All I wanted to do was plug into an outlet. I had a desk/workplace/shelving unit made a couple of years ago for my “office” in what would be listed as a bedroom. Cleverly the fellow who crafted it for me put an electrical outlet/power cord under the desk.
In principle, one could just plug in but nay, nay, it turns out it is best to get onto the floor to see properly what plugs were available or what USB port was open to use. Simple, easy — and now a horror show.
It’s all about knees at the age of 71. Now, recently I have dropped a sizable amount of what one might politely call “chubby” layers. I have a long way to go yet to reach my goal, but it is well underway. Which led me to the erroneous assumption that my knees — no longer painful on a daily basis — were ready to go back on the floor ... to say, plug something in.
So, down I went on the rug, to see what I was doing. I immediately knew that my knees had not miraculously aged backward. Lighter body, yes; healed knees, no.
I can only be grateful that a YouTube of my trying to rise from the kneeling position does not exist, although I am confident that my Likes and Follows would be in the millions. Who doesn’t enjoy watching a 71-year-old turtle flailing to rise onto her feet from being on her belly? Who doesn’t enjoy a good laugh at an “oldie” who thinks they have reversed time, fool that she is? I know I would at 30, 40, 50 years old.
Now many of you would have said gentle things like, “What the heck was she thinking,” “Bless her heart. but she is optimistic” or “Damn fool” — all of which would have been totally correct.
The good news is I did not rise a cripple. I did not regain the weight as a punishment for my foolishness. I did not have to have the fire department come and help me rise. I was so taken aback that I did not even call for Darling Husband because there are some things better left unseen.
So in these days of isolation and indoor activities to fill our days, I would like to offer you my heartfelt, nay, knee-felt advice: Stay away from getting on your knees for household jobs. The less said the better.
This pandemic has the benefit of getting me to clean every closet and cabinet in our house. I have wonderful things to give to The Woman’s Exchange to sell next fall and more wonderful things for The Coalition.
The one thing I have yet to really deal with is my office. I hate filing — why I cannot tell you. The cabinets and closets remain a mess but I have promised DH and myself that I will start to tackle that room.
DH is innately neat about paperwork and filing and his office always looks like a model home tour, whereas mine looks like a “before” picture for Marie Kondo in her worst-case scenario. But since Easter and Passover have come and gone, it is time for my own miracle of celebrating and letting go of piles, files and needlessly held items. I promise you, dear reader, that I will be able to say “I did it” by the end of this pandemic.
In a side note of praise, let me tell you about Darling Husband’s knees. He can still be down on them and this week he decided that the kitchen floor should not just be vacuumed and mopped but that it needed a good, old fashioned scrub. He got out our old garden knee pad and, with soapy water and rag, down he went to scrub-a-dub-dub our kitchen floor. Now that is a great set of knees. I applauded and mopped the bathroom floor.
I saw a quote not long ago: “When you were young and saw something on the floor you dropped to your knees and picked it up. Now when something is on the floor you look at it and think, ‘Just how much do I need that?’
If I need anything plugged in again I will think about how much I really need it or find an extension cord. My knees are on furlough.
Joyce Reehling lives in Pinehurst. She retired here from New York after a 33-year career in theater, TV and commercials.