How Do the Handicapped Do It?

Aha! I'll bet you're reading this blog post 'cause ya thought I was gonna talk about, "Sex: How Do the Handicapped Do It?"  Yea.  Now, don't deny it...  Dirty little minds. Perhaps, in a future post - after I get to know ya'll better.

How does a 73 year old, scooter-reliant, woman maintain three veggie gardens? She is Super Sappho Scooter-Woman!  Endowed with the Special Powers of Mindlessness (as opposed to mind-ful-ness), of Single-Mindedness, of Routiness and Sameness,  of Opinionated-Determined- Stubborness, of Being Slowly-Quick (or, quickly slow), of being Mistress of Her Fate and Servant to None.  Her Special Red Scooter has become an extension of herself and does whatever she commands.

Her uniform defines her. (It's always the same.)  Light blue jeans. (Elastic waist a must.)  Dark blue t-shirt.  (Henley, please.)  Once on, her special powers of Slow-Quickness and Mindlessness are enabled.  Never does she have to think about "Ah, gee, what am I gonna wear today?" At the butt-crack-of-dawn, she bounds outta bed.  OK.  Not really bounds.  When she awakes, realizes she's still alive - 'cause she still feels pain - she cajoles herself to "roll over in the clover",  and, with her well-muscled, aching, trembling arms, pushes herself into a sitting position. Then she performs the two most challenging feats of the day:  standing-up and walking.  With a Lawrence-Welk-a-one-and-a-two-and-a-three, she sways to and fro, and, on the three, she rises, like magic, from her bed.  Now standing on feet with no feeling and uncooperative legs, she wills herself to do the impossible: put one foot in front of the other and walk!

Whew!  I don't know about ya'll, but I'm already tired.  As an old friend (Lisa, where are you?) used to say, Later, gator.