Thursday, January 1, 2009


Uh vey... I feel very much like a lame horse at the moment.

Got up bright and early to take my usual two mile walk. I carried four pounds of weights in each hand and five pounds of weights around each ankle, and away I went, iPod nibs (or whatever you call them) jammed into each ear canal, "pumping iron" for 32 blocks.

Since that's my usual routine, that alone didn't "get" me. Here's what "got" me:

All four of Jackie's grandkids stayed overnight, as did Phil and Wendy (Casey's and Jamie's mom and dad; they're Jackie's son and his wife -- but most of you know this already.) It's our tradition to play games until midnight on New Year's Eve (along with Wendy's mom and dad, George and Sue) and then Grammie Jackie gets out pots, pans and metal and wooden spoons and everyone goes out into the night, stands on the lawn, and awaits the final countdown. On the very first second of each new year, our neighbors get "serenaded" -- er, more like "violated" -- (and remember, we're new in this neck of the woods this year) by what probably sounds like an old jalopy dragging tin cans down the road accompanied by yells and shouts. Naturally, all dogs within a mile radius start barking. Isn't this a lovely way to ring in the New Year?? (I'd wager right now that you're giving thanks you don't live next door to us! Would I be right about that???)

Some of the adults drink hot buttered rum, spiked eggnog, hot toddies or other concoctions (I don't drink at all), and as they do this, they get louder and more boisterous with their game playing. We played Racko last night. I played three or four hands (won one) but then I retired to the couch to read another Chris Tiegreen book called "Creative Prayer" as we awaited the Noisy Neighbor Moment. (I didn't go out at midnight. I know, I'm a party pooper, but I love my neighbors and prefer to "do unto others..." you know the rest....)

Anyway, back to my lameness... before this blog entry becomes lame all by itself...

About an hour after I got back from my 32 block walk this morning I thought I might take in a matinee movie, but Wendy told me that the movie I planned to see (Marley and Me) is on their agenda on Saturday as a family outing, so I decided to wait to go with them. Finding myself at loose ends, I asked the three biggest wee ones (Elizabeth, 10, Casey, 8, and Isabella, 6) if they'd like to go for a walk. YUP! YOU BET'CHA! BOY HOWDY!

So they bundled up and we went around again (32 blocks), stopping at the playground for some swinging and silliness about three quarters of the way around. By this time, my left heel (which has been bothering me so much that I got orthotics for Christmas, which help, but I'm not supposed to wear them more than an hour a day to start, so I didn't wear them the second time around) was "talkin' to me" pretty seriously, but I managed to limp home and get inside the house and sit down... at which time precious Jamie, age 4, sidled up to me and said, "Will you take me for a walk now?" (because she's too little to go two miles, she didn't get to go with the older girls and me earlier).


At first I said no, but hey, she's too cute and too sweet to say no to for more than six seconds, so I said, "OK, I will, but it can't be for very long, okay, because my heel is starting to hurt." (Understatement!) She beamed and said, "OK!" and bundled up and away WE went for probably another half mile. Along the way I became more and more lame.

By the time we got back to the house, I was on my last legs, but I had done my duty as a grand aunt, by golly!!!

I put hot water and Epsom salts into the tub and stepped in (ouch! because of my heel, not the water) and soaked for a good half hour. It felt better.

But every time I step on it anew it requires a "breaking in period" before it stops hurting like the dickens. I think I have plantar fascitis again (except that I don't know how to spell fascitis...). That's when the tendons and sinews in the bottom of your foot scream bloody murder for the first minute or more every time you step on it after sitting or lying idle for a while.

It could be worse. I'm not complaining. I could just use some sympathy and a "well done" from all of you who know what sacrifice is.


I love those kidlets. They're worth every bit of this heel pain...

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