As the Northeast continues its love/hate relationship with winter and everything icy-cold and snowy, DH and I jetted to Florida (la-de-dah!) for a quick pick-me-up of sun (YES!) and a visit with my mother. She moved into a new house last summer and I hadn’t seen it yet.

It is very nice, and much more spacious than her last place with lots more cupboards and storage space, but that wasn’t the most memorable part of our trip.

I had been threatening to raid her ever-growing fiber stash for ages. She finally said “okay” so I had to quickly dive before she changed her mind. At the end of the fiber review, I prepared and mailed home three boxes of fabric and yarns. There was a mite more crammed into our luggage, as well. Every piece I culled from her bins has a plan and a pattern already in mind. I should have stashed the yarn in the luggage. Yarn is lighter.

Such yarns! How my mother manages to find all these “going out of business” deals just amazes me! Knowing that I am currently in a yarn/knitting phase (I cycle through my various hobby addictions) she offered to assess the value of the most recent “going-out-of-business” opportunity. I gave her a budget. She exceeded it. She found some NICE yarns for socks. She also decided to try felting at some point and stocked up on those supplies as well.

Of course, this is how she has managed to amass such an extensive mountain of fiber (mostly fabrics). She accumulates because it is a “good deal” or because she just KNOWS she has (or will have) a use for it…some of the bolts I scarfed have been with her through several moves because she hasn’t had the time or the space or the something-or-other to work on the envisioned project.

While all of this went on, the sun shone. The skies were a clear blue for the majority of the weekend. I went outside sans coat, sans gloves, scarf, hat, sweatshirt, galoshes, or even a sweater! THIS is why I come to Florida in February. It restoreth my soul. My face beams back up at the sun in the sky. My eyes closed in pure sensual pleasure of sun on bare skin, gentle breezes keeping the warmth to lady-like levels (no sweating like a racehorse…a mere glisten at most).

And still, the most long-lasting memory of the weekend was yet to come.

Such delight made me cocky. Such abandon made me take the trash out to the curb Saturday after dark. The temperature was still moderately warm. Squeezing between mother’s KIA minivan and the low concrete edge of her front patio, I dropped the back of my head to gaze upwards, searching for moonlight and stars…and promptly lost my balance.*

This is not new. Gravity and I have a connection, loose though it is. Gravity wins when I forget that.

toe break toe closer

And that, dear readers, is the most long-lasting of the memories of my recent frolicking in Florida.

As DH’s swollen foot (gout, poor dear) is steadily recovering after being plied with medications that over time become toxic, my foot ballooned up to gargantuan proportions. I could hobble. I could *not* put on shoes. Shoes are required at airports, if only to make you take them off and put them on again for the TSA. Hmmmm. Have you ever noticed how close “screen” sounds like “scream”? Try taking off full-laced shoes designed for a two-pound foot, and then putting them on again on the five-pound foot you managed to get it into after staying off it for most of two days, and icing it beforehand.

Actually, please don’t. I am not that mean.

DH commented to my mother that wine may have been a factor in the tumble. Heartless beast. I cannot lie. There was wine. But everyone knows I do not need any intoxication to be a klutz. It’s natural.

Sorta like gravity.

*The details:
I broke the 5th metatarsal. It is a common enough sports injury for SPORTS people. (Me? HA!) And dancers, Lauris says. Tomorrow I see an orthopedic surgeon to see if anything can be done about or with it. The most common is to wear a “boot” which is a type of air-cast for the next 6 weeks or so. Since it is a radial break, there is a slight possibility of surgery to insert a screw or pin to hold it together and in place while the bone heals. I have osteopenia, so this might be considered a stronger option. Because it happened Saturday evening, and I didn’t get around to the x-ray until after we got home, it was Tuesday (today) before I knew for sure. The aforementioned lace-up boot was probably the best thing I could have done for it, said the doctor, as he wrote up the referral to the orthopedic surgeon.

Ick.

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