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Son and the grandgirls were here over the Christmas holiday.  Here they are studying something important.   Can you imagine what it is?

20161228_164802

20161228_164113

Drone

 

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Pedometer 1

The final indignity that has opted me out of modern gadgetry was an old reliable pedometer that finally ran out of batteries .

And of course, no one could figure out how to open the battery box.

Maybe it was frozen in shock at how few steps I walked in the last five years.

I mourned that little pedometer and somehow knew a substitute would require a Masters’ Degree in Programming and hours of frustration to get up and running walking.

Forced to buy a new pedometer- three or four new ones  to be exact- they all challenged my intelligence.

It’s not that I’m not intelligent.  I used to be considered a bright child.

But that was in the good old days when life was simple.  There were no huge technological innovations calculated to make things easier.

Life was easy enough with Off and On switches you might have to get up for.

But I am ranting.

Even after hours of reading and re-reading I could not decipher the directions to all the new pedometers stacking up in a secret hiding place reserved for storing complicated gadgets.

Asking for help, as you may know, is humiliating.

But trying one last time, I ordered a supposedly SIMPLE  PEDOMETER that “is operational right out of the box!”

Really?

I could hardly contain my excitement when it came – a simple little drop-in-your-pocket pedometer with great big Easy Read Numbers and a little pull-tag.

I pulled the tag (according to the directions) and it was ready to go!  No intelligence required!

But where were the instructions to program calories burned, body mass indexes, breaths per minute, miles consumed, muscle contractions, levels of perspiration, or all that other irrelevant stuff?  Not there.  What a relief!

All I ever wanted to know was STEPS!

And, although I hardly believe it, this little gadget ONLY REGISTERS STEPS!

No need to purchase another 550 page book on Pedometers for Dummies (I wonder if there really is such a book)!  I already have Computers for Dummies, Windows 10 for Dummies, and Office for Dummies, plus a few more.

“By golly,” as they used to say in the good old days, when I was intelligent,  “Someone has figured out how to regress to simpler times.”  Kudos to the inventor of this precious little Steps Only Pedometer!

And  now maybe I can fool the world into thinking I have a Master’s Degree in Programming.

Why can’t everything else be this easy?

Why do I always have to pull out the directions for my self cleaning oven?

Shouldn’t I just be able to hit “Clean??

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In the Face of the Storm

 

Cloudy Skies and Virtual Clouds

Early in the week the son was still here and managed to finally convert me to the virtual Virtues of the Cloud. What used to be that fluffy thing in the sky is now an imaginary cloud that holds all the information about you and your life.  And all you have to do is a technological rain dance to retrieve things!

Now I can find a fuzzy picture taken four years ago of a street sign reading “Road May Flood”.  

I thought of that photo because it was raining when Corky arrived and raining when he left.

It rains for two days at a time here now in Virginia.  And if you need to mow you had better do it on the third day.

Dashing in the Dashlane

dashlane logo

dashlane logo

My myriad of passwords (a million or so) are now retained in that ethereal CLOUD too.  Dashlane miraculously  signs into Amazon (and those million other places) for me.  Woosh and I’m in!

The result? If I forget the Magical Master Password to get into Dashlane I won’t remember any of my million other passwords.  That almost happened last night.  Talk about PANIC!

Ten Minutes at the YMCA

The week’s major feature was a return trip to the YMCA after a seven month absence dealing with BigFoot. The Big/NowLittle Foot is still  sporadically sending pain notices via Plantar Fasciitis to the heel, clear reminders to pay attention or else!   This  stop at the “Y” was therefore a gentle new try for ten short minutes on the NuStep thing (no dashing or crunching, moaning or groaning – a short practically nothing workout for legs and arms).

And what joy and divine energy were generated in those ten minutes at the gym!  And the foot stayed happy along with the rest of me!

Personal Pride and a Personal Trainer

Give me ten minutes of ego driven personal pride and I was back to the YMCA today for a  one hour session with a personal trainer.

Justin’s task was to re-introduce me to the YMCA’s torture chamber equipment.  And now that I am steeped in knowledge about Range of Motion numbers, weights, and repetition goals, I am fully prepared for a full return to the world of fitness.  Hurrahhhhh!

All I need is a “Range of Motivation” motivator or a viable plan for commitment.  Hahahahahhhha!

Too Tall for Comfort

A new patio/deck umbrella arrived (purchased online from a place logged onto by Dashlane!).

The umbrella is the right color and advertised as “wind resistant” (no mention of rain protection) but it is practically perfect.  The only problem is it’s a push up/non-crank style and is too tall for me to raise and lower.  Ever ready to accommodate all obstacles, I volunteered to keep a footstool handy.  But falling off the footstool in an effort to raise an umbrella did not make much sense.  Packing the thing up to return to sender also seems formidable.

Bill, to the rescue, says he can cut the pole back by six inches!  Would that it be true since we will not be able to return the umbrella with a hacked pole (not hacked in the sense of breaking into a computer mind you – hacked in the sense of sawing and pounding on a metal pole  – O.K.,”forgedda about it!)

Such are the perils of buying online.   You have to think of everything and be sure to enter detailed specifications.

Sold on Selfies

Finally, though I haven’t told Bill or Corky yet, I bought a $4.98 Selfie Stick!  I am so excited about this and hoping the distance between the camera and my face will make for passable pictures (hopefully slightly blurred).

How surprising it is to actually come up with a list of Randoms when I always think there is nothing to say.

And now I am wishing you (and me) pleasant randoms for the week to come.

 

 

 

 

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downtown lexington bistro

Downtown Lexington, Virginia has been abuzz with activities, young folks, traffic, and busy restaurants and shops.

It all has to do with end of school stuff (three universities in the area), plant sales, art shows, farmer’s markets, and the advent of Spring and Summer!

My friend Norma and I had lunch downtown at The Bistro.

The quiche was grand, the atmosphere was upbeat, and best of all, we had the chance to catch up on our lives.  It is always so surprising how much there is to talk about after about three or four weeks.

Corky is here!  That’s our son, who arrived Wednesday from California.  We met him at the door (like in the commercial) with all our technological questions (and gadgets) stored up for repair or clarification and pleas to help us with everlasting computer confusion.

 “Hi, good to see you.  Come on in!  None of this works.”

Cork has been offering Windows 10 lessons ever since he arrived.

I am now safely floating around in the Cloud too, but I keep thinking of the song, “The Little White Cloud that Cried.”  Isn’t there danger in trusting a cloud with all your family pictures?

 

Corky may be slightly overwhelmed by all the required tutorials.  Tomorrow will be devoted to Dashlane – a site that will store your passwords for you.  I think that is like a vault (in the cloud?).

“Everything on Microsoft is RIGHT CLICK Mom.

Now what do you do next?”

“Right click,” I reply.

“Great!  You are getting the hang of it.”

We had dinner at The Pink Cadillac again, which now boasts an expanded menu!  Interested in fried shrimp?  It’s there.  Or pulled pork barbecue?

pink cad interior

Like everyplace else around here, the old place was crowded with happy people.  Isn’t this a wonderful time of year?

Finally, who can discount the weather?  It rains almost every day. And folks are getting fed up with humidity and downpours.  I still love the sound of raindrops falling though, and tend to run around cracking windows open to increase the volume.

The good news is Big Foot is now reliably Small and the plantar fasciitis less sensitive.  It’s still there but seemingly subsiding.

It’s Bad Luck Day – Friday the 13th – but around here, there is a whole lot to be thankful for.

 

 

 

 

 

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rise-and-shine

It started with Bill’s cold and nagging cough.

To avoid germs and assure peaceful slumber, I moved to the guest room.

 I woke up at 9:00 that morning thinking, “Wow, it’s really late and I NEVER wake up at 9AM.  There must be something wrong with me.”

I even wrote the whole event down in a journal to take to the doctor at checkup time.

A day or so later (while still languishing in solitary confinement) I woke up at a more acceptable 8AM.

Regaining consciousness is sometimes a bit of a feat but I managed to glance at the clock and thought,

“Why do I not hear Bill in the kitchen?”

To further explain this you need to know Bill is a man you can tell time by. 

Example: He used to take GI showers (rinse, turn off water, lather, rinse). 

One day Son called and asked to talk to his Dad.

“He’s in the shower,” I said.  “Oh,” said Son, “Is he on the first or second wash?” 

You get the idea right?  We can tell where Bill is at any given moment.

And he is normally in the kitchen at 7:15 AM SHARP making his own breakfast.

I studiously avoid Bill in the kitchen because I tend to give him morning sickness.

Lest you judge my wifely aptitude, I used to make his breakfast but he could never eat it because he said he felt sick. 

One day I didn’t wake up in time and he made his own breakfast and felt fine. 

He determined I made him ill and has made his own breakfast ever since.  

Anyway, on this particular morning from my place of solitary confinement in the spare bedroom, I was listening for Bill in the kitchen.

He is usually promptly there puttering at 7:15 AM.  The clock said 8:00 AM and there was utter silence!

I struggled to fully wake and kept looking at that clock.  Waiting.  Waiting.  8:10AM.  8:11AM.  Where was Bill?

And I had a panicky thought.  “Maybe he is dead.  What should I do?

Should I take a mirror in to test his breath?  No, I will wait a little longer.”

At 8:15, I became overwrought so staggered into the master bedroom.

Sure enough, Bill was there but he turned and looked up slightly blinded when I put the light on.

“What’s wrong???” he groaned.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes,” said he. “Why?”

“It’s 8:15,” I said.

“No, it’s only 7:00 AM!  Go back to sleep.”

And so it was that the clock in the guest room was wrong.

It was wrong the day I thought I slept until 9AM and it was wrong the day I thought I lost Bill.

Although there was after all, a happy ending, I am furious and have further lost faith in anything electronic or digital.

I am convinced we need to regress to simpler times for wind up clocks with numbers that do not light up.

A horse and carriage would be nice too.

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Don’t cry over the past, it’s gone. Don’t stress about the future, it hasn’t arrived. Live in the present and make it beautiful. — Unknown

New Light Source in Antique Fixture

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sale

My closets are full  but devoid of the latest transformation-al apparel.  A person with a big foot needs life altering duds.

My face/body needs creams to wake up a winter complexion preserved in anti freeze.

And my hair needs more “products” – maybe even a wig!

There is a definite need for exercise gadgets to assist in achieving svelte beauty.

And the house!  Well, the house needs all sorts of replacements for worn out items….. maybe me included.

Big Foot has discovered any and all needed or not-s0-needed-items

can be found ON LINE (no electric go-cart necessary)!

Hurrah!  And just think of the big sales on now!  All that “stuff” is practically free.

Of course this is  self-deception to fool myself into never leaving a chair (and of course, being suckered out of all my money too).

I blame it all on Big Foot because the big boot I drag around means I greatly resemble Scrooge’s ghostly partner, Jacob Marley of Charles Dickens’  A Christmas Carol.  Marley was cursed with dragging around heavy chains for eternity.

Jacob Marley en.wikipedia.org

Jacob Marley
en.wikipedia.org

But poor Marley did not have the benefit of  modern technology and “retail therapy” on line!

  • He missed the thrill of the hunt,
  • then pride and joy in finding obscure gadgets,
  • and Woohoo! – a breathtaking plunge into the lurking danger of dealing with an unproven website!

But there is more:

  • The waiting and anticipation of delivery,
  • breathless expectation of the arrival of something new,
  • actually dragging the box inside,  and then
  • the exquisite joy of opening to discover the wonders within!

The problem with all this deviant behavior (even if it is a welcome diversion from lugging around cursed weights), is it becomes slightly radically compulsive.

I fear I am slipping into that obsessive compulsive realm of online shopping.

Will you, my friends, help with clever ideas for coping with boredom?  I am doomed to wear this big boot for 3 to 6 more weeks – maybe even longer!  Here are some suggestions from friends to date.  Your additions would be oh-so welcome.

Read (I am reading, reading and reading ad infinitum.)

Blog (Yes, I am blogging with little to write about except for online shopping adventures.)

Study Windows 10 (One page is enough because I need another manual to decipher the one page.)

Watch Television (That’s good for a few hours if I don’t count falling asleep.)

Sort Old Photographs (I am planning that but procrastinating)

Write Letters (Are you kidding? Recipients would faint.)

Write a Book (On the verge)

Big Foot Dor is in danger of appearing on one of those television hoarding shows. And Bill hasn’t seen the bill yet either!

 

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View from the MRI Waiting Room

View from the MRI Waiting Room

You will be happy to know the swollen-foot-MRI was a survivable experience with my head outside the tube, permission to move anything but the “bum foot,” and a set of headphones to muffle the rock, rattle and roll of the big magnet.

Listening to Frank Sinatra crooning didn’t put me to sleep but the MRI’s grinding sounds ebbed and Frank came in with “I love you” as part of a song I don’t remember.  Ahhhhhh.

And the more I listened, the easier went the MRI.  I figured each song was about 3 minutes long and they said the ordeal would only last a half hour.  I was counting down and even though the whole thing took closer to an hour, “I am woman. I am strong.”  I survived even though my hands and the good leg were involuntarily twitching toward the end.

Bill Waiting in the Waiting Room

Bill Waiting in the Waiting Room

That was yesterday, and the results were already in today!

Would you believe there is a relatively uncommon syndrome out there only recognized by an MRI machine?  Talk about modern technology!

The fact is, a machine can now diagnose you with something your doctor never heard of!  Really.

In fact, doctors do not routinely ask the MRI to even check for this syndrome, but the MRI checks it anyway.  And most doctors don’t know much about it.  In fact, it seems, nobody knows much about it.

So, sure enough, I have it – this very strange mystery malady.

My family doctor called today and

he said

the MRI said,

“You have Bone Marrow Edema.”

“O.K., What is THAT?” I asked.

“Good question,” he said,  “I don’t know.”  He is a very honest doctor.

The next step therefore is to visit either an orthopedics specialist or a podiatrist.

From my Google searches:  There is a possibility I could self-heal in six months to two years with the help of an immobilizing boot.

The other upside is I have already become a smooth go-cart driver in the big stores!  This is better known as advanced planning.

And today an oversized man-elf worker at Lowe’s followed me around, carried the big wireless hedge trimmer I got for Bill, waited until I checked out, and then put the thing in my car!   I was Queen for a DayMinute and hope to have other such charming experiences.

There must be other upsides to this sneaky BME syndrome.

I kinda wish I had opted for a Cat Scan though, instead.

 

 

 

 

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From magnetproject.wikispaces.com

From magnetproject.wikispaces.com

Magnets are fascinating!

I remember little girl games played for hours with a simple magnet purchased at the local five and dime.  My little brother and I would experiment to see what kinds of things it would suck up.  Would it magnetize pins through a piece of paper?  How many nails or paper clips could it hold at once?

And now magnets are everywhere.  There is one in my purse that snaps shut to hold a cell phone and a bunch of magnetic things on the refrigerator too.

And how about  jewelry like bracelets, necklaces with magnetic clasps, and even therapeutic magnetic jewelry to end depression and cure arthritis?

 I even have some magnetic earrings.

They hold together all the way through my delicate

(un-pierced) virgin ear lobes!

And Executive Toys are here to stay for grownups who have nothing productive to do at work.  I gave one of those games to my boss once and hinted for a raise.  I don’t think he got the hint though.

Executive Magnet Desk Toy from www.Amazon.com

Executive Magnet Desk Toy from http://www.Amazon.com

 

Magnets are still fascinating though, and guess what I am going to do on Thursday (for my mystery foot diagnosis)!

I am going to Roanoke, Virginia for an M R I !!!!!

MRI Machine from science.howstuffworks.com

MRI Machine from
science.howstuffworks.com

That stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging.

Ha!

All that modern technology stuff  has to be a hoax and an MRI is probably only a great big magnet!

This is worrisome because there are three metal plates and six metal pins in my right ankle from an old break.  Obviously, all that metal is major suck-up material for a big old magnet right?

It doesn’t matter they will be trying to get a view of the left foot and ankle (referred to as the “lower left extremities”).

And does anybody care that my whole body

(and all its extremities)

may be slurped up, into, or onto a giant magnet?

And  never to be pried loose again!

If I should survive, however, you may be sure there will be a progress report on what happens when an MRI Machine Meets a Magnetic Personality.

Stay tuned…..

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MotorCartI learned to drive a go-cart at a big Virginia grocery store this week!

What a joy to get off that bad foot!  What freedom in zipping around the canned goods and toilet paper aisles!

Retail Therapy took on a whole new meaning

from the seat of what seemed like a toy golf cart.

Fortunately no one was hurt, but people simply do not realize the danger from Un-mechanical Dor on a go-cart.

  • First, it is a bit difficult to steer and much too quick to stop, and to set it at a comfortable speed is an ongoing challenge.
  • Have you ever seen a new driver learning the stick shift?  Of course not.  You are too young and only know automatic transmissions.  But lurching is the trademark of most new drivers and I regret to say I am a true lurcher.
  • The great fun though (even with all the lurching), is in acquiring a whole new perspective of the human race from the nether regions of a grocery aisle!

 There it is – the ultimate learning experience –

a bottoms-up viewpoint of human nature!

  • First I noticed some folks are actually embarrassed and uncomfortable looking down upon a poor motorized invalid.  You can tell by the careful averting of eyes.
  • I kept wanting to say, “Hey, it’s me.  I’m just like you when I stand up. This is only temporary.  Really!”
  • And then I began to feel sorry for those who really are disabled.  I will certainly pay more attention to being kind to go-cart motorists now.  It is demeaning and lonely to be looked at as if you are invisible.
  • Some folks look right at you but register annoyance.  They will not budge from established positions, probably thinking, “You want in here?  You will have to wait. So you are too lazy to walk huh?”  These are Scrooge descendents!  They should all take a ride in a grocery store go-cart to be converted into nice people (like me).
  • Others looked down, focused eye to eye, smiled sympathetically, and graciously gave way.  Some even offered to help with the reaching. I secretly believe they are the true Earth Angels and I plan to become just like them when I’m on my feet again!

In the end, I am an untrained motor scooter-er and did not realize there is a final parking procedure.  Never receiving instructions I pulled straight in and limped out of the store.

But before that I watched a 98 year old fella (well, he looked 98 – he was driving a go-cart wasn’t he?)  backing his cart in with great skill.  Then he gave me the frowning evil eye.  I was feeling so innocent and unjustifiably maligned but the truth was:

I should have backed my cart up to a wall too.  Ha!  Lurching forward was hard enough.

And then I should have plugged the thing in for recharging.  Ha!  Not easy for the electronically handicapped you know.

Obviously, I haven’t made Earth Angel grade yet.

Keep watching though!

I am learning the hard way…from the bottom up.

 

 

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