Help, I've fallen, and I can't get up!
I'm not quite to that stage yet but am getting to the point where getting up does take some planning.
The other day, I knelt down on the floor to look for some items in the hot water tank room aka free-for-all storage room.
Once the item was found, the next challenge involved figuring out how I was gonna stand up with nothing to grab except the doorway for support.
The situation was awkward at best. After putting my hands pretty much everywhere and not finding a firm hold anywhere, I turned my body around and grabbed the chair and kitchen island behind me and happily pulled myself into an upright position.
Twas a moment where I was glad nobody was around to observe the helpless ol' lady fumbling about.
The only other time matters have been worse at that particular location came one day a few years back when we were having a house mouse problem.
Mousetraps loaded with peanut butter globs were going everywhere in the kitchen area. And, since I'd found holes in potato chip sacks and crumbs on the floor of the hot-water tank, free-for-all storage room, I planted at least three traps inside.
The plan was that if I didn't nab the buggers behind the hot water tank, I could catch them as they made their way through the room and into the kitchen.
The only problem occurred when I stepped as close as possible to the narrow spot between the tank and the wall and bent over to place a trap on the floor and got stuck.
My head was pointed downward not far from the floor while my rump hung over the tank at a 45-degree angle upward.
I couldn't decide whether to dive on in behind that tank or to just stay there stuck until someone came to rescue me.
The latter seemed to be the least desirable option.
Fortunately, after little very careful maneuvering of body parts I eventually escaped.
Thank God my center of gravity had not at that time subsided to the level it seems to be these days.
It would have been several hours before Bill came home to find a foot sticking out door of the room and a body hanging over the tank.
Plus, the mice could have had a great time racing past me through the open door to have a feast during my demise.
Anyway, long story short, getting up from ground or floor level is probably the hardest part of getting old for me so far----'cept for maybe looking in the mirror with my new higher-powered progressive glasses.
As an aside, my new unscratched Costco spectacles do, indeed, show progress with extreme clarity--all those facial wrinkles up close and personal just aren't that pretty.
Well, yesterday I fell to the ground while snowshoeing and had to think for a while how I was gonna get up. Actually, the initial situation was kinda nice.
Bill and I were out snowshoeing and breaking trails through the far end of our woods.
He had already taken a snowshoeing trip that way a few days before to assess the fallen or broken off tree count from the most recent snow dump.
I can tell you there are a few "widow makers" hanging by thin layers of wood and bark.
The trail he had broken with his snowshoes while on that observation mission had disappeared in some areas, due to powder snow filling in the tracks, thanks to a steady north wind.
We trudged through the area for about half an hour and opened up some new pathways.
During our outing, I came around a corner, caught my snowshoe on something and tumbled into the snow. I had my big camera around my neck and figured my first task would be to stuff it inside my vest so it wouldn't get wet or damaged as I rolled around trying to figure out how to get up.
But wait!
This position offered me a new perspective. I don't often lie in the snow and take pictures of the world above me---mainly because these days, knowing the work involved in getting upright, I don't go down on purpose.
I took advantage of my fall and snapped a couple of photos before stuffing the camera inside the vest. Then, the planning began.
I did have a trekking pole, used for support while snow shoeing and as an accessory for rising up. First, however, I needed to get the snow shoes and the body in a position where nothing would get in the way once I started my launch.
Thankfully, I fell next to a tree, so once I rolled over on all fours, I was able to use both the tree and the pole AND got up on the first try.
That has not always been the case for me and it's the number one reason I do not partake in downhill skiing.
Tumbles on snow shoes come less frequently---hence my winter sport of choice.
We had a great time opening up pathways through the woods, and later, I returned in the afternoon to pack down a few more.
Once those trails are packed, snow shoeing can be exhilarating and addictive.
During my second session out in the woods, some taters and remnants of ham (raised just down the road) simmered in a pot on the kitchen stove.
The subsequent soup with cheddar cheese, mini crackers and Cheeze-its hit the spot after a day of enjoying the outdoors right in our very own beautiful woods.
I'm looking forward to some more snow shoeing today and, of course, this being "game day," there's a double reward at the end of the day besides that tasty homemade soup.
GO, ZAGS! Stay upright and push those Pepperdine Waves back to the ocean. 8 p.m. PST on ESPNU.
Happy Thursday.
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| It's actually kind of a nice view to enjoy while lying in the snow, figuring out how you're gonna get up. |
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