Front steps... How I loathe thee!
The joys of what happened to me earlier this year continue.
I have two small steps at the front of my house and every day I have no idea if I will navigate them successfully or not.
Sometimes hilarity ensues and I end up teetering, waving my arms about as I almost topple into the unsuspecting, but clearly cowering, gardenia.
Sometimes I take them quick, looking something like a wooden boy with his leg joints all out of whack.
Most of the time I regret never training the cat to retrieve the mail and the dogs to drive my girls to school.
This is just two steps people! Two small, not high at all, steps!!
There are six steps to the backyard. I take a packed lunch, some flares and a rubber dinghy with me when I have to navigate those.
Next week I have a 'walking test' at the docs. I have to walk 50 metres within a certain time frame without looking like the Lord of the Dance on crack.
Right now I've got about 20 metres down before it all goes haywire.
They want to issue me with a cane you see, and I've been fighting it, knowing that the urge to clock someone and having the tool to do so might well be a bad thing in my hands.
Plus I know I'd have to train the dogs not to snatch it away from me, thinking it was a fetch toy and I'd rather spend that time training them to drive the kids to school.
I have two small steps at the front of my house and every day I have no idea if I will navigate them successfully or not.
Sometimes hilarity ensues and I end up teetering, waving my arms about as I almost topple into the unsuspecting, but clearly cowering, gardenia.
Sometimes I take them quick, looking something like a wooden boy with his leg joints all out of whack.
Most of the time I regret never training the cat to retrieve the mail and the dogs to drive my girls to school.
This is just two steps people! Two small, not high at all, steps!!
There are six steps to the backyard. I take a packed lunch, some flares and a rubber dinghy with me when I have to navigate those.
Next week I have a 'walking test' at the docs. I have to walk 50 metres within a certain time frame without looking like the Lord of the Dance on crack.
Right now I've got about 20 metres down before it all goes haywire.
They want to issue me with a cane you see, and I've been fighting it, knowing that the urge to clock someone and having the tool to do so might well be a bad thing in my hands.
Plus I know I'd have to train the dogs not to snatch it away from me, thinking it was a fetch toy and I'd rather spend that time training them to drive the kids to school.
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