REENIE'S REACH
by irene bean

Photobucket
Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (6)
Share on Facebook


SOME OF MY FAVORITE BLOGS I'VE POSTED


2008
A Solid Foundation

Cheers

Sold!

Not Trying to be Corny

2007
This Little Light of Mine

We Were Once Young

Veni, Vedi, Vinca

U Tube Has a New Star

Packing a 3-Iron

Getting Personal

Welcome Again

Well... Come on in

Christmas Shopping

There's no Substitute

2006
Dressed for Success

Cancun Can-Can

Holy Guacamole

Life can be Crazy

The New Dog

Hurricane Reenie

He Delivers

No Spilt Milk

Naked Fingers

Blind

Have Ya Heard the One About?

The Great Caper

Push

Barney's P***S

My New Security System

Shorts Part 2

Anymore, I'm not accustomed to city driving. I'm a Yankee by birth and grew up on Long Island, which was abundantly populated with impatient drivers even waaaaay back then. I truly believe that horns were invented solely at the behest of New Yorkers. By the way, my driving instructor was a retired NYC taxi driver, which might explain a lot about my driving maneuvers. My father, the most patient man to walk this earth, hired him after 8 minutes of trying to teach me. Later I lived in metropolitan Kansas City for 16 years and then lived in Southern California for 20 years, which is the birthplace of road rage. The past 6+ years in Monteagle have dulled my reflexes and any driving acumen I may have had in the past. Or perhaps it's just that I'm older.

Since arriving in Hillsboro Village, I've been giddy about my new grocery store, which is Harris Teeter. It oozes everything that a fine grocery store should ooze. Though it's considered pricey, everything I tend to buy seems to be on sale, and Harris Teeter is famous for its sale prices. Today I suggested to the kind woman ringing up my purchases that Harris Teeter was spying on me - that nearly everything I had on my list was on sale.

As much as I love Monteagle, I'll never forget the first time I walked into the Piggly Wiggly. I gasped with my newly developed faux Southern accent, "My word, they must be going out of business." I gasped again when I realized they weren't - that partially stocked shelves were de rigueur.

Anyway, my goal this week was to leave the Harris Teeter parking lot without being honked at. Good God, I can't even believe I'm owning up to that. Today I was successful except I clipped two curbs, which jostled me about a bit. Good God, again, I can't believe I'm owning up to this. As a defense, there are just too many cars, but I don't think that would hold up in any court.

Driving through Hillsboro Village any day of the week is a challenge. On a Friday afternoon, it makes PCH in Laguna Beach look like a cakewalk. It's insane. But I love it here. If my car could talk, it might have a different opinion.

****

I'm scheduled for pulmonary rehab 3x each week at Vanderbilt and really like the program. I knew I wanted to continue my cardio workout 3 of the remaining days, so the other day I struck out in search of a place with a good treadmill and recumbent bicycle. Because I'm now enrolled in Medicare, there's a program called Silver Sneakers, which provides *free* gym privileges at designated locations. There are many, many choices nearby. I did some online research then jumped into my car. The first and only place I checked out is about 1½ miles from Hillsboro House. I loved it! The Green Hills Senior Health Center.

During the past two days I've been there I've met so many fabulous people and the equipment is state-of-the-art... the very same I use for Pulmonary Rehab at Vanderbilt. There's a humongous saltwater pool heated at 88, I believe. Does that sound right? I've never been much interested in aquatic exercise though I know my body would be forever grateful. It's just so much work with changing and re-changing and getting wet and getting dry and showering and getting wet and getting dry again and lugging stuff back and forth and in and out. So my focus is mostly placed on cardio/weight exercise.

When I was given a tour of the facility I came upon a most amazing and fabulous person. There was a lifeguard at the pool. She's 76 years old. She's certified. Her full height reaches my bellybutton. Her legs were the lumpiest legs I've ever seen - looked like pesky mole tunnels. Though it appears as though I'm making fun of her, I was actually stunned with admiration. She was so veryveryvery kool.

Since arriving in Nashville, it's been these little windows of hope that give me so much pleasure. The lifeguard at the Senior Center made me realize that anything is possible... anything.

Now, if only I can get people to stop honking at me.







Read/Post Comments (6)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.
custsupport@journalscape.com