Walking

On Saturday, my mother complained that her knee was bothering her and that she didn't want to go to lunch or shop at the local nursery. Fine. Lunch was good and I bought some Peppermint Daddy pansies.

On Sunday, her knee still bothered her. I asked if she would like to go with me and the poopy dog to the park then come over for dinner. She could walk as much or as little as she liked. The dog would have fun riding in the car. He would have fun digging for gophers. I would take pictures. Okay. She would do it. I picked her up. She put on my dad's old coat to keep her warm on this cool spring day. She brought his cane to help her with her walking. We were off to the park.

The hills were green. The trees were budding. I ushered her toward the bike path so she would walk on smooth, solid ground. And she's off! Dang. Her pace picked up and we were truckin'. Kids were rollerskating and bicycling. She could hang. If this is how she exercises with a bum knee, I think the Olympics are in her future when she heals.

She may not like her picture here; but I'll take my chances since she still doesn't even know how to turn on my dad's computer.