From over here at El Rancho No Gotta better known as Poverty Acres, we wish you, with all your family a happy and prosperous New Year. As country folks, we also wish you good health, happiness, few mosquitoes and even fewer chiggers. Blessings + Bob "N" Pat.
Anita, may your New Year be filled with totally unexpected happiness and joy. Personally, I'm a bit down on "resolutions." Last year I resolved to lose ten pounds. This year I have just fifteen to go.
Texas Anita - over the past year your substack has been a savior of sorts. Frequently I started my day wth you. Cup of java & your reminders of all I've to be grateful for. How you write such captivating realities, along wth your time line photographs is remarkable. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
We had a Toastmaster's Club Member (from Kerrville) a long time ago who raised chickens. They were a particular breed originating in France. He said almost every chicken in the US was one breed, I think Gallus gallus domesticus. Are your chickens a particular breed? He wrote a good poem called "Just throw me on the burn pile" about his post-mortem wishes.
HAD TWO SURGERIES IN DEC ONE FOR A CATARACT AND ANOTHER FOR A SKIN SURGERY ...GLAD 2023 IS OVER AND NO DR APPTS UNTIL MARCH...GOD IS GOOD ...HAPPY HEALTHY NEW YEAR ANITA AND CHUCK AND THE FAMILY...GOD BLESS YOU ALL..SANDRA
Love your story Anita! You have been a true warrior and inspiration to many. Keep fighting the good fight, and make 2024 a year of rest and recharge for yourself, you deserve it.
The last day of 2023 AD, I decided to take a platonic friend, who cannot drive, to a local park of his choosing. His pelvis is completely restructured with metal and mesh after a near fatal car crash eight years ago. He calls himself, "Gimpy", and he lives on disability now. I thought to myself, "How fast can he really hike at 59 years old in his condition? I should be able to keep up with him no problem."
He assured me he is slow. I made him promise we go under three miles on easy trails as I am an out-of-shape senior with no health insurance and cannot afford to be injured. I don't have hiking boots and chose a Walmart special, women's over the ankle, fashion boot-shoe to wear. He agreed. Well, he's as fast a hiker as I was forty years ago.
Straightaway, he took us bushwacking up a mountain with moderate difficulty for me. My heart was coming out of my chest, and I insisted I take a break. He went on ahead. Hmm. We're bushwacking. No trail. Hmm. Not hiking with you anymore, Mr. Reckless! Finally, after descending into a valley, we eventually intersected an official trail just as my muscles were sufficiently fatigued and turning to maudlin mush.
We rested in a beautiful location on a swamp's edge in the middle of a ring dike, which indictates a volcano had lived and died there millenia ago. The sun had finally broken through overcast skies two miles from my car. I was overwhelmed by the majesty of God's handiwork. Tears welled. I secretly forgave my friend for being reckless with himself and myself. He was not using poles and several times lost his balance. Filled with joy, a dumbass idea drove me to scramble up a boulder slope to hug an ancient, lone,
majestic White Pine just two yards away. Yes, six feet from me and as high above my near six foot frame. After completion of my gesture of admiration, I stepped back into my coup de grace and a rock and roll, snap, crackle, pop of my left fibula leg bone at my ankle.
So, having been in a sweet place of worship in my soul, it helped me crawl to my recent position, aware also of the ache in my left butt cheek from landing on a boulder, a bruised tibia below my right knee, a bleeding abrasion on my right inner wrist and the sensation of strain in my cervical spine. I rode the pain wave of nausea and shock for five minutes in my attempts to recover my wits. Feeling curious chemicals coursing through my circulatory system, I sat with my face turned toward the sun. I put a smile on that face and deep breathed. Jesus in, pain out. Jesus in, pain out. I prayed a mighty prayer out loud and declared Jesus must rescue me in my time of need and send angels to escort me out. I knew local EMS EMTs and firemen were beginning to celebrate. I was not going to interfere with New Year's Eve festivities provided I could bear weight, even in pain. I envisioned being dropped on a stretcher because "good ole boys were drinking whiskey and wine". I knew adrenaline was my friend for the next hours, so, with some anxiety, it was time to pop up and hop to it! Two miles with rocky ups and downs ahead! Praise God for aluminum poles. And for whatever reason, my reckless friend chose to hike up ahead of me and left me to the task of solo ambulation on a broken ankle/leg. I didn’t let it phase me. Perhaps I'd been too brave and given mixed messages. He sees me smiling and praising God! My words are saying I broke my ankle, but I'm so chipper and radiating joy! I never felt so loved by Jesus! His presence was palpable! I moved along in good spirits with occasional yelling out in pain and hobbling and near falls. Angels had to have aided me!
I drove my friend back to his city. I realized he had most likely been determined to show me his tough manliness remains, despite being disabled, when he chose to bushwack and push us hard. Men often root their self-identity in their physical strength and ability to be independent. Empathy tempered my heart hurt that he neither kept his agreement to an easy, leisurely, shorter hike, nor assisted me walking two miles back to my car. Our planned three mile hike was just under six miles.
I drove myself to the ER and walked in on my aluminum poles, which promptly slid across ceramic tiles. Someone ordered me to stop walking and ran for a wheelchair. I got the $400 crutches and $250 air cast boot and the $200 X-ray I needed to confirm fracture and rule out surgery. I researched from home how to treat a distal fibula fracture with a stable ankle joint. I started PT my third day, aware of the risk of deep vein thrombosis. I am following the treatment protocol. I know the Lord will provide the financial provision to pay the ER bill, X-ray and radiologist costs out of pocket. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.
The ER tech said it was great that I got the injury out of the way in 2023! I chuckled at that one, knowing six weeks of convalescence and discomfort awaited me in 2024! Living without anyone to assist me has meant creative ingenuity in planning and staging ahead how to get things done and go shopping, to shower, do laundry and cook. My heart is very empathetic for all those on walkers, in wheelchairs or bed-bound, who live like this life-long. Honestly, this unexpected beginning to 2024 has given me pause and rest. I'm reading every book I've bought that I haven't had a chance to read just yet. I should start a blog. I'm doing a lot of intercessory prayer. I'm cleaning up my diet and detoxing. Regenerative sleep is beyond my reach, but injuries will heal and pain fall away till sweet slumber returns. Upper body strength is returning as I use the crutches. They say being able to stand on one leg for 30 seconds with hands by your side, is a sign of longevity. I couldn't do that a week ago, but I can now! January came in like a lion and may 2024 go out like a lamb!
From over here at El Rancho No Gotta better known as Poverty Acres, we wish you, with all your family a happy and prosperous New Year. As country folks, we also wish you good health, happiness, few mosquitoes and even fewer chiggers. Blessings + Bob "N" Pat.
Anita, may your New Year be filled with totally unexpected happiness and joy. Personally, I'm a bit down on "resolutions." Last year I resolved to lose ten pounds. This year I have just fifteen to go.
Texas Anita - over the past year your substack has been a savior of sorts. Frequently I started my day wth you. Cup of java & your reminders of all I've to be grateful for. How you write such captivating realities, along wth your time line photographs is remarkable. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
We had a Toastmaster's Club Member (from Kerrville) a long time ago who raised chickens. They were a particular breed originating in France. He said almost every chicken in the US was one breed, I think Gallus gallus domesticus. Are your chickens a particular breed? He wrote a good poem called "Just throw me on the burn pile" about his post-mortem wishes.
HAD TWO SURGERIES IN DEC ONE FOR A CATARACT AND ANOTHER FOR A SKIN SURGERY ...GLAD 2023 IS OVER AND NO DR APPTS UNTIL MARCH...GOD IS GOOD ...HAPPY HEALTHY NEW YEAR ANITA AND CHUCK AND THE FAMILY...GOD BLESS YOU ALL..SANDRA
Love your story Anita! You have been a true warrior and inspiration to many. Keep fighting the good fight, and make 2024 a year of rest and recharge for yourself, you deserve it.
The last day of 2023 AD, I decided to take a platonic friend, who cannot drive, to a local park of his choosing. His pelvis is completely restructured with metal and mesh after a near fatal car crash eight years ago. He calls himself, "Gimpy", and he lives on disability now. I thought to myself, "How fast can he really hike at 59 years old in his condition? I should be able to keep up with him no problem."
He assured me he is slow. I made him promise we go under three miles on easy trails as I am an out-of-shape senior with no health insurance and cannot afford to be injured. I don't have hiking boots and chose a Walmart special, women's over the ankle, fashion boot-shoe to wear. He agreed. Well, he's as fast a hiker as I was forty years ago.
Straightaway, he took us bushwacking up a mountain with moderate difficulty for me. My heart was coming out of my chest, and I insisted I take a break. He went on ahead. Hmm. We're bushwacking. No trail. Hmm. Not hiking with you anymore, Mr. Reckless! Finally, after descending into a valley, we eventually intersected an official trail just as my muscles were sufficiently fatigued and turning to maudlin mush.
We rested in a beautiful location on a swamp's edge in the middle of a ring dike, which indictates a volcano had lived and died there millenia ago. The sun had finally broken through overcast skies two miles from my car. I was overwhelmed by the majesty of God's handiwork. Tears welled. I secretly forgave my friend for being reckless with himself and myself. He was not using poles and several times lost his balance. Filled with joy, a dumbass idea drove me to scramble up a boulder slope to hug an ancient, lone,
majestic White Pine just two yards away. Yes, six feet from me and as high above my near six foot frame. After completion of my gesture of admiration, I stepped back into my coup de grace and a rock and roll, snap, crackle, pop of my left fibula leg bone at my ankle.
So, having been in a sweet place of worship in my soul, it helped me crawl to my recent position, aware also of the ache in my left butt cheek from landing on a boulder, a bruised tibia below my right knee, a bleeding abrasion on my right inner wrist and the sensation of strain in my cervical spine. I rode the pain wave of nausea and shock for five minutes in my attempts to recover my wits. Feeling curious chemicals coursing through my circulatory system, I sat with my face turned toward the sun. I put a smile on that face and deep breathed. Jesus in, pain out. Jesus in, pain out. I prayed a mighty prayer out loud and declared Jesus must rescue me in my time of need and send angels to escort me out. I knew local EMS EMTs and firemen were beginning to celebrate. I was not going to interfere with New Year's Eve festivities provided I could bear weight, even in pain. I envisioned being dropped on a stretcher because "good ole boys were drinking whiskey and wine". I knew adrenaline was my friend for the next hours, so, with some anxiety, it was time to pop up and hop to it! Two miles with rocky ups and downs ahead! Praise God for aluminum poles. And for whatever reason, my reckless friend chose to hike up ahead of me and left me to the task of solo ambulation on a broken ankle/leg. I didn’t let it phase me. Perhaps I'd been too brave and given mixed messages. He sees me smiling and praising God! My words are saying I broke my ankle, but I'm so chipper and radiating joy! I never felt so loved by Jesus! His presence was palpable! I moved along in good spirits with occasional yelling out in pain and hobbling and near falls. Angels had to have aided me!
I drove my friend back to his city. I realized he had most likely been determined to show me his tough manliness remains, despite being disabled, when he chose to bushwack and push us hard. Men often root their self-identity in their physical strength and ability to be independent. Empathy tempered my heart hurt that he neither kept his agreement to an easy, leisurely, shorter hike, nor assisted me walking two miles back to my car. Our planned three mile hike was just under six miles.
I drove myself to the ER and walked in on my aluminum poles, which promptly slid across ceramic tiles. Someone ordered me to stop walking and ran for a wheelchair. I got the $400 crutches and $250 air cast boot and the $200 X-ray I needed to confirm fracture and rule out surgery. I researched from home how to treat a distal fibula fracture with a stable ankle joint. I started PT my third day, aware of the risk of deep vein thrombosis. I am following the treatment protocol. I know the Lord will provide the financial provision to pay the ER bill, X-ray and radiologist costs out of pocket. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.
The ER tech said it was great that I got the injury out of the way in 2023! I chuckled at that one, knowing six weeks of convalescence and discomfort awaited me in 2024! Living without anyone to assist me has meant creative ingenuity in planning and staging ahead how to get things done and go shopping, to shower, do laundry and cook. My heart is very empathetic for all those on walkers, in wheelchairs or bed-bound, who live like this life-long. Honestly, this unexpected beginning to 2024 has given me pause and rest. I'm reading every book I've bought that I haven't had a chance to read just yet. I should start a blog. I'm doing a lot of intercessory prayer. I'm cleaning up my diet and detoxing. Regenerative sleep is beyond my reach, but injuries will heal and pain fall away till sweet slumber returns. Upper body strength is returning as I use the crutches. They say being able to stand on one leg for 30 seconds with hands by your side, is a sign of longevity. I couldn't do that a week ago, but I can now! January came in like a lion and may 2024 go out like a lamb!