SOLSC 12: Am I a Wuss?

            I was supposed to meet a friend downtown to see a movie, in a theater! (First time in months.) Just 3 blocks to the subway from my home, and three blocks from the subway to the theater.

            At 3 p.m., I left my building to walk up from Riverside Drive to Broadway. There’s a slight hill — and a stiff wind coming off the Hudson River. I walked halfway up the block with walking sticks and felt all right — but then I thought ahead. I’d be coming home in the evening, the wind could get worse, there’s snow predicted.

            I turned around to feel the wind in my face. It was strong and steady. I remembered a day last year when I was so battered by wind crossing a broad street that I retreated to near a building until the wind weakened. I do not want to fall. I felt like a wuss. But I decided not to take the risk.

            Back in the lobby of my building, the super told me five older people in our building have fallen walking down our block. I’m almost 80. My husband fell on slushy ice and was dead two years later. Now back in the safety of my apartment, I keep telling myself, “You’re smart, you're not a wuss.” Maybe “I’m a smart wuss.”

 

 

 

-------------------------------------

I’m participating in the 15th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 12 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!

 

SOLSC 9: A Dead Day

Dead because the weather and my sleep patterns are conspiring against me. I have a pair of walking sticks to use in snow or slush, and in the winter I keep them by the front door. Last weekend, when it was springtime warm, one of the sticks had fallen over, and I thought, I won’t need these anymore—and put them in the closet.

            Mother Nature noticed, and gave me, and the rest of us, a chilly slap. Rain, then snow, and rain again today. No walk for me.

            And not just because of the weather. My sleep the past few weeks has become erratic—either not falling asleep for hours, or waking too early and remaining awake for hours. Today, I felt too tired to tackle the slippery streets even with those walking sticks.

            Here’s hoping my sleep improves tonight; the weather is supposed to get warmer, at least.

            -------------------------------------

I’m participating in the 15th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 9 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!

 

SOLSC 21: More Political Action

            My cross-the-hall neighbor invited me to join her today at a protest against the Medicaid block grants part of the “repeal and replace Obamacare” bill. I met her downtown at the Federal Office Building, where we joined around 150 people with some of the following signs.

 

            It was a pleasant day, sunny, not too cold – it’s the second day of spring, after all. After about  40 minutes, the demonstration was over. My neighbor and I met a friend of hers for lunch at a quite nice Italian restaurant with this peculiar sign on the door.

“[G]ently... pull... hard”? We did have to pull very hard on the door to get it open, but “gently”? Don’t know how to do that.

            On the way home, I couldn’t resist this shot of the snow still piled along the curb on Broadway.

The snow is slowly shrinking, but we’re getting a cold snap in the next few days, so what remains is going to freeze hard. O Spring, when will you arrive to stay?

Slice of Life, #9

            It was in the 50s today, and the sun was spring cleaning. The sidewalks looked like the inside of an old-fashioned freezer being defrosted. As the pavement warmed, snow mounds began to melt from underneath (I feel the need to apologize for the litter of cigarette butts, even though none are mine) as well as angular frozen piles softening on exposed surfaces.*

Isolated snow piles resembled icebergs.

Some tree wells were still filled with snow, while in others the snow had melted fast.

One shop owner jump-started the softening process with a hose, 

while around the corner others attacked the frozen piles with shovels.

 

The warmer day with its heaps of dirty snow evokes my inner five-year-old. I crunch the edges of a snowbank with my shoe and watch it crumble. I kick a chunk of snow down the sidewalk like it's a soccer ball. I wish I had a little shovel so I could dig out my own snow cave. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

* March 9: I must apologize for the confusing placement of the photos. Blogger's editor is clearly not WYSIWYG -- the pictures are supposed to be in  pairs. I must have chosen a very poor template for mixing text and visuals. At least now I know what I need for a template with the most flexibility. 

** March 31: I found a way to create a layout that displays these photos somewhat the way I wanted them. Much, much better.