Walking with Teddy and Fun in the Kitchen

Teddy Springfield came to walk with me this morning. He is half of a wonderful partnership—the other half is my Canadian daughter, Sue. Those two are so happily together it makes your heart sing. Teddy is a fitness buff and a retired chiropractor, two things that matter when I’m trying to learn to walk again. His strength is comforting—I know he’s not going to let me fall. And his knowledge of body and bones is helpful—he told me one evening recently that I had to hold my wrist stiff. He could feel the bones popping, and I was going to have trouble with that wrist if I didn’t change the way I held it. Since it’s my right wrist and essential to typing, I can’t afford to have trouble with it. Holding the wrist stiff and straight puts more pressure on my legs, which is good. Even I could tell that. Today, when I said my back hurt, he said it was because I was using muscles I hadn’t used in a long time. I’m going to ask him about that dreaded subject, spinal stenosis.

We walked the driveway to the point where it takes a sharp downward incline. Teddy was ready to try the incline but I wasn’t. Still, it was a longer walk than I’m used to taking, and I was tuckered when we got back to the cottage. The thing about Teddy is that he’s also one of the most positive people I’ve ever met. As we walk he utters soft words of encouragement, and when we got back, he was enthusiastic about how well I’m doing.

I don’t want to diminish the importance of the walking Jordan and Christian do with me, but there’s a difference—Teddy comes specifically to walk. The kids try to fit it into their busy schedules. Tonight, we had happy hour company—about 8:30, they all left the cottage to retreat into the house, but I didn’t get my nightly walk. Ideally, I’d like to walk twice a day—not on the walker, but holding on to someone—that requires more effort on my part.

Chandry and Lee, our guests tonight, brought wonderful snacks—cheese and apples, hummus and a dip. My contribution was an egg dish that a treasured friend gave me years ago. I never tried it because, well, I just wasn’t sure how it would work out. But I’m experimenting these days, and I decided it was time to either try it or pitch it. Tonight, I say it’s a keeper for sure. Essentially you hard-boil eggs and then make a pesto of garlic and parsley, olive oil and a hint of vinegar to go over the sliced eggs. Refrigerate. Delicious!

I also pickled blackberries today. Who ever heard of pickled berries? Yet in one week I read two recipes for them and decided I had to try. It was really so easy, and the cool thing is you get blackberry vinegar as a result. I’ve refrigerated the berries and vinegar separately but will make a marinated cucumber salad with them for company later in the week. Cucumbers with blackberries? I’ll keep you posted.

Yes, I did work on my writing today, but not as much as I should.

God bless a rainy day

If you live in an old house, a part of your ear is always alert for the sound of running water—when no water should be running. A while ago I was at my desk, wondering what that sound I heard was. Rain! It’s been so long that it took a while for it to register on my ear and my brain. Rain, glorious rain. It actually began to rain gently while I was at the deli with a friend for lunch, and it rained off and on all afternoon, most of it gentle, the kind that loosens the soil and soaks in so that if we get a heavy downpour it won’t just run off. Tonight I hear distant rumblings of thunder. I love a good storm as long as there are no tornadoes.

It looks as though moisture systems from the west and south could collide over our area, which might lead to spectacular weather. Supposed to rain all weekend, with totals up to eight inches. Not bad at all, although there will be flooding, especially at low water crossings, viaducts, and some intersections. I personally plan to spend most of the weekend at my desk, reading and working (note that I’m not sure of the order of those two).

Jordan, Christian, and Jacob are headed for Waco tomorrow for the Baylor homecoming weekend, which also promises to be wet and soggy. I admire my daughter’s attitude: “If it rains, we have ponchos and we’ll make it fun.” I can think of few things I’d like to do less than sit in the rain at a football game.

Jacob was a hoot this afternoon. Came home and headed for his tetherball. Came running into the house saying it was gone. So I asked where he put it last night and he told me, said it’s not there, insisted I come look. I got as far as the deck, while he was in the driveway—and got a sheepish look on his face. It was where he’d left it.

I called him in to do have a snack and do his homework. He wanted ice cream. Me: No, definitely not. Too much sugar. Jacob: Okay, then I want waffles. Me: No, too much sugar—the waffle argument went on for a bit, with me holding firm, until he burst out with, “Why do you care about my health?” The absurdity of what he’d said hit us both at the same time, and we got the giggles. One good thing about that kid is that he can laugh at himself. He had sparkling grape juice and popcorn. And then he said, “Juju, the painter heard every word of our argument.” Oh, the lessons I could have given at that moment.

By golly, next thing he was outside with the tetherball again. I ordered him in to do his homework and was rewarded with the familiar complaint, “Why do you have to yell at me?” Me: because you don’t listen to me. Jacob, who had gone to look at the bathroom progress: well, you don’t have to yell so loud. It echoes in here and hurts my ears. I wanted to ask how his ears survive when four or five boys are playing with the tetherball. All in all, I decided he gave me the best laugh I’ve had in days.

And he spelled all the words right, though I circled the word “argue.” He asked if he spelled it wrong, and I said no, I just thought it was an appropriate word. He said, “Meanie,” but he was smiling.

Tonight? A glass of wine, a book, listening to the rain, and early to bed.