At the breakfast table my bones and joints are speaking to me plaintively, complaining about grey skies, the icy wind that is blowing from the mountain tops and the lack of sunshine that would surely comfort them.
Although I am sympathetic to their needs my thoughts wander to a ninety six year old woman I saw on television last night as I was preparing supper. Ninety six, and she was still comfortably plumb, quite nimble and when she sat down she picked up her crocheting and spoke cheerily about her life and activities, - clearly one of those people born with a pleasant and positive disposition and a propensity for good health!
Then I thought about some of the people I know who are younger than me (well, that's easy) but who are miserable in their old age, 'halting' around, I thought!
Halting around??? Where did that phrase come from before it popped into my head.
I brought up the subject with Charles, who somehow, in the wink of an eye, turned my question into a political discussion. How does he do that????
Eventually he expressed his opinion about the meaning of 'halting around', and I was quite in agreement with him. I walked to the library the other day without my butterfly cane, and on the way home I definitely felt that I was 'halting along'....and thought sadly of the days when I was so proud of walking gracefully.
I am going to go to the drugstore this afternoon to buy myself one of those nice light canes that have a cord running through them which allow them to fold up into a nice purse size. Charles has two of them, but I need one of my own that can live in my purse (which is really a large carpet bag) and be handy whenever I find I am 'halting along'.
I took a linen hat, a pair of old leather gardening gloves and my red snippers out of the bag before I snapped it, so you can see that a foldable cane would live quite roomily in it.