Remember being four or five or six? I do. Or I think I do. Mommy has just told me -- get ready. We're going to the market. I don't know this at the time because my little brain can't even imagine it, but for her it is just a chore -- probably something she doesn't want to do. Marketing is no small task for a family of seven -- two adults and five kids. It always requires two shopping baskets. Two completely full shopping baskets. And Mommy doesn't shop the same way that Daddy does -- letting you con him into fruitloops and Cap'n Crunch at the same time. Plus dingdong's. (Yes Daddy, we tell him, Mommy always lets us get these. And every time he falls for it. But secretly I know that the real reason is that he likes dingdong's more than anyone else in the house. Who can resist them? Plus, Mommy doesn't allow candy so dingdong's are pretty much the closest thing you can get to a candy bar. Anyhow, I can't wait. I start jumping up and down just a little bit. Okay. Maybe a lot. I put my arms down by my side and put my small fists in my lap between my legs to control them. I have a very big smile. I can't help myself. I'm going to the market. I will get to sit in the little seat in the shopping basket and put my legs out so I can dangle them. Or maybe I will ride in the back of the shopping cart with my brother until the basket gets too full and we can't fit anymore. Then I will shop with Mommy, clinging to her sturdy legs, sometimes hiding behind them when market ladies try to talk to me.
At this point you're asking: has Janet taken too many drugs? Probably. But that was my attempt at explaining just how excited I was yesterday to go to the market. I did feel like I was four. Or maybe I felt like I was 80 and a shut in who was going out for the day. I suppose that's a more accurate analogy. But less romantic. I am becoming more and more empathetic. I think a lot about aunt Betty in the nursing home, day after day stuck in the same place. Watching the same TV shows. Listening to the same people yelling and crying for help. Hoping for a visit once or twice a week. Knowing she must be positive during that visit or else risk alienating her visitors. What a terrible life.
Anyhow, the market was great. Went to whole foods and it lived up to its reputation as whole paycheck. I think it might've been two whole paychecks. I bought a lot of nice food and I bought some new conditioner and some vitamins and creams... and I won't give you the total. But it was a lot. Diane drove me and she brought Charlie, her four-year-old, along. I went with my cane that can fold out into a little chair. I definitely used it. I kept telling Diane that this would be what it would be like to have two kids. Diane, get me this, I would ask her. Then Charlie would say mommy I want this. You know -- maybe we said it differently, but we were both clamoring for the same thing in the same attention. We spent two hours in the market. I'm still pretty slow. I mean, if I could get all the people on Betty's floor in the nursing home to race me, I would lose. No kidding. Then I came home and my house cleaners were here (I'm now trying to have them come once a week rather than asking visitors to clean my toilet -- not a very hospitable way to treat your guests.) Charlie and I were sitting in the living room watching the Magic School Bus -- and Diane was downstairs doing laundry when I heard my upstairs neighbor coming in and out of the house. Actually, it was a housesitter staying there. Then I heard a crash. It was a really loud noise that came from the garage. Long story short, a spring broke. Thank God for Bill across the street. He happened to be home and came running over with his stepson and tools. He came back this morning and it's already fixed. Bill is the busiest guy in the neighborhood. And probably the nicest. Anyhow, that was my day.
Last night Doris came over and showed me her great photos from her trip to New York. Cool dragons in the New York Chinese New Year's parade. . She even watched American Idol with me -- once she got over the shock that I'm completely hooked on it. I am. I don't know what it is about the show, but I love it. Now I know she's a true friend.
I figured that because I did so much walking that I could cut myself a little slack and only do my physical therapy twice yesterday rather than three times. But I also got on my CPM machine and really bent the hell out of my leg. I woke up in the middle of the night in parentheses a bad habit) and I could hardly walk. My knee was really stiff -- more than it has been. But I think that was just doing a lot. Still, I will admit that at five in the morning I started feeling badly -- maybe even a little pessimistic. To be honest, it is the first time I've felt real pessimism. But I'm not going to give into it. I called some friends and I'm going to try to get some visitors. And I'm blogging. Mostly I'm going to not give in to these thoughts. They are just passing emotions, right?
It's 10 a.m. and I'm in the machine. And I'm going to do my exercises. My knee is already feeling better -- looser. Now I'm signing off to go do my "real" exercises.
PS I borrowed the image from here.
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