Okey-dokey, so it will soon technically be spring

Oh, let’s say it at the end of May when I found out my blood sugar was considered high and in June when I leaned a lobe of my parathyroid gland was going crazy. I was so totally bummed that I cried, mainly because I felt bad about the sugar thing and my lifestyle. So I started keeping my eating mouth closed, saving my razor sharp tongue for words and not chips and cookies and, oh, lots of food things. After about six weeks, I started walking . . . in one of the hottest summers we’ve had for awhile. And I lost weight.

The days got short and cold and with family issues I was unable to make it to the Y to compensate for my early morning or late, late evening trudges. But, now, those days are getting longer and warmer – although it’s been kind of raw lately – and I need to quit “holding my own” and start “losing some more of my own”. How much “own” I should lose is an undetermined number at this time. I guess I need to lose everything that jiggles and ripples.

That’s a place to start. I’ve got my new shoes and heel cushions. Maybe I ought to add a couple of basic yoga exercises; maybe I should keep a daily record of how close I can get my foot to my nose? No, I think I need to give this more thought.

UPDATE: I’ve given this post more thought – but not about getting a spring in my step because spring is nigh. Sigh. I just looked at the weather site and the first headline I saw was about winter not fading away. This week we are going to have a high of 30 on one day with the low down to 20 degrees. I may declare this the “week of fires” and get some exercise toting firewood . . . and doing yoga toe movements by the hearth. Hey, there could be such exercises.

I have it in my head to do something today. But what? I went to Sears and got HEPA vacuum bags and could go around sucking the heck out of the carpets, maybe even get down on my hands and knees and suck stuff from beneath the refrigerator. Or I could not do that. Tsk. A difficult decision. I could read the instructions to the band sander or the electric chainsaw. Yeah, a little floor sanding, some wood filler, replacement tile and voila. I don’t think my 3 pm enthusiasm would last long enough. Sort of a flimsy excuse, but it’s the best I can do on short notice. I don’t suppose I should read the chainsaw instructions because my enthusiasm might not wane. I’ll bet I’ve got 300+ feet of electric cord – that could give me quite a cutting radius. Question is: Do I love the smell of sawdust in the late afternoon? Do I want to vacuum up that sawdust through my HEPA filters?

Actually, I think I’ll get cleaned up and go to the nursing home, sit with Kathryn and Dorothy and Marilyn in the dining room and then go prop my feet up on Kathryn’s bed and read while she rests. I could take a peek in her candy box and practice self-control in relation to my first paragraphs’ expression of intent.

It occurs to me that I have been having this back and forth could do this, could do that monologue in a few frequent post – almost like there are tasks out there hanging over my head that in all truth I don’t want to do. Gee, could that be possible?