Once again this will be a poor excuse for a blog, but as my dear Mamma used to say.....it is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.
I am preparing my mind and bod for the hourlong session with Jay, my adorable physical therapist. I sort of dread it beforehand, but, after it is over I always feel better and am thrilled at my progress even though I may ache for a while.....there is always Tylenol and it is a thrill to be able to lift my own leg up onto the footstool.
I have a new achievement to brag about............as some of you may know I have been doing a lot of crocheting durng the past 10 or 20 years...........actually I relearned the art back when Pete was alive and we used to sit in the den and watch sports on TV for hours......I decided there had to be something fruitful I could do during that time so I took up crocheting and have been producing prodigiously ever since....mostly afghans for friends and for the clients of Meals On Wheels (the wonderful charity who feeds the elderly, many of whom are given our lap warmers on their birthdays.) Of course I also keep the prettiest ones for myself.....why the hell not?....... and I have been enveloped in one while in my cosy chair for the past few weeks while playing out my version of Camille.......languishing theatrically (but certainly not wasting away.)
Anyway, I have this remarkable caregiver named Consolee.........a gorgeous young woman from Rwanda, Africa, about whom I will write more later, but she was observing me looping away and said she wished she could do that. I must confess that one of my worst lacks has always been the art of teaching, but I offered to try to teach her if she wanted to learn and, due to her extreme intelligence and my slightly improved patience she learned instantly and the two of us have been sittting together in the afternoons crocheting away looking like a tintype photograph of some ladies of 100 years ago....what a hoot......in less than a week she has produced a gorgeous scarf , off white with some stripes of olive green and turquoise, festooned here and there with a row of popcorn ball stitches and finishing in a fetching fringe. She is crazy with joy over her scarf and her new skill.....claims it is great fun......and I am tickled to have been able to pass this pleasure on to her. Who would have dreamed??? Perhaps she can keep the art from dying out or at least have a great time trying. Anyway, it has been a wonderful fringe benefit of this odd adventure I am experiencing. And, in the process I have made great progress on the afghan I am working on so it is a win-win situation.
Yesterday was not a great day for either of us.....dunno why we behaved like escapees from shock therapy or something, but today is better and if I survive the physical terrorist we plan to roast some barbequed pork chops for dinner along with a side dish of apple, cinnamon and brown sugar compote. If you would like to drop in, we have enough to share.
The New Yorker covers: February 10, 1968
7 hours ago