping stories and memories, and spending lots of cozy time with my family are on the schedule. Now go out there and hug somebody you love.
What was intended to be a quiet, relaxing Thursday evening turned out to be not so relaxing and rather painful. While letting Groucho the Wonderpooch out for his nightly trip outside, I stepped funny off the stair of our deck into the yard.
A trip to urgent care that night and a couple of doctor visits yesterday morning later and I'm now harnessed into this rather fashionable foam-and-plastic ensemble for the next few weeks. Oy. Hobbling about on crutches is a slow and sometimes humbling mode of transportation for me. Due to significant hearing loss my sense of balance is lackluster on good days so I have to laugh at how I must look clutching walls and other stationery objects just to stay upright.
Scott is a big one for believing that things happen for a reason. I grin when I think that maybe the reason was because he was intended to wait on me and attend to my every need. He's been a super nurse, but it's still a lesson in patience for this lady who usually prefers to do everything for herself. I'll have to get used to having a chauffeur, too, since it's my driving foot that's out of commission.
Some crazy-long hours at work have prevented me from really digging in, but I've made a good start on the back of my sweater vest. Since it's in dark blue the photography won't be all that exciting (not that I favor myself by believing I'm a superior photographer even when the yarn is light-colored). Instead, the front makes its Miss Julie debut.
For my first foray into cables, I don't think I did half-bad. And the color combo just wows me every time. Though it doesn't display quite accurately here, it's navy blue, periwinkle, and an acidic lime green.
I've even got the perfect puce-green colored shirt, complete with 3/4-length sleeves, to wear under it.
Do you remember this, my ChicKami? Well, it now looks like this:
I thought long and hard about it. I finally realized that the reason I dreaded working on it was because the fabric created by the yarns I chose was just wrong, wrong, wrong. There was too much bulk and stiffness and not the pliability that I wanted. Seriously, who wants to wear a tank top that can stand on its own power?
I don't know what I'll do with the yarn and I'm not sure when I'll attempt the ChicKami again, but I feel satisfied with my decision. Now I can focus on the good things heating up in the Upcoming Project Incubator.
I've been in a bit of a block knowing what to write these last days. The domestic activities of last week, when Scott and I stayed up past 1 a.m. every night painting and working on our home, and the busyness of work seem so inconsequential when compared to what my countrymen and women are experiencing on the Gulf Coast.
Even mine and Scott's fifth wedding anniversary, which we celebrated last Friday, loses a great portion of its joyfulness in the shadow of all that's befallen our nation since last weekend.
The weather here in Michigan has turned just lovely. And at any other time I would feel my heart soar at its beauty. Instead, I can't separate myself from television news accounts and, because I don't have access to TV at work, online reporting from The Washington Post and others. Surely the pictures are too horrible to be real and the stories too unbelievable to be true; yet I know that's not the case.
So when my feelings of sadness seem overwhelming, I remind myself how thankful I am that my sister Becky was able to move home from Baton Rouge a week before the storm hit -- a coincidence considering no one knew the storm was going to hit. I'm quietly grateful that she is home safely with us when so many others suffer greatly.
Donating seems insufficient an effort, but it's all I can do at this point to help. I hope you'll join me. I support the efforts of World Vision, but there are so many other worthy agencies giving aid.
