Posted tagged ‘steps’

“A trophy carries dust. Memories last forever.”

February 7, 2017

I am watching the Patriots and their duck boat rolling rally ride through the streets of Boston. Earlier it was snowing, and now it is raining, but the crowds don’t care. The fans are standing along the sides of the streets 20 or more deep. The players are having a wonderful time yelling, clapping and dancing. The confetti blowing all over makes it difficult to see but Tom Brady stands out. He is in the front boat holding the Lombardi trophy and waving, a huge smile on his face. The crowd loves him. Lots of school desks are empty today. Kids will remember this parade the whole of their lives.

Gracie is less reluctant to go down the back steps into the yard. She knows I’m there. I stand in front of her as she goes down front paws first one step at a time. She runs all over the yard glad to be off the leash.

When I was a kid, I followed the Red Sox and the Celtics. The poor Sox were hapless, and it was easy to get a good seat even an hour before the game. I remember sitting in a box seat behind the dugout, empty seats around me. The Sox, perennial losers, were not a great draw. I did see a moment in history when Bob Tillman, the catcher, tried to cut off Al Kaline stealing second and hit Johnny Wyatt, relief pitcher, in the head.

I listened to Celtics games on the radio. Johnny Most was the best announcer of them all. I used to hide my transistor radio under the covers so I could listen to the Celts play the L.A. Lakers, perennial foes. Even when the Celts were on TV we listened to Johnny Most. I still remember him screaming, “Havlicek stole the ball,” in the 1965 Eastern Conference Finals when the Sox were only a point ahead and Philly had the ball. I went to Celtics games as I could take the bus and the subway to North Station. They were often sold out. The Celts were perennial winners.

I have never seen the Pats live, but I have watched every game on TV. I’m okay with that. I get to stay warm and comfy. The kitchen and bathroom are both down the hall. I do love to go to Fenway especially for night games. It is a magical place with the green grass and all the lights.

My mother was not into sports and didn’t understand the rules of any game, but if we watched, she watched. I remember her cheering for the wrong football team, an easy mistake. We didn’t say anything. It was great to see her be a fan.

“And falling’s just another way to fly.”

June 24, 2014

I have come outside to the deck hoping the malaise which has descended will disappear in the glory of the morning. I have to admit that first sentence does make me chuckle. I sound like a Victorian woman swooning on the chaise holding a handkerchief infused with lavender. Even Gracie too seems not herself. She followed me to the deck then went back inside to her crate. She doesn’t usually ever leave me.

Yesterday I fell twice. Nothing serious, a few scrapes. The first was due to inattention. I was talking and walking, luckily I hadn’t added gum to the mix, when I tripped over one of those parking blocks. My elbow and knee got it that time. The second was going up the deck stairs. My flip-flop turned and I tripped on it. I was two steps from the top, which almost sounds like a song title. Anyway, I went down on the deck and this time it was my hand and elbow. Today my knee and shoulder hurt. I have no idea why the shoulder hurts.

It was a chilly night. I don’t think my feet ever got warm. I burrowed as did Gracie and Fern. I should have gotten up and gone downstairs for the afghan, but I didn’t want to leave the bed and my luck during the day with stairs hadn’t been all that good so I chose chilly to wounded and bleeding.

Yesterday was a productive day so today won’t be though I might change my bed and maybe do some laundry. I’m not leaving the house. Errands are for tomorrow.

When she was little, my youngest sister always had the grossest big toes. She stubbed them too many times to count. My mother would put on band-aids but they never lasted. Toes and band aids don’t seem to do well together. Sneakers would have solved the problem but she never wore them. I remember white strapped sandals with open toes, gross open toes.

My other sister broke her leg by getting it caught in the spokes of her tricycle which went down the hill leg and all. She also almost lost her finger when one of those fold-up stools folded on her hand.

Given their childhood injuries, you’d think their adulthoods would be rife with broken bones, but nope, I’m the one who falls, who breaks a few bones or scrapes protruding parts of my body. I guess I should have been more prone to injury as a kid so I could have skipped it as an adult. Falling is now run of the mill for me.