Life in Flux

After the visit to my hip surgeon on Tuesday, life has set off on a slightly different current for me.  I did not realize that I must not kneel down on all fours.  That is injurious to the new joint, I was told.  I must never again think about kneeling, squatting, or running.  Well, the running is a non-issue with me.  But kneeling in the dirt or to clean up spills and floor messes, and squatting to see to a child or to take a photo?  It seems a little cruel.  I now have these truly adorable grandchildren to love and a steeply sloping yard for gardening, and rather than plunging into it with arms thrown wide, I must re-think how I do any of it.

Solutions:  I will have a chair nearby for any meltdowns from the children, and I will turn my energies to container potting— right after Charles and I get the perennials in.  I have found that I can dig left-footedly, so if I dig, perhaps he will be kind enough to get close to the ground and set the plants in place.  And I do have a start on an outstanding collection of pots (in Knoxville the ground was too rough, and I put pots on the deck and gardened there for the most part), which I will expand.  With the large pots, I can still break soil between my fingers and sit in a chair and plant things. . .

And when all the hard work is done, I can look out the windows of the studio and stitch the shapes and colors that are the result of our labors.  Soon Charles will open the fountain, all the little ground creepers will be put between the stones of the patio, and life will settle into late spring and early summer routines.  Not being able to kneel in the dirt is certainly a more than fair trade-off for having no pain and needing to be careful of where and how I walk.

Meanwhile, I have taken a book down from the shelf and am immersed in studying Stitch Dissolve Distort with machine embroidery by Valerie Campbell-Harding and Maggie Grey.  I wrote about it on Free the Stitches this morning, so pop over and take a peek, if you have a moment.

Test Driving the Walker

Charles, who must be out and about every day (it's a genetic trait; I should write about the adventures of his father and grandfather some time), proffered a trip to a bookstore and lunch at Sweet Tomato(e).  So, here I am, ready for the big outing.  I still haven't figured out how to attach a tote to the walker and make it look attractive.  That will be next week's little project.  And I probably need to do something about the crocs.  Tim Gunn calls them "hooves."

The book store, a lovely gently-read shop, had a nice selection of Agatha Christies, so I bought several for reading in the next months.  I am stockpiling good books against the more stationary times to come.

At lunch, would you believe there was another lady with a walker?  Hers was the race track model, quite unlike my more modest one.  But she had such a great attitude about her own mobility that I don't feel so badly for myself, now.  After all, I am out and about, the day is a 12 on a scale of 1 to 10, and there is always the studio for playing.

The Walker and I

I never thought I would use a walker.  Walkers are practically a fashion accessory of elderly women.  Today, however, when I could not stagger through the house and keep my balance even with my cane, I thought I'd give the walker a little whirl.  Just try it out.  See if it was really a wonderful option . . . .

Guess what?  It IS wonderful.  I actually walk in a straight line, now, and maybe a bit faster than the old cane-dependent Nancy.  Best of all, I don't list to one side like a ship taking on water, so I feel better.

Oh, well.  I guess my newest fashion accessory is Charles' walker.  Maybe I could crochet a little scarf for it, or knit booties . . .

Date Is Set

Hip Surgery is scheduled for October 25, Monday. I discovered, today, that surgery has a lot of strings attached, that I will see my doctor for a physical, anesthesiologists, and cardiac people. . . At the appointment this morning, Charles asked questions and my eyes began to glaze over. TMI!!! I wanted to shout. Don't tell me anything more! I do not want to be a well-informed patient. That would give me all the information I needed to lie awake nights between now and October 25th and worry. And worry.

The house closing in Knoxville yesterday went quickly. It was a cordial sale.

Now we are starting on the kitchen. I don't have a drawer that will begin to hold my silverware. And useless base cabinets with narrow doors that don't let you get in there to find anything. Drawers-- is it possible to have too many drawers? I don't think so. It will be nice to see the boxes stacked in the basement and in a corner of the sun room opened up and things put in their proper drawers.

Injection #2

Second epidural today (Tuesday). Less painful than the initial injection two weeks ago. I waited a long time in the doctor's office, so I got some stitching done. I am immune to the curious stares of strangers as I choose my chair by the quality of the light source and begin to setup my work area.

Hmmm...I am not supposed to operate machinery, and I think that warning extends to the computer. Off for a bit of a nap. The pain meds will wear off soon.