I spent nearly all of yesterday on my feet – walking Alex to school, picking him up after (with Julia in tow), and then reorganizing and cleaning my kitchen (to make room for the newest KitchenAid member of the family – see yesterday's post), and then making pizza dough and sauce and prepping toppings to make pizzas for dinner. 10 pizzas. Well, okay, Alex and Julia each made their own pizza, so really I only created 8 of them. I took the last two pizzas out of the oven just before nine.
Today, my left ankle has siezed up and I can't walk. I can, however, hobble. And I've perfected this one-legged sideways heel-toe-heel-toe zig-zag maneuver that is actually faster than trying to put weight on my foot and FEELING LOTS OF PAIN and pausing to do a sort of speeded-up "heh heh heh" Lamaze breathing thing while I wait for the pain to subside, and then repeating the process all over again as I make my way from one room to the next.
I actually scooted down the stairs on my butt this morning. And in the process, I discovered a great multi-tasking workout for arms and leg (eventually legs, but not today) as I support my own body weight and kind of crab-walk down the stairs. Really works the triceps!
It's a circus around here today. Or at least it's my very own freak show.
And you'd think I'd be so grateful to have an excuse to just SIT and type or read or watch cooking shows, or whatever, but actually I'm having a hard time with it. Because I SHOULD sit, I don't WANT to.
I'm back. Never missed me, did you? I actually went upstairs to look in the deep, dark recesses of my closet to find a couple of old purses/handbags/pocketbooks/whatever you want to call them – for Julia to use.
Right now she's got one that I received at my bridal shower – it's kind of formal, and it's something you have to carry in your hand or maybe looped over your wrist, as opposed to something you can sling over your shoulder and have your hands free. I'm all for having as many hands free as possible as I go about my day. So I gave that one to Julia (the strap is too short for me but just about right for Julia, who is considerably shorter, and also hasn't developed a preference for bag styles yet) and another one that I think my sister gave me or I bought because it reminded me of my sister – it's just a simple fabric envelope-like bag on a long thin fabric strap, and the bag itself is embroidered in this cool, offbeat pattern. It's really nice – actually, and I'm thinking that since my current little bag thing is going to fall apart soon, maybe I should get this other one away from Julia now, before she does something to it.
She actually went for the larger, shorter-strapped bag first. She looped it over her head and one arm, like she sees me do, and struck a mature-woman pose (in her Disney princess underwear – I think she's featuring Jasmine today) and said "Don't I look like a grown up girl who's going shopping?" I told her yes and suggested she go show this look to Daddy, because he'd be so proud.
I like to mess with him.
She came back a bit later and removed that purse and went for the other one. Too formal for everyday wear, I expect.
And then she came over to the couch to tell me – in her best motherly tone – that she was going shopping, and not to worry about "that big boy" in the kitchen, because "he's all growned up." And then she tilted her head and gave me a June Cleaver smile and said "Just like you are, dear."
And off she went.
You might be wondering why just doing stuff on my feet all day would affect my ankle so badly. I don't know. I think I have a habit of standing with all my weight on my left foot at times, and I just don't realize it as I'm doing it. But also, it's most likely due to a lack of good arch support, plain and simple. Much as I rebel against it, I really should wear my sneakers when I'm on my feet a long time. Problem is, I don't WANT to. I'm much happier (at least initially) going barefoot (hence the name of this website) and wearing shoes when I'm not even going to the store or a restaurant or something is just…it's hard for me.
And yes, I realize how trivial this is. I'm feeling trivial at the moment. If you want substance today, look elsewhere.
While I was polishing up all my beloved KitchenAid workhorses yesterday
(and here they are, all lined up nice and pretty)
the kittens were doing this:
(Yes, that's Softie in mid-leap.)
Oh, how they loved that loud crinkly brown packing paper. They played with it – in it, on it, under it, around it, between it – for hours. It gradually got pushed and pulled down the little hall and into the music room – one long sheet of brown paper stretching from here to there. I redirected the paper into the living room, just because the music room actually has important valuable music stuff and if it done got broke, Bill would be cooking the kittens in the deep fryer. NOT REALLY! We don't have a deep fryer.
Anyway, by the time Bill got home, the paper was all in the living room and heading for the stairs. He had a student coming over, so he put an end to the fun, but the kittens were deep in slumber by that point anyway.
For some unfathomable cat reason, Softie and Scratchy love Bill's footwear. Shoes, sneakers, sandals, and – as you can tell – slippers.
Five minutes after I shot this, Softie was sleeping.
Okay, I think that's enough to bore you with for now. Time to do my one-legged softshoe routine into the kitchen and get some lunch.