May 22: Long Walks, Dancing, and a Moment on the Road

We have had a full and wonderful week. Last Sunday Carl and Amy went on a long bike ride with a bakery stop to refuel. That afternoon Sarah had her spring piano recital for which she wore her musical-note-print sundress. I got the dress for her a year and a half ago, at her request, but this was her first time wearing it. 

My head and hip continue to be in good shape, although it is ever the humbling journey with my hip. On Tuesday Carl and I walked to vote, which made for my longest walk post-surgery. It was a little over a mile round trip. I felt good but was definitely slower on the walk home. A couple of hours later Amy and I walked to a bakery that is not far (slightly less than a mile round trip) from our house. Apparently though, those two walks were a bit too much for me so that evening I was toast. It took me until Thursday evening before my right leg felt normal again. I was even needing my cane around the house, which I usually don’t need these days. 

Amy, ever the artist, created a “hairdo” out of a long black skirt on her head and multiple scrunchies and colorful cloth headbands. 

Sarah had a field trip on a river boat on Tuesday. She likes to pretend there were crocodiles in the river. Amy had no school on Tuesday because her school is a polling place, and then she had a field trip on Thursday. The week felt unusual to begin with, and then Friday neither child attended school because we were driving to Philadelphia for a Bat Mitzvah. The Bat Mitzvah was yesterday and was wonderful. The service was beautiful and meaningful and an energetic celebration of life. Our kids (and all of the many kids there) did remarkably well given that the service was 2 1/2 hours long. After that we had a fun time at a picnic and a dinner. Sarah and Amy really loved the dancing. I expect they may nap on the drive home. 

Today for the beginning of our drive there was a moment that feels symbolic of the difference between Carl and me. Carl was driving and needed to get over one lane on the highway. It was busy and difficult to merge. Cars weren’t letting us over. Carl quietly and sweetly said, “come on, friend.” At that point I cracked up, knowing that if I had been driving in that moment I would have loudly growled to the people not letting me in, “thanks Piggy Hoggy!”

Anyway, sweet friends, I do thank you for reading. None of you are Piggy Hoggies.