Storm Trooper Boot

Storm Trooper boot

♫ ♪ Da da da dee dee dum dee dee dum ♫ Dee dee dee dee dee dum dee dee dum ♪♫
Sing along while wearing your favorite Star Wars regalia!!

I kinda wonder where my blaster went...

This phase of the recovery involves this boot which has an air pocket on each side that can be pumped up a bit to provide comfort.

It is just another part of the overall recovery. I still can't do any weight bearing on this foot/ankle. Three more weeks before I even get to start PT, but the good news is, I can now give the stinky storm trooper foot a bath and shave my leg which is not ready for primetime.

In deference to the Star Wars attire I will be wearing ad nauseum, Thomas gently says since I am a storm trooper, my Death Star is my 17-year old ancient van... Lovely. NOT. Then, he comfortingly he says "Let's just hope no one shoots anything up the tail pipe..."

HEY!! I remember that scene and it didn't work out too well for the Storm Troopers and their boots!!!

I love you, too. PIGLET!

Kindly, Thomas offers to defend me in his Tie-fighter, but then I reminded him that the Tie-fighters didn't DEFEND the Death Star at all... not one tiny shot.

I am not comforted by his evil laughter and begin to wonder if HE isn't Darth Vader after all... remember, he did use the force to choke that one dude on the Death Star who was less than cooperative to Vader's plans.

My only question now is, if Thomas is a plant for the Empire, why does he help me at all? Then I realize that he is like the characters in his video games who can't quite decide whether they are good or bad yet. The color of their light sabers is kind of unsettled... like their choices.

So is Thomas a member of the 'rebel scum' and just yanking my chain about my temporary storm trooper status - like Luke appeared while rescuing Leia - or is he a mole from the Empire seeking to use the 4th of July fireworks to blow my van to kingdom come??

Hmmm. That MIGHT be kind of fun.

Wouldn't have anything to ride around Jared in, but man alive, that would be flippin' awesome to see the van go BOOOOOOO!!!

Yeah, I know.

Control yourself.

Whatever.

But should you happen to be looking out into the the northern skies near Thatch and Clem Roads and see a van fly through the skies, I promise it was an accident.

That's what I plan to tell the insurance company and I expect you ALL to back me up.

We now resume our theme music...
♫ ♪ Da da da dee dee dum dee dee dum ♫ Dee dee dee dee dee dum dee dee dum ♪♫ Da dee dee da dee dee da deedle dee dee dum dee dee dum dee dee dum dee dee deeeeeeeeeee ♫♪♫

Into Each Life A Little Rain Must Fall

Into each life a little rain must fall, or so the saying goes.

While there are many people who need the water for crops and livestock, I cannot help but feel a pang of sorrow in my heart for all of those people who two scant months ago watched all they had worked for blow and scatter to the whims of the tornadic winds.

How must they who have lost so very much feel as the relentless storms continue to soak whatever they might have left of the pieces of the lives that once were?

Yet the flip side of the coin is in behalf of those farmers and ranchers who put the literal food on the table for us all. When they suffer drought, we ALL suffer drought and we pay the price for foods brought from far away or in the hunger that might occur when you simply have to just say no to the prices.

The ditch in the front yard is fairly full and could offer a kayaker a pretty turbulent ride as the water races through on its downhill journey to flood the yard of the nice people down the street from us. They get flooded at almost every rainstorm.

When I was little, the summer rains seemed to be warm and inviting. Today's storms are dark, harsh and threatening. Is the difference simply age and perception, or has the natural world begun to turn away from us who care so little for one another and so very much for self alone?

I have no answers today, just lots of questions and concerns for those of my loved ones and friends scattered around through the rains.

The laundry whirls, the dryer hums and the rains pour.

Into each life...

Believer or Bigot?

Over the last while, I have truly been contemplating a very serious and heartfelt question: Is it bigoted to be a believer in God and to state emphatically that there are moral rights and moral wrongs? Further, is it bigoted to say that through the beliefs and teachings to which I submit myself willingly that there are some activities that are beyond the pale and to which I should not partake?

Is it bigoted to say that sin is sin even when it afflicts the comfortable spirit of mankind striving to separate themselves from God because they are disquieted by the distance their actions create between their soul and the Holy Spirit?

I DO believe that some things are sins. I also believe deeply in the process of repentance for those sins. Be they 'great' or 'small' in our mortal and flawed comprehension, God sees no stripe of sin that is not due the cleansing process of the Atoning blood of our Sinless Savior.

Jesus Christ didn't willingly die on the cross for us to have us just say "no, thanks, Lord, but I don't NEED you",  although, He KNEW that there would be some of us who would do just that. We do have agency to make moral choices and stand accountable for those decisions whether that accountability leads to reward or damnation.

Those who reject the opportunity to take our burdens and place them at the feet of the Savior and be cleansed are truly rejecting our only true foundation. Almost as if in our venal and rebellious hearts, we think that if we jam our thumb into His all seeing eye, we can remove the penalty for our selfish and prideful actions and blind Him to the reality of our sins. When we continue on doing what feels good to us personally without regard for Him who made us and for Him who has bought us with so very grave a price - His own blood - we remove our own opportunity for exaltation and a chance to return to His presence whole, clean and welcomed.

Being a believer in God and Jesus Christ, and unfortunately being well acquainted with the failings of mortality and the sins that are part of not only the learning curve, I am thankful that there ARE absolutes.

When we open ourselves up to the vain and foolish belief that 'everything' is acceptable in life and to God, we are in error and on the path to sin. That others consider this view bigoted and narrow is ALSO a form of sin. It's called PRIDE.

When people throw themselves wholeheartedly into what is a 'feel good' moment for them alone, they forget that there are other people, other needs, other wants and other desires beyond their own, and that leads to selfishness and both are a form of dishonesty before God.

The world would have us believe that those who are followers of God and Christ are delusional and backwards. They would have us believe that 'enlightened' people have no need of a god nor of the moral absolutes that my Judeo-Christian upbringing has offered to us. Though there are other religious belief systems that share elements of what I know to be true, that they lack Christ in their beliefs to me means that they are not totally in tune. And for some people, that statement makes me a bigot because I believe that Christ IS the Way, the Truth and the Life.

But the world is wrong.

Believing in God doesn't make me backward, unenlightened or ignorant. Nor does that belief make me a bigot. It is a privilege to believe in God and to serve Him. I feel honored to enter His holy house at every opportunity and to feel immersed in His healing Spirit and in the Balm of Gilead that binds up the wounds of life that have been inflicted from without and from within.

I KNOW that God lives because I have felt His presence moving and working in and through my life. I feel that presence as a vital, living force that acts as an anchor to my soul. That doesn't make me delusional. It makes me thankful and makes me feel grounded.

I truly feel sorry for people who elect to use their moral agency to distance themselves from God as if they don't need Him at all.

The understanding of our need doesn't make us less... through God we can be oh so infinitely more.

I'm not a bigot.

I AM a believer.

And for that, I am truly thankful.

Grab bars and butt width

The continuing adventure of bathroom safety while partially incapacitated keeps our family occupied in more ways than one.

Since crutches are helpful only to a point, there are some things that are, of necessity, required to ensure both safety and the ability to remain upright in areas that are prone to being damp or downright soggy. Turning the crutches into a teepee shape to push up from various surfaces such as the bed or a chair works pretty soundly most of the time, other times, grab bars would be a big plus since flooring surfaces vary and slickness of same becomes an issue.

Nothing like trying to keep upright while on one foot (barely) and trying to keep the ever sliding crutches from getting away from you or from jamming your armpits into your ears.

Trust me, it's funny... or not.

So, to ensure that another hospital trip isn't in my immediate future, grab bars have been installed in the master bathroom and will be installed in Jared's bathroom both in the barrier-free shower stall and in the commode area for easy grasp and purchase of a secure footing through sound hand holds. That's the idea anyway.

So while the two eldest menfolks of the household were apparently having cart races in Lowe's while looking at all the "man candy" in the various aisles of the store (I say this because Rick called me and was out of breath - the man only gets that way when looking at hardware and tools...), they were discussing the relative merits of various types of appliances and grips that could aid me in my pitiful and semi tragical circumstances.

Thomas called me to ask about the photo sent to me... I can only imagine who received that photo since it NEVER came to my cell phone. It was of a toilet surround that had hand holds for lowering and elevating one to the throne.

Yeah... whomever got that picture is gonna be offended or curious as to why they are being sent the photo. Is this some kind of hint that they are "old" or is it a veiled threat of what damage is heading their way? I snicker because that's the kind of evil mind I have.

But, and that is a big BUTT... the phone call to me was asking not so gently just how wide my butt is and would it fit.

I didn't know whether to laugh or be offended.

It isn't part of a normal woman's life to share her "numbers" in that way to begin with and no one wants to consider measuring the width of their buttocks as a measure of just how worthy any particular household help would be. That just ain't cool.

I insisted they just get the wall mounted grab bars.

I do have my pride.

Plus, I don't even want to know the dreaded 'butt width' number. I'm afraid I'd have a heart attack and die. Which would leave them with kinda of an odd "Weekend With Bernie" moment... do they take me along or leave me at home with another squirt of Fe-breeze for good measure? EIther way, the air freshener will be a requirement, but perhaps they don't feel like answering questions about why I am still wearing the same clothes for an entire month or have the same strange expression on my face and what is that god-awful smell that is a mixture of Fe-breeze, moth balls and that cheap cologne I bought on impulse from the sale rack at the dollar store?

Fortunately, I'll be dead and won't be able to help them stammer their way through that particular mess. And when I'm dead they can measure me for butt width all the want to. I imagine it would shrink over time as I dessicated into a shriveled raisin. At least I could eventually be buried in a smaller dress size.

But I digress...

Back to the bathroom grab bars.

Aren't we all glad that I have pretty awesome 'guns' and can heave a bull elephant out the bathroom window with them? Truth is, I may look a little flabby in the bod, but beneath the flab is some serious muscle. Don't be jealous. You only get this kind of muscle the hard way. Lifting Jared, lifting me, lifting elephants...

I do actually lift weights. It's the only way I keep up. It's also the only way I have a bust line. But again, I digress...

The grab bars are being installed today, I am assured.

The only thing that concerns me is the fact that they are, at my tender age, required at all. Aren't grab bars and toilet lifts for the elderly and disabled? And I hate the fact that either description might apply. I want to see myself as that young gal who enjoyed the freedom to go and do without the constraints of crutches, casts, wheelchairs and grab bars.

That kind of sucks lemons...

I console myself with the thought that perhaps this experience is helping me to better understand the plight of those for whom this condition isn't temporary and is bringing me a heightened sensitivity to the needs of those who struggle every day for the rest of their mortal lives just to get out of bed.

Truly, it is a cautionary tale.

But I am relying on the promise of the Word of Wisdom and praying that one day not too far down the road of life that I can "run and not be weary, and walk and not faint". I only hope I am deserving of that blessing. Plus, it would really be a good thing because, oddly enough, people DO depend upon me. Strange, but true.

Oh well... better sign off on this since it is nearly time to take a hike into the bathroom and I dare not wait until I HAVE to go... otherwise there may be a greater than 90% chance of dampness and mopping in a most unpleasant fashion.

God bless grab bars... they certainly do come in handy.