August 3 – “Extra time to sleep”

It was another beautiful day yesterday.  Not a cloud in the sky.  No rain in sight for at least the next week.  OK.  Rain would be a really beautiful sight around here.  I didn't have physical therapy scheduled until 4:30, so I figured I had all day to recuperate.  Recuperate from what, you may ask?  Chris and I decided to go for our neighborhood walk.  It's not like it was the first time.  We have been getting in one or two a week.  In fact, we have built up to a mile and a half.  Well, a mile and however far the two short blocks in our neighborhood equal.    I know going up every street once is one mile.  I measured it years ago when I was a regular runner.  Ah, the good old days.  The only thing is, one street is especially long, another has a few extra houses on it, and two of them are basic, everyday, neighborhood hunks of houses.  Except, of course, for the one vacant lot that used to be a house until Hurricane Ike slid it off its foundation.    We did the one mile and then added the two shorter streets.  My knees always bark at me for the first two blocks or so.  I figure that's the arthritis rearing its ugly head, because it finally eases off, I guess when the joints finally get greased enough to override the pain.  While I'm walking I try to get in some of the isometric exercises I learned from physical therapy.  Chris says I look like I'm totally off my rocker.  I guess it might look a bit strange to see some old guy walking along the street with one hand to the side of his head, which is cocked to that side like a confused dog.  I hope it's doing the job, though, because it does make my neck sore.  No pain, no gain, right?   When we got home I checked my new iphone for messages (yeah, I am proud of it.  I got a call yesterday from Kel's computer.  And I could see him while we talked.  That facetime thing is amazing), and had a voice mail from the physical therapist to call right away.   Being the great patient that I am, I complied, and the secretary told me I had to change my appointment.  My new time?  9:30.  I hastily looked over at the clock.  It was almost 9:00.  Great.  So much for the time I had planned to spend working on the sermon.  That gave me just enough time to get over to 23rd Street.    I made it in plenty of time, although I had a new worry.  The truck was almost out of gas.  I knew we had accumulated enough purchases at Randall's to get 10 cents a gallon off, so I was determined to make it there to fill up.  I had Chris on standby to bring me some gas if I ran out.  I made it, though.  The workout was a tough one, even though I had the guy who is considerable gentler than the lady who started out with me.  I think she's on vacation.  I wonder where evil physical therapists go for vacation?  Maybe she went to a spa and had someone else tell her what excruciating exercises she had to do before she could relax on a bed of heated rocks with electrical stimuli running up and down her body and with only a tiny bell to ring if she ever felt uncomfortable.  Speaking of tiny bells, when the machine with my electrical stimuli went off, no one came to unhook me, so I rang my little bell.  Still no one came.  So put it on the little table next to me and I rang it again.  Still no one came.  So I got off the table and held the bell outside the curtain and I rang it again.  Ah.  Finally someone hollered out, "I'm on my way."  When she arrived she asked if the machine had already gone off.  Interesting question.  It was obviously off.  I assured her it had indeed stopped awhile ago, back when I started ringing the bell.  She hesitated a moment, gathered her bearings, then replied, "Oh, well, we just wanted to give you some extra time to sleep."  Oh.  OK.  Thanks so much.   Proverbs 21:15 says, "When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers."   Father, thank you for the beautiful days we have had lately.  We sure could use some rain again soon.  Amen.