Yep. This is my new ride. A visit with an orthopedic physician early this morning (I do think 8:00 AM is early) resulted in owning a new foot appliance.
The doctor actually sneered at my little “post op shoe”, declaring it wouldn’t do any good. A tendon in my leg had broken a bone in my foot as it rushed to protect my ankle. The tendon needed to be stabilized all the way up to my knee.
Thank you, leg tendon. I’m relieved my ankle is operating just fine.
This fancy schmancy boot will be with me for the next four weeks. The doctor said wearing it would stop the pain.
I beg to differ.
My tendon is screaming its objection to being encased in this plastic and velcro contraption. I hope we both will get used to it.
Okay. End of medical report. Here’s a sunset from last week.
Not exactly life in the fast lane, thank goodness.
This shoe feels so good. I’d never heard of a “post-op shoe” before, but as of yesterday I own one. Remember how I twisted my foot while helping Banjo Man and the Duck Lady capture Dorothy in her pen?
It was raining. The rocks were slippery. Not the best combination. My walking stick saved me from falling.
Two weeks and two Ace bandages later I drove to town to Urgent Care. I’d finally–FINALLY!!!–decided I needed x-rays. Here’s the chart on the waiting room wall.
Hmm…
Did a duck rescue injury count fall into the “Animal Bites & Injuries” category? Or “Hullabaloo & Shenanigans”?
Dorothy sure caused a number of shenanigans.
The lovely nurse practitioner read the x-rays and said she didn’t see any fractures, but it was unusual for a sprain to last this long. Several hours later she called me and said the radiologist had seen a fracture. I needed to see the local orthopedic/sports doctor asap.
And I needed to return to Urgent Care Sunday morning to get a special shoe. Which I did.
I love this shoe. It’s made me much more cheerful and comfortable.
I never dreamed that a twisted foot, a minor sprain, would be such an annoying thing to deal with this past week.
I will spare you the details, but I have needed to stay off my foot as much as possible, wrap it in ice packs and take Tylenol. But I still needed something to do. I like projects!
This is a very small sampling of scraps I have collected over the years. After each quilt creation I cut the remaining ends of fabric into strips and toss them into a bin. Fabric is too expensive to waste and scraps can come in handy. My daughter mailed several boxes (yes, boxes!) of these strips to the lake last year.
Having these strips meant I didn’t have to stand at a table to cut fabric. Lowering the ironing board meant I didn’t have to stand to iron seams and blocks.
In other words, I could put my foot up on a chair and still DO SOMETHING.
Yes, I have plenty of books on my Kindle reader, but lately reading makes me sleepy. And I can’t sit around napping all day long. No, no, no!
I can practice my guitar chords, which I do, until my fingers give out. I can search Pinterest for blueberry cake recipes. And write emails.
But…sewing random strips diagonally across newsprint squares certainly makes me feel better than anything else.
I spent part of an afternoon sitting on the floor separating strips into colors, so future stars could be blue or green or yellow…
I love this card, given to me after my good news (lowering tumor markers) from a recent blood test.
Two special “rocks” were included in the gift. Healing rocks. And I do so love rocks! I will hold them close, as I do a special, very old arrowhead. My talismans.
They will accompany me to my future scans.
The phrase at the bottom of the card always makes me smile. Isn’t it great?
The weather here is gorgeous. Every day is beautiful. The smoke is no longer blowing across the lake and the sun is shining.
My Texas family members are back in the classrooms–and the library–now. Yes, they start early but they’re finished by Memorial Day weekend.
When I was a mom with kids of all ages at home all summer long, the first day of school was my favorite day of the year after Christmas and Thanksgiving (which required cooking).
The first day of school only required a loud sigh of relief and celebratory coffee with my buddy Harley Chick.
We discovered this little gem last week and we were so glad we did! We had to rent it, as it’s not available on our streaming subscriptions yet, but it was worth it.
The story–an eccentric man hires his favorite band to come to his remote island to reunite his favorite folk duo–is a sweet one. One critic described the movie’s theme as “learning to let go”.
I don’t want to say anything else for fear of spoiling the story for you, but if you like quiet little movies with endearing characters, this one is for you.
I love sweet corn even more than I love pie. Maybe I should rename the blog.
What you see in this photo is the best corn in the world, grown by Dancing Mandolin Player and her Boyfriend Bob. Decades ago, when we were all young and frisky, DMP and Bob would throw massive “corn parties”. Everyone brought food, but the highlight was the freshly picked corn from the garden.
My personal record is six ears of corn. Believe it or not, this is true.
Those days are long gone, as is most of our energy. But Friday night I devoured four ears. I didn’t want to be piggy.
Boyfriend Bob and Banjo Man hard at work.
I’ve been buying sweet corn this month at Walmart, The Peach Man and Yokes (a northwest grocery chain). None of their corn measured up to what is grown here across the bay. Some of it wasn’t really all that edible and ended up with Dorothy, who wasn’t remotely as fussy about corn as I am.
I will stop buying corn now. I’ve had the best and nothing else will compare. I will wait patiently (sort of) until next summer.
And here’s a little corn music on this summer Monday morning:
The last nine days of our ongoing duck rescue attempts have finally resulted in Dorothy the Duck finding a new home.
It wasn’t easy.
After approximately sixty-seven texts, the lovely Duck Lady arrived Thursday morning with a portable “fence”. The plan was to set it up and tempt her inside with her favorite food. She would have a couple of days of going in and out of the pen before we would capture her.
Look closely and you will see the pen. Dorothy was definitely suspicious the first time, but once Banjo Man sprinkled a handful of canned corn inside she waddled right in for a tasty meal.
The second part of the plan was to lure her inside Saturday morning, the day that she was going to be rehomed. Sure enough, Banjo Man sprinkled the corn in the middle of the pen and, once our duck had waddled toward the corn, he shut the gate.
I was standing by, hiding in the house so she wouldn’t see me. Two people feeding her makes her skittish and we couldn’t risk her scurrying down the hill to the beach. Once she was trapped I came down to help, but I slipped on wet rocks (it was raining) and fell down to my knees under the deck. My pride and my right foot were injured, but I was in Duck Rescue Mode and kept heading to the pen. Thank goodness I had my trusty driftwood walking stick with me!
Dorothy went crazy for a few minutes and we were afraid she would try to fly out. I grabbed one of my Amazon wildlife nets and waved it around.
Right at that moment the sweet Duck Lady arrived. She’d brought a duck to lure lonely Dorothy into a crate, but she’d left the duck and the crate in her car for now.
“I can pick her up,” she announced after surveying the situation. Dorothy was pacing and quacking nervously. This wasn’t the way she wanted to spend her morning.
Pick her up? Huh?
I stood by with my net. Because anything could go wrong, right?
Nothing went wrong.
Dorothy even seemed to enjoy being held.
And check out this picture. Dorothy and the other duck were thrilled to see each other and quacked up a happy storm inside that crate.
I swear Dorothy is smiling.
Three adults and two ducks were very, very happy. Dorothy has gone to a little farm a few miles east of here. She will have three duck friends and a flock of chickens to hang out with.
While I was icing my foot I received a text saying that Dorothy and the other ducks were very happy together and settled in.
All’s well that ends well.
But…this morning I did limp to the front window to make sure that Dorothy hadn’t acted like a homing pigeon and found her way back to us.
The beach was empty. We’ll miss her–a little–but we’re so glad we don’t have to worry about her anymore.
Dorothy has settled into a routine quite nicely, though little does she know how hard I’m working to rehome her.
There are schemes afoot.
She won’t go near the dog crate we borrowed from the local animal shelter, though after five days she has almost touched it with her beak. We feed her in front of it, but she acts like something evil is going to jump out at her. I’d optimistically hoped she would think of it as a safe little bed and waddle in and out.
Not a chance. Not yet. How I am going to drop my new wildlife net (thank you, Amazon) over her is a mystery.
The Duck Lady is going to bring one of her ducks along on Catching Dorothy Day, but we have not yet set a date.
In the meantime, we tempt our funny visitor with duck food. She always quacks her thanks, letting me get within two feet of her twice a day (mealtimes). When she hears the back door open she hurries along the beach and waddles up the hill as fast as her little legs can take her. Comical!
I took a break from farm chores Wednesday to visit with two friends on the other side of the bay. We drank sun tea, ate blackberry-topped cheesecake bars, admired the masses of flowers in beautiful pots and told each other hilarious stories. I really hope another “Porch Session” is in my future, though my own porch has no flowers.
I will have to buy some.
I couldn’t resist taking a picture of “Henry’s Roses”, named after the elderly gentleman who grew them for decades.
Alas, I was not born with the gardening gene. But every single one of my friends has it.
is there any more pie? 