Contact with an Extraterriestrial

Transcript from a conversation I had while washing my hands in the bathroom (my thoughts in italics).

ET-I noticed you were using a cane so I asked HR about you. I hear you are having surgery, I hope everything goes ok

Me Oh, thank you (why didn't you just ask me)

I try to walk out the door-ahh, I'm too slow

ET I just want you to know people like you make me realize how lucky I am.

Me Huh?

ET You know, people with canes and disabilities, I had a real bad drive in to work today, and then I saw you and realized I don't have it so bad after all.

Me Oh (Ok, I know she means well so I will just react to her intent and not what she's saying and get out of here) Well, we do take things for granted

ET Yes we do, and because of you limping around with that cane, I will have a better drive in from now on. Thank you.

Me Oh no, thank YOU. Have a great day, gotta run to lunch now.......

(Oh god, is she going to hug me? You know, giving her a better drive in to work makes all this pain and limping and stuff so much more meaningful. I was quite silly to keep my foot problems to myself when so many deserving people could have benefited by my sharing with them that I am in excruciating pain much of the time, my leg is withered and atrophied and I can't walk straight on one foot. It will make THEIR day better if they only knew.)

But, after chuckling about it, I got to thinking-this person is also skinny. So would it have been rude to ask "Well, when you saw me WITHOUT the cane, weren't you grateful you didn't have a big old fat ass?"

Raising Cane

Well, I used the cane for a day. Then I pulled my back out dragging in a freezer for the unspeakable things I feed my snakes-and the cane seemed like a bad idea. Now that I can no longer take aspirin or ibuprofen in preparation for my upcoming surgery, the cane seems like a better idea. Isn't it amazing how ones perception shifts depending on the circumstances?

I haven't given it a lot of thought, and perhaps I should have, but I really can't see a lot of Scotty related activity being harmful to my gimpy leg. It's not like I'm going to hitch myself to the trailer and walk down the street with it. Of course, I thought the same thing about dog agility and look at how I'm limping now.....ah well.

I'm over the red rubber floor too. Wheeling the actual vehicle into the driveway made me realize that color with that much punch in that little space would be less than soothing. But it was fun to think about for awhile. I'm also over the built in kennels (ala the chicken coop trailer).

But I am thinking about the poop shute. Something like one of those wire things that people let their cats walk outside in. The other alternative would be to simply get up and walk the dogs in the morning, but that would NEVER do. I could just slide them out the poop shoot, let them relieve themselves...Of course then I would have to get back up to let them back in the trailer. And, they would take issue with pooping right next to the "house", being civilized creatures they prefer going off a distance.

I guess we'll just do what we do now-when I need to go, we all get up, walk to the loo (or the backyard if you are a dog) and go. We do things in committee a lot at my house.

ANOTHER One

Ok, I got an e-mail from someone in Canada who has a mint, I mean garage kept, condition 1972 Scotty. And I want it. But that is contrary to my less is more stance.

Somehow I think that is the crux of my problem-wanting the mint condition vehicle right off the bat rather than appreciating the old crusader. I know that's the case with me and dieting. Dieting is kind of weird if you stop and think about it-because it is never enough. Oprah in her size 10 jeans, that made such a splash a few years ago, would be a before picture by today's standards. (Happy Birthday Oprah)

I am going to mangle a line from AB Fab-Edina (discussing skinny celebs) "there must be a time, about two weeks after death, when they finally achieve the figure they desire. Nothing but bones and bumps."

I've been reading/watching the YOU series and I am hooked, hook line and sinker. One, I like measuring my waist, noting that it is smaller but not really knowing how to line that progress up on a chart. So, my brain grabs the one thing it can comprehend, the waist is smaller, and it goes happily about its day. Two, I really like the autospies where they show you a healthy dead heart vs. a sick dead heart. Awesome stuff. www.realage.com Dr. Oz rocks.

So, I am grappling with the progress towards the new, healthier body type concept, but like the trailer, I really want the new shiny one that's all there, right NOW. And the truth is, if I could just go right out and BUY a new healthy body, I would, so why not get the new/old shiny trailer?

Well, err, I think it's because I am also supposed to be learning to love and nurture the old beat up body and the old beat up trailer. Hmmm, did the DEVIL send the trailer to tempt me, or was it a lesson from GOD? And what is the difference? That's a lot of heavy stuff from one e-mail from a stranger.

STOP

I'd like to curl up and sleep for a year.

What some people do with trailers 2

This is the inside of the trailer-it's a mobile chicken coop.

What some people do with trailers

This is an old trailer

Isn't this about a Serro Scotty?

Well, yes, it is. But the Scotty is also a metaphor for many things, my life journey, returning to my roots, simplicity and just perhaps boredom and utter contempt for my self indulgent middle class lifestyle.

There it sits in the driveway, a symbol of "this is where I started my adult life" and here I sit in my living room actually living my current life.

I'm really good at starting things and sort of so so on finishing them. But progress is key. Today I bought a lock for the Scotty so that vagabonds cannot take residence. I have contemplated crocheting curtains (yes, I really can crochet) but am conflicted with the hair attraction properties of crochet items. I myself am not excessively hairy, but my dogs are quite hairy, being your typical furry dog and not a Chinese crested or subject to hypothyroidism resulting in alopecia like my mother's chihuahua, the late and much beloved, Millie.

Being able to take ALL the dogs with me was one of the appeals of the Scotty.

I had a visit with my orthopedic surgeon today and he suggested that my cane might work better if I take it out of the box and use it. So, Scotty dreams have been interrupted by my own looming physical decrepit-sy (I think I just invented a word) and my own self conscious desire to appear "normal". If I don't carry that cane, maybe no one will notice I am having trouble walking. But I want to do things differently-last time I walked and walked on my poor old foot until it was so swollen and the cartilage so bad that the doctor had trouble performing the surgery. So, on Thursday I will set forth with my cane AND I will use my cane every day until I have surgery. Hopefully there will be some foot left to operate on.

Now, I DO have a kick ass cane. It is a red birch wooden thing that is truly lovely-I just happen to not want to walk with a cane. Of course, if I refuse to use the cane I could end up not walking at all. Oi-the decisions we are faced with.

WWSD? What Would Scotty Do? Probably carve a cane out of a handy tree limb and walk through the woods with a feather in his cap. Actually, I bought a really cool walking stick in California but I gave it to my father who does not use it. See, it runs in he family.

So, the red cane is sitting in the corner and quite green with cammo curtains Scotty is sitting in the driveway and I have to fix my leg before I can take off in the Scotty (my self imposed rule). So, I will use the cane and maybe I'll get lucky and someone will really piss me off and I'll get to brandish it.

I really think I just need to go to bed now.