… and what do you get? Another year older and covered in sweat.
Spiders: why did it have to be spiders? Last week I turned 56. No, please hold your applause. Coincidentally, I also helped my daughter move into a guest house, which had stood vacant for a year. When the former occupant moved out, the spiders and rats moved in.
I was on my hands and knees vacuuming spiders and rat droppings under the furnace, under the sinks, and under duress. Science lesson: birthdays are directly related to the pull of gravity. Kneeling, squatting, and sitting down are a snap. Standing requires an act of Congress and a rosary. Since Congress can normally only agree on naming November “National Turnip Greens Month,” you are likely to become well acquainted with every dust bunny on the floor.
When I finally managed to return to a vertical position, the same gravity caused fluids from my arthritic knees to migrate South. Leaking fluids from various body parts is also directly related to aging, but that’s a subject for another science lesson.
The upshot is that cleaning and many trips up and down the stairs of my daughter’s previous residence resulted in my feet swelling enough to necessitate the purchase of clown shoes. (Clowns: why did it have to be clowns?)
Years ago, we spent three years in Spain. While my friends were collecting Lladros (ceramic figurines for which you must sell two kidneys and your first-born child in the States) we collected slabs of marble. My daughter decided that she wanted the marble for her new home. This is where the title of this blog comes into play.
Where I once had the muscle tone of a gymnast, I am now able to successfully lift a box of toothpicks (as long as they don’t have the cellophane fluffy stuff on the end). I could always get a career making balloon animals. They’re much lighter than marble, and I already have the shoes.
