In a Western Place

The frugal hubby declared me nuts after I signed us up for a produce delivery service. His reasoning? The waste per dollar factor. Well, the large box service ended up feeding compost bin more than our stomachs so we compromised by downgrading to the small box service. It’s pretty cool — we receive a new box of assorted in-season vegetables and fruits on our doorstep every Tuesday. Yesterday I threw some of last week’s fair into the crockpot with some beans and stock. Viola, yummy stew.

However, the kale keeps piling up. Any suggestions?

I’m in a great mood today. Waking up to fog-less, sunny morning in San Francisco is such an uplifting experience. After my physical therapy appointment in the Castro early this morning, I cut through Pacific Heights and the Presidio on my way to work. Steep hills galore — worth the extra wear on the brake pads for such a breathtaking view of the Bay. Ever so often I need a day like today to remind myself how lucky I am to live in one of the most beautiful places in the country. It makes me giddy.

It’s been 3 weeks since my surgery and physical therapy has become more challenging. Initially, I thought it was ridiculous that I had to attend so many sessions — that I had to start out with the most remedial of stretches — that I would have to “relearn” how to walk. I can walk now, dammit! However, this morning’s session involving steps was a little trying on my patience — a bittersweet reminder that I need to slow down and strengthen muscles that have grown weak after months of improper knee use. A tough reality for me to accept because I want to run, now! So we’re eliminating bad habits, resetting my muscle’s memory. It’s weird to think while walking, step heel, roll to toe, squeeze buttocks, tighten quads, engage core!

Funny, crutches are a conversation piece. Because I’m young, most assume it was an accident, an injury. It’s such a buzzkill to reveal that I have arthritis, I often reply, “eh, me knee just went bad”. I gave up self-loathing years ago, so pity is a huge turn off for me. And that’s what made me decide to have surgery, because I didn’t want the auto immunity to win. So, I opted to have my knee sliced open and hollowed out like a jack-o-lantern and repaired. Good as new. Arthritis 0, Kirsten 1.

I’ve been told that additional surgery is a strong possibility in my future. I certainly hope not. I prefer not to live my life in that mindset. Yeah, I have bad day every once and awhile, and it’s frustrating. But I have more days like today where I feel on top of the world. How many people can say that? Before my procedure, my Orthopedic held my hand and told me that he’ll be with me for the next 25 years. Daunting, but it’s reassuring that my first surgery went as well as it did…. you know, just in case.

Long post. Treat your bodies well, folks. Never take any of its functions for granted, ever.

Well, I’ve made a ton of progress in the last week, healing-wise. I celebrated over the weekend by throwing on a pair of real pants and leaving the house! On Saturday I got my hair done then M and I “crutched” over to the new wine bar in our hood for a glass of Sauvingon Blanc (my first drink in weeeeks). On Sunday we drove up to Oakland to check out a few open houses. It felt so good to get out and see the sun!

I’m down to a single crutch, so I’m going back to work tomorrow. Joey’s been keeping me company during my recovery and I’m going to miss the purring bugger. He made a fantastic work-from-home companion.

Here are some goats. We met them in Pescadero during a day trip last month. They make one helluva delicious chevre.

I’m always encountering new and exciting ways that people choose to spell my first name — the most common being Kristin (which is just plain incorrect). I’ll never get it, “kur, kuuuursten.” Why are you sticking that R before the I?

I just glanced at the sheet outlining my Physical Therapy homework and found one of the more amusing spellings to date, Kirthten. Better than Krithten, I suppose.