From Hilary, re: attachment objects:
“Ok, so it’s not quite as bad as Whit’s multiple monkeys, but I thought
you’d appreciate that Hannah has attached to a small purple carabiner.
Oh great! what better than something that is tiny, slippery AND can
pinch fingers? xoxo”
Blue pants (dirty from hard day on the job at school)
Blue robot shirt (purchase by me from etsy)
Pink gingham button down (painstakingly unbuttoned with his own clumsy fingers for that breezy, casual look)
She didn’t even look back over her shoulder. (apologies for the blur – my iphone camera stretched to the limit of its powers)
So, I have a really deformed right thumbnail. And it hurts. This is from an injury sustained while writing Christmas cards (more on that later). The damned thing is throbbing constantly and is really bothering me. I was contemplating that I should just lop it off but then realized I’d be forfeiting the one thing that sets us apart from the animals (my opposable thumb). Guess not. But man oh man this hurts.
I apparently gesticulated so wildly while writing Christmas cards (alone in a room, so who was I gesturing to? your guess is as good as mine) that I punctured my right thumbnail with a pen. It has been growing out, that punctured part, and now about 2/3 of the nail is smooth and the top is all funky and short and painful. This is relevant only as a story to illustrate my immense physical awkwardness, which I’ve been thinking about today. Thinking about because yesterday morning, while running, I once again waved my arms in such a dramatic, spastic fashion that I yanked my earbud out of my ear and lost the little rubber part, again. I think that happens approximately 5 times per run. I go through those rubber earbuds like they are disposable (sadly they are not priced like disposable razors).
My mother used to call me a gazelle when I was growing up, implying some kind of grace. I mean, NO. Just plain NO. I am as graceless and gallumphing as they come. This from a girl who took ballet, then traded that for gymnastics, and only threw in the towel on gymnastics
after I broke my arm at sailing camp doing … yes, gymnastics. That was great. I was a tiny 10 year old in a leotard with a double compound fracture. That means when I held my left arm out straight, my hand was at 90 degrees from my straight arm, and both bones were completely broken in two and sticking out of the skin. It was pretty Frankenstein-ish actually.
Anyway, as I drove this morning and my thumb ached and ached, I contemplated all the ways I’m constantly tripping over my own feet (for example, my face-first digger onto the pavement while running last spring – to the celebratory honks of nearby drivers. awesome. or my tripping on the basement steps and breaking my toe).
Random musings. Also, Highwayman by Johnny Cash is the soundtrack of this day.
