lucky number 8.

as what i hope will be my last surgery looms nearer, i wonder how much more of my life will be spent with a cast on my arm. not even a pretty cast, but an ugly beige contraption with a cloth sleeve that has a thumbhole that always stretches waaaay out of proportion. grrr.

my back hurts. the muscles get really sore and i know it's from lack of use, titanium rods, scar tissue buildup, yada yada yada, but when will it stop? here i sit, all stooped and bent.

my foot has its days. today was a good one. yesterday was not. it makes me feel like a great-grandma hobbling down the street, or someone with a large shoe to compensate for a club foot. it's amazing how life blows by the disabled, whacking them in the shoulder with its oversized couture shoulder bag. busy bee commuters don't help either >:(

but, it does help me to remember to slow down. smell the roses. look up at the sky and see the harbor mist clouding the top of downtown- seagulls crying as they zoom and float overhead. i stop and notice how people treat one another. who politely waits their turn, who lets the heavy glass door shut in someone's face, who smiles and says "good morning" or "have a nice day"... not very many. they're so busy hustling and bustling. time IS money afterall.

i want to find a field or a meadow and lay out a big soft quilt for a picnic with yummy snacks. to fly kites, make grass bracelets and pick a wildflower bouquet... to play in the tall grass in a sundress and fly through the air on a tire swing.... to run down a wooden dock and jump into the refreshing lake, splashing and laughing.