I think I’ve turned a corner today with my ankle. For the first time in nearly three months I went for a short walk, maybe a mile, in the cemetery. It’s been a while since I’ve been there, too. I rode my bike over in the early evening—after the temps cooled down to the 80s. A few folks were visiting graves and changing out flowers. A couple of guys were leaning up against their car near a new grave and smoking cigarettes—a sibling, parent, friend? I always wonder about the lives now buried there, and the ones they left behind.
No pain in my ankle, unlike what I experienced on Saturday when I walked about a quarter mile. No BOOT today either. It feels like this whole summer has been lost to this injury, seeing as how I typically logged 3 to 5 miles of walking a day. Didn’t realize how much I missed it until tonight. But it becomes obvious that it’s missing when I step on the scales—at least 5 pounds gained.
Today is Cow Appreciation Day and National French Fry Day. If you ate fast food, you could celebrate both cows and fried potatoes. I don’t eat cows, usually, or drink moo juice, but I do appreciate them as fellow beings orbiting on this planet. There’s a farm park near us, which is one of my happy places; it has cows. It’s an easy 4-mile bike ride. Maybe I’ll put that on my list of places to go walking next, just try out this ankle so more. When I first moved to this area from Scotland, the farm park was my lifesaver. I missed our sort-of farm in Scotland, where we raised ducks, turkeys, geese, and chickens—plus sheep for a short while. This park has all of the above (save for geese), plus goats, horses, rabbits, and some nice walking trails. I went there three times a day when I first moved to this area just so’s I could talk to the chickens. Plus Hubby was still back in the Mother Land, so I was lonely.
Hubby and I will both be glad when we can walk normally again, without pain or fear of tripping.