What I Did On My Summer Vacation

or.....I CAN DO THAT 


Today being the last day I can complain about this to anyone, I decided to take the opportunity to examine some of the lessons I've learned and things I've accomplished in the last ten days (I know -- you're thinking, "Has it only been 10?  Seems like she's been complaining forever!"  You are right, and I apologize, but will proceed anyway.)

First, for a little perspective, 
here's the size of the handicap I've been working with:

It looks, and feels, like a drumstick from an enormous chicken-gone-wrong, after he already tried to cross the road and was hit by a truck but lived to tell the tale.  For the record, both the chicken and I are wondering why we did it to begin with...

The weight of the darn thing requires me to keep it in a sling, which I must also sleep in.  (I plan to have a sling-burning party as soon as I can, and all are invited!  Bring marshmallows.)

Anyway, my first big victory was:

Learning to put on my own bra. 

This was dance-inducing, actually.  It was the last straw the day I had to interrupt my husband's important business call so he could help me, and I decided to declare independence. I have never looked back.

Besides not being able to do annoyingly simple tasks for myself, my second biggest frustration has been BOREDOM.  Although some days it is wonderful to have nothing to do, when that condition is thrust upon you it becomes more burden than reward rather quickly.  Not being able to vacuum has been a plight I can endure, but not being able to make anything has been harder.

When a man does not write his poetry, 
it escapes by other vents through him.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

When my hands became idled,  the word faucet came on almost immediately, and I have spent a good deal of time hunt-and-pecking my way through poetry, as well as one short essay.  After I finished the essay (and was dismayed to notice that the only reason it looked like a full page was because I had it on 16 font), I wondered what else I could do...so I took an extra pain pill for courage and fired it off to the Minneapolis Star Tribune.  Then I immediately smacked myself in the head with my good hand and said, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING??  And I just endeavored to put the embarrassing lapse in judgment out of my mind.  Which I did.

Imagine my surprise  when I opened my email the next day to find a lovely letter from a man who had seen my piece in the paper (gasp!) and been moved by it enough to spend the morning tracking me down (gasp again!) Needless to say, at that point we brought in the paper....and since I hadn't mentioned my temporary insanity of the day before to anyone, it was a pleasant surprise all around.

click image to enlarge

Last but not least, Sunday brought this quest:

Could I use the bananas I had watched 
rotting all week to bake something?

It seemed unlikely, even for an accomplished one-handed-bra-hooker, but I carefully thought through each step of the process and then determined I'd try . . .

Sweet Success!

So I suppose the entire week wasn't wasted after all,  although my hand writing, eating prowess and tooth brushing coordination have not improved a bit.

If you'd like to test yourself, try flossing your teeth with one hand...I'd need another 10 days or so to master that, and I just don't think I want it on my resume badly enough.

Anyway, thanks for the company during 
my period of confinement.
 You're a true friend . . .

May I offer you a slice of my bread?

And Happy last-day-Monday!



Michele said...

It appears that you developed many new skills in spite of that busted wing. Flossing would be hard but I bet you would have figured it out.

Lynda Halliger-Otvos said...

Lovely bread.

luanne said...

Your published piece is lovely -- I'm glad you found that extra dose of courage! Good for you & for the fan who brought it to your attention... but surely you'd have looked for it anyway.

I'd have used the arm excuse to skip wearing the bra, but props to you for mastering that one-handed!

Hope you'll be drumstick-free & able to get back to your stitching soon.

Leenie said...

Well, if you can't make a living as a one-handed bra hooker you might as well get your essay published. ;0)

After spending some time recently in the presence of an amazing eleven-year-old girl I think you have the mind set down--as well as a vision of summer just as it should be. Well done.

Congrats on surviving the big-white chicken-leg handicap. May you continue to heal quickly.

Judy said...

I think you are amazing! Love the essay, especially that last image of being "carried along on wind of her own making." Nice.

Allie said...

Well you've sure been doing more than whining, lol - love that article in the paper, how beautiful! The bra thing totally cracked me up, I think I'd go without. Just have to be careful where I step. The bread looks wonderful and I would love a slice! I hope you're having a freedom party...

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