Fifty years ago, my daddy brought his little Scottish family to Newfoundland, and a whole new way of life. We all had to make adjustments - I was not quite ten years old, and I remember just wanting to go 'back home.' Needless to say, that didn't happen - I think I missed the kindness of a lady named Mrs Cook, and the security of the home I grew that far up in. (Great grammar, wha?)
However, I did adjust - I learned to swim in the Atlantic Ocean, in the sheltered but still cold waters of Alexander Bay, across from Traytown Cabins, and I learned to skate when these same waters froze solid in the winter. I was just as stubborn then as I am now, but at least when I fell while learning to skate, I didn't have the chance of drowning. ( Except for the first time on skates, must have been on a brook near our house, because I did go through the ice.) And I remember running like the wind, running until I felt no ground under my feet, just running off the hurt that I dealt with being the target of bullying. I sure wish I had the self-confidence then that I do now - I wouldn't have crept through my high school years trying to be invisible.
Anyway, a lot can change in fifty years - for example, now I am fifty years older. That is absolutely scary, although not everything about me has changed in those 5 decades. For example, I still like Scottish Tablet, even though my brother won't send me any, and I still like to skate (but I haven't for the past couple of years, since my knee started bothering me,) and I imagine I would still like to swim if I had the nerve to appear in public in a swim suit. However, I can't run. And after what happened on my way home, I'm surprised I can still walk.
'Hmm,' you may think, 'she got run over by a bus.'
But you would be wrong. I got stepped on, by what must have been a giant wearing bloody big work boots - I had just came down the stairs at the Sky Train station, wearing my cute little flat shoes, when this immensely heavy male rushed by, and his foot came down on the left half of my left foot. I managed to limp to the truck, and then limp to the house - that was over an hour ago, and it's still sore. To tell the truth, I have no idea what the guy looked like, I was too busy checking to see if I still had a nice plump foot or a flattened bloody flap at the end of my leg while hopping on the other and swearing under my breath because I was in a public place and know I look very grandmotherly. But damn, it hurt.
I did see my eagle on the way home though, so that was a high point of my day. He was standing in his nest, and I'm sure he looked at me as we drove along. I felt very special.
I had crappy soup (yes, I actually made crappy soup - I'm only human, you know) for lunch, and more crappy soup for dinner, with a very nice ham/lettuce sandwich on Ancient Grain Multi Grain bread. I have decided to give up baking bread for a while, as I seemed to be eating most of it myself, so I'm back on the Multi Grain again. Of course, I also had a few cookies - I really have to trade carbs for fruit and salads. I promise myself I will do that when Spring weather finally arrives.
It's pretty sad that June 4 is a Hot Chocolate day and not an Iced Mocha day. I don't even have to wait until my feet are cold tonight to go to bed, as they are freezing already - but I think I'll have to sleep with my Left one sticking out of the covers, as I can't even bear to have the hem of my jeans touch it when I walk.
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