Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Olympics

This morning I decided I had been dawdling in inactivity too long for my health. I checked the weather to see if I should wear sunglasses or a hat to protect my eyes. Should I wear something warm? It seemed like a mild day and nothing is worse than being over-dressed and perspiring. I had made the resolution to walk down to C  Street to eat breakfast.

I would walk with my walker, for the route I had chosen was very uneven footwise. I would walk the alley between 8th and 9th street. I live on 8th and G street. My progress was slow, for the ruts were a sign of a wet long winter. I had chosen the alley because of a memory driving that way soon after having moved here. The alley was green because of over hanging trees, and there were flowers blooming everywhere. But today there was no beauty in the alley. There were dead blackberry bushes, there were fences falling down, there were garbage cans overflowing with merchandise. Some of them that had lids that couldn't close, had been raided by crows or sea gulls. And after having gone a block and a half, it began raining. It was a mild rain, big drops but not too many of them.

In the restaurant, a nice homey clean one, I was too late for breakfast. So I ordered Fish and Chips. Everything tasted great. The salad was especially good. It took probably an hour and when my meal was finished and I had paid my bill I had a rude awakening. The rain that had been mild had turned very serious. By the time I got home, I was soaked to the skin. When I later spoke with Martha, she said Mom just because you feel you need exercise you don't have to train for the Olympics


LEISEL said...

Soaking wet, but still an adventure! It's good to get out and about. Good, bad, or ugly . . . you still had a nice meal out!

musingegret said...

What an adventure and good for you on the Olympics Walker Training! Next up, the marathon! Oh Ms. Svensto, your stories are always good for a heartwarming chuckle. Glad you enjoyed your fish and chips---good fuel for making your way back home again.
Take care, dear one. You're showing us all how the 90's should be lived.