Yes, me walking to the bus and thinking. Kind neighbour asking if I wanted a lift when I was practically on the bus stop, thank you not since you passed me leaving home and then 20 mins away from the bus. Where was I, ah thinking and I don't think well on my feet but this was good. I've been looking at treadmills, go on, roll around screaming with laughter, but all of them are too big for the small space I have left. I'm still the custodian of BOH's furniture, clothes and kitchen stuff so there's only one small part of the study and these damn machines don't look big until you get one in the house. What I need is a walking treadmill, no running room because there's no way I'll run anytime soon, but a small square walk pad, handles and simple control, 2 speeds, walk and crawl.
Why hasn't someone thought of this for old people, fat people and people who fall over gumnuts on footpaths? If I buy a treadmill, it's weight has to go up to 150kgs which I think is dumb because that's for running, I'm thinking crawl here and they're damned expensive. I don't need an incline button, I don't need a clock ticking away my heart attack only two handrests so I don't fall off and a square foot pad. I could do 30 mins 3 times a day just doing a slow walk and put in optional extra, a book rest. All this thinking and I didn't fall over once.
I haven't walked to the bus in quite some time and it was interesting to see changes. Little house on the corner just sold for $600,000, not much room on the block, corner block though and only 3 bedrooms and one bathroom. First owner was one of those manic house proud lunatics who laid the breakfast table before going to bed at night and threw the kids out of bed at dawn to have the bedrooms perfect before the school run. No lace curtains, just drapes pulled back to show the immaculate housekeeping. Bitch. I had photos on the blog somewhere showing the fantastic Wisteria over the arched front gate which the current owners have cut down. Speaking of Wisteria, I left my camera at home as usual and I came across another lych gate with Pink Wisteria. I've never seen Pink Wisteria before only the purple stuff. I defer to River and Elephant's Child to tell me that it really exists. It means another walk with the camera to catch it but considering the wind today there'll be no blossoms left this week.
So around the corner from the white house, the storm had brought down a branch from a flowering gum. This tree was in a garden and it's been there for over 40 years but one branch and it wasn't a big branch considering the tree, knocked out the corner of two houses. Tiles off and guttering down and both over bedrooms, didn't take down the fence but cracked off the wood in places. When it flowers it's always full of lorikeets and I used to stop and watch them, up close and personal.
Around the next corner and another house sold. Almost the same layout as mine but on a slightly bigger block and has a garage, no garden (at least I have ivy) $664,000 for this one. I hope the ex trawls the home sale pages and sees these.
And the bus, another sadist driver not dropping the door but enjoyed watching me do Tarzan to get in. Myki wasn't working as usual, at the front, so I made sure I exited the same way and didn't pay.
Next driver was kinder and edged the bus right up to the footpath in Mentone, so much better but my knees still felt like they'd been struck with hammers. Then I caught my arm in the handle of the door to the surgery and nearly broke it when the door slammed shut. Don't ask me how it happened, I was in too much other pain to notice. Doc Marvin is satisfied with BGL, much better than last year. If I go off the blood pressure and diabetic pills, nothing will happen now but maybe a stroke in a few years. I asked if that would happen before the heart attack and breakdown and he thought maybe all at once knowing how I never do things by halves. He did explain why the Diabetes mob continue to change the rules. They take a control group and study them, usually a mixture of good and bad conditions then make changes. Shame my diabetes educator doesn't read the memos about one size not fitting all and listens to me instead of talking at me. Bloody Doc is still laughing at her not knowing the difference between non-alcoholic ginger beer and writing me up as a drunk.
I ended the day with mother, again, still, evermore.