Well, it’s nearly Summer, and, unless you’re really buff, you don’t want to risk looking out of shape for the world to see every time you walk out the house. Just sayin’.
I had a doctor’s appointment at 10:15 today and it was just a tad too warm to walk two miles one way to his office, so I opted for an early a.m. walk and drove to the appointment.
When I left the house, it was already a little sticky out. I figured I’d just head to the railroad tracks and back for a quick four-mile jaunt. I took the camera with me … just in case.
While walking home, I couldn’t help but notice a big, fat robin standing on a tall statue of the Virgin Mary smack in the middle of a large garden. It did make me smile, though a robin standing on the Blessed Mother did seem a little sacrilegious. He stayed there, perched on the top of her veil, for the longest time and I must admit I was sorely tempted to pull out the camera and snap his rather irreverent pose, but I did not.
As I moseyed along the Boulevard, thinking about that robin and the statue, a bicyclist came by just then and did a shrill wolf whistle. I looked over, knowing full well it wasn’t directed at me, then had to stifle a giggle as the statuary above caught my eye. I see them every time I go down Emmons Boulevard, and, in the past, I’ve mentioned this pair that a homeowner stationed on opposite ends of the porch. As you can see, they are life-sized statues and one must take a second glance when you first come upon them.
My garden has some statuary as well, but just the usual – St. Francis, a turtle, a squirrel and some bunnies. I didn’t put my usual collection of large cement deer out there this year – no, not because I could barely move, let along lug them around on my four-wheeled dolly, but it started to rain and I already had out various garden knickknacks strewn all over the lawn, awaiting placement in their usual spots.
The bicyclist continued on his way to Wyandotte, and I hustled home to get cleaned up and ready to go.
I decided to get a little more dressed up than usual to see the allergist. Since I’ve worked off site since 2009, I admit that I’ve gotten lazy about getting dressed up anymore. I love comfy clothes and figure why not wear ‘em – I spent too many years squashed into pantyhose, buttoned up shirts and tight waistbands. So, I love my sweat suits and have lightweight ones for in the house, and heavier ones for outside, especially for when I walk. Likewise for shorts or lightweight pants for the house or outside. But they are all elastic. So, I went to my closet this morning and pulled out a pair of red capris and a matching striped top. The set was brand new when I bought them in 2008, in fact, I had to cut off the hangtags. I slipped on the top – no problem there. But the pants – oh, the pants. Well they zipped up okay … but I felt like a stuffed sausage. I unzipped them and returned them to the closet for something clean and comfy, then thought “nope, perhaps this will shame you … just go suffer in them!”
Now mind you, I’m not heavy for my height which is 5’9”, but, admittedly I sit too much. So, I lamented long and loudly “oh no – it happened to me, that dreaded secretarial spread” (or maybe it is bloggers backside). Smile.
Off I went to the doctor for this annual visit. I go once a month for my shots, but must see the doctor once a year. So, I was escorted into an office where a nurse took a history, keying in my data on her laptop. She departed and the doctor arrived. He smiled, shook my hand and asked how I was doing today. My reply was: “Well, Dr. Shah – I can’t breathe.” His wide smile quickly faded and he raised his eyebrows – after all, this is an allergy and asthma clinic. I saw his concern, laughed right away and said “no, my pants are too tight – I can’t breathe” and he laughed out loud as well. He remembered me telling him before I loved to walk and he said “but you walk daily – 500 miles a year, right?” … “yup”, I said, “but it isn’t doing any good for my waistline or these pants are sized wrong.”
It sure isn’t my diet – I eat properly and haven’t had sweets, treats, fried food or fast food in over four years, so I’ll just blame it on that downward spiral as I head to 60 years old – or, maybe I need to let it all hang out more often and be more body conscious.